#bad but finishing the applications? yeah tried doing one (1) last year and that was a bust. all this to say that i’ve been thinking about

[apolohgy]

.

#not to be depressing when the sun is still out but i’ve been Realizing (trademark) lately that i don’t get excited/giddy like other people #like i have happy moments ofc. and i’ll look forward to a new tv or finishing a book on libby but last year i was watching this video #(all my introspections correspond to some youtube video bc that’s all i dosjjqlsk) and she’s a vlogger so she was like filming her morning #her breakfast and guitar lessons etc and each time she’d be like god the sun is so bright 😁 it’s so warm outside 😋 this oatmeal is SO #delicious i love this recipe!! 😘😊 i love how my guitar lessons are going 🥰🤗 #and i’ve been watching her videos for a while but it wasn’t until last year that i was like hmm i haven’t been excited or happy like that #for a while 🤔 and i know a certain extent of her happy go lucky demeanor might be bc she’s an influencer and that’s just. a part of the job #to look bubbly and like you’re loving life. i love her videos so this is not me being a hater qkejklwss it just so happens that watching #her made me realize i’ve been feeling like a robot for a long time and not noticing. btw for context her channel name is ‘sukkari life’ #and then i think mm maybe that can be written off as personality differences. but i think i’ve been d word for a while and don’t want to #fully admit it. i’ll be like i don’t feel excitement or happiness the way i used to+lost interest in hobbies+can’t maintain conversations #for longer than 5 mins but it will pass 😳 but like uhh i’ve probably been like this since i graduated college and it’s sinking in just now #bc i’m unemployed at home all day so i don’t have the distractions i used to. i mean i was depressed/anxious and going to therapy in #college but at least i was going to work making all A’s and reading and embroidering lmao. i hate that i see my depression as less valid #when i’m being productive but alas there it is ! but now there’s nowhere to run nowhere to hide . like sis you’re laying in bed all day and #last month i couldn’t even finish reading howl’s moving castle even though i liked it and wanted to. and i want to go to grad school so #bad but finishing the applications? yeah tried doing one (1) last year and that was a bust. all this to say that i’ve been thinking about #dipping my toes into the world of anitdepressanrs again LMAO. i mean all they did for me in 2018 was give me horrible nightmares and the #withdrawal period was so scary (had to quit cold turkey bc my therapist dropped me w/o informing me. gorgeous and sexy) #but i would be open to therapy combined w medication just to feel... not like a robot for the first time in years! i want to get a job #simply to afford this but i hate working .. unmovable object meets unstoppable force? 😳 jk i would work if it helped me afford therapy. i #hate being a shell of a person. anyways this is so long i’m sorry but i’ve been keeping this bottled up for a while hehe! if you read it #all the way i adore you and i’m telepathically sending you a $20 gift card to panera bread

[nightowlfandom]

Yandere! Corrupt Angel! Keigo Takami X Demon! Reader- Episode 1/3: The Same Side Of A Coin

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

Hey friends.....this is a ride Theres talkings of suicide, sinning, degredation, heaven vs hell and religious themes. You’ve been warned.

Leggo

...

You stood in the middle of the dancefloor, staring around the room. Once a year heaven and hell would come together and host the gala of the century. The Dark One and The Holy One would set aside their differences one day out of the year and host a party bringing both their children together for a huge affair.

Every demon and angel across the nine realms would show up. The beautiful, the ethereal, and the not so beautiful too. You watched as each leader sat respectfully on their thrones.

You watched as The Dark One looked over his people. It was times like this you admired the man. Your soul had mistakenly fallen to the pits of hell when an angel who wouldn’t do their job correctly denied your entry to heaven. You were given special treatment as a result.

The other demons knew you didn’t do anything wrong and they didn’t hold it against you. In fact, the other demons treated you like a kid sister. They never let you near any real demon business. 

“Ah, Young Y/N! Come!” The Dark One waved you over. “There’s someone you must meet my child.” 

“Yes, Sir!” you gave a thumbs up from the crowd. “Excuse me, Pardon me.” you shimmied through the crowd. You caught the eye of many angels. The other demons spoke highly of you, saying how the feather freaks would be lucky to have you...they were right.

You wore a black gown, with a pretty decorative necklace. Your wrists were decorated in beautiful lace cuffs that matched the rings on your right hand.

“Y/N, my word you look beautiful as ever.” The Dark One praised. “I want you to meet-”

“The Holy One, I know you...my family speaks...spoke-” you corrected yourself. “Highly of you.”

“Y/N, as I live and breathe. Old Goat Face wasn’t kidding.”

“Oh shut up and fix your bedsheet, Cloud Breath.”

You giggled as the two argued like siblings. 

“Y/N, I would like to personally apologize. I’m afraid some of my children can be quite...elite about who the let through the gates.”

You remember being thrown down the stairs, falling for a while, then landing next to a lake of lava. Of course that was a while ago.

“It’s okay...not like I was the purest soul in the world anyways.” you shrugged. 

“Sin does not define you my child, I’m sure your heart would have landed you here with me had a different angel been working that day.”

That didn’t change the fact that you were booted to hell. No one could change that even if they wanted to.

“Ah! Keigo My boy! Over here!” You watched as The Holy One waves someone over. You kept your eyes on the Dark One.

“How are you holding up, dear?”

“I’m well.” you bowed respectfully. “Sorry for not socializing enough.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, my dear girl. As long as you are enjoying yourself.”

You smiled, about to reply when a new body came into the picture. A tall man, in a black tuxedo strode up to you, the dark, and the holy One. he was obviously an angel from his golden thin rimmed halo hanging above his head of sandy brown hair. Only instead of white wings, his were blood red. They were unlike any you’ve ever seen before. You had never seen a higher level angel before in the flesh.

“Y/N, Triple 6....this is Keigo.”

“Nice to meet you, man. Don’t let twinkle toes tell you anything about us. Demons aren’t so bad. Y/N here is proof of that.”

“Y/N huh?” you finally met his sharp eyes. His gaze held yours for what felt like an eternity. His smug expression slightly faltered as he stared at you. His lips parted slightly at the sight of you. Never in all his days had he seen such a low level demon hold such a high priestess appearance. “I’m...charmed to meet you.”

“Likewise.” you bowed your head respectfully. You had noticed a few select demons getting near you. All the upper levels seemed to glare at this Keigo person with intense hate and you were positive it wasn’t just because of the color differences. 

“You don’t have horns.”

“Excuse me?” you raised an eyebrow.

“You have no horns.” he said again, a smirk teasing his lips.

You moved your hair from in front of your forehead to reveal two little bone-ish stubs. They weren’t sharp, nor prominent like the higher-ups. You remembered the others saying you needed horns that fit you just right. They would grow...eventually. 

“Hm, Keigo, Y/N...why don’t you two go on the dancefloor?” The Holy One asked.

“With this asshole? No thanks.” you rolled your eyes. “You think just because your higher up than me, you can disrespect me?” you crossed your arms. (Read more below the break)

...

“Disrespect. Dear girl, it was merely an observation!” he looked amused at your anger.

“Don’t you smile at me.” you seethed. “I know a pompous ass when I see it.”

“Y/N, do try and calm yourself.” The Dark One put a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it with malice.”

“Come on. What do you say.” he held out his hand. He winked.

“Only because I refuse to say no to a God twice.” you seethed.

Everyone watched as Keigo, wings spread crossed the dancefloor with you on his arm. You obviously weren’t too happy, given your first impression had already down down the drain. 

He’d better not touch Y/N if he knows what’d good for him,

Keigo of all people, dancing with a demon doesn’t surprise me.

You tried to ignore the gossip as a hand rested at the base of your spine. Keigo looked down at you, his smugness unwavering as he began move with you to the music. It was a low, slow jazzy tune with what could be described as a ‘sensual piano’ melody. 

“I really didn’t mean it the way you took it, doll.” he whispered in your ear. “But you’ve got fire, I respect that.”

“I..I’m sorry.” you sighed. “I’m just...used to people degrading me because-”

“This is so new to you.” he finished, his smile slightly faltering. “I was like that too, thousands of years ago.”

“Well I’m on year two so-” you scoffed. “It’s not that bad...I guess. Hell isn’t as bad as the books say it is.”

“Well heaven isn’t all clouds and rainbows either, doll. I’ve been banished so many times I’ve lost count.”

“Banished? I don’t understand.” you tilted your head to the side.

Keigo could see what was left of your innocent aura hanging around you. Most people who fell into the pits of hell were already long gone with no trace of human emotion or attachment. You...were different. It reminded him of...himself once upon a time.

“I’ve gone rogue. They tried to restrain me but they give keep giving me chances.” he shook his head. “That’s the think about the Cloud Kingdom, dear. They refuse to believe there are bad people in the world.” 

“Is that why...your wings are-”

‘No...that’s more of a stylistic choice...can’t let all those souls go to waste can I?” he winked. “Red suits me don’t you think.”

“Y-yes.” you replied honestly, finding it hard to lie. 

“So what about you?” he raised an eyebrow. Among the hum of the other patrons and the music, not to mention your demonic heart thumping loudly against your chest you felt Keigo’s breath on the shell of your ear. It was like he was telling you a secret. “What brings you to the pits...killing an ant by accident?”

“My application for the gates was apparently denied.”

“No why would that be.” you don’t look like the type to sin.

“Trust me.” you shook your head. “I’ve sinned more times than I can count...I guess putting a bullet in my head was the last straw.”

Keigo’s breath hitched in his throat as you told your story. You...you shot yourself? Such a small thing? You weren’t a murderer, or god forbid anything else. He felt himself silently fill with rage. You had the glow of an angel that was for sure.

“I’ve come to terms with it. Guess I wasn’t worthy.” you shrugged.

“You are always worthy.” he abruptly cut you off. “It’s these white wear wearing, cloud riding fuckers that aren’t worthy.” he seethed. ‘What other sins could you have possibly committed.”

“...The Dark One hasn’t told you?...I’m a lust demon in training.” you explained. “I used sex to fill voids when I was alive. When I couldn’t replace my pain with pleasure...kapow!” you put your fingers to your head and faked a gunshot.

“Lust demon?” Keigo raised an eyebrow. “That explains why you look so sexy tonight.” he flirted.

“Are you hitting on me?” your eyes widened.

“Depends. Do you like it?”

You hadn’t noticed that Keigo body was flush against yours. Skin to skin. You felt warm, scorching hot beneath him. That was the demon fire. 

“Y-yeah.” you nodded. “I do...wow-” you stepped back from him and fanned yourself. 

“Is everything alright?” Keigo stepped forward and laced his hands in yours. 

“What have you done to our sister?” a high priestess demoness waltzed up. She glared at Keigo who seemed unfazed, only raising an eyebrow. “Y/N, Dear are you alright?”

“I don’t know.” your chest heaved. “I feel- so...” you partially moaned.

“What has this angel scum done to our sister.” a male demon stormed up. He unfurled his dragon-esque wings. “Sister Y/N, say something.”

“I need air...I have to go outside.” you immediately walked away. Keigo, in a confused state watched you walk away.

“Sister Y/N is unwell! We must go after her.”

“She’ll be fine, we’ll know if she’s in trouble.”

Call it instinct, but he had to follow you.

#anime x reader #anime imagines #anime scenarios #anime headcanons #anime x reader imagines #anime x reader scenarios #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #bnha hawks #bnha keigo #mha au #bnha au #nightowlfandom #fan fic #smut imagines #hawks smut #hawks lemon #bnha lemon #keigo lemon #keigo takami lemon #keigo takami smut #keigo takami bnha #hawks x reader imagines #x reader #imagines #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami au

[alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer]

champagne problems (part 1)

here's my first part of my modern no magic "champagne problems" singer-songwriter quarantine thomastair AU! happy birthday to @foxglove-airmid even though I don't think it's your birthday where you live anymore (and I still haven't posted zia's birthday fic, it'll happen I swear)!

no content warnings for this part (besides maybe quarantine), but future parts will include discussions of mental illness, substance abuse, and a suicide attempt

obviously, the song alastair "wrote" in the fic is not mine, it's by taylor swift! and a few of the lyrics have been changed!

Masterlist | AO3

Thomas breathed out a sigh of relief as he lugged his suitcase up onto the fifth floor landing.

“‘Ere we are,” Piers announced as he unlocked the door.

Thomas was utterly exhausted, such was the result of taking a redeye flight across the Atlantic during a global pandemic, but any idea of rest that he’d had was interrupted when he heard the sound of piano flood the apartment.

“Ah, sorry about that,” Piers nodded, “One of my flatmates, the walls are paper thin. He can’t record at the studio right now, but he’s trying to finish his EP, so it’s been a bit noisier around here. He’ll take a break soon, hopefully.”

Thomas shook his head. “It’s no problem. Thank you, again, for allowing me to stay here. I’ll be looking for my own place as soon as the quarantine is up.”

“Of course. You’ve got the couch as long as you need it. Couldn’t just hang you out to dry, could I? Although, you did pick a god awful time to move to the city, if I do say so myself.”

Thomas sat down on the couch and tried to make himself comfortable. It was more comfortable than the flight or the airport, at least. “I know… I considered postponing the move, but the visa was so difficult to get, I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity. They say this will all blow over in a couple of weeks, but borders are closing and I heard talk of them suspending all pending visa applications. I didn't know how long it would be if I waited, if the job was even still here for me at all.” Although at first entrance, the music had seemed to be a nuisance, it now comforted him. It wasn’t bad at all, in fact, it quite reminded him of the days Alastair’s playing had filled their flat…

“Where did you say you were working again? At a record company?”

“Yeah. I’m just doing pretty basic stuff for now, but if I ever do want to record my own music, I’ve got to start somewhere.”

“Hm,” Piers said, gesturing to the room the music was coming from. “Perhaps you’ll get on with him well, then. Would you like some tea?”

Thomas nodded and Piers went to start the teapot. Piers continued, “Though I suppose he's more of the tortured artist type. Very reserved, quite prickly. I didn't even meet him until a couple weeks after I moved in here because he was off in some psychiatric hospital.” Thomas shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was never one for gossip. “My other roommate’s nice, though, I think you’ll like him. He-”

“How did you end up in New York, again? I don’t think I ever asked.”

Piers dove into the subject change quite readily, explaining his uni - or college - years in New York City and his decision to stay afterwards. Thomas had tuned most of it out, truthfully. It wasn’t that he was trying to be rude, but he was rather exhausted, and Piers was wearing thin on his patience.

As the kettle started to whine, Thomas heard the musician begin to sing, and he froze. It sounded so much like Alastair. But it couldn't be, could it? With over 8 million people living in the city, he would not end up in Alastair's apartment by accident. His Alastair was certainly reserved and prickly, but it wasn't possible. It must be like all those times he thought he saw him on a street he'd never walked or heard his laugh in a café he'd never been to. Just his mind, tricking him. Even if he knew that voice so well, despite not hearing it in so long.

“It’s quite good, isn’t it? His first single just dropped.” Piers asked, bringing over his cup of tea. He hadn’t realized it, but he’d been staring intently at the door.

Thomas took the cup. “Hm? Yeah, I guess. Thanks.”

“You should look it up. It’s called “champagne problems” by Simurgh. That’s spelled- Well, it should come up.”

The name Simurgh sounded familiar, but Thomas couldn’t put his finger on where he knew it from. At Piers’ insistence, he pulled out his phone and brought up the song. As he skimmed through the first few lines, a cold feeling settled in his stomach.

“You booked the night train for a reason So you could sit there in this hurt Bustling crowds or silent sleepers You're not sure which is worse”

“Simurgh,” Thomas realized.

“Yeah, I think it’s Arabic or something.”

It took Thomas a moment to process that Piers was responding to him. “It’s Persian.” He was certain that Alastair would have some very stern words to say if he heard Piers confusing the two, actually. Thomas had admittedly let his Farsi skills deteriorate quite a bit since the breakup, but he was fairly certain the name came from the Shahnameh. There was no doubt in Thomas’ mind now: he was staying in Alastair’s apartment, and Alastair’s first single was about one of the most painful days in Thomas’ life. “I, er, I used to study it.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right!” Piers launched into a tangent that Thomas tuned out as he read through the rest of the page.

“Because I dropped your hand while dancing Left you out there standing Crestfallen on the landing Champagne problems”

“Thomas? Are you alright?”

He realized then that his hand was trembling so badly that his tea nearly spilled. He used his other hand to steady it. “Oh, uh, yes, I’m just tired.”

“Perhaps you should rest. I can ask Alastair to quiet down for a while-”

“No!” he exclaimed rather too forcefully. “No, that’s not necessary. I’d just rather not talk, if that’s alright.”

Piers nodded.

Thomas kept reading.

“Your mom's ring in your pocket My picture in your wallet Your heart was glass, I dropped it Champagne problems”

Of all the songs, why did he release the one about him? Why was it about a memory still so painful in Thomas’ heart, all of these years later? He remembered it so well, standing there, alone, shattered into a million pieces.

“You told your family for a reason You couldn't keep it in Your sister splashed out on the bottle Now no one's celebrating”

He was fairly certain that Barbara had been more excited than even he was, confident that Alastair would accept, and so very proud of her baby brother, all grown up. She’d been furious when it fell apart, but it was her who stood with him during the aftermath, who boarded him onto a train to Edinburgh to visit Eugenia when he couldn’t stand to be in the same city as him any longer, who went through his phone, blocking all of Alastair’s accounts so that he could obsess over him no longer, who comforted him as he wept and held him as he picked the pieces of himself back up again.

And all the more sour was the memory in light of her death.

“Dom Pérignon, you brought it No crowd of friends applauded Your hometown skeptics called it Champagne problems”

He looked up at Piers, who had fortunately become enthralled with something on his phone and was no longer paying Thomas any mind. He lifted the teacup gingerly to his lips, but he felt far too sick to take a drink.

“You had a speech, you're speechless Love slipped beyond your reaches And I couldn't give a reason Champagne problems”

A reason, that’s all Thomas had wanted. Just any explanation. He understood if they were moving too fast, or perhaps he’d misread something, but he just didn’t understand it.

Why? Why can’t you tell me why? I deserve an explanation, Alastair. Please, anything.

I… I’m sorry, Thomas.

Stop it! Stop apologizing! We can just go home and pretend this never happened, please, forget about all of it, it was a stupid idea-

Thomas, stop. I shouldn’t’ve… This was a mistake. I’m sorry I didn’t see that sooner.

That was the moment Thomas felt his heart stop beating.

“Your Midas touch on the Chevy door November flush and your flannel cure "This dorm was once a madhouse" I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me" How evergreen, our group of friends Don't think we'll say that word again And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls That we once walked through”

Despite the nearly two decades Thomas had spent in London before Alastair, it was never the same without him. He saw him everywhere he went, despite knowing he was thousands of miles away. After graduating uni that May, he accepted a spot at a graduate program in Spain and didn’t look back.

“One for the money, two for the show I never was ready so I watch you go Sometimes you just don't know the answer 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you "You’re the only one I want by my side, What a shame you’re fucked in the head," you said”

Those were the words that haunted Thomas’ nightmares, even now.

It’s you! It’s only you for me! It was always going to be you! But I can see now that I was never going to be enough for you, you and your secrets and walls and your lies. It’s a shame… it’s a shame you’re so fucked in the head, Alastair. You’ll never truly love anyone, will you? You’re not physically capable of it.

Alastair hadn’t responded. Thomas had wanted a rise out of him, any reaction at all, despite knowing how lethal and volatile Alastair could become when provoked. But there was nothing. Not a flicker of anything in his steeled expression. He’d simply looked down, apologized again for any pain that he’d caused, and left.

That was the last time they’d spoken.

Thomas and his sister left for Edinburgh that night, and when he’d returned to London, Alastair was gone.

“Well, you'll find the real thing instead Who'll patch up your tapestry that I shred And hold your hand while dancing Never leave you standing Crestfallen on the landing With champagne problems”

Thomas couldn’t imagine giving his heart to anyone again, not now and certainly not then. He’d dated in Madrid, but it had always stayed casual. He’d made sure of it. He could see now that he and Alastair had gotten together quickly, moved in together quickly, done all of it very quickly. After all, he’d fallen hard and fast. He gave all of himself to Alastair, and he’d nearly lost all of himself in the process.

“Your mom's ring in your pocket New picture in your wallet You won't remember all my Champagne problems

“You won't remember all my Champagne problems”

Now, he wondered what the rest of the story was. He’d convinced himself that Alastair had never loved him, that he was heartless and cruel, though he’d known that wasn’t true. Could Alastair have written this song if he’d never truly loved him? Perhaps he was a sociopath.

Thomas felt like he should run. Like he should pick up his bag and dart out of the apartment before Alastair could notice him, find some hotel somewhere with undoubtedly extraordinary high rates and just pretend like this never happened. He could get back on a plane and go back home to his parents and delete his phone browser history and pretend like this was all just a bad dream. But he could not move.

He didn’t know how many minutes had passed before Alastair’s door opened. He looked up with a start.

“Thomas,” Alastair breathed. He stood wide eyed, flushed.

“Do you two already know each other then?” Piers asked.

There was a moment of silence before Thomas cleared his throat. “We used to,” he said, looking down.

“I, er, I forgot that your friend was coming today,” Alastair told Piers. “It’s quite a long journey from London, you should have told me, I would have been quieter.”

Thomas considered correcting him for a moment, but decided not to. “Don’t worry about it. I heard you had your first big release. Congratulations.”

Alastair gave an awkward nod. “Thank you. Right, well, I’ll just…” He rushed over to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. “I’ll try to be a bit quieter.”

“Don’t- It’s fine, really. In fact, I’m sure there’s some hotel in the area I can stay at for now, actually-”

“Well, don’t leave on my account,” Alastair interrupted. “We agreed to let you stay here, and the city’s a bloody mess right now. I’ll stay out of your hair, Thomas.”

Thomas only nodded as Alastair disappeared back behind his bedroom door.

Thanks for reading! Taglist (ask to be +/-): @stxr-thxif @chaos-and-starlight @zosiaenrique @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @eugeniaslongsword @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid @writeforjordelia @sapphic-in @jem-nasium @fortheloveofthecarstairs @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @shadowrunner2000 @thewarthatsavedmylife @fair-childd @itsjusta-j-really

#alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #thomastair #tlh #the last hours #fanfic #fanfiction #champagne problems au

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑀𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑎! 𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝐷𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠 𝐷𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, supporting, justifying or encouraging mafia activities or lifestyle. This is all fictional and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

꧁𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰꧂

"Mom! Dad's being annoying again!"

You walked into the office only to see your daughter huffing with arms crossed as your husband sat in his chair, busy writing something down.

"What is it this time?" You mentally prepared yourself to hear some silly thing.

"It's nothing dear. I already told her I'm considering allowing her classmate to take her to the school's dance." Hongjoong responded as if he wasn't guilty of anything.

"See? He usually says no. So what's the problem?" You asked your daughter.

"He's making an 'application to date my daughter' to give to my date!" Your daughter exclaimed.

"What?" You walked over to Hongjoong and snatched the paper away from him and began quoting some of it:

"Thank you for your interest? Please allow 4 to 6 years for processing? If you've been rejected, you will be notified by 2 men carrying violin cases? Any false information may result in punishment by dismemberment, crucifixion, Chinese water torture?!"

"Kim Hongjoong!" You threw the paper back at him.

"What?! I'm only trying to look out for my baby! I only want the best for her." He defended himself.

"At this point, you might as well send me to a convent!" Your daughter furiously marched away to go lock herself in her room.

"Are you happy now?" You raised an eyebrow at Hongjoong.

"Not yet. But once I finish these last details on the application, I will be." He smiled as he resumed his task.

You threw your hands up in anger. "You're unbelievable!"

Hongjoong looked back at you and stuck his tongue out.

"If you were me, you'd do the same!"

꧁𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪꧂

Seonghwa kept pacing back and forth in the living room, unable to calm down.

"Would you please stop it?" You finally told him, annoyed by his fidgeting.

"Stop what?" He asked rather confused.

"That! Stop being so dramatic about this. You knew this would happen sooner or later." You reminded him.

"And I sincerely hoped it'd be a lot later. Waaay later." Seonghwa sighed.

"It's just a first date. It's not like sending one of your rookies out on their first mission." You joked to lighten the mood.

"There's a huge difference... this is my daughter we're talking about! My daughter! My beacon of light in this dark world." He pouted.

"Speaking of which, here she comes!" You pointed to your daughter, who is happily skipping over to you two.

"Look mom! What do you think?! Do you think he'll like it?!" She asked as she twirled around in a sparkly red dress.

"You look gorgeous honey. Of course he'll like it! Right Seonghwa?"

You turned to Seonghwa, who just stood there awkwardly, his eye was visibly twitching.

"Does.....does it have to be that short?" He asked.

He let out a yelp of pain when you elbowed him on his side. He looked over at you and you silently warned him to behave.

Sighing, he smiled at your daughter. "You're absolutely beautiful darling."

She beamed with happiness and hugged you both before running out the door once she heard a car beeping. Seonghwa just watched her as she left.

"See? That wasn't so bad right? The overprotective dad mode isn't necessary."

Seonghwa laughed awkwardly at that.

"Haha....yeah right."

As soon as you were out of sight, he took out his phone and dialed a number.

"All units on sector 3 better report to me any sign of physical contact that happens between them. Over."

꧁𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸꧂

"It's already 2:31, she's late." Yunho blurted out.

"What are you talking about?" You asked him.

"I mean school is over at 2, it's only a 30 minute drive from here to there and vice versa. They're late, we gotta make sure they're all right."

You grabbed his arm when he sprinted from the couch.

"Yunho, it's only been 1 minute-"

"2 minutes now actually." He corrected you.

You sighed, praying for patience.

"Point is, it's her first day of school, maybe there was a lot of traffic and you're overreacting. She'll be here soon." You tried to calm him down.

Yunho sat back down and huffed. "I still say we should have just home schooled her."

"Public school isn't going to kill her!" You argued.

"I got the best tutors and professors on speed dial. They're more than willing to give my daughter the best education money can buy!" Yunho repeated what he's been saying for months.

"She needs to learn to interact with people, develop social skills. You're making a fuss over nothing. It's only the first day, and see? Where's the danger? What's the problem so far?" You tried reasoning with him.

"Problem is..... she's not here!" He exclaimed.

Right at that moment, your 6 year old daughter came running in, straight to her father's arms.

"She's here now, and in one piece." You told him.

"Hi sweetheart. Did you have fun today?" He asked as he bounced your daughter in his lap.

"Very! We got to paint, and play around, and at recess, a boy asked me to be his girlfriend and I said sure!" She babbled happily.

Yunho's smile dropped when he heard that last part. He looked over at you, and you were just on the verge of laughing at his reaction.

"See?! Now we got a problem! Some boy is already trying to take my daughter away and corrupt her!" He whined.

"Oh relax Yunho! They're 6 years old! The worst that can happen right now is he gets her sick or something." You shook your head at him.

Yunho held your daughter and looked at her seriously.

"Honey, listen to me. Stay away from boys, they have cooties and they're evil vicious villains who'll just hurt you. Ok? Can you do that for daddy?" He made puppy dog eyes at her.

You face palmed at him.

꧁𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰꧂

"You know Yeosang, you've been having a lot more drinks than usual...." San pointed it out to him.

"I wanna drink tonight to forget and pretend like today didn't just happen." Yeosang said as he downed another shot.

"Yeosang, we've all been there like you were tonight. Trust me, you'll get over it." Wooyoung reminded him.

"Not me! I was the most supportive out of all of you! I was the perfect dad." San smiled, his cute dimples on full display.

"Hey! I was supportive as well!..... sort of. ." Yeosang replied sheepishly.

"Oh yeah? What happened then? Do tell us." Mingi rested his face in his hand, ready to hear Yeosang's story.

Yeosang began reminiscing about what happened a few hours before:

He stood there awkwardly, the young lad that was taking his daughter to prom right in front of him, trying his best to make a great impression of him. But Yeosang wasn't making it easy with his cold icy stare. He just couldn't believe someone was daring to come between him and his daughter.

"I'm ready!"

They both turned and looked over at you and your daughter, all dressed to perfection. The boy's breath was taken away and he was almost drooling. Meanwhile, Yeosang was clenching his fist so much it almost drew blood. After taking so many pictures, she hugged you both goodbye. The boy went to shake Yeosang's hand, but Yeosang instead pulled him in for a caring and ,somewhat suspicious, hug.

"Well then?" Hongjoong asked, snapping him back to reality.

Yeosang gulped.

"Ok. So I may or may not have threatened to cut off his balls if he tried anything...."

꧁𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷꧂

Even though San was extremely close to your daughter and yes he was protective of her, he was also overjoyed and very supportive when she asked for permission to go on a date. He immediately stood up and began bombarding her with questions:

"Who was the boy? Where did you meet? How long have you two known each other? Where do you guys wanna go? How much will you need? Want me to set you guys up at an expensive restaurant? Are you two in love?"

On the day of the actual date, he seemed more excited than your own daughter. He actually hired a photographer to capture every single moment.

"Ok honey I think that's enough photos, the kids might lose their reservation." You tried to make sure they actually made it to the date.

San gasped. "Oh right right! Well you kids have fun and don't worry about paying! I rented the whole thing out for you two!"

He pulled your daughter in for a tight and squishy hug, reminding her how much he loved her and to take care. He also gave the boy a firm pat on the back before watching them get in the limousine and drive away. Even after a few minutes, he stood there silently.

He sighed happily.

"They grow up so fast.....it feels like it was only yesterday when I held her in my arms for the first time....."

You watched San and could tell he was getting emotional.

"Are you going to cry?" You asked him.

"Me? Cry? Pssht! I'm Choi San, the manliest man of all mafia leaders and I do not cry!" He declared bravely.

He then stood there awkwardly before turning back to you. Sighing, you opened your arms.

"Come here. Let it all out." You assured him.

Instantly, San held onto you, crying his eyes out, his heart full of so many emotions.

"Oh my god my babygirl is all grown and soon she'll be leaving me, and I'm sad but I'm so happy at the same way cause I love her so much, and I love you so much and I just miss my baby already even though she's still here!"

You only patted his back and nodded at his sobbing. At least he wasn't putting a tracking device on her.

꧁𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲꧂

You knew it was all bullshit when Mingi said he was desperately needed at the headquarters with the boys. And Seonghwa even confirmed it when you called him and he said that everything was fine, no one called a meeting. You thanked him and hung up. Grabbing your car keys, you sped to your daughter's location, hoping to get there before something embarrassing happened.

You looked around the place, trying your best so your daughter wouldn't see you. She didn't, however you spotted a very familiar shade of red hair hiding behind some bushes. Discreetly, you crept up behind him and smacked his head.

"Ow! What was that for?!" He cried out.

"Song Mingi! You ought to be ashamed of yourself! Spying on your own daughter on her first date!" You yelled at him.

"It's my right as a father to make sure my daughter is safe!" He protested.

"Well you can do that....from a distance!"

Without warning, you grabbed his ear and pulled him back to your car to take him home.

"Ok! Can you let go?! I'll go back home with you!" He gave up and walked back with you.

"Good. Honestly, what were you thinking? Oh wait! You weren't." You huffed as you got in the driver's seat.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting your daughter to be safe and make sure her date treats her decently." He pouted like a little baby.

"Well like I said, you could do that from a distance. There's no need to be stalking her out like one of your snipers." You told him as you started the car.

"Yeah.....you're right...." Mingi sighed.

You smiled, proud that he was willing to accept his mistake. That was until he opened his mouth again.

"I mean, why put a tracking device on her phone and not use it?" He stated nonchalantly as he took out his phone

"Song fucking Mingi! I swear to God, if you did that I will make you roll out of the car!"

꧁𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰꧂

"For the last time....No!"

Wooyoung was stubborn. No matter how many times your daughter begged him to let her go to the school dance, he stood his ground and refused. She tried every single approach: she behaved like an angel, tried bargaining and even rebelled like a teenager but to no avail.

"Give me one good reason why I can't go!" Your daughter pouted.

"I'll give you three reasons: One, boys. Two, boys. And three, which is actually the most important one... boys!" Wooyoung was practically dramatic at this point, as if he wasn't already.

"You're going to have to let me date someday!" Your daughter retaliated.

"Absolutely....when I'm cold in my coffin or when hell freezes over. Whichever comes first." Wooyoung said.

Your daughter ended up locking herself in her room, refusing to see her father. It hurt him to have her rejection, but he only did it because he loved her. Unbeknownst to him though, you gave her permission and even arranged for her to be picked up by your friend so she could go to her dance. You hoped Wooyoung didn't notice.

"Where is she?" Wooyoung asked you, crossing his arms over his chest, his foot tapping on the floor.

You sighed in defeat. "She went to the dance. I gave her permission."

Wooyoung began screaming at the top of his lungs, getting agitated.

"Oh relax you drama queen! Her date isn't a bad boy! In fact, he's the sweetest boy ever! You know him, it's San's son!"

As soon as he heard that, Wooyoung felt like he was going to get a heart attack.

"Of all people, she chose San's kid?! Is she insane?!"

Wooyoung took out his phone and furiously tapped on the screen.

"San you little piece of shit! Why are you letting your devil of a son seduce my little angel? Hmm?..... Oh don't give me that! He's just like you! Behind that innocent dimple smile lies a demon, waiting to prey on the innocent and pure so they can corrupt them!! Curse you and your cute dimple genes! I will get you back for this!"

꧁𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸꧂

"So....what are your intentions?" Jongho asked the boy sitting in front of him.

"Excuse me s-sir?" The boy didn't quite understand.

"What are your intentions with my daughter?" Jongho repeated as he reached for one of the apples that were on the table.

"Well I... I....I'm not sure. I guess-"

"Oh? Not sure?" Jongho locked eyes with him as he effortlessly split the apple in half with his bare hands.

The boy noticeably gulped and stared at the crushed fruit.

"I I mean! It's only a dance! It's nothing serious-"

"Are you saying my daughter's a joke? Are her feelings nothing to you?"Jongho reached for another apple and split it apart just like the other one.

"I didn't say that!" The boy exclaimed.

Jongho nodded and reached for yet a third apple.

"Listen very carefully to me boy. I love my daughter so much. There's nothing I wouldn't do for her. I only want her to be happy."

He split the apple and set it down on the table.

"So let me make this clear: break my daughter's heart and I will break you. You know like what?" Jongho tilted his head at him.

"Like.....those apples?" The boy hesitantly pointed at the murdered fruit in front of him.

"Hmm? Oh no. Not like those apples."

Jongho smiled and pulled out a watermelon from one of the cushions.

"I'll break you like this watermelon."

Jongho's fist slammed down on the watermelon, effortlessly breaking it in half. The poor boy was now pale, fearing for his life.

"Daddy! I'm ready! Is the driver ready- what's with all the split fruit?" Your daughter asked when you and her walked into the living room.

"Oh! Nothing sweetheart. I was just splitting these for our guest. Gotta have a little snack before. Right?"

Jongho held out a parted apple to the boy, his eyes silently warning him not to say anything of what really happened. The boy simply nodded and took the apple.

"Y-yeah. Your father is really n-nice."

You frowned at Jongho when your eyes met. You knew what really happened. But he simply smiled innocently at you, like nothing happened.

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners.

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez mafia au #mafia!au #mafia!ateez #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

[deja-you]

ten ways to say (i love you)

t. jefferson x reader

summary: Thomas has never liked the conventional way of saying ‘I love you.’

word count: 6.1k

warnings: a little bit of angst, high school, karen

masterlist

1.

There is no better way to start off senior year than arriving late to your first class.

In Y/n’s defense, she had left her house early. For once in her life she was actually going to be early to school. She was so proud of herself, and was so certain that she had extra time, Y/n allowed herself to stop at a drive thru and pick up a drink as a reward. Everything was going according to plan. 

That is, until the Karen in the car in front of her decided she wasn’t pleased with her order and made the barista redo it. To make sure she didn’t mess up Karen’s order a second time, the barista was extra careful. And extra slow. Y/n groaned as she watched the time tick by minute by minute. Just her luck.

Y/n watched the barista hand the drink to the Karen and breathed a sigh of relief. Yet, Karen’s car didn’t move. She had her drink, but Karen continued to talk with the barista. Y/n cursed under her breath and banged her head on the steering wheel. She must have been more aggressive than she was expecting, because she accidentally honked her horn. 

She jumped back in shock at the loud noise. Karen poked her head out of her window and immediately began lecturing Y/n on how rude she was being. At least, that’s what Y/n assumed she was saying, she really couldn’t hear the Karen with her windows rolled up. Y/n bit her lip, gave the Karen a little wave, and mouthed an apology.

Eventually Karen had finished her rant and left the drive thru. Y/n got her drink, no longer a reward, more like a consolation now, and sped to school. There weren’t any other students in the parking lot by the time Y/n arrived, remind her of just how late she was. Y/n shoved all her materials in her backpack, locked her car, and quickly walked into the building. 

Of course, Y/n’s first class just had to be with Mr. Rousseau. Any other teacher would just let her tardiness slide. She opened the door to Mr. Rousseau’s classroom, and any conversation that was being had stopped. More than a dozen pairs of eyes turned their attention to her, and Y/n wanted to melt right there and then.

“Miss L/n, nice of you to join us.” Mr. Rousseau addressed her. He narrowed his eyes at her, leaning against his desk as he sized her up. “If you’re done being a distraction to my class, I’d appreciate it if you would take a seat.”

Y/n swallowed roughly, and nodded. Rousseau went back to lecturing the class on how his class would be run, and Y/n did her best to find a seat as quietly as she could. She instinctively made her way over to where her best friends, Abigail and Thomas were sitting. 

Thomas moved his backpack off the desk next to him, and mouthed, “I saved you a seat.”

She gave him a grateful smile and mouthed back a ‘thanks.’ 

Abigail leaned forward and whispered, “Mr. Rousseau wasn’t very amused with you being late, huh?”

“I swear he hates me,” Y/n insisted. 

Thomas rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t hate you, hon’.”

“Thomas is right,” Abigail said. “Mr. Rousseau doesn’t hate you especially. Everyone knows he just hates women.”

2.

Late night study session was code for hanging out at John Adams’s house and messing around.

Abigail was dating John, so Y/n was friends with him and his friends by association. Abigail, Dolly, and Y/n were actually trying to study. John and James were discussing the football team’s chances of winning their next game. Martha and George had snuck off to get freaky somewhere. 

“Okay, Dolly.” Abigail held up a flash card. “What can you tell me about the defenestration of Prague?”

“Um, people were thrown out of windows for fun?” Dolly replied lazily. 

“No. Well, I guess you’re not completely wrong...”

Y/n threw her body against the back of the couch and closed her eyes. If she had to stay here any longer, Y/n would throw herself out a window. Not that she didn’t want to hangout with her friends. After a long day of school, she wasn’t exactly thrilled to spend more time with the people she spent the whole day with. If it wasn’t for her fragile social status, Y/n would have already been home in her bed right now.

“Sorry m’late, had to drop my sister off at a gymnastics class. Or fencing. Or Italian. Honestly, I can’t remember.” Thomas walked into the living room where everyone was hanging out.

“Ah, yes. I had almost forgot that the Jeffersons are all overachievers,” Y/n said with and eye roll. 

He wore an easy grin as he made his way over to Y/n, leaning against the couch and staring down at her. “What can I say? We’re just built different.”

Y/n scoffed but refused to dignify him with any further response. Instead, she closed her eyes again, pretending she was back at home under warm covers. 

“I brought you food.” 

This caught Y/n’s attention. She slowly opened one eye to see if he was telling the truth. Thomas held up a bag of fast food he must’ve picked up on his way over. Y/n couldn’t help but smile as she sat upright.

“For me?” She asked.

“Of course, hon’.” He handed her the bag. “I know you didn’t have time for lunch today, and I know you likely wouldn’t have gotten around to eating anything yet.”

Y/n happily pulled out an order of large fries out of the bag. “Have I ever told you how amazing you are, Thomas?”

“Not often enough.”

“Well. You are amazing. So amazing.”

Y/n finished her fries and was looking through the rest of the bag to see what else he had gotten her when John called out to her. 

“Hey, Y/n,” John said, “what are your thoughts on my cousin?”

“You mean Sam Adams?” Y/n asked. 

“Yep. The very one.”

She shrugged. “He’s cute. Why?”

“He thinks you’re cute. Wanted me to ask if you’re single,” John said nonchalantly. 

Abigail took time away from quizzing Dolly to get invested in the conversation. “She’s very single. Right, Y/n? You and Sam would be so cute together!”

Y/n could feel her cheeks begin to heat up, and she suddenly found the hardwood floors very interesting. “I don’t know... he really thinks I’m cute?”

“S’what he said,” John replied. “Can I give him your number?”

She weighed her options before giving a shrug. “Yeah, why not?”

“Y/n and Sam? I totally ship it,” Dolly said.

“Right?” Abigail grinned. “They’re going to be such an attractive couple.”

“Okay, can we stop talking about this now? I’m here to study,” Y/n insisted, pulling out a textbook.

“I’d rather not fail tomorrow’s test,” Thomas agreed.

Everyone begrudgingly went back to their previous activities, and Thomas took that moment to sit next to Y/n on the couch. She was flipping through the pages of her textbook before she came to a stop. Y/n passed the textbook to Thomas and pointed to the painting on the page.

“Look, this one’s my favorite,” she said.

“Wanderer above the Sea of Fog,” Thomas read. “You’re a fan of Caspar David Friedrich, then?”

Y/n shrugged. “I’m just a fan of the Romantic movement in general. Everything was just so creative, and beautiful, and emotional. There’s just so much feeling in this painting. It’s overwhelming.”

Thomas frowned looking back at the painting, and then back to Y/n. “It certainly is romantic.”

She gave the painting one last look before she began flipping through the pages of the textbook again. Thomas watched her curiously as she read over the vocabulary words for that week. Finally, he decided to say what was on his mind. 

“So, you and Sam Adams, huh?” He nudged her gently with his shoulder.

Y/n bit her lip and focused on a peculiar tchotchke the Mrs. Adams had decorated the living room with. “I guess. I used to have a crush on him in middle school, remember?”

“That’s right. Abbie and I spent most of science class teasin’ you about that. No wonder you’re so bad at physics now.”

She frowned and playfully bumped her shoulder with his. “I’m not bad at physics.”

“Really?” Thomas considered her with eyebrows raised. “Remember that botched science experiment that nearly killed Mr. Newton?”

“Can we not talk about that? He’s still alive, isn’t he?”

He hid an amused look. “Whatever you say, honey.”

3.

You’re tired. The sheets are too hot. It’s been a long day, your body is exhausted. The air in your bedroom is too cold. Your mind is tired, too. The sheets are too hot. If you just close your eyes and stop thinking you’ll be asleep in minutes. The air in your bedroom is too cold. Not thinking isn’t exactly easy. The sheets are too hot. Go then if you must, but remember, no matter how -- damn you, Sophocles, and your terribly beautiful words. 

Thomas threw his covers off his body and sat up in bed. He wasn’t going to get much sleep no matter how hard he tried. Thomas rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, if there had been any sleep to begin with. 

There was no doubt that he was tired mentally and physically. Emotionally? His heart was eternally restless. He crossed his room to sit at his desk, fully accepting that sleep wasn’t a viable option anymore. 

The blue light from his computer was a harsh contrast to the darkness of his room, but his eyes adjusted quickly. Thomas didn’t even know what he was doing on his computer in the middle of the night.

His fingers knew. They opened up an application and began scrolling. No, no, no, yes. Perfect. No, no, no, no, no, yes. This is her. And this went on for an hour or so, Thomas lost track of time. He’d be tired tomorrow, but he wasn’t going to get any sleep until he was finished. 

When he actually was finished, he smiled contentedly to himself. A wave of calm washed over him, and before he knew it, Thomas was back in his bed falling asleep. 

He looked terrible the next morning. Well, as terrible as a Jefferson could look. He had still had the sense to dress nicely, collared shirt, sweater, ironed pants, polished dressed shoes. Thomas was still sharp as ever in all his classes, but anyone who really knew him could tell he was a mess. 

“You okay, Thomas?” Y/n asked at lunch in Mr. Locke’s classroom (Mr. Locke was kind enough to let a group of moody teenagers eat lunch in his class, the lunchroom just wasn’t cool enough for them).

“Hm? Yeah. I’m great.”

Y/n cocked her head to the side. “You sure? You seem tired.”

“Don’t worry about me. Actually, I have something for you.” Thomas fished his phone out of his pocket.

“You have something for me?”

“Yeah, I’m sending it now. Check your phone.”

She raised an eyebrow, but Y/n opened up her phone to check the text Thomas had sent her. 

“Sophocles and Serotonin.” Y/n read aloud. “What is this?”

“I made you a playlist of songs I thought you might like.”

“Seriously?” A smile played on her lips; Thomas couldn’t help but reflect it. “When did you have the time for this?”

He shrugged. “I have more free time than you’d think.”

“With all your APs, varsity sport, and extracurriculars? I highly doubt that.” Y/n looked up at him, a teasing lilt transparent in her tone. “I appreciate the playlist even more, knowing you took time out of your rigorous schedule to create it. Thanks, Thomas.”

She leaned forward on the desk she was seated on to press a kiss to his cheek. Thomas froze like a deer in headlights, and if Y/n noticed, she didn’t say anything. He put himself back together before she could notice he was momentarily put-off, and leaned back against another desk in an attempt to look cool.

“S’what do you have planned for after school?” He asked in his best nonchalant voice. 

“Well, Sam and I are going to go see a movie.”

“That’s still a thing, then?”

Y/n shot him a look that had him raising his hands up in surrender. “Yes, it’s still a thing. I really like him, okay? He’s a good guy.”

“But is he good enough for you?” Thomas crossed his arms, his eyes not leaving her’s. It wasn’t that Thomas didn’t like Sam. Sam was great. It was just a fact that no guy would ever be good enough for his best friend. 

“He is.” She said with an eye roll. “Why do you care anyway?”

“Hon’, I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Oh trust me, I know.”

4.

Summer had felt like an eternity ago, when in reality, it had been less than two months ago. The yellow leaves and the updated fall Starbucks menu were enough to convince anyone that it had always been October. 

It had taken a lot of convincing and a little bit of bribery to convince Thomas to attend the Homecoming football game, but with the assistance from Abigail, Y/n had eventually gotten Thomas to cave. She wanted him there, but more importantly, she wanted him to give her a ride there. 

Of course she could have taken her own car, but Y/n would rather not waste her own gas when she could use Thomas’s instead. It’s not like it mattered to him, his parents paid for his car, insurance, and gas anyway. Plus, his Mercedes Benz had a seat warming function that Y/n couldn’t get enough of. 

She spent most of the ride over to the stadium raving over his seat warmers, and Thomas spent most of the ride making fun of how excited she was about seat warmers. Eventually, they parked outside of the stadium, and Thomas paid for their entrance fee into the stadium.

“It’s co--” before Y/n could finish her sentence, remarking on the obvious cold weather, Thomas had handed her a sweatshirt. She looked down at the maroon sweatshirt, then back at Thomas, her mouth slightly open. “You brought an extra sweatshirt for me? I didn’t even ask.”

“You didn’t have to ask,” he shrugged. She put on the sweatshirt and stared at him with wide eyes. Thomas glanced at, bit the inside of his lip, and shook his head. “Now, don’t go thinking I care about you or somethin’ like that, hon’. Couldn’t have you taking the sweatshirt I’m wearing, then I’d be cold.”

She looked at him with a smug smile on her face that made him regret bringing her the sweatshirt in the first place. “Yeah? Is that all?”

“Yes, that’s all.” He was doing his best to act annoyed by all her questioning, but he couldn’t help but find it endearing. When he came up with another argument, he added on, “besides, ma would be upset with if she knew I let you freeze. It seems like she loves you more than she loves me sometimes.”

“That’s because she does,” Y/n pointed it out like it was obvious. “Can you blame her? I’m funny and adorable. You’re just a grumpy old man I have to drag to football games.”

“That’s it. Give the sweatshirt back. I hope you freeze.” Thomas was giving her the dirtiest look he could muster. Y/n had the audacity to throw her head back and laugh.

She reached into her purse, and after some digging around, she pulled out a five dollar bill from her wallet. Y/n thrusted the money into Thomas’s hand and pushed him in the direction of the concession stand. “Here. Go get us some popcorn, maybe you won’t be so irritable once you get some food in you. I’m going to go find some seats.”

Thomas grumbled something about “not being irritable” but nonetheless ventured off toward the concessions. Y/n climbed the steps up the stadium and immediately found Abigail sitting in the student section, all decked out in school colors and face paint. Abigail greeted Y/n with a warm hung, then holding her at an arms length, she took note of what her best friend was wearing.

“Is that Thomas’s sweatshirt?” Abigail asked.

Y/n looked down at the the University of Virginia sweatshirt she had wrapped around herself. “Hm? Oh yeah, it is.”

Abigail pursed her lips and mulled over this new information. “What’s going on between you and Thomas?”

“What d’ya mean? We’re friends.” Y/n pursed her lips. 

“And Thomas knows that?” Abigail observed Y/n. “Do you know that?”

Y/n narrowed her eyes at her friend. “Yes, of course I know that. I’m dating Sam now, okay? Thomas and I have always just been friends, and that’s all we’ll ever be.”

Abigail held her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. If you say so, I’ll believe you. I just don’t want any feelings to get hurt between the two of you.”

“There are no feelings between the two of us,” Y/n said, but she wouldn’t stop thinking about Abigail’s words for the rest of the night.

5.

All week, Thomas had dreamt about the mint chocolate chip ice cream that was waiting for him in the freezer. 

It was his favorite flavor, and there was just enough left in the carton for one last bowl. He had promised himself he wouldn’t eat the last of it until he had really deserved it. After spending a productive hour studying for the test he had tomorrow, Thomas decided he had finally earned that delectable bowl of artificially colored green ice cream. 

He made his way to the kitchen, humming an upbeat tune and sliding across the hardwood floor in his socks. Thomas had made it all the way to the freezer when there was a knock at the front door. 

Thomas paused. He was so close to getting his ice cream. Maybe it was just a delivery? He debated answering the bowl or ignoring and continuing to dish himself ice cream. Thomas was leaning toward his bowl of ice cream when there was a knock at the door again. With a scowl on his face, he abandoned the fridge and any hope for happiness he had left and made his way to the front door.

“Y/n?” He said in surprise when he opened the door.

“Hi, Thomas. I didn’t know who else to come to. Abigail’s out with John right now. Dolly and Martha aren’t good in situations like this,” she was speaking quickly, sniffling between sentences, and trying not to let any more tears fall down her cheeks. “I just--”

He interrupted Y/n by pulling her into his house and his arms. Y/n melted into his touch, her hands gripping his shirt as she hugged him back. 

“What happened?” Thomas asked softly, rubbing circles into her back with his thumbs.

“Sam and I broke up.”

Thomas sighed softly and rested his chin on her head. He bit his lip, weighed his options, and came to a reluctant conclusion. Thomas pulled away just enough that he could look Y/n in her bloodshot eyes.

“I think this is the part where we break out the ice cream, huh?”

She offered him a miserable smile. “Ice cream couldn’t hurt.”

He led her to his kitchen and began digging through the kitchen while she hopped onto the counter to sit. Thomas hid a frown from Y/n while in the process of pulling out the nearly empty carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream. 

“So you want to tell me what happened?” Thomas asked, pulling out a bowl from one of the cabinets.

“It wasn’t a bad breakup.” Despite her words, Y/n still wiped at her tears with the sleeves of her shirt. “We mutually agreed it was best for both of us.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “He’s just not... he’s not the one.”

Thomas felt something twist and turn in his stomach, but he knew it wouldn’t be right to be happy when his friend was so miserable. He did his best to hide the smile that wanted to form in the corners of his mouth. “M’sorry about that, honey.”

“I know it was the right decision,” she said, staring up at the ceiling in an attempt not to let any more tears stream down her face. “Doesn’t mean it hurts any less, though.”

“It’s normal to be upset after a break up,” Thomas shrugged.  

“You’re not going to have any ice cream?” Y/n asked quietly as he handed her a singular bowl.

“Not in the mood for it,” he lied. 

6.

“You get enough sleep last night, hon’?”

Y/n was in mid-yawn when he asked her the question. She held a hand over her mouth and nodded. “Yeah. Why?”

“You look terrible.”

She scowled at him. “Wow. Just what a girl wants to hear. Anyone ever tell you you’re a charmer, Thomas Jefferson?”

“You’d be surprised.” He gave her a teasing smile. “So who’s the cause for your sleepless nights?”

“Napoleon Bonaparte.” She held up her textbook for him to see. “Why’d I ever let you convince me to take an AP class with you?”

“Because you like spending time with me?”

“Nah, that’s not it.”

“Ouch.” Thomas held a hand over his heart. “You really stayed up late studying for the quiz?”

“Some people have to study, okay? Not everyone’s as gifted as Thomas flippin’ Jefferson.”

“Flippin’?” He stifled a laugh.

“We’re at school. Gotta keep it PG, right?” She shrugged. “So yeah, I stay up and study sometimes. High schoolers aren’t supposed to get a good amount of sleep. S’not a big deal.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes I worry about you.”

She tilted her head to the side and gave him a small smile. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Believe me, if I could just shut it off, I would. I’ll make you a Quizlet next time so you can get more sleep.”

Y/n was about to say something in response when her phone began ringing in her pocket. “I should get this.”

She went out into the hallway to answer the call, and Thomas turned back to his lunch, not even bothering to hide his smile. 

“Thomas.”

He jumped at the sound of a voice and turned to see Abigail sitting at the desk across from him. Had she been listening to them the whole time? Thomas had completely forgotten she was there; a fact he would be certain not to share with her.

“Yes, Abbie?”

“Do you have a crush on Y/n?” 

Thomas blinked a few times, certain that he hadn’t heard Abigail right. “Excuse me?”

Abigail rolled her eyes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You heard me right, Jefferson. Do you have a crush on Y/n?”

“Y/n? Where’d you get that idea?” Thomas made a face like he was disgusted by the very thought of it.

“Oh, I don’t know. You’re always following her around and doing whatever it takes to make her happy. Not to mention you always call her “hon’,” seems pretty affectionate to me.” Abigail had a talent for laying out the facts.

“We’ve been friends since I can remember, of course I care about her. So what if I have a nickname for her? Doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s not like you have a nickname for anyone else.”

“I call you ‘Abbie’. I have a nickname for everyone.”

“We both know that’s a load of B.S. Are you really telling me you don’t like Y/n?”

“I don’t like Y/n.” And it wasn’t exactly a lie, because the feelings he had for Y/n had progressed far beyond liking. 

7.

“There’s nothing people appreciate more than a hand-made gift, right?” Y/n said, pulling out a ball of azure colored yarn.

Thomas crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against a wall. “Sure, ‘cept maybe a nice Rolex or a new car.”

She scowled at him. “I don’t know what it is about me that makes you think I can afford a Rolex or a new car. I’m an unemployed high school student. My only income comes from birthday cards from my grandparents.”

“Ah, I see. Well, I’m sure Abigail will love the scarf you make for her.”

“Yeah, how hard could it be?” Y/n muttered, staring at the mess of strings in her lap.

Thomas’s eyes widened a little. “You telling me you’ve never crocheted before?”

“How hard could it be?” She pulled up a beginners guide on YouTube, and five minutes later, Y/n had a knotted pile of yarn in her hands. She huffed in frustration and began to aggressively pull at the yarn.

“Let me help.”

“You know how to knit?” Y/n raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

Thomas rolled his eyes, sitting next to her and taking the “scarf” out of her hands. “This is crocheting. You don’t even have knitting needles.”

“Apologies. You know how to crochet?” 

“Lucy went through a stage where she was really into crocheting,” he shrugged. Thomas had quickly untangled Y/n’s “progress” and began to expertly thread together loops of yarn. He held up his work to her once a pattern had begun to form. “See? Perks of growing up with sisters.”

“I hate that you’re good at everything.” 

He snorted and gently began to move the work into Y/n’s hand for her to finish the rest. “’M’not good at everything. Just most things.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Y/n was now laser focused on the project in front of her, determined to get it right this time. Thomas would advise her, but for the most part he let her work on it by herself. She was a fast learner.

“You’re never going to get it like that, hon--” Thomas caught himself, remembering the conversation he had had with Abigail earlier. “Y/n. You’re never going to get it like that, Y/n.”

She looked up at him with furrowed brows. “What?”

He swallowed roughly and shook his head. “It’s nothing. Just... You’re going to want to pull the yarn tighter or it’s all going to unravel later.”

“Oh. Thanks, Thomas.”

8.

It was 2 a.m., and Y/n had already came to terms with the fact that she wasn’t going to get more than five hours of sleep. She wasn’t exactly trying very hard to sleep. She had tried to refresh her Instagram feed maybe a dozen times now, but it wasn’t like anyone was posting in the middle of the night. Instagram was doing a poor job keeping her mind distracted. 

Lightly biting her bottom lip, she threw her body back onto her bed with a loud sigh. She wrinkled her nose and caved, navigating to the facetime app on her phone. Hesitating one last time, Y/n tapped his contact with her thumb. Her phone began to hum while she waited for him to pick up.

“Hey, Thomas. I know it’s late,” she said when he finally answered the phone. Y/n frowned when she saw him rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, no. Couldn’t sleep anyway,” replied his groggy voice.

“You’re lying. Hey, don’t worry about it. Go back to sleep.”

“I was already up.”

“No, you weren’t. Don’t let me bother you.”

Thomas stopped rubbing his eyes and looked at Y/n firmly through the camera. “Maybe I was asleep, but I’m up now, yeah? Don’t worry about waking me up. I’d rather talk to you any way.”

Y/n pursed her lips, giving him a doubtful look. Thomas was too polite to ever tell someone if they were bothering him. She couldn’t tell if he really wanted to talk to her, or if he was just too courteous to tell her otherwise. 

He noticed the look she gave him and rolled his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” 

“Like you don’t believe me. Would’ve stopped bein’ friends with you years ago if I didn’t find all your annoying habits endearing. Promise.” Thomas shot her a smug smile that made her wish she hadn’t called. 

“So kind of you,” she said sarcastically. 

“I try.” His grin widened, if that was even possible. “So what’d you want to talk to me about?”

Y/n chewed on her bottom lip and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t?” Thomas narrowed his eyes and leaned in closer to the camera. After he had examined her carefully, he leaned back and crossed his arms. “Yeah you do. What is it?”

She shifted, uncomfortable by how easy it was for him to see right through her. Once more that night, she caved. “I can’t stop thinking about how you called me ‘Y/n’ earlier today?”

He tensed up but the action was barely noticeable. “What about it? It’s your name.”

“Sure,” she nodded, “but you never call me ‘Y/n.” It’s always ‘hon’’ or ‘honey.’ Always. Did something happen? Are you mad at me?”

Thomas raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “No, ‘course not. Everything’s fine.” He paused. “That really upset you? Me calling you ‘Y/n’?”

“It’s just not normal.”

“It’s not normal for people to call you by your name?”

“It is, but you are supposed to call me ‘honey.’ Okay?”

He laughed through his nose and couldn’t stop an amused smile from spreading on his lips. “Okay, honey.”

9.

“I’m finally going to get to see your mural, then?”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “It’s not my mural, Y/n. It’s the senior mural. It’s not like I’m painting it.”

“Yeah, but it was your idea.” She gave him a playful nudge. “I don’t know why you haven’t told me what it is yet. I’m sure if the great Thomas Jefferson designed it, it’ll be the best Senior mural ever seen at Charlottesville High School.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, hon’. I’d hate to disappoint you.”

“You could never disappoint me,” she said matter-of-factly. “You’re Thomas Jefferson.”

They turned the corner to see their fellow senior, Henrietta Johnston, working on the mural. The previously beige wall was now covered in black, gray, and light blue paint. In the middle of the painting was a figure made up of colorful hand prints standing above the blue-gray sea.

Y/n stared at the mural with an open mouth. She looked from Henrietta to Thomas, then back to the wall in front of her.

“It was my idea to make the figure all colorful with handprints,” Thomas said. “Thought it would be nice to let our class to literally leave a mark on this school.”

Henrietta smiled at the mural and set down her paintbrush. “It was a good idea. The splash of color is just what it needed. What do you think, Y/n? Do you like it?”

“Like it? I love it. It’s... it’s perfect.” She turned to Thomas with wide eyes. “Wanderer above the Sea of Fog. This is my favorite painting.”

“I noticed -- don’t give me that look. It’s not like I care that much. You just never shut up about that painting. It’s annoying, really,” Thomas muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at the ground.

She smiled and turned her attention back to the mural. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I love this. I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Of course. It’s worth it, seeing how much you like it.”

There was a beat of silence.

“You’re the kind of person I could fall in love with, you know that?” She didn’t take her eyes off the painting, and Thomas was glad. 

Maybe if she had looked at him, she would have seen his breath catch in his throat and his eyes widen just a little bit. If he was the kind of person she could fall in love with, then why didn’t she? Thomas was flustered. If Y/n had noticed his lack of response, she didn’t say anything. 

10.

Charlottesville High School was filled with rich kids. The Charlottesville High School debate team had a minimal amount of members. These factors resulted in Thomas and Y/n having their own hotel rooms when they attended a debate function in Washington D.C.

After a long day of debating, Thomas and Y/n walked side by side down the narrow corridor to their respective rooms. Every now and then, they spared looks at each other when they thought the other wouldn’t notice.

Thomas cleared his throat. “So that guy in the green shirt asked me for your number.”

She glanced up at him. “He did? Did you give it to him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Thought he was out of your league. Told him you snored like an ogre and I gave him Maria’s number instead,” he said with a shrug.

She gasped and shoved his shoulder. “Are you kidding me? I don’t snore like an ogre! He was cute and interested in me.”

“Can’t imagine why.”

Y/n scowled. “For your information, I’m adorable. I’m funny and enjoyable to be around. Even if I ‘snore like an ogre’ I’m also extremely attractive, so it makes up for it.”

“You don’t need to sell me on reasons why you’re dateable, honey,” he chuckled softly.

“Oh yeah?”

At the same time, Y/n and Thomas turned to face each other. Their teasing banter stopped when they realized they were only inches apart, he could hear every inhale and exhale. His eyes flicked to her lips. It was only for a second, but she hadn’t missed it. 

Thomas took a step back and cleared his throat. “It’s late, we should go to bed. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she echoed. They both hurriedly stepped into their own rooms. 

Had he almost kissed her? Did that really just happen? Y/n leaned against her hotel room door. Maybe she had just imagined it. She shook her head and grabbed a sweatshirt and a pair of shorts out of her suitcase. Maybe Y/n could stop thinking about it after a good nights rest. She changed and was about to brush her teeth when she felt some kind of nagging feeling inside.

It was naïve to think she was going to get any sleep tonight if she didn’t confront Thomas about it. Y/n set down her toothbrush and made her way out into the fluorescent lit hallway. She had made it all the way to his door when she paused.

Is this really what she wanted to do? If Y/n brought up their almost-kiss, would they be able to go back to friends? Did she even want to go back to friends? Y/n bit her lip and glanced back at her own room door. She should just go to bed, it wasn’t worth putting their friendship in jeopardy. But then again, Y/n would always wonder what could have happened if she didn’t confront him.

She raised her fist to knock on Thomas’s door, but before she could knock, the door swung open. Thomas and Y/n once more stood face to face. She had a wide eyed expression that mirrored Thomas’s.

There was an accelerated heartbeat. A flutter. Thomas’s arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Y/n’s hand found its place on the back of his neck and guided his lips to her’s. His eyes were half open, sneaking glances at her to assure himself he wasn’t dreaming. Her overwhelming scent and the feeling of his hands threaded through her hair was all too real. 

Thomas pulled her into his room, kicking the door closed behind them. Placing both hands on his broad chest, she pushed him back onto the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. 

Thoughts were racing in Y/n’s mind. She tried to put reason to the way he gripped her waist tightly -- there would be bruises there the next day. She tried to put reason to the way his pupils dilated as she went in for another kiss. Y/n came up empty handed.

There was no way Y/n felt the same way, Thomas told himself. There was no way she loved him the way he loved her. For as long as he could remember, he had been in love with Y/n L/n. And for as long as he could remember, she had only seen him as her best friend.

Thomas missed the warmth of her lips when she pulled away, but he couldn’t help but admire the way her lips were swollen and her hair was a mess. Her bright eyes, and the way light highlighted the softness of her skin. Thomas took that moment to memorize every line and curve of her face, branding the memory into his head. 

She leaned in to kiss him again, but he pushed her away this time, sitting up. “Stop. We... we can’t do this. This can’t just be a one time thing.”

“Why not?” Her voice was quiet and delicate.

He felt his heart twist inside his chest and he clenched his jaw. “Because I love you.”

#modern!au #high school au #hamilton #abigail smith/adams is asian american in this fic and you can't change my mind about that #she's probably prez of the feminists club too #never been on a debate team #i have no idea how it works #maybe that's obvious #ANYway #get it thomas #get it y/n ;) #thomas jefferson #thomas jefferson imagine #thomas jefferson x reader #daveed diggs x reader #Daveed Diggs #daveed x reader #hamilton x reader #x reader #reader insert #just finished this at 2 am #can't remember the last time i did any writing during the day #adjusting to a school schedule is going to be the worst #um #why are you still reading my tags

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [1]

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

➜ Words: 3.8k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

Baking is an art form. It takes more than just having ingredients and following a recipe. It’s the flavour, texture, taste, and the presentation. It’s knowing why when things go wrong and how to fix it. It’s knowing the right kinds of ingredients to pick, how much of each should be combined, what techniques and methods to use. Baking is therapy. Baking is scientific. It is art.   The ingredients are as follows: 

Fresh strawberries

Sponge cake

Sugar

Heavy cream

Vanilla extract

You slice the freshly washed strawberries into halves as the stand mixer whips the two cups of heavy cream and quarter cup of sugar into medium peaks. Once you’ve got your components prepared, you slice the cooled sponge cake into two layers and set the bottom layer on a cake board on the turning cake table. You spread the whipped cream evenly with an offset spatula and layer the strawberries with cream on top.    Afterwards, you place the other sponge cake on top and repeat the process.   You finish the shortcake with strawberries on top for decorative purposes and pipe flowers with a twelve inch piping bag.   “Very well done! Everyone give a round of applause for Y/N’s shortcake demonstration.”   The teacher claps and the students around the counter follow suit. “Now it’s time for the real test.”   She begins slicing the cake into pieces, but you’re not nervous whatsoever. You know you did a great job and your strawberry shortcake is worthy of salivating over. And as expected, while your classmates take careful bites and allow the flavour to linger on their tongue, there’s nothing but praise.   “Wow, the sponge cake is so soft and moist.”   “The cream is so smooth.”   “It’s so fluffy.”   “It’s melting in my mouth.”   Even the teacher is nodding as she eats. But of course—   “Isn’t it too sweet?”   Jeon Jungkook has his brows deeply furrowed with a soured expression like he bit into a fucking lemon. His fork is cleaned but he puts the utensil down with a noisy clank, not wanting another bite.    A muscle in your cheek twitches.   “Didn’t you say that last time?”   “Yeah.” He shrugs. “But you didn’t follow my advice. Obviously.”   “Maybe you just have sensitive teeth, Jonhson.”   “I don’t,” Jungkook deadpans, not appreciating how you pretend that you don’t know his name.   “I don’t see anyone else complaining.”   “Because they’re too nice to. If you can’t take criticism, then there’s nothing I can do, Y/N.”   There are eyes flickering around. This happens often enough that no one’s particularly surprised, but there’s still bated breath held amongst your classmates.    You open your mouth to retort. But the teacher eats with a thoughtful look, and then nods. “You’re right, Jungkook. You could lessen the sugar just a tad, Y/N. The strawberries are quite sweet this time around. Just goes to show that ingredients might always change, everyone!”   “Okay.” You force a smile. “I’ll make a note of it.”   “Alright class, now that we saw the demonstration, off you go! Watch that whipping cream! It shouldn’t be soft or hard peaks!”   Everyone turns to leave, but your glare connects with Jeon’s until he turns around all the way.    No matter what you make — Jeon Jungkook always complains that it’s too sweet.    He’s a fucking ass.   “What was up with that?” There are audible murmurs behind you. “I thought they were going to fight.”   “In the kitchen? No. Maybe outside — but you know how it is.”   “They still hate each other over the September incident?”   “Well Jeon almost got Y/N expelled….”   You turn around and once they realize they’ve been caught gossiping, they look away with big eyes and they quicken their hands. “So, uh, pass me the cream!”   “Y-Yeah.”   The teacher brings your attention back as she finishes marking the rubric. “Thanks for doing that demonstration for the whole class, Y/N. Job well done as usual. Just lessen the sweetness and you’re good to go.”   You’re given ninety five percent. Full marks lost because of that asshat.    You hope he can feel your glare on his backside.   Eventually class ends and with your station all cleaned, hands washed, and apron put aside, you leave.    Outside of the room, is the most handsome man on the planet waiting for you. The person who you love wholeheartedly. The person you’re most excited to see. Your person.   He’s dressed in a white turtleneck sweater that you got him last year for his birthday, black jeans, and that baby blue trench that’s always soft to the touch. His dark hair is brushed and he’s leaning against the wall casually. But the glimmer in his sheepish eyes betrays the nonchalant exterior he tries to put on.   And the corner of his plump lip pulls into a tender smile.   “Hey—oof!”   Laughter bubbles out of Seokjin’s mouth and his arms wrap around your frame after you quite literally leaped onto him. You barely manage to pull away from the man, having the strongest urge to stick to him forever.   “I missed you.”   You pout and he grins. “Missed you too, sweetheart.”   You lean in to kiss your boyfriend silly. He holds you by your waist and you greet his plump, soft lips that makes you melt in a chaste peck. After a moment, you break away and he wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Should we go?”   “Yeah.” Your steps sync together. “You won’t believe what happened to me today.”   “What happened? Tell me.”   The pair of you walk down the corridor together as the rest of the class continues to spill out. There are girls who caught sight of the heartwarming interaction and they hold their books to their chest as they sigh wistfully.    “God, I’m so jealous. I want to be in love too. When am I going to get a boyfriend?”   “At this rate, never.”   “Hey! Rude!”   “I’m kidding!” She giggles. “You just won’t get someone like Seokjin.”   “Let’s be real, no one is gonna get someone like Seokjin — he’s just...perfect.”   “They’re such a good couple, aren’t they? They’re gonna have such pretty…” Their voices fade, but Jungkook exits and hears their commentary. He turns to steal a glance at your backside down the hall.   Jungkook scoffs audibly.   “What?” Taehyung catches up to his best friend and swings an arm over his shoulder. The same-height brunette follows his line of sight and hums. “Jealous you’re not in a relationship?”   “As if. It’s just pathetic, is all.” Jungkook looks away and they make their own way to the dining hall.   “You really handed it to Y/N today.” Taehyung grins mischievously. “Like damn. I didn’t think her cake was half-bad. But you’re not scared it’s gonna come bite you in the ass, Kook? Y/N’s gonna hammer you down when it’s your turn for demonstration.”   “So what? Like she knows what she’s even doing.”   “Are you sure about that? She seems pretty decent at what she does to me.”   “Decent isn’t good enough,” he says blankly. “She thinks she’s the shit but she came here to follow her boyfriend.”   Taehyung whistles. “You still mad over September?”   “She just irks me. Always has.”   “Right, didn’t you guys go to high school together? You, Jin and her…”   “We never talked. Whatever, it’s not worth talking about and wasting our time. Hey, what’s on the menu for lunch?”   “You tell me. Jimin never texts us what’s new today. Dude just eats and then goes.”   “What class does he even have right now?”   “Bakery safety and sanitation.”   Jungkook grins, remembering just how nightmarish that class was. “Rip.”   The two of them turn the corner, moving the opposite way from you and Seokjin, and the hallway empties out. 

Anxiousness boils at the pit of your stomach. Today’s the day you’ve been waiting for ever since you found out your application was accepted into the institution and you were successfully enrolled. Whatever results appear, it might dictate where you’re headed in the near and far future. The experience that you gain in these two years will pave the path to your career after all.   “It’s today?” Moonbyul puts down her spoon. “Isn’t the paid internship in May? It’s only November.”   “The posting went up for us in November too,” Hani pipes up past a mouthful of eggs. “Remember?”   “Did it? It was so long ago, I forgot.”   “It was only last year.” Sandeul rolls his eyes. “You haven’t gotten that old.”   “I sure feel like it.”   “Well if anything, you sure look like it.”   “Umm, excuse me?”   “Okay, okay, guys,” Your boyfriend interrupts with a laugh. “You’re freaking out Y/N even more.”   They mutter apologies, but you smile. In an attempt to calm yourself down, you ask, “Where did you guys end up going?” After all, they’re a year ahead of you and they’ve been through the entire process. Any advice is helpful advice at this point.   “Sandeul and I got hired by a hotel,” Hani says, “The Marriott. It was a pretty sweet gig, kind of tough though. Out of the entire class, I think five of us went there in total, so we were pretty lucky that we knew each other. It was long hours, but I learned a lot.”   Sandeul scoffs. “Can’t say I did.”   “When do you ever learn?” Moonbyul bites back.   “My internship was at a private club,” Ken recalls, interjecting as the two of them argue again. “But all I baked was bread all day. It was awful.”   “Oh god.” You look to Seokjin. “What if I have to bake bread all day? I hate yeast.”   Jin laughs and he lifts his thumb to affectionately swipe at the corner of your mouth, getting the spaghetti sauce off your skin where you missed. “You’ll be fine. Promise. You’ll probably get hired at a catering company like I did. Or maybe a pastry shop.”   “God, I hope so.”   “Which did you apply to?” Hani asks, playing with her noodles.   “Just a bunch of them. Restaurants, catering companies, shops. I applied to I think ten.”   “Oh, you should be fine then.”   “But I heard sometimes they put you in ones you didn’t apply for.”   “That rarely happens. Don’t worry about it.” She bats the air with her hand, easing your worries a little more.   Your boyfriend smiles warmly. “See? Told you so.”   You nod and check the time. It’s five minutes to noon. And with that realization, you get up. “We should go.”   “Don’t they email you?” Sandeul asks, pulling himself away from his argument with Moonbyul and ignoring whatever half-hearted and playful insult she throws his way.   “Yeah, but the physical posting gets put up faster.” You’re jittery, hopping on both feet and Jin chuckles before he gets up too, taking your food tray and his to dump into the trash.   They wish you all the luck you need and you’re off with Seokjin by your side.   You’re excited and afraid, not exactly sure what to expect. You just hope you get your internship by the same catering company as the one Seokjin had. They liked him enough that they’ve ensured him a position after he graduates. If they hire you too and you do well enough, they’ll hire you back and you’ll get to work with him. It would be absolutely perfect.   You can already imagine it. A small apartment in the city. Working together. Coming home together. There’s not a better plan out there.   The hallway is crowded with lots of people pushing past to look at the posting. There are loud conversations, eager claps and cheers, to disappointed sighs and whines.    “Wait here, okay?” You turn to Jin, not wanting him to be stepped on or pushed by the crowd.    “I’ll be right here.” He squeezes your hand before letting go.    And you push past the horde of students. “Excuse me, excuse me. Sorry…”   “Aw man, I have my internship at a grocery store?! This sucks.” — “The hell is Dog World.” — “Oh my god, oh my god! I got into the East Wood Country Club! Fuck yes!”   Finally, you stumble out of the crowd to the very front. The list is grouped together by locations and you search your name on the paper posting. After an antagonizing minute, you find it. “Kim’s…..Wedding Cake Company….”   Blood drains from your face. It runs cold.   Jeon Jungkook is coming with you.   //   You stomp your foot and cross your arms. You’ve been pouting for the past hour. But you can’t help the distress — not when you were still unable to comprehend it. It was the worst news on Earth. You thought your eyes were wrong, that maybe the posting or printer made a mistake, but the email wasn’t any different either.   “I can’t believe I have to go with that jerk! It’s all ruined!”   “I know, baby.” Seokjin pouts with you, sympathizing with your situation. He pulls you in to plant a kiss at the top of your head. “But you’ll be okay. Promise.”   The way he says it calms your nerves, but that doesn’t mean you still aren’t frustrated to no end.   There was only one paid internship to be done. One that was supposed to pave your way, help with the rest of your career, teach you things that couldn’t be learned through lectures and classroom work. But your one shot is destroyed. In shambles. What should be a fantastic experience is going to be a dreadful one.   Why did things never go right for you?   “I just….I just really wanted to be hired at your company.” You look up at him, eyes stinging and glossy with tears that threaten to shed.    Your plans are ruined.   “It’s okay. You can always apply after graduation.”    “I know.” You sigh. “But of all people, why him?”   A few hours later, the pair of you catch up with your friends at the dining center for dinner, and they quickly notice the way you’re not necessarily jumping for joy, but rather grieving. “Not...good news, I presume?”   Moonbyul gasps. “Did you not get hired anywhere-OW!” She rubs the spot where Sandeul smacked the back of her head for being tactless.   “It’s not that,” you reassure them with a small smile. “My internship is at Kim’s Wedding Cake Company.”   Ken’s eyes are enlarged. “Oh shit.”   “Wedding cakes?!” Hani sharply inhales. “That’s brutal.”   “No, it’s not that either. I don’t mind. It’s just…” You steal a glimpse at your boyfriend. For one, you wanted to go where he went and secondly— “I’m with Jeon Jungkook.”   “Who?” Ken asks, brows furrowing.   “You know, the black haired kid,” Moonbyul says in an attempt to jog his memory.   But the man’s impassive expression doesn’t waver or alter. “You literally described at least a quarter of the population.”   “The one that looks like a rabbit, you idiot.” Hani makes grand gestures. “The deer-looking fellow. You know, the cute one.”   “Right!” He snaps his fingers, as if that was enough to remember him by.   You shake your head. “He’s not cute. He’s an ass. Steer clear territory.”   “Can’t you steer clear from him?” Sandeul asks before he slurps up his carbonara and then chews in his cheek. “There’s like what— four or five kids coming with you? You can probably avoid him if you wanted to.”   “No.” It dawns on you just how bad the circumstances are. “Apparently only two of us are going there. At least I didn’t see anyone else assigned to that place. It’s only going to be just him and I.”   “Yikes.”   “Not helping, Hani.” Seokjin gives her a look that makes her sheepish and mumble an apology. “It’s not going to be that bad.” He reaches for your hand underneath the table, a private place without the prying eyes of his friends. “It’s only for three months and it’s during summer. It won’t happen for quite some time.”   “Yeah.” You squeeze your hand tenderly with his.    It’s wondrous how effective Seokjin’s reassurance is. You feel like there’s no reason for you to be afraid, for you to dread the inevitability. He makes you feel like you could take on anything.   All plans have their obstacles. Maybe this is just yours. Things always have a way of working out after all. You’ll get your experience, do your internship without talking to him, and then apply where Jin will be working after. You just have a feeling — call it your intuition — that it’ll work out.   //   But you’re still somewhat unsettled. You wonder if there’s a way you could switch. At least it wouldn’t hurt to take your chances and ask, then you knew you tried and did all you could. So with a hopeful heart, you approach the office area and open the door. The secretary is gone from her desk, maybe gone to take a bathroom or coffee break, so you take a seat in the waiting area.   One second passes before you overhear a familiar voice that you’ve grown to detest.   “—don’t see how I’m qualified at all! I haven’t even learned about wedding cakes yet!” The frustration is tangible. “It’s a course for next year!”   “Then you’ll get a head start from your classmates, Jungkook.”   There’s an audible sigh and his voice becomes calmer. “Miss. Kang, please. I just don’t understand how I could be put in something I didn’t even apply for.”   “What do you want to do, Jungkook?”   “Pardon?”   “What is it that you want to do after you’ve gotten your diploma?”   “I want to be a chocolatier.” There’s a pause. “A Master Chocolatier. I want to compete in The World Chocolate Masters. That’s why I applied for Oliver’s and Tokyo Confectionery. Spending my time and my internship at a place that does chocolate is important to me. Not wedding cakes.”   “Well, you’re lucky then. I personally know the couple that runs Kim’s Wedding Cake Company. They’re good friends of mine and the man who runs the place with his wife is actually a chocolatier. He studied in Paris and has been in the industry for more than ten years. I feel like you could learn a lot from him, Jungkook. Remember, it’s not the place you go to, but the mentor that you have. Think it over. Give it a few days. If you still have concerns, we can talk about it.”   Jungkook huffs in exasperation and grabs his bag. He mutters a reluctant ‘thank you’ before leaving the office. He doesn’t take one look back but on his way out, he catches you staring straight at him in the waiting area. His steps slow but then he scoffs, looks away and walks out.   When you get a chance to talk to the lady organizing internships, it’s brief — she apologizes and tells you there’ll be no changes made. There’s no arguing, you know that much. Not when Jungkook quite literally tried every desperate plea in the book.   You end up leaving and at the same exact time, Jungkook exits the men’s locker area, changed back into his regular attire. The two of you nearly bump heads, running into each other.   “Are you following me?” he flat out asks when your eyes meet.   You raise a brow, freezing in the middle of the hallway. “Excuse me?”   “Are you following me,” he repeats with a sharp tongue, obviously still peeved over his previous interaction with Miss. Kang. But you don’t know why he’s putting it on you and making such outlandish accusations. There was absolutely no limit to his cockiness.   “Get your head out of your ass, Johnson. I don’t have the time or day to follow you around.”   “Then what are you doing here?”   “I don’t think I need to tell you where I am or what I do.”   “Whatever.” Jungkook rolls his eyes and brushes past you.   But you turn onto your heel and shout after him—   “Do you really think you’ll make it?”   “What?” He shifts around to glare. His thick brows are knitted, mouth downturned.   “Do you really think you’ll make it as a chocolatier?” You meet his eye and a smirk pulls on your features. A rush of air leaves your nose in a snort. “You? Really? You want to compete in The World Chocolate Masters? That’s cute.”   “At least I have actual ambitions and goals and I’m not here for the sake of my boyfriend.”   “Excuse me? What are you trying to say?”   “Don’t play dumb and act like you didn’t follow your little boyfriend here.”   “You don't know anything about me, Jeon.”   “I don’t? I know that you’re not passionate about baking, that’s for sure. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have fucking stolen—”   “Fuck you,” you spit. “I didn’t.”   “Yeah right.” Jungkook scoffs. “Get real, Y/N.”   He gets the last word. Jeon Jungkook turns around, walking away with his bag slung over his shoulder. You shout insults after him but he ignores it, making you look like the fool.   Tears sting your eyes and your teeth grit. He’s an asshole through and through. You don’t know why you even bother wasting your breath.    If Seokjin was the most patient, kindest person and the person that you love the most — then Jeon was the complete opposite. You will forever detest his very being.   //   Your hand is squeezed and you’re brought out of your thoughts.   “Babe? What’s wrong?”   You look to your boyfriend. That’s right — you love him and this man loves you. There’s nothing else that could ever matter more than this. “Nothing. I just had...a really long day today.”   Seokjin stops walking and spreads open his arms wide. He gestures to you. “Come here.”   A smile pulls into your features and you jump into him. Jin laughs, stumbling back as you cuddle into his chest. His arms wrap securely around your frame, shielding you from the cold, from the darkness of the night.   You feel safe.   “I love you.”   He hums and kisses the top of your head. You’re beginning to feel better already.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #bts seokjin #bts slice of life #bts slice of life au #jungkook series #Y'ALL THIS IS GONNA BE THE SWEETEST THING Y'ALL EVER DARN READ #istg reading and editing ch 1 again brings tears to my eyes #im so excited to finally share this series #I HOPE YOU'RE READY

[thadelightfulone]

All I Want... 25 Days of Christmas Challenge, Day 4

November 21st - Part 1

DeeDee stretched out her arms, hitting another warm body. Startled, she jumped up and almost fell out of the bed. She looked over to see Phyllis and Beverly laid askew on her bed still in their club clothes. She glanced down and saw that she was smart enough to take her jeans off. Rubbing her eyes, she headed to the bathroom to clean up. 

When she came out, neither one of them had moved. Just dead to the world, she shook her head. DeeDee really loved her girls, but remembered that this is why she rarely went out with them anymore. More often than not, she never remembered what happened, her body hurt the next day, or both. She threw on a tank top and some sweats, then pulled her long curls up into a messy bun.

She walked into her living room and decided to make some tea. As the water boiled, she stepped out of the small kitchen to do a few stretches and release the tension in her body. DeeDee stood with her legs shoulder width apart, then leaned over and just let her body hang down with the tips of her fingers brushing the floor. She swayed side-to-side before slowly rolling back up as soon as the kettle whistled.

DeeDee chose her favorite ginger and lavender loose leaf tea, added the tea ball to her mug, then poured the water over it. Since she was working on autopilot, she recited her morning affirmations. With her cup of tea prepared, she went out onto her patio and set it down. She popped back inside to grab her laptop from her desk. 

After her temporary work space was set up, DeeDee sat back on her wooden chaise lounger, then grabbed her mug and inhaled the calming aroma. She booted up her laptop and sipped on her tea. The blinking email icon drew her attention. 

DeeDee opened the application and saw a few emails regarding her inquiries into other tenure-track positions. When she saw the latest email to arrive, she inhaled too deeply and started to choke as the hot tea coated her throat. She set the mug down on the small table and waved her hands as she tried to catch her breath and allow cool air into her mouth. Once settled, DeeDee looked into her apartment to see if she woke Phyllis and Beverly and whether they were nearby. 

“Oh my god, he wrote back.” She whispered out and pulled the computer into her lap. 

DeeDee clicked on the link, took a deep breath and read his email. 

“Awww, so he remembers what he wrote all those years ago -- that’s so sweet. Wait, what!?! He wishes that kind of love for me?” DeeDee smiled and closed her eyes at that. “Oooop, okay why did he just say what Phyll said?” She chuckled at the thought.

“Who said what I did?” Phyllis slowly made her way over to DeeDee, who immediately slammed the laptop close. 

“No one. I was just reading a story.” She grabbed her tea to occupy her hands.

“Liar, what you hiding?” Beverly walked around and grabbed the computer from DeeDee’s lap. 

She sat at the end of the chaise and opened the laptop. Beverly waved Phyllis over and patted the area to the left of her. Phyllis looked over at DeeDee and smirked.

“He really wrote you back?” 

“Now that is a story.” Phyllis laughed, “Oh, he thought he sounded like a lame little virgin, too? Good to know.

“So, what are you writing back?” Beverly asked.

DeeDee sipped her tea, “Ummm --” 

“You may want to ask about him skipping over the biggest part of your original email.” Phyllis interjected. 

“I missed that. Do you think maybe he’s married?” Bev looked between the both of them.

“Hey, can I just answer the man’s question first before asking about his personal relationships?” DeeDee put her tea back on the table.

“Fine, what are you gonna say?” 

“Phyll, just stop.” DeeDee leaned forward and snatched the laptop. “I don’t know yet. Why are you so worried about it?”

Phyllis put her hands up, “Okay, my bad. Sorry.” She turned to Beverly, “I got work in a few hours. Do you need a ride home?”

“Yeah, let me grab my stuff.” Beverly ran back into the apartment. 

“Be careful, Dee. You know nothing about this man, and he could tell you anything.”

“I know, Phylly Phyll. It’s harmless, so I’ll be fine.” DeeDee shrugged at her. “I promise. I can handle it.”

Beverly came back out, “Gimme love. We gotta go.”

DeeDee stood up, gave out hugs and walked them to the door.

When they left, she walked back onto her patio and stood at the end of the chaise. She  knew Phyllis was right to warn her. But DeeDee figured if he did not acknowledge finding his parents’ love, then he already had it. Knowing that, there was nothing for her to be worried about, especially since she was never gonna meet him. She was gonna send him a response and call the whole thing done. 

DeeDee paced around her chaise while she thought over how to answer his question. When it finally came to her, she sat down and picked up the computer and started to type. 

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’ 

Hi Dr. Stevens,

To answer your question --  I am kind of nosey. After finding the note, I was curious about the kind of person who would write about finding a love like that. I just never expected to find out that the note predated my arrival to Southern. GO JAGUARS!!!  

Anyways, I guess I could ask you the same question -- why would you respond to some random stranger sending you an email about a long-forgotten note? 

Thank you. I hope you enjoy your weekend as well.

DeeDee

---

Erik usually ran 3 miles in the mornings before the sun rose, but decided to enjoy a lazy morning. It was Saturday and for once, he was not expected in the office. When he finally got up at 9, he changed into a compression tank and some workout shorts. He decided to go to the park up the block and run a few laps around the track since he knew it would be open by now. 

As Erik passed by the basketball courts, he saw a group of teenagers chilling on the benches.

“Yo, Mr. E!” A voice called out. 

He recognized most of them from the Center, when he actually ran some of the afterschool programs. Erik slowed up his pace and headed towards the courts. A couple of them looked up as he came over. He dapped them all up. 

“What up, Jax?”

“You want to play some ball?” The tallest kid in the group spoke up again.

Erik looked at his watch, “Yeah, I got some time to run a few games.”

It was early afternoon when Erik parted ways with the neighborhood boys, who all promised to drop by the Center. As he made his way back onto his street, he jogged backwards and waved towards his neighbors as he made his way back to the house. 

Erik went to the kitchen to grab some water. While he was drinking, the chime on his tablet went off. He walked to where it laid on his counter and then remembered that Marquis was supposed to send him the details for the Retirement party. He could look at it later, so he went upstairs to wash up.

After coming back downstairs in a hoodie and some sweats, Erik went to his fridge to figure out what to eat for lunch. He pulled out some chicken breasts, zucchini, squash, carrots and some red bell peppers. He went to his cabinets to get some penne. Roasted Pasta Primavera was calling his name. 

Erik started boiling the pasta and set everything else on the counter. He then turned on his favorite Spotify list before he chopped up and seasoned all the chicken and vegetables. He hummed along to Meshell Ndegeocello, and pulled out both a saute and sheet pan. Erik dropped the chicken into the hot pan, threw the vegetables in the oven and checked on the pasta when the music was interrupted by a text message coming through. 

Quis: Check your email. I just sent you the details.

Erik picked up the tablet and noticed he had 15 unread emails. Marquis’ email was on top, just sent within the last 10 minutes. He sat down at the counter, and noticed most were from work. He would look at those later. Before Erik set the tablet back down, he saw the now familiar subject line from DeeDee. He opened it to see how she responded to his question.

Erik smiled when she owned up to her nosiness. But he couldn’t blame her, it was the same reason he sent her a response. That and loneliness, but it’s not like he has to share that part.

“Oh, that’s cute.” He chuckled when she cheered for Southern. “And she got me.” 

He stared at the last part of her email and then set the tablet down. Erik needed a moment to figure out how to address the question she asked. He turned around to continue cooking.

Erik checked on the pasta, chicken, and vegetables. He flipped the chicken and took the pasta off the burner to drain. He grabbed a big bowl and added the pasta to it. The veggies needed a few more minutes, so he pulled out butter to build the sauce. 

With the chicken done, Erik added the butter, some fresh parsley and basil into the saute pan. He mixed everything together with the chicken and vegetables, and then added it to the pasta. He left everything to settle in the bowl.

Erik returned to where the tablet was on his island and began typing out his response. Happy with what he wrote, he sent the email and went to make a plate.

---

DeeDee just finished folding up her laundry when she heard a familiar chime. She went to her desk to see which device had an alert. She was waiting for her pizza to be delivered since didn’t feel like cooking. Nothing appeared on her phone, so she looked over at her computer. 

“Well, that was quick.” She smiled and brought the laptop to the couch. She sat down and read Erik’s latest email.

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Good afternoon DeeDee, 

Well, it can’t possibly be a long-forgotten note if I remember it and where I left it, right? 

But to answer your question - I was just as curious about the person who found my note and actually deciphered the key phrases I had randomly placed on the page. It says a lot about you.

Something tells me that besides tricking others into thinking that you read one of my articles, you must be a Chemistry or Biochemistry major. 

And now that you know who I am. If you actually ever need some help, I am a great resource.

E

Oh, and please call me Erik. I haven’t been called Dr. Stevens in years.

Just as DeeDee finished reading the email, her doorbell rang. She put the computer down and jumped up to answer the door. She put the pizza on her coffee table and went to the kitchen. She grabbed a glass and a chilled bottle of wine. 

She popped the cork and poured her first glass. DeeDee took a sip before she looked back at the email. 

“Call you Erik, huh?” Taking another sip, she set the glass down and picked up her laptop. “Well, Erik, it’s nice to meet you.” She giggled and tapped out her response.

SUBJECT: RE: ‘MgYHeArTaNdSOULa’

Good evening Erik, 

You have a point. We would not be chatting now if you didn’t know what I was talking about. 

And you are correct. I am actually a doctoral student focusing on Environmental Toxicology. So, I know why I needed the book, but what about you? That seems a little advanced for a Computer Science major.

Actually, there is something that you can help me with. Why did you leave the note in the book? And you never did say whether you found what you were looking for?

Sincerely, 

Curious DeeDee  

DeeDee read it over and hit ‘send.’ She opened up the pizza and pulled a piece out. She took a big bite and moaned around it. Her night is off to a great start.

Taglist: @teakturn @ghostfacekill-monger @shaekingshitup @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @woahitslucyylu @ladymac82 @bugngiz @eyeknowmywrites​ @ajspencer1892​ @arafatih​ @issimplyaamazinggg​ @tchallasbabymama​

#25 days of christmas challenge #erik killmonger x oc #black panther fanfiction #bp christmas #all i want #thadelightfulone

[checkurwindow]

ten ways

Book: Open Heart

Warning: So sweet your dentist would be concerned Rating: General Pairing: Bryce x F!MC Word count: 6500+ Author’s note: I finally wrote something that isn’t angst and oh god is it long. I spent so much time on this so please please consider reblogging and let me know what you thought of it, and maybe check out my masterlist while you’re at it.

1.

There was truly no better way to start off senior year than arriving late to her first class. 

In her defense, she had left the house early. For once in her life, she was actually going to be early to school. She was so proud of herself, and was so certain that she had extra time that she allowed herself to stop at a drive-thru and get a drink as a reward to herself. Everything was going according to plan. 

That is, until the lady in the car in front of her decided she wasn’t pleased with her order and made the barista redo it; and to make sure he didn’t mess up her order a second time, the barista was extra careful. And extra slow. 

She groaned as she watched the time tick pass minute by minute. Just her luck. 

She watched the barista hand the drink to the lady in front and breathed a sigh of relief. Yet, the car didn’t move, not a single inch. The drink was already in her hand, but the lady just had to continue to talk with the barista. 

She cursed under her breath and banged her head on the steering wheel in frustration. She must’ve been more aggressive than she was expecting, because her horn went off, and loudly at that.

She jumped back in shock at the noise. The lady poked her head out of her car window and immediately began lecturing her on how rude she was being. At least, that’s what she assumed she was saying, she really couldn’t hear her with her windows rolled up. She bit her lip, gave a little wave, and mouthed an apology.

Eventually, the lady finished her rant and left the drive-thru. She got her drink, no longer a reward and more of a consolation, and sped to school.

There weren’t any other students in the parking lot by the time she got there, only a reminder of just how late she was. Shoving all her things back inside her backpack, she locked the door and hurried into the building.

Of course, her first class just had to be with Mr. Anderson. Any other teacher would have just let her tardiness slide, but not him, never him. She opened the door to his classroom, and any conversation that had been going on stopped. 

More than a dozen pairs of eyes turned their attention to her, and she wanted to melt into the floor right then and there. 

“Nice of you to finally join us,” Mr. Anderson addressed her. He narrowed his eyes at the nervous student, leaning against his desk as he sized her up, “if you’re done being a distraction to my class, I’d appreciate it if you would take a seat.

She swallowed roughly and nodded. He went back to lecturing the class on how his classes would be conducted, and she did her best to find a seat as quietly as she could. Instinctively, she made her way over to where her friends were sitting.

Bryce moved his backpack off the desk next to him and quietly whispered, “I saved you a seat.” 

She gave him a grateful smile and mouthed back a ‘thanks’.

Sienna leaned forward, “Anderson really wasn’t amused with you, huh?”

“I swear he hates me,” she insisted.

Bryce rolled his eyes, “he doesn’t hate you, Boo.”

“Bryce is right,” she said, “everyone knows he just hates women,” she stressed the last part with exaggerated disgust.

2. 

Late-night study sessions had evolved to become code for hanging out at Danny’s house and messing around. 

Sienna was dating Danny, so naturally, she had become friends with him and his friends by association. Sienna, Aurora, and her were actually trying to study. Danny and Elijah were discussing the school football team’s chances of winning their next game, and Jackie and Bryce were in the kitchen getting snacks and undoubtedly bickering about something completely irrelevant. 

“Okay, Sienna,” Aurora held up a flashcard, “what can you tell me about the defenestration of Prague?” 

“Uh, people were thrown out of windows for fun?” She replied, barely having read that chapter of the textbook.

“No- well, actually, I suppose you’re technically not completely wrong.”

She let her body fall back against the back of the couch and closed her eyes. If she had to stay there any longer, she would’ve thrown herself out the window. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to hang out with her friends, it was just that after a long day of school, she wasn’t exactly thrilled to spend more time with the people she had already spent most of the day with. 

“Sorry I’m late, I just spent the better part of the last hour trying to explain to a group of freshmen that I won’t be dating or teaching “my ways” to any one of them,” he shuddered dramatically as he walked into the living room where everyone was.

“Ah yes, I almost forgot I was friends with the Bryce Lahela,” she said overdramatically.

He rolled his eyes but decided to amuse her nonetheless, “what can I say, I’m just clearly superior.”

She scoffed but refused to dignify him with any further response. Instead, she closed her eyes and pretended she was back at home under her warm, soft covers. 

“I brought you food.”

That caught her attention. Cautiously opening an eye to see if he was telling the truth, she was met with the sight of him holding up a bag of fast food that he must have picked up on his way over. She couldn’t help the growing smile on her face as she sat upright. 

“For me?” She asked.

“Of course, Munchkin” he handed the bag over to her, “you skipped lunch to finish up the science project you were behind on and I’m certain you haven’t gotten around to eating anything yet,” he said confidently.

She happily pulled an order of large fries out of the bag, “have I ever told you how amazing you are, Bryce?”

He smiled, “not often enough.”

“Well, you are. So amazing.”

She had just finished the fries and was looking through the back to see what else he had gotten her when Danny called out to her.

“What are your thoughts on Rafael?” He asked.

“Aveiro?”

“Yep.”

She tilted her head, “he’s okay, pretty cute. Why?”

“He told me he likes you, even wanted me to ask if you were single?” Danny said nonchalantly.

Sienna immediately got invested and joined in on the conversation, “she is very single, and I for one think they would be a great couple!”

She could feel her cheeks begin to heat up, and suddenly she found the hardwood floors very interesting, “I don’t know…he actually likes me?”

“That’s what he told me,” Danny replied, “can I give him your number?”

She weighed her options before giving a careless shrug, “Yeah, why not?” 

“You and Rafael? I knew this day would come,” Aurora commented.

“Okay, we’ve talked about this long enough. We need to study,” she insisted, pulling out her textbook.

“I’d rather not fail this test,” Bryce agreed.

Everyone begrudgingly went back to their previous activities, and Bryce took that opportunity to fill up the space next to her on the couch. She flipped through pages of her textbook before coming to a stop. She passed the textbook to Bryce and pointed to a large picture on the page.

“This one’s my favourite,” she said. 

“Wanderer above the Sea of Fog,” he read,  “you’re a fan of Caspar David Friedrich?”

She shrugged, “I guess I’m just a fan of the Romantic moment in general. Everything was so creative and beautiful. I just think it’s crazy how this painting holds so much emotion.”

Bryce frowned, looked at the painting, then back at her, “it certainly is romantic.”

She gave the painting one last look before she began flipping through the pages of the textbook again. Bryce watched her curiously as she read over the vocabulary words for that week. After a while, he decided to say what was on his mind. 

“So,” he broke the silence, “you and Rafael, huh?”

“Yeah,” suddenly, the furry carpet on the floor looked beyond interesting, “I used to have a crush on him in middle school, remember?”

His mouth broke out into a smile, “Sienna and I used to tease you about it all the time! No wonder you’re so bad at chemistry,” he joked. 

“I happen to be pretty extraordinary at chemistry, thank you very much.”

“Hm, I think that botched experiment that nearly killed Mrs. Durnam tells a very different story,” he said, and she playfully punched his arm. 

“She’s still alive, isn’t he? Plus, you were the one who didn’t make me double-check!”

He had an amused look on his face, “keep telling that to yourself, babe.”

3.

He was tired, the sheets were too hot. It had been a long day, his body was exhausted. The air in his bedroom was too cold, his mind was tired, too. If he would just close his eyes and stop thinking, he’d be asleep in mere minutes. Now the sheets were hot again, so he kicked them off. Then the air was too cold, so he pulled the sheets over him again. Not thinking ironically proved to be harder than perceived. Go then if you must, but remember, no matter how fooli- damn it, Sophocles, damn your terribly beautiful words.

Bryce threw the covers onto the other side of the bed and sat up. He wasn’t going to get much sleep that night no matter how hard he tried, anyway, no need to lie to himself. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, if there even had been any sleep in the first place.

There was no doubt that he was tired both mentally and physically. But emotionally? His heart was eternally restless when it came that. He crossed his room and sat down at the expensive wooden desk, fully accepting that getting any rest that night was no longer a viable option.

The bright light from his computer was a harsh contrast to the darkness of the room, but his eyes adjusted soon enough. Bryce didn’t even know what he was doing on his computer in the middle of the night. 

But his subconscious knew. His fingers opened up the application and started scrolling. No, no, yes. God, no. yes, definitely, perfect. And that went on for an hour or so, though Bryce wasn’t exactly keeping track of time. He’d be near-dead at sunrise, but he wasn’t going to get any sleep until he finished. 

When he actually did finish, he smiled contentedly to himself. A wave of calmness washed over him, and before he knew it, he was face down and lost in his dreams asleep.

He looked terrible the next morning. Well, as terrible as Bryce Lahela could look. He still dressed as great as always, even styling his hair with a little more volume than usual. He was still sharp as ever in class, but anyone who really knew him could tell that he was a total mess. 

“Hey, you okay?” She asked during lunch in Mr. Jericho’s classroom (He had been kind enough to let a bunch of teenagers spend lunch in his class; the cafeteria just wasn't cool enough for them).

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine.”

She cocked her head to one side, “no you aren’t, spill.”

“Don’t worry about me. I actually have a little something for you,” Bryce fished his phone out of his pocket.

“You have something for me?”

“Sending it now. Aaaand…...check your phone!”

She raised an eyebrow and cautiously unlocked her phone to look at the text he had sent to her.

“Sophocles and Serotonin,” she read off her phone, “ what is this?” 

“I made you a playlist of songs that I thought you’d like.”

“Seriously?” A smile emerged on her lips, and Bryce couldn’t help himself but to reflect it, “When did you even have the time for this?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, “I happened to have free time last night.”

“With Mr. Anderson's early deadlines? I smell a steaming hot pile of bullshit, Lahela,” She looked up at him, a teasing lilt prominent in her tone, “I appreciate the playlist even more now that I know you took the time out of your night to make it. Thank you, Bryce.”

She leaned forward on the desk she was seated on and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He froze like a deer in headlights, and if she noticed, she definitely didn’t say anything. He compiled himself back together before she could notice that his usual smirk wasn’t as smug as it usually was, and leaned back against the desk behind him in an attempt to look cool. 

“So, what’re you doing after school?” He asked in his best casual voice. 

“Rafael and I are going to see a movie.”

“That’s actually still a thing?”

She shot him a look that made him raise his hands up in surrender, “Yes, it’s still a thing. He’s a good guy, I really like him.” 

“But is he good enough for you?” He crossed his arms, eyes not leaving hers. It wasn’t that Bryce didn’t like Rafael. Rafael was great, but no guy would ever be good enough for his best friend. 

“He is,” She said with an eye roll, “why do you care anyway?”

“Just looking out for you, Sweetheart.”

“I can take care of myself perfectly fine, Scout.”

His eyebrows shot up his forehead, an impressed look across his face, “trust me, I know.”

4. 

Summer felt like an eternity ago, when in reality, it had been less than two months ago The yellow-orange leaves and updated Starbucks menu was enough to convince anyone that it was already October. 

It took a lot of sweet-talking and a tiny bit of bribery to convince Bryce to attend the Homecoming football game, but with Sienna’s assistance, she eventually got him to cave. She wanted him there, but more importantly, she wanted him to give her a ride there. 

Of course, she could have taken her own car, but she would much rather not waste her own gas when she could take advantage of his instead. It wasn’t like it mattered to him, his parents paid for his car, insurance, and gas anyway. Plus, the seat warming function in his cushy Mercedes Benz was a huge incentive.

She spent most of the ride over to the stadium raving over the seat warmers, and he spent most of the ride making fun of how obsessed she was with said seat warmer. Eventually, they parked outside and paid for the entrance fees. 

“It’s kinda co-” before she could even finish her sentence remarking the cold weather, Bryce handed her a comfy looking (and feeling) sweatshirt. She looked down at the maroon sweatshirt, then back at him, her mouth slightly ajar, “You brought an extra sweatshirt for me? I didn’t even ask.”

“You didn’t need to,” he shrugged. 

She put on the sweatshirt and stared at him with wide eyes. Bryce glanced at her, bit the inside of his lip, then shook his head, “Don’t go thinking I care about you or anything now, Lovey. I couldn’t have you taking the sweatshirt I’m wearing, then I’d freeze up. 

She looked up at him with a smug grin on her face that made him regret bringing her the sweatshirt in the first place, “Yeah? Is that really all it was?”

“Yes, that’s all, Sunshine,” he did his best to act all annoyed by her questioning, but instead found it endearing in the end. 

It took him a moment, but eventually, he came up with a half-decent excuse, “besides, you know my grandma would kill me if she knew I let you freeze. I swear, sometimes it seems like she loves you more than she loves me.”

“That’s because she does,” she pointed it out like it was the only possibility, “can you blame her? I’m funny and adorable. You’re just a grumpy old man that I had to drag to this game.”

“That’s it. Take the sweatshirt off, I hope you freeze,” he said with the dirtiest look he could muster and she had the audacity to throw her head back and laugh.

She reached into her bag, and after digging around, she pulled a five-dollar bill out of her wallet. Thrusting the money into Bryce’s hand and pushing him in the direction of the concession stand, “here, go get some popcorn for us. Maybe then you won’t be so irritable once you get some food in you, I’ll find us some good seats.’

Bryce grumbled something about “you’re irritable” but nonetheless ventured off towards the concession stand. 

She climbed the steps up the stadium and immediately found Sienna and Danny sitting in the student section, all decked out in their school colours and face paint. Sienna greeted her with a warm hug. 

Pulling back, Sienna took note of what she was wearing, “is that Bryce’s?”

She looked down at the Stanford sweatshirt she had wrapped around herself, “Oh yes, it’s pretty comfortable, actually.”

Sienna pursed her lips and mulled over the new information, “What’s going on between the two of you?”

“What do you mean? We’re friends,” she shrugged.

“And Bryce knows that?” She paused, “Do you know that?”

She narrowed her eyes at Sienna, “Yes, of course I know that. I’m dating Rafael now, okay? Bryce and I have always just been friends, and that's all we’ll ever be.” Sienna nodded her head, “Okay, okay. If you say so, I believe you. I just don’t want anyone to get hurt, I care about both of you.”

“There aren’t any feelings between Bryce and I, don’t worry,” she said, but those words didn’t leave her mind for the rest of the night.

5. 

Bryce had spent a significant amount of the week dreaming about the coffee and cookie dough ice cream that was waiting for him in the freezer.

It was his favourite flavour, and there was just enough left in the carton for one last bowl of that sweet sweet goodness of a food. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t eat the last of it until he really deserved to. After spending his afternoon being productive and studying for the test he had tomorrow, he decided that he finally earned that delectable bowl of unhealthy but utterly delicious caramel-colored ice cream. 

He made his way down to the kitchen, humming an upbeat tune and sliding across the smooth marble floor in his most comfortable pair of socks. Bryce had made it all the way to the freezer, barely moments away from the compartment holding his currently most prized possession when a hasty knock at the front door stopped him in his tracks.

He paused. He was oh so close to getting to his ice cream; maybe it was just a delivery? He debated answering the door or ignoring it and getting the ice cream first. He was starting to lean towards just going for his bowl of ice cream when there was a knock at the door again. With a scowl on his face, he abandoned the freezer and any hope for happiness he had left and made his way to the front door.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” He said in surprise when he saw who was standing at her doorstep.

“I didn’t know who else to go to. Sienna’s out with Danny, and Aurora and Jackie aren’t good in situations like this,” she spoke quietly and sniffled in between sentences, trying not to let any more tears fall down her cheek, “sorry, I just-”

He interrupted her by pulling her into the darkening sky and into his house and arms. She melted into his touch and gripped his shirt tightly as she hugged him back. 

“What happened?” he asked softly, rubbing circles into her back with his thumbs.

“Rafael and I broke up.”

Bryce sighed softly and rested his chin on her head. He bit his lip and weighed the options in front of him, before he came to a reluctant conclusion. He pulled away just enough so that he could look her in her teary bloodshot eyes.

“I think this is the part where we break out the ice cream.”

She offered him a slightly trembling smile, “ice cream couldn’t hurt.”

He led her to the kitchen and began digging through the freezer while she hopped onto the counter beside him. He hid a frown from her while in the process of pulling the nearly empty carton of coffee and cookie dough ice cream out of the freezer.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” Bryce asked, retrieving a bowl from one of the cabinets.

“It wasn’t even a bad break up,” Despite her words, she still wiped at her tears using the sleeves of her shirt, “we mutually agreed that it was best for both of us.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded, “he’s just...not the one, I guess.”

Bryce felt something twist and turn in his stomach, and he knew it wasn’t right to be happy when his friend was so miserable, but he was anyway. He did his best to hide the smile that wanted to form at the corners of his mouth, “I’m sorry, Cupcake.”

She laughed, “Cupcake?”

He rolled his eyes, but the grin on his face remained, “I’m trying something new, okay? Running out of nicknames.”

She couldn’t help but match his infectious smile, “you’re not gonna have any ice cream?” she asked as he passed her the bowl.

“Nah, not in the mood for it,” he lied.

6. 

“Did you get enough sleep last night, Hon?” She was already in mid-yawn when he had asked the question.

She held a hand over her mouth and nodded, “yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“You look terrible.”

She scowled at him, “wow, just what a girl wants to hear. Anyone ever tell you you’re one hell of a charmer, Lahela?”

“You’d be surprised, actually,” he gave her a teasing smile, “so who’s the cause for your sleepless night?”

“Napoleon Bonaparte.” She made an emphasis on the textbook in her hands, “Why’d I ever let you convince me to take an AP class with you?”

“Because you so desperately enjoy spending time with me?”

“Nah, that’s not it.”

“Ouch,” Bryce held a hand over his heart, “you really stayed up late studying for the quiz?”

“Some people have to study, okay? Not everyone is as gifted as Bryce flippin’ Lahela.”

“Flippin’? Really?” He stifled a laugh.

“We’re at school, gotta keep it PG,” she shrugged, “so yeah, I stay up and study sometimes. High schoolers aren’t supposed to get a normal amount of sleep, it’s not a big deal.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes I worry about you.”

She tilted her head to the side and gave him a small smile, “you don’t need to worry about me, Bry.” 

“Believe me, if I could just shut it off, I would. Look, I’ll make you a stack of flashcards next time so you can get more sleep.”

She was about to say something in response when her phone rang in her pocket, “I should get this.”

She went out into the hallway to answer the call, and Bryce turned back to his lunch, not even bothering to hide his growing smile. 

“Bryce.”

He jumped at the sound of a voice and turned to see Sienna sitting at the desk across from him. Had she been listening to them the whole time? He had completely forgotten she was there; a fact he certainly wasn’t about to share with her. 

“Yes, Sienna?”

“Do you have a crush on her?”

Bryce blinked a few times, certain that he hadn’t heard Sienna right, “Excuse me?

Sienna rolled her eyes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “You heard me right. I’m not blind, Bryce. I see the way you look at her when you think no one is focusing. Do you have a crush on her?”

“That’s ridiculous, where’d you even get the idea from?”” He made a face like he was disgusted by the very thought of it. 

“Oh, I dunno, you just do whatever it takes to make her happy. Not to mention that you have a different pet name for her every time I see you two, seems pretty affectionate to me, Bryce.” She did always have a talent for laying out the facts.

“We’ve been friends since before I could remember, of course I care about her. And so what if I have a nickname for her? It doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s not like you have a nickname for anyone else.”

“I call you...Si...all the time,” he paused to rethink what he just said, “I have a nickname for everyone.” 

“We both know that’s a load of B.S, are you really telling me that you don’t like her?”

“I don’t like her,” and it wasn’t an exact lie, because the feelings he had for her had progressed far beyond liking. 

7. 

“There’s nothing people appreciate more than a hand-made gift, right?” She said and pulled out a ball of azure coloured yarn.

Bryce crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against a wall, “Sure, except maybe a nice Rolex or a new car.”

She gave him a look, “I don’t know what it is about me that makes you think I can afford a Rolex or a new car. I’m an unemployed high school student, my only income comes in the form of birthday cards from my grandparents.”

“Well, I’m sure Sienna will love the scarf you make for her.”

“Yeah, how hard could it be?” She muttered and stared blankly at the mess of strings in her lap.

His eyes widened a little, “Wait, you’re telling me you’ve never crocheted before?”

“I'll get the hang of it soon enough,” she pulled up a beginners guide on YouTube, and five minutes later, she had a knotted pile of yarn in her hands. She huffed in frustration and began to aggressively pull at the yarn.

“Let me help you.”

“You? Know how to knit?” She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. 

Bryce rolled his eyes, sitting next to her and taking the “scarf” out of her hands, “This is crocheting. You don’t even use knitting needles”

“Apologies. And how do you even know how to crochet?” 

“I may or may not have taken lessons a couple summers back to impress Alisson Rivers?” He admitted, quickly untangling her “progress” and began to expertly thread the loops of yarn together. He held up his work to her once a pattern had begun to form, “being incredibly sexy has its perks,” he jokingly winked at her. 

“I hate that you’re good at everything.”

He snorted and gently began to move the work into her hands for her to finish the rest, “Not everything, maybe just most things.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,”  She waved him off, now laser-focused on the project in front of her and determined to get it right that time. Bryce gave her tips and advice every once in a while, but for the most part, he let her work on it by herself. She was a fast learner. 

“Sweethea-” Bryce cut himself off, remembering the conversation he had with Sienna earlier. He cleared his throat, “you’re never gonna get it like that.”

She looked up at him with furrowed brows, “What?” He swallowed roughly and shook his head, “It’s nothing. Just...you’re going to wanna pull the yarn a little tighter or it’s all going to unravel before you’re even finished.”

“Oh,” She gave him a thankful smile, “thanks, Bryce.”

8.

It was almost 2 in the morning, and she knew that getting any more than four of sleep was out of the equation at that point. She wasn’t exactly trying very hard to sleep. She had tried to refresh her Instagram feed maybe two dozen times now, but it wasn’t as if anyone was going to post in the middle of the night. And even so, Instagram was doing a fairly poor job at keeping her mind distracted. 

Sighing out in frustration, she threw her body back onto her bed with a loud sigh. She wrinkled her nose and finally caved in to her temptations, navigating to the facetime app on her phone. Hesitating one last time, she tapped his contact with her thumb. The phone began to hum as she waited for him to pick up. 

“Hey, Bry. I know it’s late,” she said when he finally answered the phone. She frowned when he realised he was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, “sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No, no. I couldn’t sleep anyway,” replied his groggy and raspy voice. 

“I know you’re lying, Bryce. Don’t worry about it, go back to sleep”

“I was already up.”

“No, you weren’t. It’s really fine, don’t let me bother you.

He stopped rubbing his eyes and looked at her firmly through the camera, “Maybe I was asleep, but I’m up now, aren’t I? Don’t worry about waking me up. Besides, I’d much rather be talking to you.’

She pursed her lips, giving him a doubtful look. He was too polite to ever tell her if she was bothering him. She couldn’t tell if he genuinely wanted to talk to her, or if he was too courteous to tell her otherwise.

He noticed the look she gave him, “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t believe me. I would’ve stopped being friends with you years ago if I didn’t find all your annoying habits endearing as hell. I promise,” he shot her a smug smile that almost made her wish she hadn’t called him up. 

“How kind of you,” she said sarcastically.

“I try,” his grin widened, if that were even possible, “so what did you want to talk to me about?” 

She chewed on her bottom lip and shrugged, “I dunno.”

“You don’t?” Bryce narrowed his eyes and leaned closer to the camera. After he had examined her carefully, he leaned back and crossed his arms, “Yeah you do. What is it?”

She shifted uncomfortably by how easy it was for him to see right through her. Once more that night, she caved, “Earlier, when you told me to tighten the yarn. You stopped yourself from calling me ‘sweetheart’.”

He tensed, but she didn’t notice, “I mean, what’s so unusual about that? That's a perfectly normal thing for someone to do.”

“I know,” she nodded, “but you always call me some cheesy pet name. Always. So, did something happen? Are you mad at me?”

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head, “No, of course not. Everything’s fine,” he paused, “that really upset you?”

“It’s just that you’ve always had a nickname for me, I guess I got used to it.”

He laughed through his nose and couldn’t stop the amused smile from spreading across his lips, “Okay, Boo.”

9. 

“Am I finally going to get to see your mural?”

Bryce rolled his eyes, “It isn’t my mural, Love. It’s the senior mural, it’s not like I’m painting it.”

“Yeah, but it was your idea,” she gave him a playful nudge, “I don’t know why you haven’t told me what it is yet. I’m sure if the amazing Bryce Lahela designed it, it’ll be the best senior mural this school has ever seen. 

“Don’t get your hopes up, Babe. I’d hate to disappoint you.”

“You could never disappoint me,” she said matter-of-factly, “you’re Bryce Lahela.”

They turned the corner to see their fellow senior, Kyra Santana, working on the mural. The previously beige wall was now covered in black, gray, and light blue paint. In the middle of the painting was a figure made up of colourful handprints standing above the blue-gray ocean in front of them. 

She stared at the mural with an open mouth. She glanced from Kyra, to Bryce, then back to the artwork in front of her.

“It was my idea to make the figure all colourful with the handprints,” Bryce said, “I thought it would be nice to let our class literally leave a mark on this school.”

Kyra smiled at the mural and set her paintbrush down, “I was a great idea, the splash of colour is just what it needed,” she turned to her, “what do you think?”

“Like it? No, I...I love it, it’s perfect,” she turned to Bryce with wide eyes, “Wanderer above the Sea of Fog, this is my favourite painting.”

“I noticed--don’t give me that look. It’s not like I care that much, you just never shut up about this painting. It’s annoying, really,” he muttered, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at his shoes.

She smiled and turned her attention back to the mural, “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I love this. I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Of course. It’s worth it, seeing how much you like it.”

There was a beat of silence.

“You’re the kind of person I could fall in love with, you know that?” She didn’t take her eyes off the wall that the mural proudly sat on, and Bryce was glad.

Maybe if she had looked at him, she would have seen his breath catch in his throat and his eyes widen just a little bit. If he was the kind of person she could fall in love with, then why didn’t she? Bryce was flustered, and if she had noticed his lack of response, she didn’t mention it.

10.

Their high school was filled with rich kids. Their high school also had a debate team with a minimal number of members. These factors resulted in Bryce and her having their own separate hotel rooms when they attended a debate function in Washington D.C.

After a long day of debating and watching other teams debate, she and Bryce walked side by side down the narrow corridor to their respective rooms. Every now and then, they sneaked looks at each other when they thought the other wouldn’t notice.

Bryce cleared his throat, “So that guy in the blue shirt asked me for your number.”

She glanced up at him, “He did? Did you give it to him?”

“No.”

“What? Why not?”

“Thought he was out of your league. I told him you snored like an ogre and gave him Jackie’s number instead,” he said with a careless shrug.

She gasped and shoved his shoulder, “Are you kidding me? You know I don’t snore, he was cute and interested in me!”

“Can’t imagine why.”

She scowled, “For your information, I’m adorable. I’m funny, enjoyable to be around, and have a high tolerance for assholes who shut down opportunities for their friends. And I’m extremely attractive, which is an added plus.”

“You don’t need to sell me on reasons why you’re dateable,” he chuckled softly.

“Oh yeah?”

At that very moment, they turned to face each other. Their teasing banter stopped when they realised that they were only inches apart, able to hear every inhale and exhale of the other. His gaze flickered down to her lips, and it was only for a second, but she hadn’t missed a single bit of it. 

Bryce took a step back and cleared his throat, standing rather uncomfortably, “It’s late, we should go to bed. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she echoed before they both hurriedly turned around and stepped into their own rooms.

Had he almost kissed her? Did that really just happen? Her mind wandered as she leaned against her hotel room door. 

Maybe she had just imagined it. She shook the thought out of her head and grabbed a sweatshirt along with a pair of shorts out of her suitcase. Maybe she would stop thinking about it after a good night's rest. She changed, brushed her teeth, and was about to turn the lights off when she felt that nagging feeling bubble up in the pits of her stomach once more.

It was naive to think her mind would stop racing that night if she didn’t confront Bryce about it. She set the covers that were in her hands down and made her way out into the fluorescent-lit hallway. She had made it all the way to his door when she stopped herself. 

Was that really what she wanted to do? If she brought up their almost-kiss, would they ever be able to go back to being friends? Did she even want them to go back to being just friends? She bit her lip and glanced back at her own room door. She should’ve just gone to bed, it wasn’t worth putting their entire friendship on the line. But then again, she would always wonder what could have happened if she never followed her gut.

She raised her fist to knock on his door, but before she could make contact, the door swung open. They once more stood face to face, their wide-eyed expressions mirroring each other. For a moment in time, all that stood between them were the accelerated heartbeat and the flutters they felt for one another. 

Bryce’s arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Her hand had found its place on the back of his neck and guided his lips to hers. His eyes were half-open, sneaking glances at her to assure himself that he wasn’t dreaming. Her overwhelming scent and the feeling of his hands threaded through her hair were all too real.

He pulled her into his room, kicking the closed door behind him. Placing both hands on his broad chest, she pushed him back onto the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips.

Thoughts were racing in her mind. She tried to put reason to the way he gripped her waist so tightly that there were sure to be bruises there the very next day. She tried to put reason to the way his pupils dilated as she went in for another kiss; she came up empty-handed. 

There was no way she felt the same, Bryce told himself. There was no way that she loved him the way he loved her. For as long as he could remember, he had been in love with her, and for as long as he could remember, she had only seen him as her friend.

He missed the warmth of her lips when she pulled away, but he couldn’t help but admire the way her lips were slightly swollen and her hair was a mess. Her eyes were mesmerising, and the way the light highlighted the softness of her skin made him fall even more. He took that moment to memorise every line and curve of her face, forever branding that memory into his head. 

She leaned in to kiss him again, but he pushed her away this time and sat up, “Stop. we...we can’t do this.  This can’t just be a one-time thing.”

“What?”

He felt his heart twist inside his chest and he clenched his jaw, “Because I love you.”

Her lips curled up in a smile, “I love you too.”

#this took so damn long holy shit #pixelberry choices #open heart #choices #choices open heart #open heart book 2 #playchoices #pixelberry open heart #playchoices open heart #open heart book 3 #pixelberry #open heart book 1 #Bryce lahela #choices bryce lahela #Bryce x mc #choices bryce #open heart bryce lahela #Sienna trinh #choices sienna #open heart fanfic #open heart fanfiction #fluff #choices fic writers creations #fic of the week #checkurwindow writes

[bunnyywritings]

I'm soft I cant handle angst>∆< Could we have a different route where young pro hero reader accepts shinsou's confession? My heart weeps

misunderstood and unheard [alternate ending]

hitoshi shinso x fem!reader

[a/n: here’s the fluffy ending to【this ask】 thank you for requesting anon! I hope your heart is okay 🥺️ -yours truly, bunny -`ღ´-]

To say he was shocked is a bit of an understatement. He never thought that his work-study application to your agency would be accepted.

You were someone he looked up to, someone he admired. You were a young hero, no more than a couple years older than him and you were already in the Top 5 and had your own agency. You were known because of your quirk. It was very powerful but also seen as villainous. You had a history of never accepting any students for the work-study program, only accepting office interns. So imagine the disbelief on his face when Aizawa had given him the letter. He took it to his room and got comfortable. With fluttering fingers, he shakily ripped open the envelope and tossed it aside. He took a deep breath before carefully unfolding the paper. It was handwritten. You had taken the time to personally hand write him a letter.

‘Dear Hitoshi, I usually don’t take on any students for the work-study program, so I was a little surprised to see your application in my inbox. I decided to take the chance and look it over. Once I saw that you’re currently enrolled at UA, I requested to see footage from your practice matches and the sports festival. You show a lot of promise to become a top hero one day, you’re very talented. As you probably know, I have experience with a quirk like yours and seeing as there’s a lot of very unkind people and unwilling heroes, I would like to inform you that I will gladly accept your application for a work-study. I’m very excited to meet you and help you develop the kind of experience you need to grow as a young hero. I hope you’re ready, your first day starts this Friday at 7am. You’ve already been cleared from class if you decide you want to accept.’

You...you accepted his application...

He hugged his pillow to his chest and buried is red face into it. His heart was racing and adrenaline pumping. He had never been happier in his life. He 100% framed the letter and put it on his wall.

He woke up extra early on the morning of, he just couldn’t contain himself. He had decided to forgo the school uniform and dress in casual clothes, carrying his hero costume in the metal briefcase given by the school. It had definitely improved since his first year, it was simple but it worked. His heartbeat became more erratic as his legs carried him all the way to your agency building. All he could do was stand there, in absolute awe.

“Looks like we were both excited and got here early.” He jumped at the sudden voice beside him, eyes widening as his eyes landed on you. You were dressed in civilian clothes and it took everything in him to not drool. You definitely had style. He blushed when you tilted your head in a confused manner, realizing that he hadn’t responded.

“Y-yeah, sorry. I just c-couldn’t wait s-so...yeah.” He sheepishly scratched the back of his neck.

“Well then, come on in.” You giggled as you unlocked the door and held it open for him, he nervously walked. You followed behind him as he looked around in awe. You never really thought that your agency was anything special but he was looking around like he was in disneyland. People had described your office as very homey. There was an exposed brick interior, all the furniture was vintage looking, a turntable in the corner with a shelf of various different vinyl discs beside it. He felt like he was in his dream bedroom.

“Alright then, Hitoshi.” He turned to you, cheeks still pink. “Time to suit up.” The wink you gave him made his face burn. It was going to be a long day.

Going on patrol with you just made his adoration and pride for you grow. You had posed for pictures, did countless autographs, and even went out of your way to make a tik tok or two with some kids. There was no wonder why your social ranking was so high. Other than that, it was pretty uneventful. There was some guy trying to rob a convenience store while the both of you made your way back to the agency.

“Why don’t you take this one Hitoshi-kun.” You patted his shoulder encouragingly.

“Are you sure?” He cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, I fully believe in you.” Your smile is what filled him with courage.

He calmly approached the robber, “Sir are you sure you want to be doing that?”

“Of course! Now leave me alone you wannabe hero!” The second that shout left the man’s mouth, he froze. Eyes going blank.

You watched with your arms crossed, a small smile on your lips.

“Now why don’t you drop the weapon and put your arms around your back.” The man moved stiffly as he did what he was told. Shinso turned to you, eyes asking what he should do next. You unhooked a pair of handcuffs from your belt and tossed them to him. He caught them with ease and slapped them onto the man’s wrist.

After handing the robber off to the proper authorities, you both made your way to your agency. Ordering some lunch and eating it in your office.

“It must’ve been difficult for you.” His eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Growing up with a quirk like that.” After your clarification, he nodded somberly. Unpleasant memories resurfacing.

“All my life, I had been told my quirk was villainous. People were scared that I would take advantage of them, no one would talk to me...and sure things are a little different now but I still feel like no one truly gets it.” He didn’t know why he was being so honest but he felt like he could be honest with you.

“I truly understand how you feel. My own parents disowned me, they were disgusted by my quirk. My classmates were always terrified of me. They’d tell me that, even if I ever got to be a hero that I’d give the person I’m trying to save a heart attack. Even now as a pro, I get slandered in the press or while on patrols. I get called a demon, heroes like Endeavor are trying to kick me from the hero association.” His eyes widened as he listened to you talk, he could hear the tinge of pain in your voice.“Trying to navigate life alone is hard, I’ve been alone all of my life. When I saw you in the sports festival, the way people reacted to your quirk, I felt for you. I know what it feels like so I thought I’d-” Before you finished, a siren went off in your office.

“Well, looks like lunch time is over.” You smiled sympathetically at him. “Let’s go.“

After helping fend off a villain and having you throw yourself in front of him to protect him, the two of you made your way back.

“Uhm there’s a locker room down the hall. You can shower before heading back to your dorm.” You smiled but he could see you were tired. Right before you guys could leave, Endeavor had some interesting choice words for you and him. You were quick to defend him from the current number 1 hero instead of defending yourself. He felt bad. It was only his first day and you had to protect him from a villain and defend him from the sharp tongue of Endeavor. He nodded and grabbed his bag, making his way to the locker room.

“What do you want Enji? Didn’t you already get enough earlier?”

“Don’t run your mouth brat. I’m here to drop off paperwork for the damage you caused.” The stack of papers he tossed thumped against your desk and you got up and crossed your arms, scoffing.

“The damage I caused? I think you’re confused Enji because last time I checked, my quirk didn’t cause someone’s house to catch fire.” You went to reach for the stack of paper but he caught your wrist in a vice grip and pulled you closer to him.

“Don’t think that you’ll ever get to the top (y/n), I’ll always be there to kick you down.”

You chuckled, although it came off as more of a grimace. “That’s not very plus ultra of you Enji...you forget. Not everyone’s goal is to get to the top to try and revive any broken ego we have. Some of us are here to actually help people.” That didn’t please him as he shoved you away.

“I’ll be seeing you around (y/n).” He threatened. Shinso frowned as he watched Endeavor stomp out of the building, turning to you and seeing you rub our red wrist.

“Is everything okay?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah, he just dropped off some paper work.” He approached you and softly took you wrist in his hand, thumb gently running over the slight hand print he left behind.

“Did he-?”

“It’s okay Toshi-kun, it’s nothing.” The smile on your lips was convincing enough for him to drop the topic. “Now, why don’t you head back and get some rest. I’ve got some paper work to do.”

“I can help you with that.”

“Oh no, Toshi you should really go and get some rest.” You shook your head.

“Please, let me help you out. If I’m gonna be a hero, I should learn how to properly do paperwork, right?” He smiled, trying to convince you.

“Okay fine. Go put on a record and I’ll order us some more food.”

Over the next couple of hours, the two of you ate, did paperwork, danced around to whatever record was playing and just goofed around. After a bit, he had fallen asleep while resting his head on the desk.

“I told you to go home and rest.” You whispered, shaking your head. Picking up your phone, you sandwiched it against your cheek and shoulder as you placed your jacket over his shoulder.

“Hey Aizawa, your kid fell asleep while doing paperwork...yeah, I know...well I don’t mind keeping him here. I wasn’t really planning on heading home anyways...of course...thanks Shota.” After you hung up, you pushed Shinso’s hair back. “Sweet dreams Toshi.” You placed a soft kiss against his forehead. He tried hard to fend off the smile threatening to stretch his lips.

After that, the work-study lasted for 3 more months.

“Let’s go out.”

“H-Huh?” He stuttered, looking up from the paper work the both of you were doing.

“To commemorate your last day. Let’s go eat, it’s almost time to clock out anyways.“ He agreed and the both of you decided to go get some ramen. He couldn’t help but feel like this was a date. He knew it wasn’t but a boy could dream. As the both of you ate, he reminisced about spending so much time with you.

“I’m gonna miss you Toshi-kun.” Your sudden confession made his heart skip a beat. “I like having you around.” He paused, standing under a sakura tree that the two of you walked under.

“Is everything okay?” You asked as you turned around, standing in front of him.

“I-I need to be h-honest with you (y-y/n).”

“Oh okay, go ahead.” You smiled sweetly at him, trying to ease his worry.

“I think-I think I’m in l-love with you. You make me feel like I’m not alone and the things I experienced are valid. Y-Your smile makes my heart skip a beat and-and I’ve never really felt this way about anyone before...so uh y-yeah.” He did everything in his power to avoid looking in your eyes. He grew disheartened at your silence, taking it as a rejection. That was until he felt your fingertips on his cheek. He looked up, eyes widening at the timid smile on your lips and the blush on your cheeks.

“Took the words right out of my mouth Toshi.” Your soft voice was music to his ears. “I’m a little bit surprised that you uh-well that you like me.” You pulled away from him, he instantly missed your warm touch against his skin. “I didn’t think you’d return the feelings..that you’d think I-I was too old for you.” He was so shocked that he couldn’t help the chuckle that left his lips.

“S-Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. It’s just...how could I no like you? Look at you.” He smirked at how your cheeks deepened a shade of red, the fact that he could make you so flustered fueled his confidence as he approached you, moving until he was inches from your face.

He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Do I make you nervous, (y/n)?” His deep voice sent chills down your spine

“D-Don’t do that Toshi-kun...you’re gonna make my heart burst.” You placed your hands against his chest, softly pushing him away. He quickly held your wrists in place so you couldn’t move.

“Can I kiss you (y/n)?” You bit your lip, silently nodding. He released your wrist and moved to cup your cheek in his soft yet slightly calloused hand. His thumb moving to tug your lip from in between your teeth, caressing it softly. “You’re so beautiful.” This caused your cheeks to heat up once more.

“S-hut up...are you gonna kiss me or-mph!” He cut you off mid shout, the feeling of his lips against yours made the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. He couldn’t help but grin into the kiss as he finally felt you reciprocate.

Both of you moved your heads to deepen the kiss but ended up bumping noses instead. Both of you jumping away from each other, breathless giggles leaving your lips.

“Come on, we should get going.” You grabbed his hand and intertwined your fingers with his.

He was so gonna brag about this to Denki.

#shinso x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader

[mizumelona]

set me up | atsumu x reader

SYNOPSIS: You’re an ambitious career woman, who’s got everything…except a significant other. Your mom, sick of you showing up to family functions alone, sets you up on a series of (terrible) blind dates. You make these dates meet you at your favorite restaurant, Onigiri Miya, but for some reason the owner’s jerk of a twin brother always happens to be there exactly when things crash and burn.

MASTERLIST

PREV | DATE 1 - THE CLUELESS ASSHOLE | NEXT

TAGLIST: @awkwardali6106 @kasandrafaye @veggytaled @svtbitch @stinkyobeymerat@hollypastl @differentballooncollection @o51oc @sunboikyo00 @justxanotherxshipper @kaisemieita

~

Your date stepped into the restaurant with a smile. Glasses. Neat hair. Handsome enough to avoid any major roasts from your family. Perfect.

“Hi, it’s great to finally meet you! I’m y/n”, you tried to make your voice sound demure. Stay cool y/n. Stay cool. Don’t even think about what the lemon head jerk said.

“Hi. I’m Hanate. You look…great” Another snicker from the direction of the bar.

“Thanks for coming all the way here to meet me. So, let’s go sit over there”, You threw a warning look at Atsumu and guided Hanate towards a table as far away from the bar as possible, making sure Atsumu was out of his line of sight. Osamu soon followed, placing two glasses of water on the table.

He pulled out a little notepad. “What’ll you be havin’ today?”

Hanate looked at you. “What’s good at this place?”

“I love the minced tuna and spring onion rice ball.” You thought you saw Atsumu’s head perk up in your direction.

“Cool.” He turned to Osamu, I’ll get one of those too.”

“Two minced tuna and spring onion rice balls comin’ right up”, Osamu repeated the order and went back to the prep station. You turned to your date.

“So, how’s your day going?”

“I’m so glad it’s the weekend.”

“Yeah! Totally!”, you picked up your glass of water to take a sip.

“I’ll never understand those try hard workaholics. It’s like, who do they think they are acting all high and mighty”. Cough. Some water went down the wrong pipe. Okay, that was unexpected, but it’s fine he doesn’t have to know about your work habits right away. You could always warm him up to it later. First you’d get him to fall for you and everything could fall into place later.

“Uh…yeah…”, you tried your best to make your response sound enthusiastic.

“But it is nice to be making good money. You know, my uncle hooked me up with this sweet job. I barely do anything, and I’m still making stacks.”  He gave you little side eye that he probably thought made him look cool. It didn’t. “You never know, if things work between us maybe he can work something out for you too”

You started to scoff but remembered that you were supposed to be getting this guy to like you, so you played it off as clearing your throat.

“Well…I don’t know about that”, You tried changing the topic. “So, what kinds of things are you interested in?”

“Ah my hobbies are pretty spread out. I don’t like to spend too much time on one thing. I can’t be tied down y’know. What about you?”

“I’m pretty interested in technology, especially applications that make education more accessible”

“Oh have you heard of the app GO”

“Ah, yeah I actually know a lot about it-”

“Well, did you know that the app won at the design awards last year. The creators must’ve spent ages coming up with it”

“Actually, It was a fairly simple concept rooted in values of co-creation”

“Uh…I’m pretty sure it was a minimal design where people work together toward the final result.”

Your eyebrow twitched. Isn’t that exactly what you just said but using different words?

“Well”, You started with a sly smile. “I think I would know the app I designed”

That shut him up. Haha.

But the satisfying moment was quickly interrupted by some loud guffaws coming from the blondie at the bar. Somehow you knew it wasn’t because he stumbled upon a funny meme. Sure, it felt great to flex on your clueless date, but that was none of his business. You made a sly glance in Atsumu’s direction. He was looking directly at you with a shit eating grin.

“Uh…Well…”, Hanate still looked like he was struggling coming up something to say after your little roast. He frowned turning to look in Atsumu’s direction “Wow that guy is really loud. Wait is he looking this way-“

“Oh!”, you exclaimed.

Oh hell no. You were not about to let some rando dye job jerk get in the way of your plans to conquer romance. You needed him to shut up. Now. But you weren’t going to be able to do that while trying to look like a lady for you date. Quickly, you formulated a plan. You lifted your arm as if you were going to pick up your glass of water, but made a sweeping motion knocking your phone off Hanate’s side of the table. Bingo.

“Oh I’m so sorry about that. My hand slipped. Could you grab it for me?”

“Uh sure no problem”

The moment his head dipped below the table, you made eye contact with Atsumu and made a quick motion dragging your thumb across your neck. Keep that up and you’re dead. He smirked and shrugged. Like I care. Bastard.

“Two minced tuna and spring onion rice balls”, Osamu was back at the table with your onigiri. Steam was billowing off the rice and the smell of the tuna wafted in the air.

“Wow it looks great! Thank you!”

The rice balls were delicious as always, but once you two started eating the conversation died. No matter what you asked Hanate’s responses were short. “Do you like the food?”, “Yeah…”, “Did you see that new movie?”, “Yeah…”. You took another bite resisting the urge to roll your eyes. Did getting roasted hurt his ego that much?

Once you finished eating you two split the bill and prepared to go your separate ways.

You turned to Hanate. “Well, I’m going to run to the bathroom before I head out, but today was nice.” It actually sucked but in case a second date was still an option you kept the thought to yourself. Even if this guy was clueless you could always dump him after you brought him to a family brunch.

“Yeah…”

~

Atsumu took another satisfying bite out of his onigiri. He’d been having a pretty shitty day, but watching y/n’s date crash and burn was the best thing he’d seen all week. Atsumu had no respect for useless, clueless people, so watching y/n roast this guy had been fucking hilarious. He did wonder why it seemed like she was trying to make this guy like her when she obviously didn’t like him. She was definitely out of this lame guy’s league, not that it was any of his business.

Atsumu watched as the guy in question picked up his phone, taking a call.

“Yeah…the date finished…yeah…not gonna lie though, she was kind of a stuck up bitch”

Atsumu scoffed and turned to tell the guy off, but before he could say anything the bathroom door swung open.

“At least I’m not a lazy asshole”, Y/n stepped out, looked at her date, and rolled her eyes. She flipped the guy off and walked right out the door.

Atsumu burst out laughing as the door slammed shut.

“She beat ya to it ‘Tsumu”, Osamu piped in from the cashier.

“Shut up ‘Samu”

~

Ugh what a waste of time. You were currently trying to forget about the stupid date by having a self care night. The candles were lit. Face mask was on. Wine glass was filled. You were about to turn on that new rom com movie that came out when your phone buzzed.

Mom:

I heard from Haru. You called him an asshole?? Y/n I can’t believe this

Lovely Daughter:

he called me a bitch first

Mom:

Okay fine we’ll just think of it as a test run but please try and be on your best behavior next week.

Lovely Daughter:

Next week?

Mom:

I ran into Rika at the farmers market and she told me her son is single. I already sent him the address to Onigiri Miya. You’ll meet him there next Sunday at 11.

Lovely Daughter:

!!!

You put your phone down. That was faster than you’d expected, but actually this worked in your favor. So the first date didn’t go so well, but that’s okay. This guy had just been especially bad, not to mention the banana head jerk who kept interfering. You sipped your drink with a sly smile. Next week you’d conquer romance for sure.

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #atsumu #atsumu x reader #set me up

[bubbyleh]

Do I Know You? - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Black Mesa Research Facility

“Hey boss? I got a bit of an issue when it comes to filling that position in Anomalous Materials.”

“Seriously? You’re coming to me for a simple hiring problem?”

“Well, I figured I should run this by you, first. We got this great applicant, yeah? Perfect, could do great things in the field, blah blah blah, stuff like that. Anmat seemed real excited about him.”

“So why are you here?”

“See, as a precaution, I run potential hires through the system. And I can’t fathom why, but this guy is on our blacklist.”

“And Anmat wants to hire him anyway?”

“I’d be lying if I said he wouldn’t be a valuable asset to the company.”

“Let me check. What’s his name?”

“Isaac Kleiner.”

“Alright… Kleiner… Isaac… Oh.”

“What is it?”

“Yeah, this is old. He got a pre-emptive blacklisting almost forty years ago due to a project in Biological Research, but that’s been pretty much abandoned by now. You can give Anomalous Materials the go-ahead to hire him.”

“Thanks, boss. I’ll let them know immediately.”

- ○ -

Working at Black Mesa is, honestly, not at all what Isaac Kleiner was expecting.

The entire facility is a shoddy mess of occupational hazards and shoddy wiring, to the point where a single disaster could honestly take down a whole building. Kleiner’s been on more than one shaky tram ride that he was convinced would end with him and the other passengers falling to the ground below. It’s only thanks to the hundreds of lengthy NDAs and thousands of dollars of hush money that Black Mesa hasn’t been taken to court.

Also, the supervisors here are terrible. They push their workers to their breaking points, just trying to wring as much productivity out of them as they can before they have to spend all their vacation days for a break. It’s not an unheard of practice in research facilities, but still, Kleiner thinks they’re way more extreme than anywhere else.

But the people… the people at Black Mesa are something else. And in a break from the trend, that’s not a bad thing.

For example, Harold Coomer! Kleiner met him his first week, which was natural, considering they work in the same department. Anomalous Materials is a bit of a rigid working environment, but despite his clearly robotic arms and legs, Coomer seems friendly enough.

There is one incident, though.

Kleiner is struggling to yank his lab coat from the back of his locker. He’s starting to regret not organizing beforehand, but he supposes he can always do it later.

That’s why he’s a bit distracted when Coomer glances into his locker as he passes. And it’s the reason he’s so startled when he shouts, “Oh, what a lovely pair!”

At first, Kleiner assumes—or rather, hopes—that Coomer is talking about the photo of his parents that he has perched on the upper shelf. It is, after all, the bigger of the two frames he has, so obviously it would draw more attention. But no, when Kleiner turns to face Coomer, he finds that he’s fully focused on the smaller picture, where a small boy sits beaming, holding an infant in his lap.

“Is that of you?” Coomer tilts his head as he asks.

Silently, Kleiner glances between the picture and Coomer. Making a decision, he reaches from the picture, holding it out to Coomer.

He points to the boy, a slight smile on his face as he says, “That’s me. I was around five and a half, here.”

“Really?” Coomer seems to inspect the photo for a moment. “You know what? I think I can see it.” He looks back at the photo. “Who’s the baby, then?”

“Ah, that’s-” Kleiner swallows down a few emotions. “That’s my sister, Bethany. My only sibling.”

“She looks like quite the darling,” Coomer comments, and if that doesn’t bring back the decades of lost time…

“Goodness, no,” Kleiner laughs breathlessly. “She was the crankiest little baby ever. Hated everyone outside of our family, could barely get to sleep…” He remembers late nights, standing by his mother with his hands over his ears as she fruitlessly tried to get Bethany to sleep. In those moments, he used to wish desperately that she would just disappear, so the three of them could finally get some sleep.

Well, half of that wish came true.

“That picture was a bit of a fluke,” Kleiner explains. “She, er… we lost her a few weeks after.”

Coomer’s face drops. “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have-”

“No, it’s fine.” Kleiner places the picture back in his locker, closing it firmly. “I like to remember her.”

- ○ -

Kleiner meets Coomer’s partner about a week later, though only briefly. He’s sitting in the Anomalous Materials office, Coomer stood in front of him, reading over his equation. He rubs his chin and glares at the mathematics.

“Something’s clearly wrong with it, but I can’t figure out,” Kleiner sighs. “I’ve read the whole thing over ten times.”

“Maybe you should take a break and come back to it later,” Coomer suggests, almost hopefully. “A clear head could help your productivity.”

“I need it done by tomorrow, as well as about ten other things,” Kleiner frowns. “If I don’t finish it now, I might forget it.”

“Well, you could-”

They’re interrupted by the office door bursting open along with a shout of, “HAROLD!”

Standing in a doorway is a lanky figure, taller than either of them. They’re wearing a sweater and jeans and, notably, no lab coat. They’ve got thick glasses, just like Kleiner. They have the same brownish-black hair as him, too, even starting to gray in the same way Kleiner had a few years earlier.

Despite being a stranger, they’re eerily familiar.

Coomer’s reaction shocks Kleiner out of his weird deja vu. “Ah, Bubby! What are you doing here?”

As they approach, Bubby—apparently—produces a brown paper bag. “You left your lunch at home.”

“Oh!” Coomer realizes, taking the bag. “I guess I did. Thank you, darling.”

Bubby mumbles something to themself, but Coomer doesn’t seem to listen as he wraps an arm around their hips, pulling them to his side. “Bubby, this is Isaac Kleiner!” He gestures towards the man. “We work together here.”

Finally, Bubby seems to notice Kleiner. They squint at him, almost appearing confused by his presence. But that barely lasts a few seconds, as they quickly mutter, “Uh, hi,” and look away.

“Kleiner, this is my partner, Bubby,” Coomer explains. “They work in Chemical Engineering, but they’re off for the week since the trams are offline.”

“It’s, uh-” The sense of familiarity returns. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Bubby shifts on their feet. “They said I had to be in and out, so-” They catch sight of the paper in Coomer’s hand. “You wrote x instead of a.”

And after pressing a quick kiss to Coomer’s head, Bubby is gone.

Coomer looks back at the equation. “Well, look at that! They’re right!” He hands it back to Kleiner, pointing out the error.

Almost mindlessly, Kleiner takes his work back. Something about the encounter leaves him unsettled.

#half life #hlvrai #half life vr but the ai is self aware #isaac kleiner #boomer #hlvrai boomer #dr bubby #bubby #dr coomer #do i know you #my writing

[whattodowithkpop]

Good Cops (Donghun)

Title: Good Cops

Pairing: Donghun x Reader

Genre: Slight Romance

Word Count: 3.5K Words

Writer: Kpopmadness

As the Monday train rolls down the tracks I keep my eyes out the window. Blocking out the busy noise of Korea that morning. I let out a soft sigh and feel slightly drowsy. My normal time for getting up for work to be down at the station was 5 AM sharp.

Being a cop in Korea wasn't easy, but it was what i loved doing. I had worked hard to be in the position i was in and to get the jobs i did on the force. But even though i loved my job, i had learned six months ago that this job comes at a price sometimes. I press my palms into my eyes, willing the images of blood staining my hands away from my mind. I tried to force my mind to focus on something else. Like the fact that i was getting a new partner today.

I willed a smile onto my face. I had put in an application form for a K9 Unit about two months ago. Demands for the well trained dogs was high. So i knew i would be waiting awhile. But last night before heading home my chief had said my new partner was coming in today.

The train comes to a stop and i stand up to leave. From the train i had to walk a few blocks to reach the station, which i didn't mind. The fall air was cool and refreshing as i made my way to the station. The walk and the air combined gave my mind a sense of clarity as excitement filled me for the days events.

The station was quiet once i made my way inside. Everyone was still waking up or trying to get dressed for the day. I enjoyed the silence while it lasted while i went to my locker and changed into my navy blue uniform.

I had just finished pulling my hair into a tight bun when I hear a soft tap at the locker room door,

“Come in.” I call, putting my old clothes into my duffle bag for later.

The chief of the station pokes his head into the locker room. He’s a middle aged man with black hair and thick rimmed classes. His lanky body is covered by the same navy blue uniform all of us wore, except the lines in his face showed the stress of serving on the force for many years.

“Your partner is here, Sargent.” He tells me, a warm smile on his face.

A wide smile blooms on my face and I quickly shut my locker door. “Really?” I ask, my voice a little too high pitched and excited.

The chief laughs and opens the door wider for me to get through, “Come see for yourself, kid.”

I eagerly follow him out the door almost bouncing up and down with excitement. I secretly hope the K9 is either a German shepherd or a pit bull, but at this point I’ll be happy with any K9-Unit.

The chief opens the door to his office and I quickly scan the room. A man with dark hair and big brown eyes stares back at me with a wide smile on his face. I quickly realize I won’t be getting a dog after all.

“Hi, I’m Lee Donghun.” The man says excitedly, his head bowing low before stretching out his hand for me to shake.

My eyes dart to my chief and then back to the man with his hand out toward me. I quickly take the chief by the wrist and pull him outside the office, shutting the door behind us. Leaving Donghun alone feeling confused.

“That is not a dog.” I snap, more than a little annoyed.

The chief chuckled softly, “I know.”

“Chief, I told you I didn’t want another partner. Not like that.” I complain.

“I know.” He says. “But you’re one of the best female Sargent’s here. And you can’t avoid having a real partner forever. Besides, he’s young and a rookie. You would make a good teacher.”

I let out a groan and hide my face in my hands. Frustrated that this was even happening. But deep down, I felt like I knew it was going to happen one day.

“Give him two weeks, kid.” The chief says gently, “See if you like him or not. If not, I’ll get you your K9 and he’ll move to another partner. Then we’ll all be happy.”

I sigh and give a slow nod. The chief smiles broadly, clearly happy with himself. I open the door to his office again, Donghun still stands in the same place he was moments ago picking at a loose strand on his pants nervously.

“Come on,” I say, motioning with my head for him to follow.

He smiles widely and picks up his jacket as he follows me outside.

~~~~

I rest my head against the headrest as me and my new partner drive down the main road. I glance over at him. He happily sits looking out the window excitedly. His dark hair shining in the sunlight.

I turn my eyes back to the road and try to push my annoyance down. It was only for two weeks. Surely i could handle that.

I turn the car into an old grocery store parking lot and turn the car off so we could clock people's speed. I sit back in the seat and watch the cars pass, my eyes feeling  heavy.

"Thank you for giving me this opportunity.” Donghun says sweetly. His dark eyes meeting mine.

I force a smile onto my face and answer, "You're welcome. I think you'll catch onto the routine pretty fast."

Donghun sits back in his chair and sighs, "I'm the new guy so no one really knows what to expect of me."

He sobers, however, and adds, "I'm sorry. If i'm not what you expected. Or maybe even wanted."

That makes me feel bad. So i turn to him and answer, "I was in a bad mood this morning. I just thought something different was coming my way today. But i know how it feels to be a rookie. Just listen to what i tell you and i think me and you will get along  great."

Donghun smiles widely at me. Making butterflies burst in my stomach, making me blush.

"I look forward to learning from you."  He says, his dark eyes sparkling.

~~~~~~

1 Month later;

"Donghun!" I yell, running down the street, chasing a runaway prisoner down the busy street of Korea. My lungs burning from how fast i have to run to keep up with the criminal. Who is now frantically throwing random things onto the street to try to stop me from following.

"Donghun, where are you?" I yell again into my walki-talki clipped against my chest.  Static answers me and i let out a growl.

I feel it start to get harder to keep up with the runaway, my legs now starting to cramp up. The prisoner takes a turn onto the busy street and maneuvers over several cars, which all honk angrily at him as he tries desperately to escape. He takes a turn onto one street when, suddenly, a black car swerves in front of him, blocking his path. The cars sudden appearance makes the man slam against the hood of the car before falling down hard against the pavement.

"Don't move." Donghun orders, pulling his gun from its holster. The man lays motionless on the ground, his hands up.

Donghun jerks him up by the collar before pushing him up against the car and putting handcuffs on him. Once the prisoner is locked securely inside the car I sit down on the pavement and lean my back against the cop car. Sweat rolls down my neck as i try to catch my breath. I stretch out my tired legs, exhausted from having chased the guy on foot for nearly two miles.

"What happened to you?" Donghun asks teasingly, handing me a bottled water.

I take it from him but still manage to meet his eyes to glare at him. "I was chasing that guy down while you were taking your sweet time." I say sourly.

Donghun lets out a sigh before defending, "I  wasn't about to chase the guy on foot like you did. I got in the car and decided to cut him off."

"You're supposed to stay close to me!" I say a little too loudly. "Partners stick together."

Donghun looks down at the ground, looking a little hurt. But he doesn't argue, he simply nods his head in understanding. Knowing better than to argue.

I stare at him for a moment before sighing and shaking my head. "That was good driving though.”  I admit.

And I realized it wasn't all Donghuns fault. Since I decided to keep him as my partner he had learned from me, but not all my good habits. He picked up the bit of recklessness i possessed. Plus, his fear of very little to almost nothing didn't help much. But really, since that first day we had been assigned to work together he had been a really good partner. And he had grown on me. Hence the reason he stayed.

Donghun smirks at me, "It was good, wasn't it?" He says proudly.

I roll my eyes at him and take his hand that was extended to me as i stand up.

"It wasn't half bad." I say, my body temperature feeling much cooler.

"For a rookie." I add with a smile.

Donghun narrows his eyes at me as he makes his way back to the drivers side. We start to climb in when i hear a small voice say behind me.

"Excuse me,"

I spin around to see a little girl, who couldn't have been more than five years old, looking up at me with big blue eyes.

"Hi sweetie!" I say cheerfully, bending down to her level.

The little girl looks behind her at her mother shyly before saying in a hushed voice,

"I love your hair."

I hadn't even realized my hair had fallen out of its tight bun. It cascaded down my back now in thick dark locks almost touching my waist.

I pull my hair over one shoulder, making the little girl reach out and touch it gently,

"You're like a princess." She says, her smile wide showing two teeth missing.

I laugh lightly, "I'm too sweaty to be a princess. But you look more like one with your cute headband." I say, gently touching her sparkly cat eared headband.

The little girl grins at me before removing the headband from her head and placing it gently on my head.

"Now you're a princess." She beams at me before skipping her way back to her mother.

I smile as she leaves and stand up, gently touching the small headband on my head.

"A princess, huh?" Donghun says, staring at me from the other side of the car.

I remove the headband from my head and start pulling my hair up again as i glare at him, "You have something smart to say?"

Donghun smirks at me, "Princess... It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"Only I'm not, nor have i ever been, a princess." I shoot back.

"Maybe not." Donghun says, "But it does seem to work for you somehow. It would make a good pet name."

I let out a laugh as I open the car door and say jokingly, "Yeah. Maybe we should start calling each other that now. You call me princess and i can call you oppa or daddy."

The smile on Donghun's face vanishes and his cheeks turn a dark red before he clears his throat and gets in the car, slamming the door.

I feel puzzled as i sit in the seat next to him and buckle up. He doesn't meet my eyes, or speak to me as we head back to the station.

~~~~~~

2 Months Later;

"No." I say firmly, taking another sip of my hot coffee.

"Oh come on, princess." Donghun whines.

"Donghun," I warn, holding a hand up to stop him from talking more. "I told you not to call me that, I've been telling you for two months now."

Donghun flashes me a smile across the dark car before saying, "Too late now. I like it too much to give it up."

I let a laugh break through my lips, "What do you mean you 'like it'?" I ask, "I'm your superior and this is technically insubordination for not listening to me."

Donghun lets his head rest against the headboard behind him as he lets out a deep laugh. His breath could be seen leaving his mouth in a thick white cloud from how cold it was outside. The clock on the dash read 1:30 A.M and we were parked by an abandoned apartment complex pulling a night shift clocking speeds.

I readjust the hood of my sweatshirt on my head to block out the cold as i shoot back, "I am not playing truth or dare with you on duty, Donghun."

Donghun lets out a heavy sigh and slams his head against the headrest again in protest. "We have nothing else to do to pass the time.”

I rub my tired eyes and growl, knowing he wasn't completely wrong but i didn't want to admit it.

"Please princess..." Donghun whines in a low voice, his big brown eyes taking on a wounded puppy dog look.

"Fine." I breathe out, annoyed.

Donghun sits up excitedly and sets his coffee cup down in its coffee holder. "Truth or dare?"

I take a sip of my coffee and keep my eyes fixed on the road watching for cars as i answer, "Truth."

"Do you like being called princess?" Donghun asks, a dark grin on his face.

I reach over and slap him across the chest, laughing, "That is not a good first question, Lee Donghun!”

Donghun laughs with me as he rubs his chest where i hit him, "You said we could play this game and the rule is we can ask whatever we want. I wanted to ask that question. Now answer me."

I let out a sigh and hide my face in my hands. A  blush creeping onto my face. I was thankfully that it was dark outside.

"Yes."  I mumble against my hands. Defeated.

"I'm sorry, what? What did you say?" Donghun asks, leaning in closer to me as if he couldn't hear me.

I flick his forehead making him lean back in his chair, "You heard me, you brat." I say through a laugh, my face now burning.

Donghun smirks at me and holds my gaze, "Sensitive much, Princess?"

This makes me blush harder so i sit back in my seat and change the subject. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare." Donghun answers. I can hear in his voice that he’s proud of himself for making me flustered.

"Take a big sip of your coffee without blowing on it and burn your tongue as punishment for what you said." I say jokingly, making Donghun laugh. But I'm still shocked when he does it and manages to not spit all over the car.

We go back and forth like this for some time until the clock reads 3:30 A.M and we sit there half asleep, our coffee's long gone.

"Truth or dare?" Donghun asks through a yawn.

"Truth." I answer, rubbing my eyes. Exhausted.

"Do you prefer cats or dogs?"

"Dogs."  I answer, not hesitating.

Donghun nods, "I figured. I have a cat."

"You seem like a cat person." I say, pulling my sweatshirt closer to my neck.

"She's a special kind of cat." Dongun says, "Hae is a dwarf cat."

I let out a gasp, my excitement coming through my voice a little too much. "She stays little forever?"

Donghun lets out a chuckle at my excitement, "Yes, she does." He meets my eyes as he continues, "You should meet her sometime."

I can't help but smile at Donghun, somehow feeling my night was made by him saying i could meet little Hae. Donghun smiles back at me and holds my gaze for a little too long, making me nervous until i look away and clear my throat.

We lapse into silence for awhile, staring at the quiet road. I feel half asleep when Donghun's voice cuts through my head.

"Truth or dare?" He says softly.

"Truth." I answer, yawning against my sleeve.

"What happened to your first partner?'

I freeze, wondering if i heard him right. Half of me hopes i heard him very wrong.

"I won't force you to tell me." Donghun adds quickly. "But since we've been partners for awhile i think it only fair i know."

I fiddle with my sleeves, knowing he's right. But i still felt hesitant to tell him. Even though he had asked me this question before and i refused to tell him. The car is silent for awhile. My minds swims as it tries to find words.

"When i first joined the force," I begin, making Donghun face me. "I didn't have a partner. I was really new so i was trained by others and handled odd jobs around the station. Then after a year, they let me have a partner. His name was Sanghoon. He was just a kid. Spry, goofy, late to almost all of our shifts. But incredibly smart and loving. He was like a little brother to me."

I pause a moment, trying not to tear up. Donghun sits patiently beside me.

"Then one day, me and Sanghoon got called to a bomb threat. Our job was just to talk the terrorist down and wait for the bomb squad to come in. The guy pulled a gun out and was going to start shooting and before he could Sanghoon tackled him to the ground and took the gun away. But the terrorist managed to get his gun back and get away from Sanghoon. And he shot him."

I take a shaky breath and focus on holding back tears. I don't even notice that Donghun had laced his fingers through mine. "I held his head and tried to stop the bleeding. His eyes were so full of tears from fear. But at the same time, he was so brave. He slipped into unconsciousness and went into shock and was taken to a hospital. But he was so unstable even after surgery that the family decided to take him off life support. He died five days later."

I feel Donghun slide a finger down my cheek, wiping a tear away as he says softly, "I’m sorry."

I focus back on the road and don't answer him. Trying to shut off the emotions that had been kept inside for too long.

Donghun takes my face in his hands, making me meet his eyes. My body tenses under his touch and i feel my cheeks grow hot upon realizing how close his face was to mine.

"That wasn't your fault.” Donghun says more firmly, "It was an accident. Losing someone never makes you a bad person. You hear me?"

I nod my head. Surprised by the firmness in his voice but at the same time grateful to hear those words from someone who tried to understand me.

Donghun's hands stay on my face, keeping me pinned there. I feel his thumb rub back and forth against my cheek, making me blush harder.

I stare at him, not entirely sure what to do. My body tense and rigid against his touch. Donghun's gaze lingers over my eyes and then down to my mouth, making a shiver go down my spine. But I'm still surprised when his nose brushes against mine gently before closing the gap and meeting my lips.

I suck in a breath and keep my eyes open for a second before letting them close as his lips move against mine, His hand moves from my cheek to the back of my neck pulling me closer. I let my hands rest against his chest as i enjoy the contrast between the cold night and his lips.

Donghun lets out a sigh as my tongue meets his and my fingers find his soft hair. I let out a gasp when he pulls me from my seat in the drivers spot and onto his lap and pulls my hair out of its ponytail before letting his fingers entangle in it as he starts kissing down my neck. His warm breath fanning across my cold skin.

I shiver but manage to get out between breaths, "Donghun, we're still on duty." I point out.

Donghun bites my jawline making me groan before he says. "It's 4 A.M, which means our shift ended. Which means, you can't escape, princess."

Donghun kisses my lips again before adding, "But something tells me you aren't going to try to leave."

I bite his lower lip before responding, "I'm still your superior."

Donghun smirks and rests his head against the headrest, making me run one of my nails down his neck until he lets out a sharp breath. "Just tell me where to bite then.”

MAIN MASTERLIST

#ace #ace donghun #ace x reader #ace kpop #ace imagines #ace imagine #ace fanfictions #kpop #kpop fanfiction #kpop x reader #x reader #donghun #donghun x reader #a.c.e #a.c.e kpop #a.c.e x reader #a.c.e donghun #a.c.e donghun x reader #a.c.e imagines #a.c.e imagine #a.c.e fanfiction #kpopmadness writings

[rq-s]

Title: Falling Down 

Pairing: Xu Minghao / NB!Reader

Genre: Light Angst & Platonic OR Romantic

Word Count: 2.9k+

Warnings: None. However, I do interpret the timeline and meaning of his lyrics loosely. I can’t and don’t claim that it’s the “correct” way to do so; he wrote it to be ambiguous for a wide audience to enjoy. Please watch the Falling Down Making Film for clarity.

Credits: ENG Translation of Falling Down 

Summary: You and Minghao have been consistent penpals since 2004, sharing each other’s cultures, languages, passions, and lives as you both grew up. 2014 came around and letter from him only came in 4 times, and only 1 in 2015. The last this you ever heard from him read he was a bird in a cage.

Notes: Italic = letter  ... = omitted letter content 

My Masterlist

Spring 2004

“How about this one, honey?” Mom handed me a postcard from a spot on the rack that I couldn’t reach. The large font caught my attention and told me it was a landscape picture of the closest national park. Though nothing in the picture was recognizable, it reminded me of camping, which made me smile despite having never been before.

“Sure.” Was all I said, and I followed her as she pushed our full shopping cart to the register and began chatting with the cashier.

Like usual, I quickly put the postcard on the conveyor belt along with the groceries. As soon as it was empty, I went to the bagging station and put the scanned and bagged items back into the cart. Making sure to the boxes and cartons together neatly like Tetris, careful not to squish the bread.

“What a diligent little kid you have!” The cashier spoke, her voice worn with age, but with a sense of joy that reminded me of a stereotypical grandmother.

“She always says I do it wrong.” Mom joked, smirking at me. She never did let go of my “If you want it done right, do it yourself.” attitude I had even as a kid.

 Mom finished paying, and we went put into the chilly morning air of the parking lot that was made even colder by the shadow of the supermarket. I once again moved the bags from the cart to the trunk and brought the cart to the nearest drop off spot while Mom started the car.

The ride home was mostly silent, save for the sound of the road beneath the wheels and the hum of the heater.

“Thanks for letting me do the penpal thing, Mom.”

“You’re welcome, but remember the deal; you get more chores to do. You’re 7 years old now, you can handle doing the dishes by yourself, right?” The tone of her voice was completely serious, but I couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’ve been helping with the dishes for years, and I’ve learned from the best. I’ve got this!”

 When we got home, I scoured the bags for that postcard, and luckily it was only bent on one corner. I wrote down bit of info about that park - whatever Google told me, and set it aside. I grabbed the template application from my school binder and filled in the blanks. 

Hello! My name is _____________, I’m __ years old, and I am from ________! I am learning Mandarin, but I’m still a beginner. I hope to learn more about your culture and language as we exchange letters!

For now, I will tell you a bit about myself. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Along with this letter is a postcard and other information about where I am from!

I hope to hear from you soon!

Signed,

_____________

It was a pretty basic template that we had to copy from, and in retrospect, it was cringy as all heck, but it had to be formatted juuust right and follow the guidelines exactly, or the penpal program admin’s wouldn’t accept it.

From what I was told, someone from China who’d also applied and been approved would be paired with me, based on age and interests. Only this first letter was prewritten. Once we were paired up, the letters themselves and the mailing of them was up to me and my family. 

I was lucky I got a match at all, most of the kids in my class didn’t. I learned pretty quickly why: I was the only one who put “dancing” as an interest.  

Summer 2007

...

This was a frog I found at the lake! Mom got mad that I touched it, and when it jumped out of my hands and back into the water, it got mud all over us!! 

Later we had a barbecue and some other campers came buy, but their kids were teenagers and didn’t wanna play with me, so here is a picture of me pouting in the tent instead of having fun. 

...

This is the last one, when we finally got home from the long car ride. we all were sunburned really bad, but it looks like you can see freckles on my face because of it! 

Whenever either of us would go on trips, even just to the water park or to a festival, we’d take Polaroid pictures to send. Most the earlier pictures Minghao sent were of him at tournaments, then they turned into selfies from after dance practice. It wasn’t until they were in their teens that he began to take more artsy pictures, with the occasional selfie thrown in. He’d always put at least one polaroid in each envelope, and photography quickly became one of the many things he excelled at. 

Winter 2010

…

And I still can’t believe you were on TV!! Twice!!! All these letters… I can use them as blackmail someday when you’re a superstar! Muahah!!

I’m not nearly as good as you still, but Miss Lilly says my footwork has gotten a lot better! I wish you could teach me, but words don’t have the same effect as seeing it. I doubt I’d get it even if you tried to explain… and don’t even think about trying to teach me any martial arts, my brain will melt!!

…

My letters were always a bit longer than Minghao’s, and were full of run on sentences and unorganized thoughts. He was always clear and concise, yet sensitive. He always gave strong and encouraging advice on my Mandarin, but my English tips barely seemed to help him. I always cared more about getting to know him and telling my own stories than about practicing. Though, I don’t know what stories I had worth telling as a 13 year old. We contrasted each other a lot, and Mom said it made us a better fit for each other.

It wasn’t a weekly thing, but we always wrote when we could and has a steady back and forth. Sometimes the envelopes were thick, with many pages, postcards, candies, cool leaves or rocks we’d found, songs we had been listening too; things we cared about and wanted to share. But sometimes they were thin, barely a page long, with hastily written characters and a sincere apology. Both made me smile the same just the same – both showed how much he cared.

 Spring 2012

Perhaps it was because we were the same age, and despite not meeting, had spent so much time together. He somehow always understood me, and never made jokes when I was opening up about the less fun sides of life. He went at his own pace, and it took quite some time, but he eventually felt comfortable doing the same.

…

I’ve worked so hard for this, I know I’m capable, but I’m genuinely terrified. But I’m excited, too. I feel so overwhelmed and I don’t feel like I can tell anyone, they’ll worry, or they’ll tell me I shouldn’t do it.

I want to try. I want to be on that stage and in that tournament and I want to come out having earned something.

…

 Fall 2012

 Congratulations!! Now I can brag that I know THE Xu Minghao who won 8th at a WORLD DANCE COMPETITION!!!! I knew you’d do great. Yeah, you were nervous, but your hard work showed through!

As soon as I read the news online, I was so happy. Eight is a good number, right? I think It suits you. Even when you're laying down, you have infinite potential! That’s you, Xu Minghao, Number 8, my best friend.

Come to think of it, it's been about 8 years since we met, hasn’t it? it must be some sort of prophecy!!! Haha I’m kidding, but seriously… That’s more than half our lives. We’ve spent knowing each other half of the time we’ve even been on this Earth!

I’m really glad I know you, Minghao. I’d be lonely without your letters, I think. I hope I make your days brighter, like you make mine. I hope we never forget about each other.

 It was rare for me to get so sentimental, but he needed someone to be his fan, and I wanted to be the best fan of Xu Minghao I could be. Not to say I was the first, like I would joke about doing, but because he deserves it. I knew it from the way he talked about training, that he’d make himself a star someday, no matter what.

Because of this, though, it was this letter and onward that we stopped doing the copies and corrections. I noticed myself missing his teasing marks on my papers, or the cheeky smiley faces he’d draw when I did well. We stopped sending trinkets and polaroids too, so each envelope felt a lot emptier.

 Spring 2013

I’m really going to Korea now… The flight is in a few days, I’ll send you another letter from the new address as soon as I get there, so please wait for it!

…

I had bad dreams back then, about how things would be different, slower and distant. His letters were a significant part of my life, and I was afraid to lose that. Yet I was surprised he was even allowed to keep sending me letters. Retrospectively thinking though, it wasn’t like he wasn’t allowed to write to his family.

Was I like family to him back then?

 Winter 2013

I’m sorry for not writing you back sooner. The company has been really busy with Seventeen TV starting. I’ve been practicing a lot, I barely have time to eat or sleep, let alone sit down and write. There’s barely anyone around who knows Mandarin, and I’m still just learning how to make sentences in Korean, and they call me Myungho… Those who I can talk to are all boys, but they’re my friends, and possible group members, so I shouldn’t mind.

I miss your handwriting. Sometimes I reread our old letters, and notice that we’ve changed so much. But I keep every memory, did you know that?

I always feel better quickly. When I think about being on a stage, having fans singing with us and cheering for me… It makes me so happy that I cry, sometimes. But then I can’t help but think, “Will it ever be me? Or will I just dream of being there, and someone else will get the chance?”

That’s usually when I find one of your letters. The one you sent on my birthday a couple months ago, that you sprayed with that citrus scent? It’s my favorite, I relax so much when I read it. It reminds me of home, somehow.

I’ll try to write more often, I’m sure you’ve been patiently waiting. Let’s exchange pictures again, it’s been a while, right? I just really miss you.

 Was he like family to me? No… I think, back then at least, it was something special for me.

Summer 2014

Hey! I haven't heard from you since April! I miss you a lot, but I know you must be really busy. I’ve been trying to watch the previous Seventeen TV episodes when I can, the other boys seem funny and nice. I hope they all take care of you, like you say Junhui has been.

I’m always wishing you sweet dreams, I worry about how you’ve been. I wish I’d have asked for your phone number or email or something before, but now that you’re so busy and under a big company… I just hope these letters and postcards reach you well.

…

Fall 2014

…

Also, they’ve been saying I’ll qualify to be on SeventeenTV soon. The others are hoping it’s a sign that we’ll get to debut soon. You’ll watch it, right?

Things are looking bright for me and my brothers here, but I can’t help but feel full of dread. I can’t pinpoint why. Junhui said it might be stage fright, but I don’t feel afraid.

I know they all support me, and I support them, but I feel like I might disappear, and not even you would remember me. I know its not true but it’s what I’m feeling.

…

Winter 2014

I SAW YOU!! I watched it as soon as it released, I didn’t understand what most of them were saying without English subtitles, but I could understand you, and I saw you! I’m so proud of you Minghao, you’re an official member of Seventeen!! You’ve been working so hard, I’m sure you’re exhausted. Please try and take time to rest and heal before debut, all of you need it!

…

Spring 2015

May 26th 2015. That is the day I debut. I know we haven't talked much, but I hope you’ll be there in spirit. Thinking about you cheering for me makes it easier to handle. I’ll fight for you, for me, for them, and for us. I’ll try, even though things feel like they’re ending.

I’m going to be busier than before. I’m not sure about the contract, but I’ll try to still get letters out. For now, have this. Thank you for everything.

A layer of grey I can't escape Walls built of fear are colored all over with red Who will listen to the sound from the bottom of my heart at the end of the world(/day) There's no one by my side Flee Flee

The world is collapsing, shattering, breaking I can't find love at all So why why why (Where will I ) fall, where Hidden by the dark clouds, helpless and pitiful Can't feel myself, light is lost Before the end of the world(/day), (I'm) yelling, sounds of pain But there's no one by my side Flee Flee

The world is collapsing, shattering, breaking After I disappear completely, (you) won't realize I once existed Why why why (Where will I ) fall, where Falling endlessly, falling in silence What did I ever do wrong

Missing someone you’ve never met is an entirely separate kind of heartbreak. I began to doubt every single thought and feeling I had, every single word I wrote, everything began to bleed between imagination, ideal, and reality. 

The Minghao I watched on the screen wasn’t the Minghao I knew, and I started to wonder if I ever truly knew him in the first place. I felt like a fool, and even then, I continued to be foolish. I wanted to believe I knew what he meant; that I understood him, but as the years went on, I got more and more lost.

They won awards, they went on variety shows, they released albums, they went on tours. They traveled, they worked, and they grew. I needed to believe I knew him, but Minghao and The8 are not the same. And as I grew to love The8, Minghao began to fade into the back of my mind. When I watched him try to express himself beyond his stage persona, each time I saw flashes of a beautiful bird locked in a rusted cage.

I always kept the letters.

They’re my private collection of memories between he and I. They were the only way I knew it was real. I could run my fingers over his handwriting, feel how he sometimes pressed too hard and left marks in the paper. I could see how the paper and ink warped when he accidentally got tears on it. I could look at his pictures from his childhood and know what he was thinking as he took it. 

I knew him.

Summer 2020

Hey, Minghao. It’s me, do you still remember my handwriting? Maybe it’s changed... No, I know it has, because I’ve changed as a person. It feels strange, I know what you’ve been up to, but you might’ve even forgotten my name. But I feel in my heart that you havn’t. Maybe thats wishful thinking.

Anyway, I’m so proud of you Minghao. You’re a superstar, just like you dream of being back when you first started dancing. You’ve become part of a family, and have so many fans cheering for you every single day. Congratulations!!

…

5 years. Does the smell of citrus still remind you of home? Of me? Maybe it just reminds you of the hard times you had back then. But I guess you’ve been reminiscing about that a lot lately?

I watched the video as soon as it came out, and I was shaking as soon as I heard your voice. That song isn’t a special piece of yourself that you shared with me anymore, but it’s part of your story for the whole world to see, and you told it so well.

...

I miss you.

It was finally time.

It was a fairly thick envelope, inside were many postcards of where I’ve been, quickly written notes as I reacted to songs and memorable moments, and full-length letters that never got sent.

It was so surreal to sit in front on him at this panel. He looks just like he did as a kid, but more refined, stronger inside and out. His aura intimidated me like I was seeing a skyscraper touch the clouds for the first time, and yet he maintained eye contact with me like I was a dandelion about to be blown away with the breeze.

“It’s me, Minghao.” The words barely drifted from my mouth, but they struck him like lightning as realization stealing his breath away. For a moment I saw his eyes twinkle, and the corners of this lips twitch.

A member of staff took the envelop away from him; he barely was able to read the label.

My time would be up soon.

His fingers intertwined with mine and he opens my photobook to his page with his free hand, looking down for only a moment to sign it.

The next Carat was nudging my shoulder already.

“Not yet.” I whispered both to them and to him with a squeeze of his hand. He did the same, like a beat of the heart, and then released. I watched his chest rise and fall with a deep breath as he gave the next fan the same focus and care he gave me. 

I forced a smile on my face as I scooted over.

Did he truly realize it was me? Why could I feel his heart beating faster from the tips of his fingers? Did he want to contact me all this time, or had he chosen to stop and was scared to tell me? Did he miss me too?  

My smile was only fake for a moment, though.

I was meeting his second family for the first time, after all, I needed to make a good impression. After years of keeping up with the group, it should have been easier to feel comfortable, and to be happy like the others.

Yet my hands continued to shake, their faces blurred and the sounds around me went quiet. My senses went in and out of focus like waves reaching and leaving the shore.

The warmth and the texture of his hand stained mine, and as i stared down at it after going back to my seat in the crowd, it felt alien. His hands are same hands that have been writing my name on every envelope for so many years...

I felt like I was falling.

#the8 #xu minghao #minghao #the8 x reader #xu minghao x reader #minghao x reader #seventeen #svt #svt the8 #seventeen the8 #minghao fluff #minghao angst #seventeen x reader #svt x reader

[hey-hamlet]

BNHA AU Ideas: Genetics Prodigy

Also on AO3!

TL;DR:  

Quirks might be the coolest thing ever, but they aren't magic, they're genetic. So what's to stop one very stubborn quirkless prodigy from working out how to give himself some?

Ok so! Tech Genius!Izuku AUs are a thing, right? I love them to bits but my problem is I know nothing about tech so I can't write them, but what I do know is biology!

Biology/Genetics prodigy Izuku giving himself quirks!

Stays friends with Katsuki (They have a rough patch but they work through it), not sure if I want Izuku to fiddle with Katsuki's quirk or not - not sure if I'll make the quirk limit 1 or 2, but I've always headcanoned you can give more quirks to someone born quirkless, so Izuku will end up with a few

So, after the dawn of quirks, a lot of, if not all, genetic research stopped. Sure, tech marched onwards, but genetics became an even bigger taboo than it was before. Izuku is a little genius, and this his massive interest in quirks when he's told he’s quirkless? It's more of a “how do I change this” than a “can I change this”

Izuku has always been the smartest person Katsuki knows. They have a rough patch at the beginning where Katsuki is trying to claw this one thing he's better at Izuku than over his head, to make himself ‘better’ than izuku

People have always called the quirkless worthless. If he’s less than a quirkless kid, what does that make him? Izuku eventually manages to drag it out of him and tells him about all the things people did before the dawn of quirks. Katsuki changes his mind to instead believing that everyone else is stupid for thinking quirks are everything and is now very vocal about that. (He still loves his quirk though, as does Izuku.)

His first real trial is a bit of a silly one: he cures Katsuki’s lactose intolerance. They were both salty they couldn’t share their icecream.

Collection of quirks:

Bakugo:

Explosion

Fire Manipulation

Midoriya:

Telekinesis

Heal

Forcefield

Jump

I want Izuku to give himself a quirk aged like, 8, with bakugo there for the ride as a lab hand, and I want them to realise with mounting horror what they've managed to do

bakugo turning to izuku and whispering "how many quirks would it take to beat - be as strong as - all might?" and izuku just shrugs because he hadn't thought about that but what he's done could start a new breed of bioweapons

he knows enough about the brain to see that more than 2 quirks in a quirked persons body, or more than 4 in someone born quirkless would be seriously damaging, but he's really scared about what could happen if he did go over that limit.

he won't, but he's curious, and he feels a little sick because of it

Nezu catches wind of this baby bio genius, one of the red flags is the only recent research done into quirks was actually from the lab nezu was kept in, so when he sees someone digging into that research he's ready to rain hell down upon them

then he sees an 8-year old that gave himself a quirk and he's like "oh. son."

oh he also totally has a little collection of lab rats that he spoils to bits - he's careful not to give them any quirks that would hurt them / cause an ethical issue. mostly they just have colour changing and glowing quirks, one of them can photosynthesize

he's a very good boy and his little rat children love him

So, when one is as hopelessly heroic as Izuku, it tends to be hard to avoid ‘accidentally’ using your quirk in public. When you have a heal quirk? It’s basically impossible.

Healing quirks actually have a special provision under the vigilantism act, along with exemptions due to age, but when Izuku gets caught, the police don’t tell him that. They honestly just want to try and scare the kid straight because it was a ‘miracle’ (forcefield) that he didn’t get hit by the falling rubble.

So Naomasa is brought in, as usual for the Mustutafu area, and asks the basic questions: name, age, quirk. Izuku, being a genius but still like 8 and scared he's going to jail lies for the first two questions, and he doesn’t lie very well because the poor kid is chronically honest.

‘Um, my name is – Tsubasa! Yeah!.” “I’m 10!”

But the last question throws Naomasa for a loop. “What’s your quirk?” “I was born quirkless, I’ve got the x-ray to prove it.”

That wasn’t a lie. But he visibly used a quirk, they saw it happen. And Naomasa suddenly gets a terrible feeling, because there is only one person he knows that can take someone from quirkless to quirked.

“So you don’t have any quirk?” “No sir.” A lie. Fuck. He lets Izuku go because, despite the horror of a child caught in AFO’s clutches, he might be the most valuable lead they’ve ever had. So they keep an eye on him.

It doesn’t take long to see him using more than one quirk. The kid is creative and isn’t bad at disguising them as the same quirk, but using a forcefield to shield you and your friend from rain is visibly different from telekinetically doing the same, if you know what you’re looking for. And boy do Naomasa and All Might know what they’re looking for.

Their second heart attack comes from an absent “So have you been practising with flame manipulation?” “Of course, dipshit, I’m not lazy. We’ve gotta practise to become heroes, don’t we?” “I know, Kacchan! I’m just excited!”

They keep freaking out about it until they bring in Nezu. It takes him a week or so, but he quickly finds out whats going on. “So, I’m not sure if this is what you wanted to hear but: It’s not All for One,” general sighs of relief “But the child has worked out how to synthesize quirks.” PANICKED NOISES

I feel like izuku is def. the first to make a quirk suppressant chemical, which really interests overhaul. Unfortunately, so i assume he can counter than with something that could just speed up the metabolism to flush another chemical out and because aizawa's quirk binds to the quirk factor, he could just give himself a quirk that has a different biological mechanism - confusing the fuck out of everyone involved

Timeline of Izuku’s shenanigans

Katsuki: lactose intolerance cured, proof of concept – age 6

A very nice rat: Attraction of small objects, yes the rat used it and yes it was amazing because other rats counted as small objects – age 7

Izuku: Attraction of small objects – age 8 (Inko’s quirk)

Katsuki: Flame control, a portion of Hisashi’s quirk from Izuku’s genes – age 8

Izuku: Jump, from a detailed study about a quirked rabbit – age 8 (late)

Another very nice rat: given the ability to live to 10 years old. His name is Hermes – age 9

Izuku: Starts a medical degree – age 10

Izuku: Forcefield, partly from a study of a weak forcefield quirk from the beginning of quirks when genetic studies were less taboo, combined with some promoter sequences from Katsuki’s quirk – age 10

Izuku: Heal, something he’d been working on since the beginning, created without reference for a similar quirk, his masterpiece – age 13 (This quirk is not tied to the quirk factor and therefore can not be stopped by erasure or the quirk erasing bullets.)

Izuku: Finishes the medical degree – age 14

Katsuki tries to get him to write Dr. Midoriya on his application to UA but he refuses, sadly. Not that it matters, Nezu recognises the last name from some of the only quirk research since the lab he was kept in was shut down. He’s very interested about one of the boy’s earliest papers; a case study about a quirkless boy born to 2 4th generation quirked parents, and the conclusion he drew: it wasn’t possible. It doesn’t take a genius to work out the quirkless kid was Izuku himself.

Izuku and Katsuki walk to UA together, Uraraka still saves him from tripping, Katsuki was just laughing at his suffering. Izuku’s a little less awkward in this AU and actually manages to thank her. They all enter the hall together.

Izuku never exactly kicked him mumbling habit, Iida still tells him off. Katsuki is trying to fight the urge to fly down there and kick his ass. Not that they can see, but Uraraka is also glaring at Iida for being rude to the nice boy.

Iida tries to stop Izuku from saying hi to Uraraka but she blows straight past him, loudly thanking Izuku for stopping to say hi. She’s glaring at Iida, Izuku is blissfully ignorant of that. Iida feels like he's offended the wrong person.

The exam starts, Izuku jumps straight into the middle of the exam. His legs hurt but he's totally clear of the other test takers. He starts kicking butt. He yanks wires from ports, tears screws from joints, punches robots with forcefield protected fists, etc. He gets maybe 30 points like this.

All around him he can see people in danger, he throws up countless forcefields to protect his fellow test takers. The judges are impressed with the versatility of the quirk, All Might, even though he knows Izuku isn’t connected to AFO, is having a slight breakdown. Nezu is incredibly impressed. Izuku is flagging though, his forcefield quirk takes some serious energy when he doesn’t have much to spare.

The zero pointer is released. Uraraka is pinned, and, unlike canon, she isn’t unscathed. Her ankle is snapped under the rubble, her ribs are badly bruised. Izuku sees this happen and he just moves. He doesn’t trust his forcefield to hold enough weight, so he goes the other direction: brute force. Using his jump quirk, he rockets into the air, landing a solid, quirk enhanced kick to the face of the robot. As it teeters, he uses attraction of small objects on as many individual points as he can, flying over the back of the robots head. He lands with an impact that jars his teeth, just as the robot starts to tip backwards. He makes it to safety with seconds to spare.

He’s exhausted, so far into quirk exhaustion it isn’t funny, but he’s not done yet. He stumbles to Uraraka helps her lift the bolder off her broken ankle, and heals it. He collapses just as the test finishes, Uraraka catching him and keeping him safe from the last few bits of falling rubble. She’s so thrown by her healed ankle.

Recovery girl comes over, checking on Uraraka. She saw the injury on the cameras and felt bad for the poor girl, but when she gets over there’s nothing. Sure, there’s some blood, but under it all there isn’t even a single cut. Uraraka begs her to help the boy in her arms and she thinks she might know why. The boy looks half dead, likely quirk exhaustion. Still, she didn’t know anyone with a healing quirk was applying, normally Nezu would have told her.

#biology prodigy au #BNHA au #bnha #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #uraraka ochako #All Might #Iida Tenya

[dillydedalus]

april reading

oh yeah this is a thing. anyway in april i read about uhhh.... first contact (twice), murderers on skis & victorian church politics

the yield, tara june winch a novel about indigenous australian identity and history (now and throughout the 20th century) in three narrative strands. imo the narrative strand that consists of a grandfather writing a dictionary of his language (wiradjuri) in order to prove a claim to some land is by far the strongest, but overall i liked this quite a lot. 3/5

land of big numbers, te-ping chen a solid short story collection focused on modern china and young(ish) chinese people, both in china and the diaspora. i particularly liked the stories that had some slighty surreal or speculative elements, such as one about fruit that strongly evoke emotions when eaten and a group of people stuck in a train station for months as the train is delayed, which imo use their speculative aspects in effective (if not super subtle) ways to talk about society. 3/5

the pear field, nana ekvtimishvili (tr. from georgian by elizabeth heighway) international booker prize longlist! a short, fairly depressing read about a 18-year-old girl at a post-soviet school for developmentally disabled childred (but also orphans, abandoned children & other random kids) who is trying to get a younger boy adopted by an american couple. there seem to be a lot of novels set at post-soviet orphanages etc & imo this is a well-executed example of the microgenre, with the pear field full of pears that are never picked bc they don’t taste right as a strong central image. 3/5

the warden, anthony trollope (chronicles of barsetshire #1) ah yes, a 6-part victorian series about church politics in an english town, exactly the kind of thing i’m interested in. not sure why i committed to at least the first two entries of the series but here we are. despite this lack of interest (and disagreement with most of the politics on display here) i found this quite charming; trollope has a gift for an amusing turn of phrase & making fun of his characters in benevolent ways. 3/5

the lesson, cadwell turnbull first contact scifi novel set on the virgin islands, where an alien ship arrives one day. the aliens seem benevolent & share helpful technology, but also react with extreme violence to any aggression. they claim to be on earth to study.... something, but it’s never entirely clear what. the book makes some interesting choices (like immediately skipping over the actual first contact to a few years in the future, when the aliens are already established on the islands) but i thought much of it was kinda disjointed and confusing. 2/5

the heart is a lonely hunter, carson mccullers look, i get it, it’s all about the isolation & alienation (& dare i say loneliness) of 4 miserable characters projecting their issues on the central character singer, who is kind and patient and also deaf and mute, thus making him the perfect receptacle for their issues without really having to connect with him as a person and how that isolation hinders them socially, artistically, emotionally, politically, but like... i didn’t really like it. i didn’t hate it but i just felt very meh about it all. 2.5/5

acht tage im mai: die letzte woche des dritten reiches, volker ulrich fascinating history book about the last week(ish) of the third reich, starting with the day of hitler’s suicide and ending with the total surrender (but with plenty of flashbacks and forwards), and looking at military&political leadership (german and allied) as well as prisoners of war, forced laborers, concentration camp prisoners, and everyone else. very interesting look at what kästner described as the “gap between the not-anymore and the not-yet.” 3.5/5

firekeeper’s daughter, angeline boulley) i’ve been mostly off the YA train for the last few years, but this was a really good example of contemporary YA with a focus on ~social issues. ANYWAY. this is YA crime novel about daunis, a mixed-race unenrolled ojibwe girl close to finishing high school who is struggling with family problems, university plans, and feeling caught between her white and her native familiy when her best friend is shot in front of her and she decides to become a CI for an fbi investigation into meth production in the community. i really appreciated how hard this went both with the broader social issues (racism, addiction) and daunis’ personal struggles. there are a few bits that felt a bit didactic & on the nose (and the romance... oh well), but overall the themes of community, family, and the value of living indigenous culture are really well done & i teared up several times. 4/5

the magic toyshop, angela carter i love carter’s short stories but struggle with (while still liking) her novels so far. this one, a tale of melanie, suddenly orphaned after trying on her mother’s wedding dress in the garden, coming of age and awakening to womanhood or whatever. carter’s really into that. it’s well-written, sensual as carter always is, and the family melanie and her siblings are sent to, her tyrannical puppet-maker uncle, his mute wife and the wife’s two brothers, both fascinating and offputting (& dirty) make for an interesting cast of characters, but overall i just wish i was reading the bloody chamber again. 3/5

barchester towers, anthony trollope (chronicles of barsetshire #2) (audio) lol tbh i still don’t know why i am committing to this series about, again, church politics in 19th century rural england, but it’s just so chill & warm & funny (we love gently or not so gently - but always politely - mocking our characters) that i’m enjoying it as a nice little trip where people do some #crazyschemes to gain church positions or fight over whether there should be songs in church or whatever it is people in the 19th century fought about. it’s very relaxing. there also is a lot of love quadrangleyness going on and that’s also fun. trollope has weird ideas about women but like whatever, i for one wish mrs proudie much joy of her position as defacto bishop of barchester, she really girlbossed her way to the top. 3.5/5

semiosis, sue burke (semiosis #1) i love spinning the wheel on the “first contact with X weird alien species” & i guess this time we landed on plants! plant intelligence is interesting and the idea of plant warfare is really cool. i do like the structure, with different generations of human settlers on the planet pax providing a long-term view but this allows the author to skip over a lot of the development of the relationship between the settlers and the plant and locating the plot elsewhere, which i think is ultimately a mistake. i might continue w/ the series tho, depending on library availability. 2.5/5

one by one, ruth ware a bunch of start-up people go on a corporate retreat to a ski chalet in the alps, avalanche warning goes up, one of them disappears, presumably on a black piste, the rest get snowed in & completely cut off when the avalanche hits and then they get picked off *title drop* (altho really not that many of them). nice fluff when i had a miserable cold (not covid) but fails when it tries to go for deeper themes... like an attempt to address classism and entitlement sure... was made. also like what kind of luxury skiing chalet does not have emergency communication devices in case internet/phone lines are down...  i’d have sued just for that. 2/5

fake accounts, lauren oyler the microgenre of ‘alienated intellectual(ish) probably anglophone person has some sort of crisis, goes to berlin about it’ is my ultimate literary weakness - i almost never really like them, they mostly irritate me & yet i can never resist their siren call. this one is p strong on the irritation, altho at least the narrator does not ascribe much meaning to her decision to go to berlin after she a) discovers her boyf is an online conspiracy theorist (probably not sincerely) and b) gets a call that said boyf has died, it’s really just something to do to avoid doing anything else. but other than that it’s so BerlinExpat by the numbers, like she lives in kreuzkölln! put her somewhere else at least! there is one scene that elevates the BerlinExpat-ness of it all (narrator asks expatfriend for advice on visa applications, expatfriend assures her that it’s really easy for americans to get visa, adds “especially now” while literally, as the narrator remarks, gesturing at the falafel she’s eating) other than that, the novel is.... fine. it’s smart, but not really as smart as it thinks it is, which is a problem bc it thinks it’s just sooo incisive. whatever. 2/5

the tenant of wildfell hall, anne bronte this is reductive but: jane eyre: i could fix him // wuthering heights: i could make him worse // wildfell hall: lmao i’m gonna leave his ass anyway i enjoyed the part that is actually narrated by the titular tenant of wildfell hall, helen (which thankfully, i think, is most of it) because the perspective of a woman who runs away from her abusive alcoholic of a husband is genuinely interesting and engaging, while gilbert, the frame story narrator who falls in love with helen, is.... the worst. i mean he’s not the worst bc the abusive husband arthur is there and hard to beat in terms of worseness, but he’s pretty fucking bad. imagine if helen had found out that gilbert attacked her secret brother over a misunderstanding, severely injured him & LEFT HIM TO DIE & then (when dude survived & the misunderstanding got cleared up) apologised like well i guess i didn’t treat you quite right! she’d have to run away from her second husband as well! poor girl. 3/5

#the books i read #long post #lol i keep forgetting to finish & post these #anyway gilbert fucking sucks! like his name is gilbert you can do better helen

[calumrose]

Trigger [Police/Gang!AU] Chapter 5 || C.H

A//N: This is definitely the biggest piece I have written to date, but I’m really proud of it. It’s probably the heftiest piece I have ever tried to write but I really felt like this scene was a major point in the story so it didn’t deserve to be written with my eye watching the word count. Enjoy!

Word Count: 13.1k 

Summary: Eloise Gray and Calum Hood, not two people you would ever think to put together. What started as a ploy for power turned into a romance, resulting in the realisation that loving your enemy may not be such a bad thing after all.

Previous Chapters: Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

20 Days Left

Spending the last twenty minutes arguing over which movie to watch wasn’t exactly how Eloise had planned for the night to go. Calum stood opposite the couch meanwhile Eloise sat comfortably, attempting to listen to Calum’s pitch over which movie they should watch, claiming for his choice of movie to be the better option.

“But Fight Club is a classic, c’mon, El!” His eyes were wide as he stood in front of her, his broad posture blocking the black TV screen as he waved his arms around, his voice pleading for the girl he was spending his evening with to be convinced by his plea.

“Is this how you try to convince wanted criminals to confess?” The teasing manner of her voice couldn’t be hidden, crossing her legs over one another and she leaned back on his black couch, “It’s very cute.”

“Can we just focus for a minute and pick a movie?” Calum sighed, letting out a playful groan of frustration as he held the remote in his hand, aimlessly pointing it behind him at the blank TV screen.

“I thought I was picking the movie anyway, or at least that’s what we agreed,” Her hands worked as she unlocked her phone, pulling up their text messages where she recited the text he had sent, Sure, you choose. Sounds good. “By the sounds of that, you were agreeing to let me pick the movie. And right now, it seems as though you’re going back on your word – not exactly the best message to be giving out as a respected police officer.” Her voice slowed as she finished her sentence, each syllable clear as day.

Eloise watched as his expression softened, his familiar bright smile spreading across his lips, his cheeks pushing up and the little crinkles by the corners of his eyes made their debut. God, that smile. Eloise couldn’t think of a prettier sight. “I suppose I did, huh?” He let a single breath of laughter escape his plump lips, walking back over to the couch as he handed her the remote.

She let her hands do the work, expertly swiping through the selection of movie titles he had collected, her eyes scanning each individual name before her eyes fell on the familiar one that brought a smile to her face as the memory of the first time she watched the movie came to mind.

“Why do I get the feeling you’ve seen this movie before?” He smirked, chuckling as he watched her finger linger on the ‘select’ button for a few seconds as she read the familiar movie description of ‘10 Things I Hate About You’ that she should have been able to recite, “And by that, I mean, a few times.”

“It’s one of the best movies ever made, you can’t fight me on this,” She laughed as she pressed play, allowing the opening credits to begin to play through his TV speakers, “It’s an absolute masterpiece and Heath Ledger is by far the best part of the entire movie!”

Calum couldn’t hide the happy crease in his face as he watched as his date seemed to get giddy at the thought of the ninety’s movie. It brought a warm feeling to his stomach, as if it pleased him to see her happy. It made him feel as though it was all he wanted; to see her happy.

The familiar angsty music filled the room as they eventually fell to silence and allowed their eyes to fixate on the screen, watching as it played out. Scenes that Eloise could swear she had watched a hundred times played out in front of her eyes, her ability to recite the scenes being one she fought against, trying to enjoy the moment and imagine she was re-watching the favourite movie of hers for the first time all over again.

Eloise smiled at the iconic scene where Patrick, played by Ledger, publicly announced his attraction for Julia Stiles’ character, bursting into the famous rendition of ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You’ by Frankie Valli, the scene bringing a nostalgic smile to her face as it had done for years. She could remember the giddy flutter of butterflies that erupted in her stomach at the scene without failure every time she witnessed it. Her smile only grew when she spotted Calum to her left, his lips gently moving as he mumbled along the cheerful tune.

Throughout the movie she couldn’t fight her eyes naturally drifting to the golden handsome man who laid out on the couch beside her, his bicep bulging as his arm curled behind his head, the sight proving difficult to not be seen. She watched as the crinkles by his eyes appeared as he smiled, his laughter echoing throughout the room at the sound of the terrible jokes that were thrown around throughout the movie, the godawful humour being something newer movies no longer carried; the kind of humour to bring a cherished smile to anyone’s face. Her own smile naturally grew at the scene where Mr Stratford confirms that he’s allowing Kat to attend her dream school, but also depleted just as quickly as the poem scene came into play.

Eloise’s eyes focus on the movie playing out, every word of Kat’s recited poem playing in her mind. Her heart clenching ever so slightly when Kat begins to break, talking about how hates it when Patrick makes her laugh and even more when he makes her cry. She doesn’t even fight the pull of her eyes to Calum, watching him from the corner of her eyes, feeling the sting of salty tears brimming behind her eyes, unable to understand where they were suddenly coming from. She held back a shaky breath as she continued to listen as the scene unfolded, the emotions conveyed on screen somehow being taken on by the individual sitting on the couch as she watched it play.

She strained her eyes as she tried to push back the sting, silently cursing herself for letting her emotions get to her caused by a scene of a movie she had watched countless times and had never cried at before. She didn’t understand why she felt so tense and emotional during the movie, hating to admit to herself that she had felt rather on edge the entire time ever since she pressed play, initially playing it off as just excited jitters from watching a movie that she loved.

And then the final scene rolled in, Eloise’s stomach clenching almost painfully tight, she attempted to ready herself for what was coming; a scene that unintentionally broke Eloise’s dark heart throughout the years without fail.

Patrick’s simple yet powerful confession was one that stuck with Eloise throughout the years for no reason in particular, it always held a special place in her heart. But this time, as she sat with Calum and watched the short finale play out, she couldn’t stop the single tear roll down her cheek, the sneaky salt ridden droplet escaping her eye without her knowledge.

The whole plot of the movie made seemed to finally sense to Eloise; almost as if she lived it. Which wasn’t exactly a lie. Patrick was bought with cash and used as a pawn so someone else could get the benefits of the service he was being paid to carry out. It related quite immensely to her situation, except instead of money she was bought with threats and unfulfilled promises. But much like how Patrick had begun to fall for Kat for real, the money merely becoming a forgotten matter, Eloise realised that she was falling for Calum just like Patrick with Kat, the threats and empty promises that were directed to her simply becoming a dismembered thought.

It was as if Eloise was Patrick and Calum were Kat; a difficult individual who was instructed to play with someone’s emotions for a cruel antagonist’s own personal gain, only to realise after a short amount of time, how fantastic and mesmerising the victim of their game truly was. That’s what was getting to Eloise, that’s what was making her feel as though the movie was so applicable to how she felt.

She was convinced for so long that it was all psychological, all part of the game, only to find that the only game that was being played was with herself; toying with her own emotions until she was at breaking point. Her admission that she made to Paige a few days ago never left her, the unexpected yet powerful confession playing on her mind the entire build up to the date and even more so as they sat in one another’s company. She had fallen for him so quickly, it left her dazed, the thought of her heart feeling so warm and comforted by a man who she didn’t even know existed last week, was one that sent her head into a frenzy.

Eloise didn’t even hear the ending credits roll in, her ears becoming deaf to the sound of the familiar music before she felt a gentle tap on the side of her leg. She shook her head in a tight quick movement, clearing her throat as she looked over to Calum, finding his eyes already on her, a look of concern laced on his face.

She didn’t even flinch when he sat up, his toned arm reaching out as his thumb wiped the single wet tear from her skin, a soft smile on his face as his whispered a gentle, “What’s wrong?” It felt as if his skin contained the heat of a thousand suns, his skin eliciting a heat within her body that she tried to ignore.

The laugh was forced as it left her lips, her chest visibly shaking as she mustered the words to respond, “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Stupid romance movies get me when I least expect it, you know how it is.” She played it off with a gentle shrug, pursing her lips as she sat forward on the couch, letting the credits on the TV play out until they came to an end, a soft silence filling the room as the screen faded back to the selection menu.

Was it possible to feel so close to someone without spending much time with them? Was it normal to feel such a strong, warm sensation in your gut at the thought of them? Were you supposed to think about them in your spare time when you were apart? Were strangers supposed to feel this for other strangers?

It felt as though it was some form of forbidden connection that she couldn’t ignore no matter how hard she tried. But that’s what made it exciting; fuelling her with a stomach of butterflies that she wanted to feel again and again. Calum felt it too, the pull between the two of them getting stronger and stronger without them fully realising. It only caused Calum’s wish to know her to grow, feeling as if there were something more to her, something that made her different to everyone else. It fuelled a desire in him, one that he couldn’t fight, and neither could she when it came to her own.

“Can I ask you something? It’s probably gonna sound a bit bizarre but- “ She stopped herself, taking a calming breath as she thought for a moment, trying to find her words before she spoke, “Have you ever been involved with something that started off small, practically harmless, but before you even knew what was happening, it was completely out of hand? Almost as if you blinked and suddenly you were in too deep and had no way out?”

Calum thought for a minute, her question playing in his mind as he tried to think of an answer, contemplating giving a poetic answer about life but his brain couldn’t work fast enough to come up with one, the response he gave just being a simple one. “I know what you mean, something starting off as one thing then turning into something you never intended. I’ve had a few experiences like that; some better than others.”

Her breath turned unsteady, her chest shaking as she looked up at him as he spoke, watching as he wore his classic boyish smile with ease. It was ridiculous when she thought about it; how such a simple twist of his mouth could make her feel as though she was dancing. A dance that she was never taught, a dance that felt so wrong it was right. She felt as though her mind was torn in two, as if she had the devil and the angel perched on her shoulders as two voices screamed at her from two directions, only adding to the collection of voices that yelled at her on a daily basis, only confusing her further.

The events of the past few days played out in her memory, as clear as if she were watching them on the TV screen in Calum’s living room. She replayed every moment with him, each image being filled with boyish smiles and genuine laughter, soft touches being exchanged as if either body would vanish if touched with anything either than delicacy. The memory of the night at Mooney’s was the next memory to flood in, the sight of the young blond on the floor being fresh in her mind, the cold-hearted actions of Jay twisting her gut in pain as she recalled the poor life that was lost. The promise she made to herself replayed, assuring that she would end this, assuring that no more innocent people would die at the hand of the Gypsy Kings.

She tried to fight against familiar sounds that basked in the space in her head; a million voices rattling in circles at a million miles per hour. But there was one that stood out. The voice who screamed at her yet was soothing, it didn’t match the volume, but it made sense in a weird way. The voice sounded familiar, the smooth comforting voice assured her that what she felt was right, that the way she was feeling was how it was meant to be, that it made sense.

God, it sounded so familiar that it almost felt like home. It was so distant yet so near, a sound she almost didn’t recognise yet knew straight away.

It spoke as if it was advising her, assuring her that she was okay to feel this way. ‘Follow your heart’ it spoke, ‘Do what you know you need to’. It battled against every other voice, making its presence grand, well-known, and proud as it took centre stage, drowning out the screaming inside of every negative voice, only assurance and confirmation of what she knew being repeated inside.

‘You need to tell him’ The faint whisper tickled her ear as she focused on nothing but that one sound.

Eloise knew. She knew she had to tell him everything, but she was afraid. What was going to stop him from arresting her then and there? He was a respected police detective; everyone knew that. Why would he risk his career and bend the rules just to help her out? So, he had gone on a few dates with her, kissed a few times, it wasn’t like they had slept together or said they were anything more than people who were getting to know one another… There was nothing to give any indication that he wouldn’t toss every moment they spent together aside to abide the one simple rule he followed every day: the law.

But what’s the point if worrying about the risk if she wasn’t going to take it?

The TV screen turned to black, Eloise’s hand placing the remote onto the coffee table before she turned in place, pulling one leg up onto the couch while the other remained planted on the floor, her body facing where Calum sat. She had to it. Eloise rolled her lips into her mouth, taking a deep but trembling breath as she prepared to lay it all out in the open for the man opposite her, she was ready to lay herself on the line.

“Calum, um… I really need to tell you something and I…” She let out a heavy sigh as she glanced down at her white socks before looking back up, keeping her eyes low so they didn’t meet his, finding a focal point on a loose thread of his couch cushion. “I’ve got something big I need to tell you and I don’t know, god… I don’t know how you’re going to react, but any reaction is justified for what I’ve done. I’m so sorry for I’m about to say to you, and I swear, if you want me to leave and never show my face again then that’s fine. All I’m going to ask of you, is that you let me say my piece before you kick me out.”

The change in Calum’s body language didn’t have to be seen to be noticed. It shifted like the tension in the room; stiff and nerve-wracking. It didn’t do anything for the rush of hysteria the flowed through Eloise’s veins, the feeling very quickly being one she wanted to be rid of as soon as possible.

“Ever since that night I met you – my birthday – I haven’t been the same. It’s felt as though there’s been this unbearable rush, like I’m on a rollercoaster and I can’t get off. It only gets more intense every time that I’m with you, or when I think about you, and I don’t know how to stop it,” She swallowed a growing lump in her throat, trying to gain some form of control she never knew existed when she was him, “But I’ve been living a lie with you, my intentions weren’t good at the beginning, I was cruel and I led you on… But that changed when I got to see you for who you really were. It was as if something clicked; nothing particularly monumental but still just as powerful,” She played with the rings on her fingers, trying to find some form of distraction that would stop her voice from breaking, trying to stop herself from breaking, “It’s felt as if there’s been this seed in the back of my mind that’s been growing ever since, one that I tried so hard to ignore, pretending as though it wasn’t there or that it was going to be what destroyed me, but it kept telling me that I couldn’t follow through with the plan. It stopped me from making a big mistake.”

It was if she were awaiting a response that she knew she wouldn’t get just yet. She was nowhere near finished with her confession; she was only getting started. She had set herself up, now all she had to do was take the killer shot.

“I’m a Gypsy King.”

The words left her without time to think of softer blow. She knew she had to get it out into open; what better to do that than to just say it. She awaited the feeling of the walls closing in, for the floor to sink and swallow her whole, for Calum to stand up and arrest her there and then, for him to shout and recite the godawful slogan every police officer thrived on when they made an arrest. She waited to the jingle of cuffs, but what she didn’t expect was for them to never come. She never saw what was coming next, never mind the chance to prepare for it, or the words that she didn’t think she would hear.

“I know,” The words sat in the air for a few seconds, carving their way through the thick tension that clouded the large room. It was as if they paved the way for them to open into a conversation; an adult conversation that no one, not even them, would have thought would be needing to be had. Neither having expected to have fallen for someone leading a polar opposite lifestyle; one law-abiding and the other law-breaking. “I’ve known since that day we met at the café. My partner warned me about you being dangerous, and I wanted to know just how. So, I looked up your name in the NYPD records, and I found your file. I found the arrests, the non-guilty verdict for possession, as well as the others. Quite frankly, El, I’ve seen a lot worse. It would seem you’re not as dangerous as some make out.”

Calum could remember the files that had sat open on his computer distinctly, the names of the Gray’s and the tragedies that attached themselves to said name were heart-breaking. Something he knew he wouldn’t bring himself to hash out in front of her; having more compassion that most to withhold knowledge like that against someone who was deemed to be an enemy of the NYPD.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve told you from the beginning. I should have told you that morning when I found out you were a cop. From the minute I saw that photograph in your hall, I should have just left and saved us both the trouble, but then you came out and stopped me, flashing that annoyingly charming smile and I couldn’t make myself walk away,” Eloise let out a heavy sigh, her arm wrapping around her bent knee as she pulled it into her chest, as if to hold onto something to ground her. It felt as though she had a ten-ton weight pressing on her chest, the tightness almost painful as she dreaded how much more she still had to confess, a layer of sweat making its presence known on the back of her neck, baby hairs becoming damp as they clung to her skin as she found the strength to continue, “It was only supposed to be a stupid game; nothing real. It was all planned out, I was set out to be a rat for them, to worm my way in and create holes in whatever knowledge you guys had in anything to do with us. None of this was supposed to happen,” She pointed between the two of them, “I wasn’t supposed to get attached, I wasn’t supposed to feel anything real. I didn’t want to do it, please believe me when I say I didn’t, but it was either I do this, or I become the next member of my family to be found with a bullet in them.” To say she felt sick to say the words weren’t even close, her stomach twisting and turning while her throat became as dry as the desert, “I was selfish and wanted to live. My hand was twisted behind my back and I had no choice, but then it was as if something began to crack, as if my concern for whether I lived or not seemed to lessen as time went on it, which leads to me where I am right now.”

The pain in her face was visible, unable to be dismissed as she sat there and let her emotions bare themselves for all to see. It was as if she were holding her heart in her hands, waiting for it to take a final beat before it would break and vanish into thin air.

“And what am I supposed to do?” Calum’s voice echoed in her ears, his face unreadable although his tone was laced with irritation, as if unable to comprehend what was happening right now. You and her both, Calum.

Eloise still couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes, the chocolate swirls she would find gold speckles in that usually filled her with warmth would only fill her with dread as she awaited the unknown outcome of this session in a makeshift confessional.

She knew how twisted it sounded; how it was lies turned into truth. She feared what Calum thought, what was stopping him from letting his emotions take over and ending everything there and then. How was he supposed to react? She couldn’t blame him for being angry or upset. But she couldn’t help but hope that somewhere inside his heart he could see that the malicious intent that was set at the beginning – not by her – wasn’t a reflection of how she now felt.

“I can’t play blind to this,” His voice was low, quiet, almost a whisper as he watched her body language shift and change, “You’ve been playing with me this whole time; every text message, every word, every goddamn look was a fuckin’ lie. And I let you do it. I stood around like a fool and let you play with my heart. Do I look like a mug or something? Am I really that stupid?”

Eloise’s lips quivered at his words, her head shaking as her knee bounced, her foot tapping away against the wooden flooring, “No – No Cal, you’re not. I’m the one who decided to go along and play the stup- “

“I really liked you, El,” He cut her off, “It sounds crazy for me to even say. Two dates and a drunken night of kissing, and I’m more than ready to admit to myself and you that I’m in too deep. I’m falling head over heels for a girl that I don’t even know, and this has just confirmed exactly that. I really don’t know you at all…”

Eloise didn’t even know she was crying until she could taste the salt on her lips, unable to trust her voice to hold together and she just let herself go; allowing her body to do the talking and ignoring any form of sense that ran through her mind.

“You know me better than most. Calum, I’m a closed book with a goddamn padlock and you’re the only one even remotely close to the key. I know I never told you the truth at the beginning, but please, please, please believe me when I tell you I never once lied about how I feel about you. I want out, Calum, I want out of this cursed life that I’m living. I want a chance to be normal; the only place I can even remotely feel that is when I’m with you.” Her chest never stopped shaking, fighting back the gasps and sobs as she tried to hold her shoulders still, fighting the natural urge for her body to convulse, “I want out and I need your help. I need the NYPD’s help to get out, I need to finish this.”

She finally found the strength to meet his eyes, except this time they weren’t on her. They were glued to the coffee table, no emotion other than hurt being read across his face. Eloise knew she had hurt him; knew she had betrayed him. It was exactly what she had dreaded. Although the hurt in his face pained her to see, she couldn’t help but notice how his reaction was definitely more mellow than what she was expecting. There were no cuffs so far.

“Even if you hate me, and I don’t blame you if you do, I’m asking for just one favour. Please help me finish them.”

“Them?” Calum’s voice sounded surprised at her choice of word, his eyebrows furrowing as he turned his head and met her gaze, not ready himself to see the pain and sadness spread across her own face.

All she could was nod, rubbing her face with her hands as she wiped her dried tears, praying that no more would fall.

“Things have gone too far this time… I’ve seen a lot throughout the years; bodies, bullets, blood, I’ve seen it all. But what I saw the other night, I never want to see anything like that again,” Eloise took a deep breath, her free hand brushing her hair out of her face as she looked down at her sock-clad feet, “We went to collect some money for a job a few nights ago; the job was done a few months previous but we still hadn’t been paid. So, Jay went in to pay them a visit and we waited outside. Next thing – there’s a gunshot, we run inside and there he is: sixteen-year-old kid lying on the floor with a bullet in his chest,” Her hands shook at the thought of that night, “Jay didn’t even flinch; he only cared about the money he was owed. He claimed the kid got in his face, was threatening him and he had to shut him up.”

She swore she could see Jay’s dull, unbothered expression when she closed her eyes, it being something that never failed to make her stomach churn.

“We have rules for a reason; every gang in New York follows them for reasons like this: 1. You keep to your own territory; business stays within your grounds under all circumstances, 2. All hideouts are out of bounds for challenges or raids, and finally, 3. Kids are off limits, regardless of who they may be linked to.” She recited the rules that had been drilled into her life since she could remember, them becoming strict guidelines for how business was run, or at least they used to be before certain individuals began to bend them. “It’s a shared agreement that any broken rules result in punishment, and that’s decided by whoever is the one brave enough to make you pay. Jay shot a fucking kid, so now they’re all gonna be comin’ after him. And the rest of us.”

“Go to the police then.” Calum muttered, his voice monotone as he couldn’t bring himself to hold his stare with the girl who had lied to him for so long.

As much as he knew the pain that he was in was overwhelming, he couldn’t deny that the pain she was in only made his worse. He was angry but that didn’t stop him from feeling the way he did about her; it never lessened the way his heart melted at the sight of her eyes. Maybe she was being sincere, maybe she really was telling the truth. Why else would she willing to give them up simply because she felt guilty? Wasn’t she conditioned to be tougher than that?

“I’m here, aren’t I?” She sighed, never taking her eyes off of him as she tried to meet his gaze, needing to look into his eyes, she needed to see him, “I’ve had enough of being tied to someone who thinks they can play but their own rules, someone who thinks they can control whoever and whatever they want by fear and power. I’m done with them. I’m serious, Calum, I want out.”

He seemed to sit straight for the first time that evening, Eloise noting the tension in his shoulders seeming to loosen slightly but a great deal still remained. It was a small yet hopeful indication that he was listening to her, taking in what she was trying to say. She knew it hurt him, but she prayed he would listen, even for only a few minutes before he made his decision.

“I hope you realise that you’re not going to make it out, El, if the NYPD are in on in this and they come after the Gypsy Kings, they aren’t going to listen to you when you say ‘I want out’. They’ll take you down with the rest of them and you’ll go to prison. No question about it,” Calum sighed, his logical side talking, “If you do this, then you’re signing your remaining days as a free woman away. The only place you’ll ever know will be the four walls of a cell.”

“And that’ll be worth every second when I get to watch Jay break,” Her voice sounded cold, unforgiving – almost familiar – as she spat the words out, “If I have to spend the rest of my life in a cold cell in order know that no more innocent lives will die at the hands of the Gypsy Kings then that’s a consequence I’m happy to suffer. The Kings were more than just a power-hungry society once upon a time, but now they’re unrecognisable other than for the misery that they cause.”

“So, you’re really going to do this? You’re going to betray your friends, and for what – because you feel guilty?”

“I’m doing this because it’s the right choice. I’ve hurt too many people and I’m not ready to hurt any more. You’re the last person I ever wanted to hurt, and now I’m done. I can only apologise so much, Calum. But I promise you that I’ve seen it all, and I’m tired of it. I’m ready to finish this, and whether you help me or not, I’m ending this once and for all.” Eloise knew she wasn’t making much sense, her words spilling out of her at a million miles an hour as she tried to convey as much sincerity as she could muster.

“You’ll become a walking target,” Calum sighed, biting the inside of his cheek as he watched the broken girl in front of him, “The minute you do this, all eyes will be on you, especially once you’re inside. You’ll be basically signing your own death warrant.”

“And I’m okay with that. I’ve been a walking target since the day I was born, Calum, nothing has and nothing will change about that,” Eloise released a breath she didn’t even feel she was holding, the deep exhale audible in the silent room, “My dad practically painted it on himself, it came with the territory of being a Gypsy King’s daughter.”

Calum’s eyes seemed to soften at the mention of Eloise’s father, his knowledge of the man only saddening him more, but more for her than him, knowing that she was most probably still in pain after all those years.

“Ever since I was a kid, I would always hear the same familiar sentence more or less being said between my dad and his friends. They would always say there was a message behind every raid, every act of revenge, every piece of work they took on. It’s about taking something that they love, watching them crumble, and striking when they’re weak.”

The sentence was enough to send her back to the two occasions when her life changed forever. It was enough of an ignition to send her right back to the days when that something was taken from her.

“And that’s exactly what happened to me…”

Her Mum always said he was working; always said he would be late home and that he was sorry. Eloise had grown used to it, used to the excuses, and used the rare times when she would see her dad for more than a few hours at the end of the night if she were lucky.

They would always argue in the kitchen when they thought their daughter was fast asleep in bed. But she would sit on the landing and listen to how her mum screamed at how she wanted them to stay away from her house, how she wanted them to stay away from Eloise. Her mum fought so hard to keep Eloise separated from the gang that her dad ran with and she never knew why. Her mum let her hatred for the Gypsy King’s damage her relationship with her dad, allowing for cracks in the foundations to be made, and instead of fixing them, they only let them deepen.

Her sixth birthday was a distance but prominent memory in her mind. She remembered when the group of strangers walked into her house, how her dad smiled and welcomed them with open arms meanwhile her mother remained in the kitchen, keeping a distance between herself and the group that attended the party. She could still see the look of disgust on her mum’s face, the way her nose would scrunch ever so slightly, how her brows sunk, and how she just never smiled if they were around. She remembered how her mother didn’t leave the kitchen for the entire party; only coming out for when she blew her birthday candles out and when it was time for her to go to bed. God, her mum really hated them that much.

The argument her parents had that night was one that troubled her for a while, hating knowing that she was the topic of the argument. They screamed at each other about how it was unfair to make Eloise believe that they were her family when they were “nothing but selfish and violent criminals”.

God, she used to so naïve to what ‘gang’ meant, thinking they only ever existed in TV shows or stories but, boy, was she wrong. She believed at one point that they were good people; Gang Bangers, how they were people looking for a purpose, for somewhere to belong. She never knew just how cold-hearted they could be until one day they tore her life apart for the first time.

She remembered the day like it was yesterday, the day being one that she’d never forget, much like another date that no matter how many times she tried, she could never erase the memories.

Being eleven was a fun age was Eloise; she enjoyed school, had friends, she loved her life. But that before that day.

The kitchen smelt so good; her mum was baking but she couldn’t remember what exactly. She was pretty sure it was brownies or something similar. She was sat at the kitchen table; a million questions being fired at her mum about a book she had been reading for school for a project she was working on. She was hopeless when it came to science – that never changed.

There was a loud continuous bang at the door, she remembered it sounding like a hammer but heavier. It was so loud! Her mum froze briefly before ushering Eloise out of the kitchen, pushing her into a cupboard beneath the stairs, telling her to keep quiet. She couldn’t remember why it was suddenly happening. She was scared. She remembered her mother whispering, “Stay in here, keep quiet, and don’t come out until I tell you to.” Next thing she remembered was being enveloped in complete darkness, the cupboard door slamming shut before hearing faint footsteps, assuming it was her mum going towards the door.

She remembered a bang, a loud crash followed by the sound of something smashing against the floor. She thought it was vase or something, maybe a photo frame. Multiple footsteps were rattling along the floor, too many voices talking at once as she tried to focus on keeping quiet like she had been told to be.

The sound of two foreign accents were filling the muffled space; they sounded Hispanic. The sound of her mother’s voice shouted numerous times, “I don’t know where he is” “You’ve got to believe me, I don’t know where he’s hiding”. She remembered a loud scream, another crash but louder this time, before an almighty bang: a gunshot. She remembered her body tensing, her hands covering her mouth as she tried to hold in her scream at the sudden sound, her whole body shaking at the event.

It was quiet for a few more minutes before the footsteps got louder then quieter as they left, “Never should have messed with the Los Zetas” being heard as they left the house. She was left in silence, the intruders were gone, and she was left to wait for her mum to come and tell her to come out.

She couldn’t remember how long she was sat in the cupboard, feeling as though it was hours. She didn’t want to come out because she had been told to sit and wait, but she was cold and uncomfortable in the cupboard, and there hadn’t been any noise since the bang so she decided to ignore her mother’s words and she left the cupboard.

There was dirt on the floor, a trail of it leading from the front door into the kitchen. She called out for her mum, waiting to hear a response as she followed the dirt trail, almost curious to see where they had been and what they had wanted, her hands were visibly shaking.

The sight of what she saw in the kitchen was something no eleven-year-old should ever have to see. She remembered the sight of the cold body that lay on the kitchen floor; a sight that would never leave her. She remembered the white dressing gown her mother wore was thrown open, and the collar of her top was creased as if she had been grabbed with a harsh grip, but her eyes were drawn the crimson colour that dripped out of the clean bullet hole that was carved into the side of her mother’s head. It stained the dressing gown; her mother loved that dressing gown.

She didn’t cry at first, she wasn’t sure, but she remembered how she just stood there and stared for a few seconds. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do. Did she cry? Scream? Run?

The next thing she recalled was that she was calling 911, having grabbed the landline from the hallway. She remembered talking to a man and telling a complete stranger how her mum was dead in her kitchen and she had hidden while it happened.

“The next thing I knew, my dad was home, I was taken to the hospital and checked out to make sure that I was okay,” Eloise spoke, her voice hoarse as she looked ahead at the blank TV screen, “How was I supposed to okay after finding my mum like that? How’s anyone supposed to be okay after something like that?”

Eloise thought she was done with crying, or at least that’s what she had hoped, until she felt the familiar touch of Calum’s hand against her cheek, his thumb wiping a tear away yet again that she hadn’t realised she had shed until he cleared it. She felt as though she had cried all the tears she could when it came to the day her mother died, but it turned out there would never be a number on the amount of times you would grieve for your parents.

Calum couldn’t hide the hurt in his face, the feeling only worsening from before because it was Eloise who was hurting. Maybe he needed to push himself aside and realise that his feelings of how much he cared for the brunette in his home were stronger than the ones of anger and betrayal he felt at the same time, maybe he needed to push them aside and realise that she was trying to change.

He tried to find some words he could say to her, some form of appreciation for her talking to him about such a traumatic experience, but how did he do that? How did he thank her for something like that? Maybe silence was a better option in that case.

Calum noted how she didn’t break eye contact with the TV screen, using it as a focal point as she spoke, opening up about a time that troubled her; anyone could see that. It seemed to be something she needed, something that she didn’t even know she needed. And Calum was more than willing to be the small audience she spoke to in order to get it out in the open and out of her head if necessary.

Eloise took a deep breath; one that allowed her to fill the full expanse of her stomach before she released it, swallowing in the hope of adding some form of moisture to her dry throat as she fought to continue. Once she had started, she needed to finish, she needed to say it all.

“I was robbed again by a New York gang when I was fifteen,” She began, her lips rolling together briefly, “Just when I thought I was coming to terms with the first time something was taken from me, it happened again… It was on her birthday…”

Natalia would have been 38. Eloise counted the age every year, wrote out the date every year on whatever calendar she had been given for Christmas the year before.

She had decided to make a stupid cake, having decided that they would actually celebrate her mother’s birthday that year instead of hiding away and ignoring the day that was previously celebrated with colour and life. Then she burned the cake and ended up setting off the smoke alarms which resulted in her and her dad laughing at their attempts to get the loud machine to stop beeping. It was the last time she had heard him laugh, as in genuinely.

Her dad gave her some money, cleaning up the dirty baking trays and disposing of the burnt cake, and told her to go to the local corner shop that was a few streets over and buy a tray of those cheap chocolate muffins that they sold. They were a favourite within the household; her mum usually bought them as treats for special occasions.

She remembered asking if he wanted anything else while she was out, and he responded, “I just wanna see you smile again.” She could smell the whiskey on his breath, remembering how he didn’t think she had saw him pour some into his morning coffee.

He turned to drink often than not once her mum had gone. He seemed to find a lot comfort in it, using it as a mask to hide the pain he felt when all it did was make it worse for him.

The last thing he said to her when she was leaving the house that day never left her, the smile on his face genuine and sympathetic – but she didn’t see that – as he looked at fifteen-year-old Eloise and said, “Y’know I love you right, Eloise. More than you’ll ever know.”

She brushed it off at the time, rolling her eyes as she laughed at him and returned, “Uh huh dad, ‘nd I love you too.”

When she closed that door, she didn’t know that was going to be the last time she saw him with a smile on his face. She didn’t know that was going to be the last time she saw him at all.

She remembered when she came home and saw that the curtains were drawn; they weren’t before. She figured her dad had just passed out, it not being a sight that surprised her since her mum.

She went straight into the kitchen, not even making note of the living door being closed, being completely blind to it as she discarded of the bag on the table as emptied the contents. She had bought a bag of salted peanuts, remembering how much her dad used to love them. She hid them in the treat cupboard – a tradition they kept around from her mum – for him to go and find when he’d be feeling peckish. She remembered shouting through the house that she had bought double chocolate muffins instead because they sounded better. God, and they were! They were rare purchases but so worth it!

She remembered how she was laughing as she walked through the house, completely unaware to what had happened. She suddenly noticed the silence; how eerie the house suddenly felt around her. She couldn’t hear her dad at all, but she could faintly hear voices coming from the living room. They sounded as if they were yelling, excitement building as the muffled words they spoke got faster and more rushed as each second passed.

Opening the door felt like it took forever, spotting the stereo that sat opposite the door was turned on, the voices coming from the speakers. She assumed it was horse racing, a pointless sport that her dad enjoyed every so often. They had a tradition where every race, Eloise would pick the horse her dad would bet on, claiming that she was lucky and if she picked then he would win. Nine times out of ten it never resulted in a win, but that never stopped her dad from telling Eloise that he won big because of his lucky charm.

It was memories like that that made the pain of what she saw that day all the more intense. She spotted the limp body on the couch, his head lopping to the side as he sat slouched against the arm of the fabricated piece of furniture. She couldn’t remember how she felt, she thought it was shock and then sad, but it was blur. She couldn’t remember if it felt worse than when she found her mum or if it felt the same.

What she did remember was the gun attached to his hand, finger resting limply over the trigger. She remembered the two framed photographs that stood on the coffee table as if they had watched the whole thing take place. She could remember her hands were physically shaking as she reached out to touch him, pushing on his arm as if he would wake up and say it was all a joke. She remembered the panic beginning to sink in as she pieced together what happened, how she didn’t have to see the bullet wound to know what he did.

The photographs stood out to her, playing as a reminder to what they had seen; to what had happened. One was of a young couple, her mind replaying her the story her mother had told her about the photograph and when it was taken. It was of a date her dad had taken her mum out on for the 4th of July, they ended up finding a photobooth to commemorate the date. 

She remembered the other photograph painfully, it being a reminder of a time she preferred not to think about. The peach coloured blouse her mother wore in the photograph stood out, the top holding so many memories that she didn’t realise she had at such a young age. She remembered the golden locket that hung from her mother’s neck, the photograph inside being something she treasured with her life. She could see the small infant in her mother’s arms within the photograph, heart aching at the memory of being so young that she couldn’t remember that photo being taken. 

It was a reminder to Eloise that she had already lost one parent, and now she had lost the only one she had left.

Brown eyes met brown as Eloise broke her stare from the TV, her body was tired, and her emotions were a mess. She didn’t understand how she could carry on talking but she did, unsure of what Calum would say or do next. She was sure he was still angry; she didn’t expect a sob story to change that.

“The gangs of New York City have already taken everything from me, so, I think it’s about time that I take something from them.” Her voice surprised her as she spoke, her tone strong and words carrying intent as she watched the police officer next to her match her glossy eyes with his own shining ones.

He looked ready to cry; close to breaking into tears at the telling of Eloise’s hardships. But that wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t want him to cry for her. She wanted him to help her, to help her break those who broke her.

“Like I said, Calum, I’m taking Jay down whether you help me or not, all that I’m askin’ you is that you do what you think is right,” She sighed as she searched for a silent answer, wanting to know sooner rather than later if she was on her own or not. 

She had been on her own for a long time, knowing how to handle it; how to handle people but this was different. She didn’t know how to handle Jay, having always just remained by the side-lines during his outbursts of violence, playing ignorant to the destruction he caused because she didn’t know how else to handle it.

Calum sat in silence, watching how Eloise searched for an answer within him. She looked desperate, as if she were ready to scream. Maybe she was serious – of course she was. She had openly just told the story of how she found her both her parents dead in her family home on two separate occasions. Why else would she share something like that – a horrifying, gut-wrenching memory that haunted her to a man she knew could destroy her life if he really wanted to?

Because deep down, she knew that he wouldn’t. That he couldn’t.

Calum couldn’t ignore the logical half of his brain that was working; telling him that this would be a ground-breaking arrest within the NYPD. It was what they wanted, it was what Lieutenant White wanted – the Gypsy Kings to be broken and ruined. He could do that; he had that opportunity right in the palm of his hands. But why did that feel so wrong? Why did doing the right thing – abiding by the law – feel like the wrong thing for Calum to do? Why did he feel like fulfilling his Lieutenant’s wishes would only lead him to a dead end; where he would be met with the sad face of the girl who he thinks about all the time, the broken heart of someone who confided in him? Because he knew that’s exactly what would happen.

He had to help. He knew he did.

“I’ve been wearing blinkers for so long, ignoring what goes on in the city. I always followed orders and instructions because I had no control, because I just wanted to feel a part of something like my dad did, and I regret every second of it; every bullet, every fight, every stupid deal,” Her sigh was full of disappointment for herself, her hand rubbing her face as she let out a soft grumble of incoherent words as she rested it on her forehead, “I know what this means for the city, what it means for the Gypsy Kings, and what it means for me. But I don’t care anymore, Cal, because all I want to do is do something right for once.”

Her brown eyes still desperately searched for an answer, as if expecting him to be able to make a choice then and there over what he was going to do. She would be ready to leave if he asked to her, but something inside her begged for that not to be case. As much as she wanted his help; she knew she wanted him more. She still cared about him, more than she even knew. And he was the same, even though the smell of betrayal was still fresh in the room, it was overpowered by the way his heart soared for the broken, teary-eyed brunette in front of him.

The human side he normally ignored was working overdrive – something he wasn’t sure if he were grateful for, or if he hated the fact that she caused it – as he sat there and contemplated what could happen. If he helped her, then he would lose her. And if he didn’t help her, then he would also lose her. It was a no-win situation for Calum, but something still urged him, as if someone were pulling the strings and had him under a spell to convince him to do something he could only imagine doing. And yet he found himself falling victim to the puppet-master.

“I’ll help you,”

His words took a moment to register in Eloise’s mind, her eyes suddenly widening as her eyebrows raised and face froze as she looked at the man in question, “You will?” She couldn’t quite believe he was going to do it.

“Yeah, I’ll do it,” Calum’s soft brown curls shook a little as he nodded, Eloise having to fight the urge to run her hand through them like she had done before, “I’ll do it for you, El. Now, how do you want to handle this?”

It was as if something changed in that moment between them, it was if something were lowering a bridge and the view in front of Calum was clearer; he could see exactly what was in front of him. She was trusting him, and she didn’t know if she was stupid or out of her mind for doing that. But something spoke to her, telling her that it was okay, that he wouldn’t be the one to hurt her this time.

He was giving her the power over the situation, something she hadn’t truly been given before. Yes, Han had said she was in control over the scheme with Calum but that didn’t ring true. At the end of the day, someone else was still pulling Eloise’s strings all for their own gain. But this time, she in the drivers’ seat; controlling exactly what happened and when.

Eloise racked her brain for a plan, some way to lead the Gypsy Kings into false security before she could have the opportunity break them when they were weak – when they least expected it. She needed the opportunity to fall into her hands, it wasn’t like she could hija-

“Does the name ‘The Corporation’ mean anything to you?” Eloise leaned forward suddenly in her seat, blueprints of a plan suddenly beginning to map themselves out in her mind. The shipment. She could see on Calum’s face that he knew who she was talking about, the name being one that everyone in world knew – it didn’t matter if you were a cop, gangster, or even an innocent bystander – a name that carried such dark intentions; a Cuban Cartel gang – one of the most notorious gangs in Cuba. They never showed their faces very often but that was until a deal was to be made. “They started bringing storage crates into the city, using abandoned boat yards to conduct deals with American gangs. The crates are full of almost everything that they shouldn’t be; narcotics, black market weapons, and god knows what else. They’d set up a buy with an arranged gang and bring the shipment over to conduct the deal, a price would already be set before the deal was even agreed.”

“How much typically for a crate?” His voice sounded stronger than before, the irritation now gone, with curiosity and intent now being present.

“It depends on what they’re giving you. I’m pretty sure it varies from $5k to $50k. There was a shipment that was rumoured to be coming into New York a few weeks back, it was the Ryders’ deal that they conducted with Corp. I don’t know that much about it but I know it fell through,” Eloise absentmindedly fiddled with the loose thread on Calum’s couch she had spotted before, twirling it in between her fingers, being careful not to pull it out, “But what I do know is that when the deal fell through, the cops had caught them when they were on their way there, arrested a group of their boys there and then. Corporation heard about it, cleared out, and fled the scene before the police had a chance to get them- “

“Yeah I know exactly what you’re talkin’ about,” Calum interrupted her with a sigh, rubbing his eye with the corner of his palm, letting out a short huff, “I was on the squad that caught them, bastards thought they were sly ‘nd tried to outrun us but we caught up to them.”

It didn’t surprise Eloise at the hint of pride in his voice when he spoke about the cockiness of the rival gang. She knew that the cops had been chasing them for a while, understanding the sense of relief they must have felt when they finally caught them. She couldn’t deny the warmth that spread within her, as if his pride made her proud. She was proud of him?

“We’ve heard word that The Corporation are coming back to New York, desperate to sell the crate from the busted deal. They had to find new buyers since the Ryders are were out of action, it was up for grabs. And once Jay heard word, he submitted himself and the rest of the gang to become the new buyers,” Eloise couldn’t help the furrow in her brow, sighing as she thought about where she sat, the effects of her actions taking their toll as she thought about Scott. How would she ever be able to look him in the eye again? What would happen to him? Eloise knew she had to follow through, she knew that too much damage had been done to go back now. “They want $35k for the lot, apparently Jay had overheard that the contents of the crate were worth a profit of five times the buying price. Anyone with a half a brain would see that was flawed – why would they sell product for such a lesser price if it could make them a profit of over $175,000?”

She swore she could feel her heart rattling in her chest, her breath shaking as she felt an overwhelming wave of panic set upon her much like it had that day when she walked into the living room of her family home. What was she doing? Am I doing the right thing? She kept asking herself that same question.

“Jay plans to ransack the whole shipment, he wants to steal it from right under their noses. He’s treating it as some sort of power-move, he thinks if he can take such a large amount from a society that’s ten times as powerful as he is, then use it to control the city. He wants to be feared by everyone and he thinks this is how he can achieve that,” She was angry, her gut wrenching in disappointment at the people she once called her friends, her family. How could she have been so blind to see what was right in front of her the entire time? “It’s happening in the abandoned Navy Yard just west of Williamsburg in just less than three weeks. They weren’t stupid enough to think the cops wouldn’t end up hearing about how the Corp were coming back, it definitely not being long before they heard that we were the ones who were the next group of morons to fall victim to a poorly scheduled buy, so a plan was made to counteract.”

She pursed her lips to the side, her teeth working against the inside of her cheek as she looked up at Calum’s precious face. He didn’t look hurt anymore, she noted. He looked… She wasn’t sure. He was unreadable, but she could feel that he wasn’t mad anymore. His eyelashes flushed against his cheeks with every blink, his chest rising and falling with every gentle breath he took. He looked calm, ready to listen.

“And that’s what brought me here. It’s what brought me to the café that morning, how I knew you would be there, what brought me to your house that night… It’s what brought me into your arms, but it didn’t work like it supposed to. I was supposed to be able to walk away, and now I can’t. I can’t tear myself away from you and for so long, I couldn’t understand what it was about you that made me feel like I couldn’t quit,” Eloise couldn’t stop her face from scrunching, her teeth nipping her tongue accidently as she fought over her words, “And I’ve never felt like this. I’ve always been afraid of getting hurt, and to stop that from happening I’ve blocked people out but there’s been something about you that I can’t push away, and that scares me.”

The tears were flowing again before she had a chance to stop them, her voice cracking and shaking as much as her heart was pounding, her vision blurring as she tried to get her words out. Eloise noticed how Calum’s hands twitched, as if they were fighting the urge to reach up and wipe her tears away. She wanted to let him, but he wasn’t letting himself.

“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore… I had a plan and honestly, I was prepared to go ahead with it and do what they wanted me to, but then you kept being so kind, so genuine, so… you. And it changed everything. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, I couldn’t stop wanting to see you again and I craved the way my chest tightened when I spent time with you. You treated me so good when you hardly knew me, and I repaid you by taking your heart on a joyride and before I knew- “ Her voice broke as a sob threatened to break through, her nails creating crescent shaped indents in her palms as she squeezed her fists together.

“El- “

“Before I knew it, I realised the only heart that I was taking on a joyride was my own,” Eloise finally let the desperate sob out, the sound hurting her chest as she could barely make out the sight in front of her due to the clouded tears, the sting being ignored over the pain in her torso. She was saying so much that she couldn’t remember what she had and hadn’t already said. All she knew was that she wanted to get everything out, she was this deep already so why not just do more damage. “And what scares me the most is that I don’t know if I hate myself for it or not, I can’t decide if I hate the way this feels; to be so enticed by someone that all I want to do is be with them. And I’m sorry, Calum, I’m so sorry for everything. I played a game that I didn’t know the rules for and now I’ve screwed myself over and I’ve hurt you…”

Eloise let her eyes close, a further flood of tears cascading down her flushed cheeks as she fought to keep the sobs at bay. She didn’t want sympathy from him, she wasn’t sure if what she wanted was forgiveness. Eloise didn’t know what she wanted. All she knew, was that the look Calum gave her when she first admitted to the ploy was a look she never wanted to see again. The hurt in his eyes was an unbearable pain she couldn’t face.

The room was eerie, the silence almost deafening as it swallowed the tension between the two in the large room. She craved for him to speak, for him to say something. She frankly didn’t care what or how he said it, she just needed him to say something.

“You were only doing what you thought to be right,” A voice cut through the silence, “And as much as it hurts to know that none of this was what you initially wanted, there’s something undeniably warming in knowing that now it is and that you feel it too…” He had shifted his weight, knee knocking against hers on the edge of the couch as he sat in front of her, centimetres between them. The feeling of her soft damp skin beneath his hand as he cupped her cheek ignited a fire within him that he thought would have burnt out, the sight of her glossy dark eyes laced with nothing but regret and apologies causing a roll of his lips as he let out a shallow breath. “You’re not the only one who’s scared, y’know, El, I’m terrified. No one is supposed to feel like their heart is running a marathon inside their chest at the sight of someone. I’m not supposed to feel as though my home is empty unless you’re here, but I can’t help but feel as though that I am empty unless you’re with me.”

“Why’re you so good with words?” She couldn’t stop the pathetic excuse of a laugh she released, sighing as she leaned into his touch, it being something she never wanted to leave, “You talk to me as if I’m a piece of glass, scared that if you talk with anything other than softness in your voice then I’ll shatter in place. I’m so used to angry words, aggressive voices, and fearful eyes that an act of kindness is something I’ve grown to forget. I’ve forgotten what it feels like to have a kind heart.”

“Then let me be your reminder, Eloise.” His voice was a whisper, small and soft, it barely being heard over the static white noise as he closed the distance between them. His hand on her cheek gently coaxed her face to his as their lips connected in a sweet embrace.

It was different than the other kisses they had shared. She briefly remembered feeling the same way about their last kiss but this one was nothing like the last. It wasn’t built from a sexual tension that sat between them the entire night. This came from an admission; a moment of allowing their true feelings to breathe in each other’s company.

Eloise’s breath caught in her throat as her hand found the side of his neck, her sweaty palm resting against the warm skin as she let herself get lost in the tangle of soft lips and slow movements. It was everything she wanted, and still it didn’t feel like it lasted for long enough.

“Nothing has changed,” He whispered as their lips parted briefly, his forehead resting against hers, lips brushing against each other’s with every word he spoke, his eyes merely closed while he trusted his voice to speak the thousand thoughts running riot in his head, “It hurts that your intentions were never for it to get to this, not really, and I don’t know why I fell so quickly for you, it’s like you had a hold on me and I couldn’t escape it. Eloise, I still want to know you if you’ll let me, and I hope you want to know me too, because over the past few days, I feel like I’ve slowly seen a bit more of who you really are every time you smile, every time you laugh, every time you say my name…”

Brown met brown as they allowed for their eyes to open and meet in a soft gaze, both shining in the dim glow of the overhead light. Eloise felt as though she was drowning, her chest tight as she felt the walls around her close in. But she wasn’t scared, she embraced the intense shift and took a long hard breath, her eyes staring into his own, finding the familiar specs of gold she had grown to find comfort in.

She had to ask a question that burned in the back of her mind, having to fight against the rush of pure ecstasy she was feeling as she sat with only millimetres of distance between her and the familiar man who she was dying to kiss again.

“But what if this is just setting ourselves up for heartbreak?” The question left her lips with a dry hoarse of her throat, knowing it’s one she had asked herself a million times in the matter of days from where she confessed to Paige how she felt to where she sat now, “What if you let yourself get so lost and wrapped up in a world that’s out of your depth that you’re left at the edge, having to stand and watch as it crumbles around you? You’re only letting yourself become a victim of a pain that’ll never truly heal…” She swallowed a growing lump as she spoke, his spare hand holding hers, the pad of his thumb gently gliding across the back of her smooth skin, the metal of their rings scratching delicately as they collided, “Are you really willing to risk all that pain for a stranger?”

Calum pushed his tongue against his bottom teeth, a heavy sigh being exhaled through his nose as his eyes found their hands that sat connected between the two of them. How did he find himself here? How did he get himself so wrapped up in a girl who a month ago he didn’t even know existed? How did he get himself so helplessly head over heels for a girl who was everything he didn’t know he needed?

Of course, he knew the risk that came with the two of them agreeing to embrace what they felt. He knew the many directions their lives could take; not many of them having good outcomes. But did that stop him from doubting the adrenaline he knew he wouldn’t feel anywhere else? No. It only fuelled his desire for her further, the flame in his stomach erupting into a fully-fledged bonfire as he looked at the brunette who sat on his couch. God, he was crazy, but he was crazy for her.

And she was the same.

He felt his eyelashes brush against his cheeks as he found her eyes once again, the different shades of the same dark colour swirling around in a perfect concoction; a whirlpool he could sit and watch for hours. The ends of his plump lips turned up ever so slightly as he leaned in yet again, their lips slanting together like two puzzle pieces that wouldn’t fit with anything else other than one another. Calum couldn’t ignore the buzz he felt when he kissed her, as if it were all he wanted to do, all he was meant to do. Both his hands finding her face as he cupped the delicate skin, keeping her close as he let their tongues dance in a sinful act.

He hesitated before placing a final soft kiss on her lips before he parted from her, foreheads instinctively being pressed together as he let out a confident breath, a single chaste kiss being snuck between them as their lips separated, eliciting a small giggle from Eloise.

In that moment Calum knew that he was sure of his decision. He had never been surer of something before, his heart soaring as he thought of the connection they shared; how painfully right it felt. His nose brushed against hers, a simple yet effective gesture which sent a thousand butterflies to her stomach as she yearned to feel his lips against hers once more, to feel how perfect they fitted against her pink ones.

“I’m willing if you are,” He let the words fill the peaceful silence, his voice as smooth as velvet as it filled her ears, her body feeling as though it was floating as he held her. The words he spoke filled a hole in Eloise that she hadn’t even felt was void. She felt as if she was mending, as if Calum were fixing her.

Eloise could feel two weights fall on her shoulders, wishing they were Calum’s hands, but she knew they were anything but. She heard the arguments of the devil and angel who had perched themselves on her shoulder yet again, as if they were trying to convince her and dismiss her of the decision, trying to regain the control she seemed to have grasped for a moment. It was an obstacle she was yet to overcome: her mind. But she knew she had finally found a place to start. It would be a process; a hard one. But she would get there in the end, and with Calum by her side, she could only imagine how great it would be to be finally free, even if she weren’t physically.

The consequences of her actions played on her mind, the thought of prison or death being the two prime outcomes of this decision she had to make. She knew her time was limited, but she willing to accept that fact for the new cause she had found. It was her heart going to war with her head, her head screaming at her to run and return to the shadows, meanwhile her heart encouraged her to embrace the warmth that sparked from this connection she felt, to embrace the adrenaline that rushed through her at the sight of Calum’s smile, to embrace the satisfaction of knowing she would be doing the right thing in ending the Gypsy Kings’ story before it could even fully begin.

Eloise knew the choice she had to make. She knew the right one was there as it stared right back at her, brown eyes searching hers as a comforting smile made her feel safe. She knew what she had to do.

Her decision was confirmed by the smile that spread along her lips; the genuine smile, as she rested a small hand against Calum’s golden skin, the light prickle of stubble tickling her palm, her thumb sliding across his bottom lip as if it were silk, something she never thought she would be lucky enough to touch once again. It felt as though she could breathe for the first time that evening, the sight of Calum only encouraging her to continue.

“Okay then,” She let the words slip past her lips, her smile never faltering as she leaned in and connected them in an affirming kiss, one that sealed and confirmed everything the two of them had shared of their feelings.

Eloise could feel his tongue dancing along hers, his hands grasping her as much as he could as if he were trying to never let go. The buzz hummed throughout her entire body, her eyes closing as they shared the ardent kiss. Stars were dancing wildly behind her eyes, in her stomach, and throughout her entire body as she lived in that moment.

She couldn’t play blind any longer to how she felt, knowing that her feelings were out in the open and they were returned. For the first time in a long time, Eloise felt as though she had finally regained something, as though she had gained back control. She had already lost so much but now she had gained something; she had gained someone. And she couldn’t ignore the excitement at the thought of him, the safety he gave her, or the pure rush of gratitude she felt towards the universe for making them both be in the same club on the night of her birthday.

It felt as though everything was going to be okay, that it would turn out alright, just like she had told Paige a few days ago. Of course, it was too soon to say, and no one could predict what was around the corner, but in that very moment there was nothing to think about other than how perfect they felt in one another’s arms. It was utterly perfect. 

Utterly and completely.

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