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1104-am · 11 months

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karina | sorry, i love you.

genre ; fluff , angst

pairing ; student!karina X student!gnreader

note ; inspired by stray kids’ sorry, i love you. recommend reading while listening to the song!sorry if there are any typos, enjoyy <3

word count ; 3k+

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“jimin is here”

and with only three words coming from minjeong, your body starts tensing up, you immediately started paying attention to your appearance, as a reaction to those three words.

you and karina have been friends ever since the both of you were in diapers. you were there when she first scratched her knees at the playground, and she was there when your first tooth fell out.

your parents are best friends with hers, which immediately molded the both of you into one too. you would go everywhere with karina by your side, you would feel as if you’re naked if she wasn’t by your side with you.

all is well between the both of you, until one day. it was another typical school day, just like the other monday tuesday wednesday thursday and fridays.

you were chilling in the classroom as the other students swarm the cafeteria. you had lose your focus on your homework, and were playing some stupid advertisement trial games when you suddenly felt a poke on your right cheek.

the moment you turn around, you locked eyes with karina. and for the first time ever after all those years, you felt your cheek heat up and your heart swelling up upon seeing how pretty she was that day.

“what?” she spoke

she looked— so, pretty. she drew her eyeliner that day. her cheeks were dabbed with some rose coloured blusher and her hair was wavy. the smell of her perfume hypnotized you, along with how her eyes were looking at yours.

“going somewhere?” you pulled her chair out, the swoosh of her scent when she sat down entered your nose and you felt awkward around her for the first time ever.

“uhmm no, just felt like dressing up a little today. why? you bringing me somewhere?” her eyes sparkled as she looked at you. and you hated how you couldn’t look at her in the eyes at all that day.

days passed, seasons changed and without realizing, it have been almost a year since you realize how you truly feel about your best friend.

ever since that day, every day was a torture to you. everytime karina held onto your arm while walking, you would feel like you have a chance with her or maybe she’s hinting you something. when actually the both of you had done that a long time ago, and that it’s actually nothing.

when she invites you to have dinner with her family, you start smiling to yourself in your room. when she calls you in the middle of the night when she can’t sleep, the thought of you and her becoming a thing keeps on growing.

when she fixes your messy hair, when she sends you a flying kiss emoji, when she was the first one to wish you happy birthday, when she bought you a cute kuromi bandage, when she fell asleep on your shoulder in the train, when she smiled at you so brightly, everything leads to you thinking you have a chance with her. and maybe, just maybe, you actually do.

to keep your feelings hidden was hard, especially when your friends are her friends too. winter to be exact. aside from karina, winter was one of you childhood friend. whatever you’re thinking about, she knows it the moment she looks at your face. and that is how she found out about your feelings for karina.

winter saw how you were smiling to yourself when texting her in between class breaks. but knowing winter, she would never snitch on you.

the sound of books being placed on your desk snapped you out of your daydream. karina was standing in front of you, her hair was half tied. she took your breath away, yet again. you really like how feminine she look with that hairstyle.

“let’s go?”

right, you had invited her to have tteokbokki with you after school the other day, as a celebration to finally submitting one of the hardest school project you both were struggling with.

“yeah, let’s go” you said, mouth dry as you cleared your throat. you offered to carry her bag which karina gladly accepted. as the both of you exits the classroom, you turn to look at winter who mouthed a ‘fighting’ to you.

you nodded, and shifted your attention to karina who was walking next to you. the moment you looked at her, she already has her eyes on you. with a suspicious look on her face.

“what was that with minjeong?” she asks which caught you off guard.

“what was what?” you played your cool and ignored her eyes that are looking for yours. the cold wind hit the both of you the moment you stepped out of the building. karina shivered slightly making you burst into a small chuckle.

“you know y/n” she spoke

“hm?” you turn to look at the owner of small figure next to you.

“we’ve been friends for like.. what? 17 years? aren’t you tired of me” she asks in a joking manner.

“hell yes” you replied. as she hit you on the shoulder. a small wine escaped her mouth

“no but like seriously. we’ve been by each other’s side since we’re kids. have you ever wonder how long are we going to be with each other? do you think we’re ever going to stop talking to each other?” her eyes widen at the thought of it

“you look ugly with your eyes wide like that. cut the bullshit jimin im hungry” you scoffed as you entered the restaurant.

thankfully, the walk from school to the restaurant was only a couple of minutes. if not, you’d be miserable having to come up with answers to her questions that never fail to catch you off guard. the girl next to you lets out an annoyed sigh making you laugh.

“what do you want to eat” she asks, you look up to see the menu covering most of her face and only her eyebrows and forehead was visible. you smiled at the sight.

“whatever you want to eat” you replied. you see her eyebrows frowning.

“umm then let’s have rose tteokbokki? with boiled eggs and fishcakes as add ons. is that fine?”

it took her around 10 minutes to decide on what she wanted the both of you to eat, and now the table is full of all the delicious foods that karina had ordered.

you took a couple of bites, as you enjoy watching karina finishes the rest of the food. she had always been a big eater, everyone knows this and this made you feel like you need to have at least one or two snacks in your bag with you to keep a hungry karina happy.

you look around the restaurant, as you wait for karina to finish eating. the cozy restaurant buzzed with conversation as you and karina finished up your meal.

you managed to space out in the meantime, thinking about the little plan you have been carefully been thinking about with the help of winter. now all you need is to just carefully play it out just like how winter had told you.

the air was filled with a mixture of delicious aromas and nervous anticipation. with each passing moment, your heart thumped faster, nerves coiling like a spring. summoning up your courage, you glanced at karina, fidgeting with your fingers.

"jimin, um, i actually wanted to ask you something," you stammered, your voice betraying your nervousness. her eyes shifted to yours, head still hanging low as she slurps the tteokbokki. "uh, meet at the park tonight at 8 pm?"

karina's eyebrows raised, a playful smile dancing on her lips. she knew your nervous tics all too well and couldn't resist teasing you.

"oh?" she replied, her voice laced with confusion. "the park at 8 pm? that sounds mysteriously specific. what's the occasion?"

your heart thumped in your head, and you tried keeping your calm.

"well, you know," you began, your words stumbling out in a jumble. "the book i lent you, i need it for— i want to read it"

karina's laughter filled the air, her eyes sparkling with mirth. she couldn't resist but to laugh at you.

"you? reading a book?" she quipped, feigning surprise. "oh, wow the world is ending soon probably huh? i suppose i'll have to rush to the park just to retrieve it!"

you let out an annoyed sigh, your cheeks reddened even further, the self-awareness of your stupid excuse making you cringe inwardly. but beneath the teasing, you saw a glimmer of something else in karina's eyes—a warmth.

she leaned in closer, her voice softening.

"of course, i'll meet you at the park," she said, her tone immediately turned gentle. her words sent a wave of relief and hope coursing through you. maybe, just maybe, this was your chance to finally confess your feelings.

as you left the restaurant together, the evening air wrapping around you like a comforting embrace, you couldn't help but smile at karina's playful banter. listening to her talking about how she hates her classes. the nervousness still lingered, but now it was accompanied by a growing excitement—an anticipation of what the night at the park might bring.

little did you know that this innocent book returning session would become the catalyst for a heart-to-heart conversation, an evening filled with vulnerability and courage.

the park was bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. you found a cozy spot on a bench, nervously tapping your fingers against your phone screen. the anticipation built as you awaited karina's arrival, engrossed in a game to distract yourself from the fluttering feeling in your chest.

lost in the virtual world, you didn't notice the approaching footsteps until a familiar voice whispered playfully in your ear.

"guess who?" karina's voice sent shivers down your spine, and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

feeling her warm breath against your cheek, your heart skipped a beat. you turned around, and there she stood, her eyes sparkling with mischief, her hand still covering your eyes.

you played along, pretending to ponder the question. "hm? i think its yu jimin but im not sure"

karina chuckled and removed her hand, revealing her radiant smile. time seemed to slow down as your eyes locked, and in that instant, something shifted within you.

with a gentle touch, karina gestured for you to stand up from the bench. the phone slipped from your hands, forgotten in the magic of the moment. the air buzzed with anticipation as you both began to stroll through the park, bathed in the warm evening light.

as you walked side by side, the atmosphere filled with an unspoken understanding. it was as if the world had faded away, leaving only the two of you in your own little bubble of existence.

the sound of leaves rustling and distant laughter added a whimsical backdrop to the scene. the park seemed alive, mirroring the fluttering in your chest.

karina glanced at you, her gaze filled with tenderness and curiosity. the time for teasing had passed; now it was a moment for vulnerability and heartfelt conversation.

"here," she broke the silence softly, her voice carrying a blend of warmth and apprehension. "it was a good book!"

your heart skipped a beat, anticipation mingled with nervousness. this was it—the moment you had been waiting for, the chance to open your heart and share your true feelings.

breaking the silence, you nervously fidget with your hands. the weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air as you mustered up the courage to ask karina the question that had been burning inside you.

taking a deep breath, you turned to karina, meeting her gaze. "how’s the book?"

karina's eyes brightened, a smile gracing her lips. "oh, yeah! i loved it. the friends-to-lovers trope is one of my favorites. it's just so... heartwarming, you know?"

a flicker of hope sparked within you as karina expressed her fondness for the trope. perhaps this was the right moment to share your feelings. you let out a chuckle at the sight of karina’s eyes shining with excitement.

nervously, you continued, your words trying not to stumble over each other. "friends to lovers trope huh? what if you experienced something like that in real life? how would you feel about it?"

karina's expression faltered for a moment, confusion evident in her eyes. "uh, well... i mean, it's a nice idea, but real life is different, you know? it's not always as simple as it seems in books and movies."

you nodded in silence, agreeing with what she had just said. it seems like she’s describing the exact moment you’re in. your heart sank, a wave of awkwardness washing over you. you had taken a risk, and it seemed you hadn't quite found the right words.

gathering your courage, you pressed on, your voice barely above a whisper. "yeah, i get that. but what if... what if i-“ you looked towards her direction as you speak, and when you finally meet her eyes. your heart sank as you realized that karina had caught on onto what you’re about to say.

karina's face registered surprise and realization, her eyes widening. the weight of the moment settled upon you both, and an awkward silence filled the air.

you took a deep breath, mustering the strength to continue instead of letting the awkward silence carry on. "jimin-ah, i’ve liked you for as long as i can remember. throughout our childhood and teenage years, my feelings for you have only grown stronger and stronger. you have always been the one."

karina's features shifted, her expression filled with sadness. her voice was gentle but uncertain as she spoke, "y/n..i'm sorry if i've given you the wrong impression. but, no.. no i’m so—" karina’s voice shook

the park fell silent, the atmosphere heavy with the weight of karina's realization. a whirlwind of emotions washed over her, leaving her feeling overwhelmed and disheartened. her eyes widened, flickering with a mix of sadness and regret as the gravity of the situation settled in.

karina's heart sank, the realization hitting her like a punch to the gut. the friendship she held dear, the bond that had weathered countless storms, was now at risk of being forever tainted. a sense of disappointment tinged with a touch of disbelief welled up within her, threatening to spill over.

you took a deep breath, your voice filled with remorse and vulnerability. "no it’s okay, i’m— i'm sorry...” you paused, feeling your eyes stinging.

“i’m sorry, it’s just that i like you so much that it's become impossible for me to stay just friends. i tried to hide my feelings, to keep them locked away, but they grew too strong to ignore."

your gaze met karina's, filled with an intensity of emotion that mirrored the love you harbored for her. "im sorry for confessing. i didn't want to jeopardize our friendship, but i couldn't bear the weight of these unspoken words any longer." you let out a fake chuckle

she had never anticipated this confession, never expected that the unspoken words hanging between you would be uttered with such vulnerability. the thought of losing the comfort and familiarity of your friendship left a hollow ache in karina's chest.

you continued, your voice filled with sincerity. "i cherish our friendship, karina. i truly do. but the love i feel for you is too overwhelming to ignore. it's not fair to either of us to pretend that everything can go back to how it was." your eyes that is spilling with tears met hers

her gaze turned downward, her fingers unconsciously fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. she couldn't help but replay the memories of your laughter, your shared secrets, and the countless hours spent in each other's company. the thought of all those moments being overshadowed by the weight of unrequited feelings was like a bitter pill to swallow.

the weight of your confession hung heavily in the air, the silence stretching between you. the park, once a place of solace, now seemed like a backdrop to the turmoil of emotions playing out before you.

tears spilled down karina's cheeks as she mustered the strength to respond. her voice quivered with a mix of sadness and understanding. "y/n..” a mix of emotions swirled within karina's heart.

there was a tinge of guilt, as she wondered if there was something she could have done differently to prevent this rift from forming. she questioned herself, unsure if she had missed any signs along the way, any hints that would have prepared her for this confession.

you nodded, your heart breaking with the weight of her words. "it’s okay, jimin.” you smiled your sadness away “i never wanted to force you into feeling something you don't. i just had to take the chance and let you know. i'm sorry if i've made things difficult."

her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she fought to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to spill over. she valued your friendship deeply, cherishing the bond that had been a constant source of support and joy in her life. the thought of losing that connection, even if unintentional, pierced her heart.

you took a deep breath, your voice trembling as you struggled to hold back your tears. "i... i should go," you managed to say, your voice cracking with emotion.

karina's eyes followed you, her own tears threatening to spill over. "wait," she whispered, her voice filled with guilt and disappointment. "please, don't go."

but you couldn't bear to stay any longer, the weight of unrequited love suffocating you. "i'm sorry, karina," you choked out, your voice thick with emotion. "i”ll.. i’ll see you around."

tears began to trickle down your cheeks, a visible display of the pain that consumed you. you turned away, unable to bear the sight of karina's anguished expression. each step you took felt heavier than the last, as if the weight of your shattered heart anchored you to the ground.

karina stood there, her heart breaking as she watched you retreat. she wanted to reach out, to offer comfort and reassurance, but the guilt of not being able to reciprocate your feelings held her back. her disappointment mingled with a sense of self-blame, as if she had unintentionally led you on or given you false hope.

silent tears streamed down karina's face as she stood alone in the park, her heart heavy with the knowledge that she had inadvertently shattered the friendship you both held dear. the anguished silence hung in the air, echoing the pain and regret that lingered in her soul.

in that moment, the park felt like a desolate place, devoid of the laughter and joy that once filled its corners. the loss was palpable, the absence of your presence a constant reminder of the bond that now lay fractured and fragile.

as the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the park, karina remained rooted to the spot, grappling with the overwhelming mix of emotions. guilt, disappointment, and a profound sense of loss intertwined within her, a painful reminder of the unintended consequences of unrequited love.

karina's voice quivered with sorrow as she spoke the words, her heart heavy with the weight of her own emotions. "i'm sorry," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. "im sorry my heart doesn't align in the same way."

silent tears streamed down karina's face, tracing a path of pain and regret. each drop held the weight of a shattered friendship, a bond she desperately wanted to preserve but couldn't. as she watched you walk away, her heart ached with a mixture of guilt and longing.

with every step you took, karina's silent cries echoed in the depths of her soul. the park seemed to blur around her, its vibrant colors muted by the veil of sadness that enveloped her. she yearned to reach out, to hold onto the fragments of your friendship, but she knew deep down that she couldn't force something that wasn't there.

her tears fell silently, each droplet a testament to the immense pain she felt. the words she uttered, filled with remorse and sadness, lingered in the air like a haunting melody. she had never intended to hurt you, never wanted to be the cause of your heartbreak, yet here she was, bearing the weight of the unintended consequences.

#aespa #aespa imagine #aespa imagines #aespa oneshot #aespa x reader #karina x reader #aespa karina #karina imagines #karina #aespa kpop #aespa angst #kpop angst

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ridestomars · 2 years

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WHERE THE FAIRIES ALL WAIT – E. MUNSON HEADCANONS

𖥻 pairing: eddie munson x fairy!reader. 𖥻 warnings: only mentions of food and eating i guess, if you see something else pls tell me. not proofread (as always).

💭 liv's thoughts: i dedicate this one to @wrenniebaby!! the title comes from madonna's dear jessie. also, my ask is always open for thoughts about my concepts (esp this one!) <3

DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU'RE UNDER SIXTEEN.

🧚‍♀️. Eddie's used to Hawkins' strangeness, but he couldn't deny that really weird stuff has been happening a lot lately. It could be spring, but he swears he's never seen Forest Hills' grass so green and flowery; the front door of his trailer is surrounded by mushrooms and four-leaf clovers – which seems to mean a lot to Uncle Wayne, since he's always picking them up and bringing them home for good luck.

🧚‍♀️. Not to mention the haunting sweet smell of apples that have been following him around wherever he goes. And he is the only one who's able to smell it.

🧚‍♀️. But there are two things that are intriguing him a lot: every day when he comes home from school, he sees a light spot floating outside of his window. Shining a bright gold and sparkling from time to time. And yet, every time he locks eyes with it, it simply vanishes.

🧚‍♀️. There was this one time when he was staring so hard at the light spot, trying to figure out what it was that when it disappeared, he was welcomed by the confused face of Max Mayfield, his neighbor, who was looking at him like he was the most idiotic person in the world.

🧚‍♀️. But the light spot isn't the only thing that has been disappearing lately. A bunch of his own things have gone missing throughout the week. For example, on Monday, he couldn't find his D20 anywhere; Tuesday, he lost three D&D figures at once; Wednesday, his guitar pick necklace disappeared.

🧚‍♀️. He tried to convince himself that, even though he is always extra careful with all of his D&D stuff, these things happen… right? Maybe he dropped them in one of their sessions, or in the school's hallway by accident. It's fine.

🧚‍♀️. Eddie thought he was imagining things when he found gold glitter all over his guitar one day. A very similar color to the light spot that floats outside of his window every day.

🧚‍♀️. It was almost a month after these events started to happen that he was finally able to catch a glimpse of you, the little creature that has been peeking inside his room for the last weeks.

🧚‍♀️. He was absolutely shocked to see your face outside of his window (or should I say absolutely spooked).

🧚‍♀️. But he thought you were the cutest thing ever as your eyes widened, mouth completely agape, and face flushed when you realized that he had finally noticed you. And then, you went back to being that familiar light spot, twinkling before his eyes again.

🧚‍♀️. This simple encounter was enough for him to decide to try to know you, somehow.

🧚‍♀️. And so, he started to leave small things outside of his window for you to take – he figured it would be better than to have you taking his stuff without him noticing –, like small wildflowers that he reaped on his way back from school, or some nice fresh fruits he stole from one of the small markets uptown.

🧚‍♀️. Every morning, he was happy to find that all of his gifts were gone… but were replaced by something else.

🧚‍♀️. Colorful guitar picks, rings made out of twigs or wire and crystals, old coins, and pretty handmade bouquets of red flowers were your gifts to him.

🧚‍♀️. It was like you were warming up to him, and he patiently waited for the day when you would decide to show yourself again. And now, instead of spending his days thinking about the most fantastical campaigns, he daydreamed about your next encounter; imagining every little aspect of it.

🧚‍♀️. But when you actually showed up, he was absolutely speechless.

🧚‍♀️. Maybe that was because you wore a small, earthy-toned slip dress, so loose that the straps kept falling off your shoulders, and your hair looked so wild, with a few leaves and twigs along the strands. In a nutshell, you were probably the most beautiful person he's ever seen in his whole life.

🧚‍♀️. Oh, and the way your golden aura practically radiated out of your skin was just too much for him.

🧚‍♀️. He must've really looked like a fool because you started giggling so hard that your chest couldn't stop shaking and your cheeks started to heat up like crazy. And he just stood there… absolutely mesmerized by the sound of your laughter.

🧚‍♀️. After a bit, he finally mustered up the courage to say, in a very high-pitched voice: "Hi! Hey! Hello! I-um… you… y-you were the one leaving those cool things on my window, right?", and you just nodded, curiously staring at him.

"Nice! That's really nice! I really liked t-them, especially those coins! Where did ya get them?" as soon as he said that, he paused, scratching his neck. "No! Forget I said that, it was super rude of me! I just uh-just wanted to say thank you! Yeah, thanks!"

🧚‍♀️. And as you giggled, finding his rambling really cute, his eyes dropped to your chest that shook wildly with laughter, and he saw it. His guitar pick necklace was wrapped around your pretty neck, and the pendant was comfortably resting on the valley of your breasts.

🧚‍♀️. Ever since then, talking to you was his favorite part of the day.

🧚‍♀️. I mean, at least seeing your face, since you didn't talk. At all. You just nodded or shook your head as you listened to his endless ramblings.

🧚‍♀️. You kept exchanging gifts every day, but now, Eddie invited you to eat the fruits he brought with him. As in: he actually asked you to enter his bedroom, sit on his crappy mattress with him and share large portions of peaches, apples, strawberries, grapes… you name it.

🧚‍♀️. And you kept making rings and pretty necklaces for him, and he treasured them with his whole heart.

🧚‍♀️. In fact, you even had matching rings now! Both were made of wire with a small citrine in the middle of them – you insisted on making it onyx or any darker stone, but Eddie insisted that they didn't match you, and you should make them citrine.

🧚‍♀️. In your almost daily visits, Eddie always put music on. But always went for soft tunes, like Heart and even Fleetwood Mac – he borrowed most of the records from Nancy's collection.

🧚‍♀️. And you discovered that you actually enjoyed these human songs. Especially Stevie Nicks.

🧚‍♀️. In fact, it was during one of those music sessions that you actually spoke to Eddie for the first time.

"Like it", you softly muttered, while chewing on a strawberry.

"Y-you what?" he almost fell out of bed when he heard you speak.

"Like… it?" you asked back, now very unsure of your own words. "No?"

"You like Fleetwood Mac?" Eddie questioned slowly and you nodded, "That's nice, baby. Y'could do better, though."

And then you're back to giggling again.

🧚‍♀️. Needless to say that he bought the whole Fleetwood Mac and Stevie Nicks discography for you. So now, every time you get together, you listen to a new one.

🧚‍♀️. And now that he finally heard your voice, he always tries to make you talk to him. Even if all you could say was small, one-word sentences, and was really patient to teach you how to form more complicated sentences <3

LIKES, REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED! eddie masterlist | main masterlist | navigation ── hey! wanna talk? leave me a message after the beep. currently accepting requests for steve, nancy and eddie.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fairy!reader #eddie x fairy!reader #fairy!reader #liv talks about eddie #eddie <3

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bellafragolina · 2 years

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Hello Renee dear! I was wondering how Ingo would feel about a reader who takes an interest in him and start to frequently sitting in his car to watch him battle on the singles line. Keeping an eye on him they begin to notice those little tells that shows how he feels, especially his eyes. how they light up when he’s excited and how they shine when he’s happy. Congratulating him on every win and encouraging him after any loss they start to talk more and one day tell him his eyes are beautiful when he smiles. That smile people claim he doesn’t have. If such a comment really gets the corners of his mouth to turn up a bit they tell him his smile’s like a Skitty and it’s the loveliest thing in the world! I’ve seen many an artist that when rendering the twins with the triangle mouths, if he’s able to smile a bit he gets this little :3 kitty mouth and it’s just too cute!!! He also just has such gorgeous eyes that emote so much even when his mouth can’t and that should be acknowledged and appreciated!!!Thank you so very much Renee!

I love the kitty smiles people draw him with, especially when they’re small and subtle. It’s sooooo cute and I adore it and him

🍓🍓🍓

It’s not against the rules to sit in any of the battle cars, truth be told. Very few come to sit in the last cars, though. It’s difficult to get to, with all the other cars having their battles, and the exit is out of the way of the subway, making those trying to get somewhere fast lose time trying to find their way back to the main tracks. So Ingo is surprised to find you coming into his car, just to settle into one of the seats and wait patiently with him for a challenger.

Ingo engages you with some polite small talk, but returns to his spot when a challenger comes through. He battles them, and afterwards you approach with high praise over his win. Ingo thanks you, eyes sparkling with joy at his victory, then turns to encourage the trainer to try again. You watch, and decide then and there that yes, you’ll be coming back often to watch Ingo battle

You don’t come every day. Ingo notices this when you don’t show up to several of his multi train shifts, instead choosing to stay with his single train shifts. He asks about it, having grown used to your presence in his car, and you tell him it’s work related. You have more time to sit with him on the days he runs the single trains, so Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Ingo understands, but he still glances to where you sit on the multi train, always disappointed to not see you applauding him after a win. And Emmet is starting to notice

It’s after one of his rare losses that things start to change. You’re comforting him as he sulks over the loss, and he takes your encouraging words to heart. He straightens up, his eyes bright and determined.

“There’s that beautiful smile of yours.” You say with a laugh.

Ingo is floored. He’s heard before about his lack of smile; he has complaints about it coming through all the time from new subway passengers. Even his own brother and friend Elesa tease him sometimes over his naturally dour expression. Countless nights trying to force a smile flash through his mind, nights where he practiced endlessly with no results. Yet all of that self consciousness and disappointment in himself slowly floods out of him at your simple words

Joy and giddiness burst through Ingo, forcing his back ramrod straight. And for the first time, he smiles. The corners of his mouth quirk, barely noticeable, but your keen eyes see it. They see the skitty smile the man makes seconds before he lunges forward to hug you. You’re shocked by the sudden affection, but you don’t hesitate to return it, stroking down Ingo’s spine as he shakes again you

“Thank you!” Ingo booms, the joy bleeding into his tone. “Thank you! I love your smile too!”

He doesn’t let you go for the rest of his shift, and his smile doesn’t fade for the rest of the day

🍓🍓🍓

Not included: Emmet hounding you over how you got Ingo to smile without it looking pained or forced

Hope you enjoy it, darling! Have a good night <3

~Renee

#ingo x reader #pokemon imagines #pokemon x reader #submas x reader

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angstmongertina · 7 months

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WIP Wednesday Results/Sentences A Day Late

Happy Thursday! I am once again late, but in my defense, I was doing research related things for most of yesterday and I have some sort of little bug (that did test negative for COVID, at least). And then my Wifi died when I tried to work on this last night, and anyway, it's here now.

I truly ended up regretting a little bit putting the option to tell me to work on my research paper because it got way more votes than I was expecting out of a pseudo-joke option. I won't be sharing THOSE accountability sentences, but rest assured that, as I hinted, I have a fair amount of theory typed up already, complete with modeling equations, and a rough draft of a slide deck for presenting to a potential collaborator on Monday? So there has been progress there! I even made slides to present at group meeting today. Work has been done on research, i promise!

Anyway, thanks for voting (even all of you bullying me to do my actual work) and onward to other progress in WIPs below the cut!

Face to Face: Nadia/Thomas (1 sentence but I cheated)

Still, despite his sudden realization, the crowds buffeted him closer, until he could see every bead sparkling in her hair, the fluttering eagerness in her fidgeting. Until he could hear the wry amusement in his aunt’s voice, a perfect lead-in to his introduction. “Lady Nadia.”

forever i'm yours, forever i do: ArtemRosa (1 sentence)

Here and now, he can ask her for reassurance, can beg for the warmth that is the only way to keep those insidious thoughts at bay.

That Which Binds Us: FEA Chrobin (3 sentences plus some smidgeon)

There was something in her expression, in the way she frowned at him, that made it clear what her stance on that belief was, and that she would have no qualms in saying so directly. That, in fact, she was fully prepared to say so directly. Instead, he sighed. “You’re right.”

Officium et Honestas: SWTOR Regency AU (7 sentences plus an exclamation)

“How marvelous!” The man’s exclamation was surely loud enough to be heard in Bath, but even so, there was naught she could do against his honest enthusiasm. “Theron said nothing of the matter to me, else I might have had an opportunity to pursue a greater acquaintance. What are your impressions, my dear? I myself found him a well-bred, intelligent sort of man, if a bit reticent.” “That is hardly a fair comparison coming from you.” Lady Malcom leaned forward, one eyebrow raised as she considered her husband. “I doubt there are half a dozen men in all of London who are as loquacious as yourself.”

Evenly Matched: Jaslen/Falon (2 sentences with a bonus question)

She frowns, recollecting herself in the motion, and reclines back into her seat, draping herself with artful elegance as she surveys him. “Are you certain? You seem rather…” she pauses, tapping her lip with one light finger and barely resisting the urge to laugh at the heat in the man’s eyes as he follows her movements, “agitated.”

Thanks for reading! <3

#Tina rambles.#Tina liveblogs her writing struggles.#WIP Wednesday

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imthatwannabeauthor · 1 year

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I posted 17,193 times in 2022

822 posts created (5%)

16,371 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@pzos-amiserableidiot

@the-king-of-lemons

@ghost-chi

@l-art-stuff-l

@hiveswap

I tagged 542 of my posts in 2022

#fish obsession pog - 25 posts

#fish of the day - 12 posts

#fish - 11 posts

#mer art - 10 posts

#queer pride mers - 10 posts

#fishblr - 9 posts

#art - 9 posts

#dream smp - 7 posts

#asks! - 6 posts

#like - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#there is a river running through this city i know as well as my own name. it’s the first place i’ve ever called home. i don’t think its poet

My Top Posts in 2022:

Fish of the Day

Happy Tuesday everyone! Today's fish is the swordfish! Suggested by @shock-value (Another reminder that all y’all can suggest fish)

The swordfish is an amazing animal, recognized and named after the long bill extending from the top lip. Looking quite a bit like a sword as it stretches out. They belong to the family Xiphias gladius and in some countries are called "broadbills''. Swordfish reach about as large as the bluefin tuna, reaching 3 meters as well, with the largest recorded swordfish being almost 15 feet in length.

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60 notes - Posted March 8, 2022

Fish of the Day

Happy Monday everyone! Today we are focusing on the Common Sea Dragon.

The common sea dragon, known also as the weedy sea dragon, or the leafy sea dragon, which is a misnomer as the leafy sea dragon is its own separate species. Known by the scientific name Phyllopteryx taeniolatus they are closely related to and in the same family as the seahorse, finding themselves in the Syngnathidae family.

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73 notes - Posted March 14, 2022

Fish of the Day

Happy Thursday everyone! Today’s focus is the firefly squid!

The firefly squid, also known by such names as sparkling enope squid and hotaru-ika in Japan, is a deep sea wonder. Firefly squids, or Watasenia scintillans as they are known by the scientific community, are the only living squid within their family. They are commonly found in Japan around spring time and eaten there in restaurants.

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107 notes - Posted March 3, 2022

Fish of the Day

Wonderful Wednesday everyone!! Today we're focusing on hagfish!! One of the most hard to biologically classify animals in the deep.

The hagfish, known by many names and few lovers, is an amazing fish. This is due to the fact we are unsure we can consider them a fish due to their strangeness. The hagfish is a deep sea, eel shaped animal that is known for its lack of bones. Known by names such as the Myxini family (also sometimes known within scientific communities as Hyperotreti), it is also referred to as slime eels. However within practical communication the name most commonly used is hagfish.

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150 notes - Posted March 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Fish of the Day

Good Tuesday! Today's focus is on the gulper eel!

The gulper eel, also known as the pelican eel and Eurypharynx pelecanoides is a species of deep sea eel that is very rarely seen by humans due to their scarcity and their depth. They are found in the temperate and the tropical ocean around the world at the depth of 1,600 to 9,800 feet deep.

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707 notes - Posted March 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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askwhatsforlunch · 2 years

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Stracciatella Tiramisù

My friend Marie turned 35 on Monday, and as I’m going to spend an afternoon (and probably all evening until perhaps late at night) with her to celebrate, I made this Stracciatella Tiramisù and chilled a bottle of sparkling wine! This is a simple dessert to make, easy to carry on a bus, too, and a sheer indulgence! Happy Wednesday!

Ingredients (serves 4 to 8):

For the savoiardi (Italian ladyfingers, makes 3 dozens)

2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened

2 tablespoons plain flour

1 cup plain flour

½ teaspoon baking powder

4 large eggs, whites and yolks separated

a pinch of salt

2/3 cup caster sugar

2 teaspoons Vanilla Extract

Icing Sugar, for dusting

1/3 cup hot, strong, freshly brewed coffee

1 tablespoon caster sugar

1 tablespoon good quality White Port

100 grams/3.5 ounces good quality dark chocolate (at least 60%)

3 large eggs whites

a pinch of salt

4 large egg yolks

1/3 cup white sugar

2 tablespoons good quality White Port

500 grams/1.10 pound Mascarpone cheese

1/2 plump vanilla bean, split lengthwise

To make the savoiardi, preheat oven to 205°C/400°F. Line 3 baking trays with baking paper. Grease with butter and dust with flour. Set aside.

In a medium bowl, combine flour and baking powder. In another medium bowl, whisk egg whites with a pinch of salt until just stiff but not dry. Meanwhile, place egg yolks in the bowl of an electric stand mixer fitted with the whisk, and beat, gradually adding sugar until fluffy and a pale yellow colour. Add Vanilla Extract. Mixture must fall a like ribbon from the whisk. Gently fold in half of the beaten egg whites. Sift in flour mixture, ½ cup at a time, gently folding into the mixture. Finally, fold in the rest of the beaten egg whites. Spoon mixture into a piping bag, and pipe savoiardi (7.65 centimetres/3.5 inches) onto prepared baking trays, spacing them 5 centimetres/2 inches apart.

Bake at 205°C/400°F, for 15 minutes, rotating baking trays halfway through cooking. Remove from oven, immediately dust with Icing Sugar, and let cool completely.

In a shallow plate or dish, stir sugar into hot coffee until completely dissolved. Stir in White Port. Set aside and allow to cool.

Roughly chop dark chocolate. Set aside.

Beat egg whites with the pinch of salt, until stiff peaks just form. Set aside.

Place egg yolks in a large bowl, and whisk energetically, gradually adding sugar until fluffy and a pale yellow colour. Whisk in White Port wine. Mixture should fall a like ribbon from the whisk. Whisk in half of the Mascarpone. Scrape the seeds off the vanilla bean, and whisk them in as well.

Then, fold in remaining Mascarpone until completely combined, and a very pale yellow colour. Gently fold in two-thirds of the chopped dark chocolate. Finally, carefully fold in the beaten egg whites.

Dip savoiardi in the coffee mixture and arrange them at the bottom of a large, shallow dish, in an even layer.

Spoon half of the stracciatella mascarpone mixture in blobs onto the soaked savoiardi. Gently smooth it out in an even layer with a spatula. Repeat with another layer of coffee-soaked savoiardi and mascarpone cream. Chill in the refrigerator, at least 4 hours, but preferably overnight.

Just before serving sprinkle with reserved chopped dark chocolate.

Serve Stracciatella Tiramisù with a glass of chilled Prosecco!

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professionalcleaningcompany · 12 days

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House Cleaning Hacks: Time-Saving Tips and Tricks

A clean and tidy home is essential for creating a comfortable and inviting living environment. However, with our busy schedules and hectic lifestyles, finding the time to clean can often feel daunting. Fortunately, numerous house cleaning hacks can help you save time and effort while maintaining a sparkling clean home.

In this article, we'll share some time-saving tips and tricks to streamline your cleaning routine and make house cleaning more manageable.

1. Create a Cleaning Schedule

One of the most effective ways to save time on house cleaning is to create a cleaning schedule and stick to it. Designate specific days for different cleaning tasks, such as vacuuming on Mondays, dusting on Wednesdays, and mopping on Fridays. Having a structured cleaning routine can help you stay organised and ensure that all areas of your home receive regular attention without feeling overwhelmed.

2. Use Multi-Purpose Cleaning Products

Investing in multi-purpose cleaning products can help streamline your cleaning routine by eliminating the need for multiple specialised cleaners. Look for versatile cleaning solutions that tackle various surfaces and tasks, such as all-purpose cleaners, disinfectant wipes, and microfiber cloths. This approach saves time, reduces clutter, and simplifies your cleaning supplies.

3. Declutter Regularly

A clutter-free home is easier to clean and maintain. Implementing regular decluttering sessions can help you save time by reducing the amount of stuff you need to clean and organise. Create designated spaces for items, donate or discard items you no longer need or use, and embrace minimalism to keep your home tidy and clutter-free.

4. Clean as You Go

Incorporating the "clean as you go" approach into your daily routine can help you stay on top of messes and reduce the time spent on deep cleaning tasks. Whether it's wiping down countertops after cooking, putting away items after use, or picking up toys and clothes, small, consistent efforts can make a significant difference in maintaining a clean and organised home.

5. Optimise Your Cleaning Tools

Using the right cleaning tools can make a world of difference in your cleaning efficiency. Invest in quality vacuum cleaners, mops, dusters, and scrub brushes that are designed to make cleaning easier and more effective. Additionally, consider using time-saving tools like robotic vacuums or steam cleaners to tackle specific cleaning tasks with minimal effort.

Incorporating these time-saving house cleaning hacks into your cleaning routine can help you maintain a clean, organised, and inviting home without sacrificing your precious time and energy. By adopting a structured house cleaning services Norwest schedule, using multi-purpose cleaning products, decluttering regularly, cleaning as you go, and optimising your cleaning tools, you can streamline your cleaning process and enjoy a cleaner, happier living space.

Embrace these time-saving tips and tricks, and make house cleaning a breeze. With a little planning, organisation, and creativity, you can achieve a sparkling clean home while freeing up more time to focus on the things that truly matter to you. Happy cleaning!

H&C Professional Cleaning

Beaumont Hills NSW 2155

02 8529 5928

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atlanticcanada · 2 years

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Senseless beating: Who assaulted this crossing guard?

Albert Elliott can still manage a smile less than a week after a brutal assault left him with a broken orbital bone, broken nose and a fractured arm.

The 64-year-old school crossing guard who lives with special needs had just finished his shift last Wednesday when he was attacked around 3 p.m. on St. George Street.

"I was walking home after work and I got nailed by the garage, by the garbage can," said Elliott. "I wasn't expecting it, he got me from behind. I think there was two, but I couldn't see. I was all full of blood."

Elliott is also a long-time volunteer at the humanity project, a not-for-profit soup kitchen that helps feed and clothe the homeless and the working poor.

Charlie Burrell, the founder of the Humanity Project, was sickened by the attack and posted a photo of Elliott's battered face on Facebook in hopes someone would come forward with information.

"He's helpless. It's like beating on a child and it's disgusting and it hurts. It hurts to see that done to not only one of our volunteers, but someone we truly love and care about," said Burrell.

Staff at the humanity project have given Elliott gift baskets with chocolates and snacks and have arranged for meals to be delivered to his home.

Nancy Ross, the volunteer coordinator at the Humanity Project, called Elliott the sweetest person she knows, bar none.

"He comes here on a very regular basis and will spend time in the dish pit. He gets everything sparkling clean and he's so proud of that," said Ross.

Elliott is recovering slowly, but he's not letting the assault get to him. He certainly hasn't lost his sense of humour.

"The last couple of days, I've been in pain and I can't move my arm. Charlie asked me to come in and do dishes. Remember that Charlie? I said, 'Charlie how can I work when I've got one arm?'" laughed Elliott.

Burrell said Elliott is still smiling despite the attack.

"He's still happy and it's like it never broke his spirit. He's just a happy guy and he's so full of love and kindness and he's just... I don't know. He inspires me," said Burrell.

A member of the Codiac Regional RCMP confirmed to CTV News Monday afternoon the assault is under investigation, but no arrests have been made.

"It was unnecessary and he did nothing to deserve it," said Burrell. "The streets here in the city, whether you're homeless or not, they're only getting worse by the day."

Burrell is asking anyone who may have information on the assault or any businesses in the area who may have security camera footage to give him a call at the Humanity Project or to call the Codiac Regional RCMP.

from CTV News - Atlantic https://ift.tt/sYILc5q

#new brunswick #prince edward island #nova scotia #news #politics #canada #CTVAtlantic

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blossom-hwa · 3 years

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Bloom, Bloom, Pow! |1| - CHANGMIN

Happy Valentine’s Day!!!! Please enjoy the first half of nearly 17k of pining for the boy I would be pining for if he was in my life <3

Special thanks to @wingkkun for helping me come up with several parts of this story!! I don’t know how you deal with me, Kai, but I really appreciate it <3

(Suggested playlist: Bloom Bloom, DDD, and Just U by The Boyz :D)

Pairing: Changmin x gender neutral!reader

Genre: fluff, angst if you squint, university!au

Triggers: cursing, alcohol

Word Count: 9.4k

Dancing with you, Changmin feels like flowers are blooming in his heart.

Part 1 | Part 2

TBZ Masterlist | Interwoven

~ you

It starts like this.

Ji Changmin is notorious for his dancing, not because he’s bad at it (he’s arguably one of the best students in the dance department), but for his habit of moonwalking through the university halls. Headphones stuck in his ears, phone in hand, he twists and twirls around campus, eyes closed in concentration or fixed on some faraway point in space, lost in the realm of his music.

And the strangest thing is, he never bumps into a single person.

Oh, he might brush against an arm or two. His fingertips might graze a shoulder with a butterfly’s touch, his feet just barely skimming over another’s shoes. But crashing into someone? Knocking into a wall? Never.

It’s fun to see, really, when you cross paths with him or when he shows up on the school Snapchat story. Even though you only know Changmin by name (Kevin talks to him, but you haven’t had the pleasure), there’s something endlessly graceful and fascinating about the way he moves, slipping through the crowded halls with the cheerful air of someone who doesn’t care about what other people around them think.

It starts with an impulse, just something to lighten up your mood. You’re walking to one of your least favorite classes (look, writing might be fun, but certainly not the way your professor teaches it) when Changmin’s bright orange mop of hair appears ahead. A slight smile creeps up your face as he comes closer, an unstoppable force parting the crowded sea of students.

An idea pops into your mind.

Trip him up.

Briefly, you question yourself. Why?

Like that meme, your brain supplies a concise answer. You gotta.

You��re grinning, moving before your mind can even process what your body has decided to do. Stepping awkwardly around a couple of other students, you place yourself right in Changmin’s path.

He twists.

You turn.

He lurches.

You step.

He flashes you a confused look, his usual faraway gaze replaced with something bemused and even slightly annoyed. For a second, you feel a flash of uncertainty – what if he doesn’t see this as the joke you mean it to be? After all, you don’t even know each other. How is he going to take this?

But he must see the teasing smile on your face and the glint in your gaze because his eyes sparkle, lips stretching wide into the brightest grin you’ve ever seen him wear. His moves take on an exaggerated cadence, arms stretching widely, legs smoothly twisting around your much less graceful feet as he twirls, just avoiding your flailing hands jokingly trying to stop him.

Changmin wins, of course. Your mediocre attempts at obstruction are nothing against his skill. As he slips away, he flashes you a smirk of farewell, leaving you with only the memory of a bright smile, graceful limbs, and an awkward dance.

You expect it to be a one-time thing. It’s so stupid when you think about it later – what the hell possessed you to do that, anyway? You’re cringing just thinking about it – so there’s no way, you tell yourself, no way that Changmin would bother to acknowledge your presence again. When you walk down the same hall a few days later and see a bright orange head of hair artfully bobbing in your direction, you just smile a bit at the residual memories.

But Changmin catches your eye, his gaze brightening when it meets yours. As the curve of his lips widens, one graceful finger twitches slightly in a tiny gesture – get over here. His eyes glint – try me.

A grin spreads across your face as you step closer. Why not?

And so, again, you dance.

. . . . .

~ changmin

Changmin doesn’t really know what makes you so special. He doesn’t know why he indulges your twists and turns, weaving in and out of your awkwardly stepping feet on the way to class. He doesn’t know why he didn’t just give you a weird look the first day you stepped into his path, avoided you as best he could and walked away.

But that would’ve erased the smile on your face, he reasons, thinking back to the memories. It would’ve extinguished the sparkle in your eye, muted the brightness of your expression into something far less brilliant. And despite the fact that Changmin barely knows who you are, has only a vague recollection of your name from when someone once called to you down the hall, in that moment, he subconsciously knew that there was nothing he would willingly do to dim your sparkle. Not a sparkle of beauty, necessarily, or of mere physical loveliness. No, in your smile, there’s something deeper, something brilliantly incandescent that strikes right into Changmin’s heart.

Other people think it’s stupid. Younghoon, for example, wonders if he’s gone absolutely nuts the first time he witnesses the dance (well, Changmin calls it a dance – Younghoon says it looks more like a cult ritual). “What the fuck was that?” he asks after you walk off, raising an extremely confused eyebrow.

Changmin just shrugs, watching your figure disappear down the hall before slipping back into his usual moonwalk. “I don’t know,” he replies honestly. “We just do it.”

“You’re so weird,” Younghoon mutters, shaking his head slightly. “Do you even know their name?”

Again, he shrugs. “Y/N, I think?”

Younghoon chokes. “You think?”

If Changmin thinks about it, it is kind of stupid. You stepped into his path in a crowded hallway and proceeded to try and trip him up, all while wearing a huge grin on your face (that Changmin thinks is beautiful, but he won’t dig into that just yet). Changmin, instead of trying to get away, decided to indulge your fun. You’ve never exchanged a single spoken word – he isn’t even sure you know his name, though he can’t really say anything because he isn’t sure he knows yours – and you’ve rarely interacted, even nonverbally, beyond a few smiles and the little confrontation that happens every Monday and Wednesday at approximately two-ten in the afternoon when the two of you walk down the same hall.

But it doesn’t feel stupid, not in the moment. It feels right, somehow, grinning as widely as his lips will allow while you try to step all over his toes. You never manage to trip him, not in those few seconds of dance, but Changmin appreciates the effort and laughs along with you, exaggerating his movements and pretending to almost fall, just to see the smile on your face grow wider.

So the stares don’t matter, not to Changmin. He can stomach the strange glances, the hidden smirks, the subtly raised phones trying to catch the scene for the school Snapchat story (anyway, if it bothers him enough, he can terrify Jaehyun into deleting it). He can shrug off Younghoon standing like a silent tree nearby, stuffing his face with bread and praying no one associates him with his squirrelly best friend, because seeing your brilliant smiles and hearing your stifled laughs are more than enough to get him through the rest of the day.

“You never smile that widely around me,” Younghoon remarks one day, “and I’m your best friend.”

Changmin just shrugs as he flashes you one last grin over the sea of students in the hall, turning back to face his friend. “Well,” he says, purposely trying to be infuriating, “there’s a reason for that.”

Younghoon whines, of course, pouting his lips in the way that wins him so many admirers around the school, but Changmin ignores it in favor of thinking about your smile, your laugh, the way your eyes sparkle and your limbs fly in your attempts to throw him off his balance.

Yes, he thinks, there’s a reason.

The reason is that your smile is more beautiful than anything he’s ever seen.

. . . . .

~ eric

Eric considers himself pretty well-versed when it comes to feelings. He’s fallen in love a lot, even with people he often doesn’t even know too well. Something just always pulls him in – a particular smile, a mischievous glint of the eye, the way they tap their pencil against their chin when deep in thought. He falls easily, quickly, and a little too hard, and as a result, he can recognize the look in his own eyes (and in others’, too) when he’s fallen head over heels for someone lovely.

He doesn’t have too many problems shooting his shot, either, which is nice. Sunwoo’s told Eric several times that he’s jealous of the way he can walk up to someone so easily and go, “Hey, I want to get to know you a little better – mind if I take you on a date?” To Eric, though, it’s just part of the process. He gets nervous, no doubt, but more often than not, if he’s courteous, he’ll at least meet a new friend, even if the feelings don’t end up being reciprocated.

When Eric slams into you on his board one day – what the fuck were you doing, anyway? Trying to trip up that wide-eyed kid with the dimples? Though to be fair, he shouldn’t be skateboarding in the halls – the first thing he notices is your pretty smile, the embarrassed grin you give him as he apologizes profusely, extending a hand to help you up. His heart thumps once.

True to himself, Eric’s ready to drop a flirty pickup line, make you laugh a little, and ask if he can get you a coffee or something to make up for the trouble. The words are forming on his lips, just about to burst from his throat when he feels a laser gaze glaring holes into his back.

Against his better judgement, Eric looks back slightly. The doe-eyed boy you were, what – interacting with? Dancing with? He needs to go over that scene in his head again – is staring back with so much concentration it looks like he wants to tear out Eric’s entire soul.

You drop Eric’s hand and he looks back, startled by the sudden lack of touch. “Don’t worry, really – I’m not hurt. Thanks for helping me up,” you say.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Your voice.

If Eric’s heart wasn’t already fluttering over your smile, it’s certainly fluttering now over your voice. God, it makes Eric want to just be your friend, at the very least. There’s a perfect mixture of warmth, gentility, and kindness in your tone, sprinkled with something so very sweet that soothes his ears.

Hell.

But by contrast, your smile is distant, like you’re thinking of something beyond the moment. Eric takes the current brief silence to look where your eyes flit off to, trying to see who you’re fixated on.

The doe-eyed boy is walking away, shifting gracefully through the group of students currently converging on the path. Your gaze follows his disappearing figure, something longing and endlessly lovely in your expression.

Ah, Eric realizes, heart sinking slightly. You’re already in love.

The memory of a gaze glaring holes into his soul briefly flashes in his mind, causing Eric’s slightly dampened smile to curl into a light smirk.

From the looks of it, the doe-eyed boy seems to be in love with you too.

Eric looks at you again. “I’m really sorry about that,” he says honestly. “I definitely shouldn’t have been skating in the hall, but I’m glad you aren’t hurt. I hope I haven’t made you late to class?”

You shake your head, smile now focused. You’ve returned to the present. “You’re good,” you reply, briefly checking your phone. “I’ve still got a few minutes.”

“Well, just the same, if you ever want payback in some form or another, just ask around for Eric Sohn.” Picking up his board, Eric flashes you a smile, wishing slightly that your longing gaze was fixed on him, not the dimpled boy who’s long since disappeared. “I can buy you a coffee or something to make up for it.”

“Might take you up on that one of these days,” you grin. “I’m Y/N. Wanna exchange numbers so I can leech that coffee off of you?”

Heart thumping wildly, fingers tapping quickly, Eric enters his number into your phone, saving himself as Eric Sohn 💙. He hopes you don’t mind the emoji.

“Blue heart?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you take the phone back. “Not a red one?”

Can’t exactly do that when it’s clear you’re in love, he thinks, though he doesn’t say that out loud. “Nah.” He shrugs. “Figured that’d be too much. Need to get to know you a bit before I do anything more, right?”

A sweet, soft smile spreads across your lips, and Eric has to fight hard not to melt at it. “I appreciate that, Eric,” you say, pocketing your phone. The way you say his name blooms in Eric’s ears. “See you later, maybe?”

Eric knows he probably shouldn’t make judgements so quickly, but it’s hard not to believe in your sweetness with your kind voice and gentle smile. You deserve love, he decides in that moment, with the doe-eyed, dimpled boy who clearly loves you back.

Mentally, he puts a stamp of approval on the mission formulating in his brain as he nods. “See you,” he says, grinning.

Even if he isn’t the one you’ll fall in love with, he can at least help a new friend find their happiness.

. . .

~ kevin

Kevin thinks there’s a special place in hell for lovebirds who clearly like each other but won’t even consider the notion of actually talking and maybe going on a god damn date.

And there’s an extra-special little island in that ocean of fire for such lovebirds who have never spoken a single word to each other in their lives and have only communicated through stupid smiles and mushy eyes and worst of all, motherfucking mating dances.

Yes, that’s what he calls your tiptoe-tap dance-whatever-the-fuck-they-are dances with Changmin. You hit him the first time he said it out loud, but what else can he call it? There’s no other term that fits the situation nearly as well. It’s weird and strange like most mating dances are, and most importantly, the two of you are head over heels in love.

“We’re not in love!” you snap when Kevin brings it up. “How can we be in love if we haven’t even spoken once?”

Kevin nearly spits out his drink.

“You’re telling me,” he enunciates slowly once he’s recovered, “that you have never spoken to this guy, the same guy you were worrying about to me yesterday because you didn’t see him in the hall on schedule, not even once?”

When you nod yes, scowling in embarrassment, Kevin legitimately faceplants into the table. He stays there for several whole minutes, trying to digest the situation and the sheer idiocy of two of his closest friends.

Doesn’t matter. You’re clearly in love, or at least have a very hopeless, incurable crush on Ji Changmin. And if Changmin’s face is anything to go by, he’s head over heels for you too – Kevin’s never seen his friend with that big of a smile on his face or that sparkly of a look in his eyes.

He wants to vomit just thinking of it.

Okay, fine, so maybe some of this abhorrent disgust is due to the fact that Kevin is single and not exactly ready to mingle after several disastrous blind dates. Maybe some of his annoyance at your mating dances is unfounded. But in his defense, the two of you are stupid as fuck.

He’s in the middle of complaining about this mating dance phenomenon to his freshman friend, Eric Sohn, when Eric puts out a hand. “Wait, stop,” he says, halting Kevin mid-complaint. “Are you talking about Y/N and that… that guy, with, like, really round eyes and a dimple?”

Kevin’s eyes narrow. “How do you know them?”

“Well, uh, I accidentally crashed into Y/N on my board while they were doing…” Eric helplessly waves his arms around.

“The mating dance,” Kevin supplies.

“That’s a horrible name, Kevin.”

“It’s the closest thing that explains it.”

“Well, whatever.” Eric cringes. “I gave Y/N my number in case they wanted me to like, buy a coffee or something in exchange for nearly committing a murder. So that’s how I know them. Not sure of the other guy’s name, though.”

Kevin sighs. “Ji Changmin.”

“THAT’S CHANGMIN?”

“Shut up!” Kevin snaps. “Just let the whole dorm hear your screaming, won’t you?”

“Sorry,” Eric snips back, though more quietly this time. “But you all talk about how he’s scary as shit and always dancing? He wasn’t dancing when he walked off, and he looks like… I don’t know, a child? I thought he was a freshman.”

“Wait.” Kevin puts his hands on Eric’s shoulders. “You just said Changmin wasn’t dancing when he walked off?”

Eric slowly shakes his head. “I don’t think so?”

“Oh, my dude.” Kevin begins shaking Eric back and forth. Eric’s head wobbles on his neck for several seconds before he comes to his senses and knocks Kevin’s hands off of his shoulders, scowling. “Eric Sohn, you are fucked.”

“What?” Eric’s eyes immediately turn panicked. “Why?”

“Ji Changmin dances all the fucking time,” Kevin says, putting his head in his hands. How has Eric already fucked up this badly in his first year? Kevin’s a mess, but he can say he’s solidly a B-level mess, meaning he more or less has his social shit together, even if not his academia. “If he wasn’t dancing when he walked away, that means he was pissed off.”

A beat of silence. Then – “Would it help if I had a semi-sort-of plan to get him and Y/N together?”

Kevin’s head snaps up. So maybe Eric isn’t entirely clueless. “So you know they’re literally in love with each other?”

Eric rolls his eyes. “It’s so obvious,” he whines. “Why haven’t you even thought to play Cupid?”

“Because Y/N is stupid and won’t admit that they have feelings, and I haven’t talked to Changmin that much this semester because we have different classes,” Kevin groans. “They’re both so stupid.”

“Eh.” Eric gets a faraway look in his eyes. “It’s hard for a lot of people to realize they’re in love.”

Silence falls as Kevin tries to pin down the familiarly weird feeling his friend is exuding. Eric’s gaze stays faraway, fixed on some point in the metaphorical distance (he’s staring at a wall covered in tacky posters and random sketches – there’s no way he’s enamored with Kevin’s half-baked drawings of trees and scissors and shit).

He looks sad.

“Oh, Eric.” Kevin’s frustration falls away as he pulls the freshman into a hug. “You like Y/N, don’t you?”

Eric doesn’t even deny it, he’s so far past that. “It’s stupid, Kevin. I’ll get over it, I always do. It’s just a crush.”

Not for the first time in his life, Kevin wishes he had his friend’s maturity, even though he wouldn’t enjoy the root cause. Falling in love as easily as Eric does would be too hard for Kevin to deal with. “Eric Sohn, you are one of the most selfless people in the world,” he declares. “You don’t have to do this, you know? If it hurts, you don’t.”

“No, Y/N deserves love.” Eric puts his chin on Kevin’s shoulder. Kevin takes the opportunity to pat his head. “Changmin does, too, and I think they’ll find it together. God knows he was staring holes into my back while we were talking.”

Kevin thinks he’s going to melt. “You’re dumb as fuck,” he says fondly, laughing at Eric’s squawk of indignation, “but you’re sweet. Too sweet for your own good.”

“… Is that a compliment?”

“It’s whatever you want it to be.” Kevin pulls back from his friend. “Ready to play Cupid?”

Eric nods, sadness partially replaced with mischievous fire. Kevin will take that much for now. “Yeah!”

. . . . .

~ changmin

Changmin doesn’t expect to be punched in the gut when he’s going with Younghoon to get a stupid cup of coffee.

Okay, no one actually punches him. But it certainly feels that way when he sees you sitting with the skater boy kid who knocked into you the other day, talking at a table by the window.

Younghoon doesn’t notice at first, just goes up to the counter to order at the (overpriced) campus Starbucks. Changmin loiters nearby, waiting for Younghoon to get his drink and come over, all the while trying to not obviously stare at you and the other kid having an animated conversation just a few feet away.

“What’s with the pout?” Younghoon asks, trying unsuccessfully to scare Changmin with his sudden presence. His own lips turning down with his failed attempt, he follows Changmin’s gaze to the two students sitting by the windows.

“I’m not pouting,” Changmin says, pout deepening.

Younghoon nearly spills his coffee, he snorts so hard. “Sure,” he says. “I’ll just pretend you’re not moping over someone you’re head over heels for whose name you don’t even know.”

If Younghoon actually spills his coffee when Changmin elbows him in the ribs, no one can tell. The look he gives the taller boy is enough to silence him for the next half an hour, at least.

He tries to focus, he really does. Though the drinks are overpriced, Changmin won’t deny that the coffee-scented air of the Starbucks is pleasant. It’s mid-afternoon, a time when most students are in class, so it isn’t too loud, either. But despite all of this, Changmin can’t focus on psychology. His eyes keep drifting over to the table by the window, where your conversation still hasn’t ended.

“Ji Changmin.” Younghoon waves a hand in front of his face after his concentration wanes for the umpteenth time. “You came here to study.”

This time, Changmin doesn’t deny the pout that settles on his lips. “I know,” he says, genuinely upset now. He wants to focus and get this studying done, he really does, but he just can’t put his mind to it.

Younghoon sighs. “Why don’t you just try talking?” he asks, eyes flickering over to where you’re still chatting animatedly with the skater boy. God, it’s been at least half an hour – haven’t you finished your drink? Why aren’t you gone yet? Why are you still here, invisibly punching Changmin in the chest every time you smile at the skater kid?

The words slip out of Changmin’s mouth before he can stop them. “What if they’re dating?”

There’s a moment of silence. Then Changmin realizes just what he’s indirectly admitted to his best friend.

Fuck.

“Well, that’s the first step.” Younghoon reaches over and pats Changmin on his slumped head. “Admitting your feelings. Proud of you, Changmin.”

Scowling, he slaps the hand off his hair, ignoring Younghoon’s yelp of indignation. “Not funny,” he whines, putting his head back down. “What if they are?” God, he should’ve helped you up before that skater boy did, run over and given you a hand first. Now skater boy’s on a date with you and Changmin feels…

Oh, God.

He’s jealous.

Shame and embarrassment flood his face at the realization. This is gross, his mind wails. Why does he feel jealous over you, someone he’s never even spoken to? The only semblance of interest you’ve given him is your initiation of the sidewalk dance. And maybe your smile.

Changmin’s pout deepens impossibly further. Actually, you probably give your lovely smile to every person you meet. He isn’t special. In fact, he’s betting that the skater kid fell for your smile too, the smile that makes it feel like stars are raining around his feet.

“Hey, earth to Changmin?” Younghoon waves a hand in front of his face. “You good?”

“No,” he replies, burying his head in his textbook again. “Leave me alone to mope.”

Younghoon just snorts, pats his head, then goes quiet, presumably back to studying. Meanwhile, Changmin doesn’t even bother to make a pretense of looking at his book anymore. He just stares into darkness.

Feelings, he decides, fucking suck.

. . .

~ you

Eric, you come to find, is a really fun guy. He might be a little awkward, but he’s clearly got a warm heart, and with every second you spend with him, you find yourself feeling more and more comfortable in his presence. With him, an entire hour and a half pass in a flash before you check your phone and realize you have class in less than ten minutes.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize, hastily putting your things together. “Time passed so quickly. I didn’t keep you from doing anything important, did I?”

He just waves a hand. “Don’t worry!” The bright smile that’s been gracing his face this entire time grows even wider. “I don’t have a lot on my plate at the moment. It was fun talking to you.”

“Me, too.” You push your chair in. “Let’s do this again sometime? I’ll buy my own coffee, though.”

Eric’s grin makes him look like a puppy. You have the irrational urge to pat his head and coo. “Of course! See you later, Y/N.”

“See you.” Waving once, you exit the café, ready to head off to class.

Just outside the building, though, something makes you linger. You feel weird, like someone’s staring. Quickly, you look back through the window of the Starbucks. Eric’s still there, talking to a tall boy in one corner, but he isn’t looking at you.

Your gaze shifts, and invisible heat floods your cheeks as Ji Changmin stares back from behind the glass, seated at a table at the far end of the café.

He’s wearing glasses today, you notice blankly. They’re round, frame his eyes perfectly, and make him look god damn adorable.

Your heart flutters.

For a moment, you just stand there, rooted in place. What do I do here? you think desperately. What are you supposed to do when you’ve never actually spoken to him, only exchanged greetings in the form of weird dance steps (if they can even be called that) and, well, smiles?

Oh. Smiles.

Those work, you guess.

Slowly, you curl the corners of your lips into what you hope is a grin. It grows wider as Changmin smiles back, eyes crinkling and teeth showing as he waves to you from inside the café.

Your mood, already lightened by your conversation with Eric, skyrockets impossibly as you wave back, mouth splitting into a grin that stretches from ear to ear.

God, since when did just seeing Ji Changmin make you feel this happy?

In a moment of heightened stupidity, you point up to your eyes, drawing circles with your fingers in a motion that you hope indicates glasses. Changmin points to the frames on his face, and you nod, hands forming two thumbs ups, which your unthinking brain hopes will convey the fact that you really like how he looks with them on.

It feels like it should be impossible for Changmin’s smile to get any wider, but it does. Through the window, you watch him clap a hand to his mouth shyly, shoulders shaking slightly as he presumably laughs. It makes you laugh, too, and you wave one more time before walking away.

Then what you did actually hits you, and like that first time you stepped in Changmin’s path, you put your face in your hands and cringe as hard as your body will allow.

You really did that, you scold yourself. You really made circles with your fingers and gave him fucking thumbs ups because you liked his glasses.

You’re a fucking moron.

. . .

~ eric

When Eric walks up to Changmin’s table to talk to his friend, he immediately reevaluates his entire opinion of the doe-eyed boy.

His face is buried in the textbook when Eric starts approaching (which, first of all, mood). However, when he gets closer, Changmin lifts his head out of the pages and fixes him with the deadliest, pointiest glare that Eric has ever faced in his life.

Eric now sees why Kevin calls Changmin scary as fuck. The stare he gave when Eric crashed into you was nothing compared to this.

His eyes feel like daggers slowly slicing into Eric’s skin.

“Um.” Eric stops a couple feet away from the table Changmin’s sharing with the friend he needs to talk to. The friend looks up curiously, and Eric seizes the chance. “Can I, uh, talk to you? For a second?” he asks, desperately hoping they can get away from Changmin’s glare as soon as possible. “Please?”

The friend blinks once, then nods. “Be back in a minute, Changmin,” he says, about to stand up.

“Why can’t you talk to him here?”

Oh, God. If Eric wasn’t ready for the whiplash that came with seeing Changmin’s soft features versus his sharp glare, he really wasn’t ready for the soft tones of his voice contrasting with the venom blended in. Everything about Changmin, at first glance, screams innocence and sweetness.

What the fuck goes on behind that exterior?

“Um,” Eric stalls, desperately trying to think of an excuse. “I –”

“Don’t be rude, Changmin,” the friend cuts through smoothly, standing up. Eric immediately feels dwarfed by this guy’s long legs, but he doesn’t care as much as he normally might because he’s so glad he’s getting rescued. “Let’s go.”

The Starbucks isn’t large, but Eric follows the friend to a far corner, away from the table. Once they’re there, he clears his throat. “Um –”

“Are you dating them?” the tall guy interrupts. “The one you were here with before?”

Once the question settles in, Eric starts shaking his head violently. “No, no, I’m not. No. I just – well, I slammed into Y/N on my board, so I offered to buy coffee for us sometime to make up for it?” He tries to smile. “Not dating.”

“Oh, thank God.” The friend rubs his forehead. “Changmin was going to have an aneurysm.”

Well, that confirms that his near-death at the eyes of Ji Changmin wasn’t in vain. Relief and sadness run through Eric’s brain at the confirmation that yes, Changmin is head over heels for you. “Yeah, uh, I was actually going to ask about that.” He swallows. “Are you and Changmin close friends?”

A curious look. “Yeah, you could say that. Why?”

“Well, I don’t know if you know Kevin Moon, but he’s sick of watching Y/N and Changmin pine over each other without bothering to make a move,” Eric rushes out. He can still feel Changmin’s gaze boring holes into his skin. “But Kevin doesn’t have classes with Changmin this semester and he definitely hates my guts, so…” He sighs. God, this is harder than he thought it’d be. “Basically, are you tired of watching them pine, and do you have the time and energy to play Cupid with us?”

For a moment, Changmin’s friend just stands there, staring him right in the eyes Eric. Then a smirk spreads over his face. “Of course I do,” he says, now grinning like a god damn maniac. “Count me in.”

A breath of relief rushes out of Eric’s lips. “Thank God,” he mumbles. “Give me your number. We start plotting this weekend.”

His phone comes back to him with a new contact named Kim Younghoon in it. “Why are you doing this, anyway?” Changmin’s friend – Younghoon – asks as Eric puts the phone away. “What’s in it for you? Didn’t you only meet Y/N when you crashed?”

“Their pining is disgustingly obvious,” Eric says matter of factly. “I’ve been Kevin’s friend for years, and now I’m also Y/N’s. Why not alleviate both of their pain by getting them together?”

Younghoon looks at Eric, almost like he’s appraising him. Eric feels kind of like a bug under a microscope and he’s absolutely sure this tall guy is going to take back his agreement and call him weird before he suddenly smiles widely. “You’re cool,” Younghoon declares as though he’s just made a scientific discovery to rival Einstein’s photoelectric effect. “Looking forward to... whatever this is.”

With that, Eric ducks out of the café as fast as possible, leaving the smell of coffee and (thankfully) Changmin’s burning stares behind. Once outside, he pulls out his phone again and creates a group chat.

To: schemerz

Eric: younghoon and kevin say hi to each other

Kevin: hi younghoon

Younghoon: hi kevin

Step one of operation cupid is complete. Eric grins.

Eric: pack your bags boyz we begin scheming tomorrow

Younghoon: why do we need to pack bags

Younghoon: are we going somewhere

Okay, well, maybe this will take some time, Eric thinks, looking at Younghoon’s texts. But it can’t be that bad. You and Changmin are so obviously crushing on each other. It won’t take too much work to make get you two together, will it?

. . . . .

~ younghoon

Younghoon genuinely never knew that trying to get his best friend together with the person he likes could be this infuriating.

It’s not only that he has to continually reassure Changmin that no, skater boy – whose name is Eric Sohn, stop calling him skater boy, I can hear the “derogatory” even if you don’t say it out loud, Changmin – is not dating you, yes, he heard it with his own two ears, and yes, Eric said it with his own words. Saying this over and over, honestly, is annoying enough. Younghoon can deal with that, though. It’s just a product of Changmin’s own insecurity and lovesickness, nothing that he can control.

But actually trying to set the two of you up?

Torture.

They first devise a stroll at the mall, just to get you two to actually maybe talk. Kevin demands that this plan be put first because he cannot stop screaming over the fact that the two of you are so whipped but haven’t spoken a single word to each other ever.

Which, honestly, same. But at least Younghoon doesn’t yell about it in the group chat.

(Sometimes, looking at all of the capital letters in Kevin’s messages gives him a headache.)

The plan is to invite both you and Changmin to the mall, then ditch so the two of you will maybe actually exchange a few words with each other by the end of the day. It’s going pretty well – both of you have agreed to go, completely unaware that the other is showing up – but then you have to cancel because of a sudden quiz you need to study for the next day.

Well, fine. Younghoon just ends up shopping with Changmin for the entire afternoon (Eric still ditches for obvious reasons – cough, Changmin, cough – and Kevin has to study for the same quiz, which he curses about endlessly in the group chat for an entire day). Not a big deal. Younghoon likes clothes, and against his better judgement, he likes Changmin.

So no harm done. Besides, there’s always next time, right?

Wrong.

The university dance team has a concert coming up that Kevin begs you to go to, all under the guise of supposedly supporting one of his friends, Juyeon. When you show up at the venue, Younghoon can still tell you’re confused over why you’re there – you don’t really know Juyeon, he hears you hiss to Kevin, so what’s going on? – but you seem nice enough. Friendly enough. Younghoon likes you immediately.

This plan isn’t as straightforward as the mall-ditching one. A certain Ji Changmin is one of the best dancers on the team, so he has his own solo halfway through the show. Younghoon proposes that Kevin force you to show up so you can melt over Changmin’s performance and either profess your love right then and there (which is the ideal case) or at least compliment the dancer on his skills. Either way, it gets the two of you to talk.

So, suffice to say, Younghoon is pissed when his well thought-out, perfectly structured plan falls apart when you have to leave before the end of the entire show because your roommate needs you to do something or the other that is somehow more important than you confessing your undying love for Changmin.

(Nothing, he complains later in the group chat, could be more important than that. Not even your roommate nearly setting the whole dorm on fire. Eric might beg to disagree, but Younghoon will just tell him to beg.)

Well, it kind of works out. Your roommate’s fuckup doesn’t happen until after Changmin’s performance, and Younghoon gets a front row seat to your jaw literally dropping when he comes onstage and starts dancing the way his dance major body always does. Younghoon legitimately thinks he could pick stars out of your eyes, the way you’re staring at Changmin. And even though you have a hand over your mouth, he can easily tell you’re smiling like no tomorrow.

So Younghoon gets the satisfaction of both seeing your reaction to Changmin’s performance and telling Changmin that his crush watched him dance. The wave of shock that immediately crawls up his best friend’s face makes Younghoon want to cackle and shake his head at the same time. It gets even better when Younghoon relates the look on your face as you watched and the compliments you told him to pass on.

Changmin has never smiled that widely or that shyly, ever. As his best friend since childhood, Younghoon will attest to that. It’s amazing and offensive and slightly gross.

God, Changmin’s whipped.

But this small success doesn’t make up for half of the entire plan that failed. You and Changmin still didn’t talk, after all, even if you fell even deeper in disgusting love. So Kevin advocates for a return to the simple method of making plans and ditching.

This time, it’s a movie that the schemer line (hey, Younghoon came up with that name – he thinks it’s a damn sight better than Kevin’s “The Boyz,” regardless of what the younger boy says) plans to ditch you two at. Kevin suggests horror, mainly because he’s not going to be there to watch it, but also because of the ages-old cliché where you’ll probably get scared and hold Changmin’s hand or some shit.

(Younghoon knows it won’t be the other way around not because of some sexist idiocy, but because Changmin laughs at possession and ghosts and keeps horror movie masks in his room to scare his friends with. He thinks Annabelle and Chucky are cute. Worst case scenario, you happen to enjoy horror too, and the two of you bond over your weird interests. Which isn’t even a worst case scenario, because you two will talk, and that’s the whole point of the plan.)

They really think it’s going to work this time. Kevin reports you arriving on time to the theater and immediately runs off so you won’t see him and start asking questions like why he’s hiding behind the potted bushes outside a nearby bistro. Younghoon and Eric wait with bated breath at the campus café for any last-minute updates before Kevin gets back.

When Kevin actually shows up at the café, having taken the bus back from the theater, they’re about to celebrate a plan finally completed. Younghoon thinks he’s going to start screaming from relief.

Then a text shows up on Kevin’s phone from you, asking why he never showed up.

Panic.

When they finally get their minds together, Kevin rattles something off about a family emergency and a call he had to take, which gets you off his back for a bit. But then he asks if you actually went to see the movie anyway.

It turns out you left fifteen minutes later when no one showed up.

No one.

Meaning Changmin never got there either.

Eric slams his head on the table. Kevin looks like he’s about to explode. Younghoon himself is about to throw his drink at something when he gets a text from Changmin mere minutes later, asking where he is and why no one’s at the theater.

breadhoon: it’s so late?? why didn’t you text earlier??

qminnie: the bus was late :/// why isn’t anyone here? I know it’s not just because the theater is dark, I walked around all the seats and couldn’t find you or kevin

Kevin starts screaming.

As Eric’s shoving a yelling Kevin out of the café and apologizing to the baristas, Younghoon just fires off a quick excuse to Changmin, who’s apparently still at the theater – I’m really sorry, my dad called about something and it ran super late, just watch the movie and let me know how it is – all the while internally screaming as loudly as Kevin physically is in this moment.

Later that evening, Kevin texts the group chat with the question on all of their minds.

moon boy: how is it that all of our plans fucking failed

Younghoon just wants to jump off the top of his dorm building.

It turns out that Eric, despite being the youngest of the three of them, has the most brain cells. He proposes something so simple but with the potential to be so effective that it blows Younghoon’s mind.

“Well, if ditching them to be alone doesn’t work, we might as well just be there,” he reasons over morning cups of coffee (courtesy of Kevin, who lost rock paper scissors and is still pouting over it). “Someone throws a party, we all show up, and we can play, like, mafia. Or truth or dare or whatever. That’ll get them to interact, probably.”

It’s a beautiful plan. Younghoon hugs the younger boy and proclaims him the smartest freshman he’s ever met (“I’m pretty sure I’m the only freshman you’ve talked to this year, Younghoon.”). Kevin praises the higher beings for the seven tenths of a working brain cell that Eric holds.

They work out the details quickly. Sangyeon will host the party – he holds one every other month anyway, so it won’t be too much trouble to let him know what’s going on. Besides, his parties are usually pretty controlled, so less risk of someone doing something illegal and freaking everyone out. Younghoon, of course, will bring Changmin. Kevin will bring you and Eric. In turn, Eric says he’s going to bring his friend, Sunwoo, because, quote unquote, “I need a freshman to keep me sane after dealing with you messes of upperclassmen.”

(Well. He has a point. Younghoon may look put together, but the only things that register in his thoughts most of the time are anime and bread. Kevin doesn’t even bother looking put together, which only speaks volumes about his level of brain chaos.)

“If this doesn’t work,” Kevin declares the moment they finish hashing out the plan, “I’m going to drown myself in one of the fountains.”

“It will work,” Eric says, determined. “It has to.”

Younghoon doesn’t say anything. All of their past failures have taught him to keep his mouth shut. However, if this plan fails, he’ll gladly jump into a fountain with Kevin and inhale water up his nose.

. . . . .

~ you

“You’re not going to ditch me, are you?” you ask for the umpteenth time, narrowing your eyes once more at your (now exasperated) friend.

“No,” Kevin groans, rubbing his temples. “I’m not going to ditch you, and for the last time, there were emergencies, okay?”

You want to give them the benefit of the doubt, you really do. Especially Eric – there’s no way he would do anything malicious to you on purpose (meanwhile, if Kevin was mad enough, he just might), he’s just too sweet. But first Kevin dragged you to this dance show that you’ve never been to before, which was weird enough, and the timing for that last movie cancellation was too coincidental to not be suspicious. If it was just him cancelling, you might not question it, but none of the three showed up.

Kevin’s planning something, probably with Eric and Younghoon. You just don’t know what.

“Uh huh.” You make sure to show your disbelief in those two words as you walk up the steps to Sangyeon’s house. “Damn, it’s been a long time since I’ve been here.”

“It’s so big,” Eric says from behind where he’s finally caught up to you two. His friend, Sunwoo, lingers quietly at his side, though his wide eyes betray his amazement.

“I always forget how big this place is,” Kevin agrees, ringing the doorbell. “Just stay on the ground floor, though, it’s not too bad. And watch your drinks. Sangyeon’s parties are usually pretty chill, but anything could happen.”

You snort. “Yes, Mom,” you mock, just as the host himself opens the door. “Hey, Sangyeon!”

“Y/N!” He pulls you and Kevin in for a short hug, then smiles at the visibly nervous freshmen standing behind you two. “Oh, hi! You must be Eric and Sunwoo, right?”

They just nod, still awed. Kevin stifles a snort as your lips curl into a fond smile – it’s weird to remember that you used to be a freshman just like them,. There isn’t much more time to think, though, because Sangyeon quickly ushers the four of you inside and all of your thoughts drown in the party’s chaos.

A couple of hours pass in mind-numbing peace. Kevin mixes you an atrocious cocktail that you pour down the sink when he isn’t looking. You watch Jacob shake his hips on the dance floor while Kevin twerks to Beyoncé. Even Eric and Sunwoo, who were originally just hovering around you, loosen up after a shot or two and find someone else they know to talk to, a freshman whose name you’re pretty sure is Hyunjoon.

Things are going well, you think in your tipsy haze. No one’s thrown up yet, no one’s passed out (well, Felix looks pretty sleepy, but he’s a sleepy drunk – how much Jisung already managed to give him to drink, you aren’t sure), and best of all, no one’s done anything stupid that’ll go viral on the school’s Snapchat. This is nice.

Then Kevin grabs you by the wrist, done twerking, and hollers unintelligible words in your ear as he drags you to the edge of the dance floor. He says more, but all you catch is “watch” and a yelled “YOUNG BOON.” Or something like that.

Confused, you just try not to spill your drink as Kevin pushes you through the crowd that’s forming in the living room. There’s a lot of yelling and cheering as the music changes, and then someone gets pushed to the middle of the dance floor.

A hand flies to your mouth.

It’s Changmin.

“Kevin,” you hiss. “Kevin! That’s Changmin!”

Even drunk, your friend manages to give you the most judgmental look you’ve ever seen. “No shit, Sherlock,” he snaps. “Just watch!”

For a moment, Changmin just stands in the middle of the circle that’s formed, eyes wide and doe-like (and absolutely fucking adorable, even under the red lighting). Then something in him shifts – it nearly gives you whiplash – and the dancer Changmin you saw that day Kevin dragged you to the concert comes out in full force.

It’s short, his performance, much shorter than the five-minute long solo he had at the concert. But holy fuck, it’s explosive. Even the smallest flicks of his fingers seem to send off sparks of light, red glinting off his face and the buttons on his shirt.

He has you captivated, so much so that you don’t register Kevin shifting until he’s positioned almost directly behind you. Changmin’s dance is winding down, a softer look coming back into his previously focused eyes, and everyone’s cheering and starting to clap before a harsh shove sends you sprawling forward.

For a moment, you stand right in front of Changmin, eyes undoubtedly wide with confusion as the situation filters through your muddled brain. Embarrassment begins to spread through your body as people begin to chant, “DANCE! DANCE! DANCE!”

Fuck.

This must have been Kevin’s plan.

Whipping your head around, you try to find and glare at your friend (you’re seriously rethinking that title), but he’s already disappeared. You then try to shrink back into the crowd, but they don’t let you. Someone plucks the cup from your hand, erasing your last excuse for leaving the circle of screaming partygoers as you look around desperately for a way out.

Then a hand extends into your vision, fingers twitching in a gesture you’ve come to associate with a certain person at a certain time at a certain place, two ten p.m. on Mondays and Wednesdays just inside the literature building.

Slowly, you look up to see Changmin shyly smiling back, eyes glinting in the way you’ve come to (not so) secretly adore.

A grin unconsciously spreads across your face as he launches back into his dance, more laid-back and flowy this time, much like the moonwalks he does down the halls at school. Almost on instinct, you lurch into his space, barely managing to brush over his foot as he nimbly steps away.

On a normal day, the dance you do is already messy and weird to passersby – you’ve made your way onto at least one of the university Snapchat stories already – so you can’t imagine how this looks in the moment. It must seem so uncoordinated, especially with your limbs loose with alcohol (Changmin still moves as steadily as ever, what the fuck) and the fact that you can’t really see where you’re stepping in the dim red light of the room. But it doesn’t matter – Changmin’s grinning so widely and you’re laughing, really laughing, loud enough to overpower what you think is Kevin’s yelling (it sounds something like “WHY ARE YOU DOING YOUR FUCKING MATING DANCE AND NOT DANCING LIKE A NORMAL PERSON?”, so it must be him), and everyone’s cheering and clapping and even though you can see a few phones being pulled out, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t fucking matter. All that matters is your fingers brushing against Changmin’s, his laugh ringing in your ear, and the smiles on your faces until –

Until Changmin grabs your outstretched hand, tangling his fingers in yours, and encircles your waist with his free hand before dipping you down until his face hovers just a foot above yours.

Someone’s screaming, someone that definitely sounds like Kevin, but you can’t process it. Everything feels like you’re underwater – muffled, blurred, indecipherable. All you can think of is how fast your heart is beating, how hot your face feels, and how intensely Changmin is staring into your eyes.

Holy shit.

You can barely breathe.

When Changmin eventually lets you up to screams and hoots, your knees almost buckle. If not for his fingers still entangled in yours, you probably would’ve collapsed, but he seems to sense this and grips your hand even tighter.

The smile can’t leave your face, even though it turns smaller and shyer as the crowd disperses and you’re left holding Changmin’s hand for no reason. You should let go, probably, but you don’t want to, and Changmin doesn’t seem uncomfortable with it either. Still, the physical link between you two only grows more and more obvious as the two of you stand in silence, unable or unwilling to speak.

Changmin finally breaks it. “Hi,” he says in this voice that legitimately makes you want to crumble into the ground. It’s soft, it’s sweet, it’s something entirely uncharacteristic yet at the same time so fitting for the boy who just danced his heart out on Sangyeon’s living room floor. “I’m Changmin.”

Your voice leaves you, and the minute you take to find it feels like an eternity. These are your first words to him, your mind screams – don’t say anything stupid!

Staring into his sparkling doe eyes, you swallow hard before saying your first words to the boy who may or may not have already stolen your heart.

“Hi,” you say, smile threatening to grow even wider, wide enough to split your face. “I’m Y/N.”

. . .

~ changmin

He’s only heard three words from you, but Changmin thinks he could drown in your voice. It’s lovely, smooth in a way that flows over his body like warm spring rain. Willingly, he would stand under the shower of your gentle tones, putting his face to the sky and letting your words wash over him, soothing his skin.

Vaguely, his mind tells him that it’s way too early to start waxing poetic about your voice. You’ve only spoken three words to him, for fuck’s sake – what is he even doing?

A whisper that sounds suspiciously like Younghoon floats through his brain. You’re whipped.

Well. He just might be.

“Isn’t this kind of weird?” you suddenly say, jerking Changmin out of his you-induced haze. The smile on your face is a little embarrassed, now, and he catches you glancing at your fingers still linked with his. Briefly, he wonders if he should let go – he’s the one who first grabbed your hand, after all, what if you’re uncomfortable? – but you don’t seem to hate it. If anything, your smile grows a little shyer.

Changmin may think horror movie dolls are cute, but your smile is even cuter. He might melt right then and there.

Belatedly, he realizes you’re looking at him, waiting for a response. “Um – weird?” he replies, praying that his voice doesn’t crack.

(It doesn’t, not this time. Thank the lord.)

You look down again, this time at your feet. Probably out of embarrassment. “I mean,” you say, silvery voice tickling Changmin’s ears, “we’ve been interacting for at least several months.” The full force of your smile hits Changmin as you raise your head. “But we’ve barely spoken a word to each other.” When you laugh, he hears bells. “Isn’t that strange?”

“Well, when you put it that way, yeah.” Changmin giggles (yes, he fucking giggles, what the hell, why can’t he sound any cooler than he really is?). “But I think it was lucky. Well, I think I was lucky to meet you.”

He wasn’t supposed to say that out loud. He wasn’t fucking supposed to say that – what’s wrong with him? He used to be so good at watching his words – but at least, despite his embarrassment at having revealed this part of him, he gets to see you flustered. It’s adorable, he thinks, so much more adorable than anything else in the world. “How come you, um, stepped in my way that first time?” he asks, genuinely curious.

Changmin doesn’t expect the embarrassed snort that comes out of your mouth, but it makes him laugh. “You know that meme, the one where it’s like ‘why are you doing this?’ and your brain just says ‘you gotta?’” Rolling your eyes slightly, you snicker. “That’s what went through my mind. You never bump into anyone, so, well, someone had to try to mess you up.”

Changmin’s going to print a hundred copies of that meme and tape them all over his dorm. He will never be so grateful for a stinking Internet horcrux in his entire life.

Well, okay, he’s probably exaggerating. But still.

“That’s mean,” he says, purposely pouting his lips. “Why would you want to mess me up?”

You elbow his ribs, giggling. “Someone has to bring the king down at some point.”

Changmin’s about to take advantage of his current burst of confidence to respond to that – “You think I’m the king?” – and possibly fluster you even more, but someone’s yelling “LOVEBIRDS!” in a voice that sounds a little too much like Kevin’s. Both of you turn around instinctively, which probably only fuels the lovebird fire (though Changmin can’t bring himself to care at the moment).

“WE’RE PLAYING MAFIA!” someone else – is that Jaehyun? Probably – yells. “GET OVER HERE!”

“Mafia?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow. “That…”

Changmin can hear the exasperated apprehension in your voice. He hears it in his own whenever his friend group gets together to play the game. “Let’s just see what happens,” he suggests, trying hard not to melt when you look over at him. “Someone might do something stupid?”

Your laughter sounds like sparkles, wind chimes twinkling in the breeze. Changmin wonders what he wouldn’t give to hear it for the rest of his life. “You’re right, you’re right.” Glancing once more (and smiling a little wider) at your still-linked hands, you jerk your head in your friends’ direction. “Shall we?”

As he nods, Changmin privately thinks that there’s nothing in the world that could dissuade him from following you.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for this stupid oblivious couple GOD)

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papermoonloveslucy · 3 years

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TV TIMES

June 27, 1965

Every so often a new comedienne is hailed and toasted by the critics and public. None of them in the past 15 years has shown the talent or endurance of Lucille Ball.

Cara Williams (1) was touted as "the new Lucy." She never came close because the old Lucy was too good for her. Carol Burnett (2) has had some good innings, but is discovering that it takes more than a rubbery mouth and a knack for slapstick to be a great comedienne.

Nanette Fabray (3) skyrocketed briefly as Imogene Coca's successor with Sid Caesar, but without Caesar both gals found their comedy careers progressing at a very uneven gait.

Elaine May (4) - of Nichols and May - is more a method actress than a comedienne and hasn't much of a track record without her partner in comedy. Audrey Meadows (5) never found herself as a comedienne after The Honeymooners (with Jackie Gleason).

Connie Stevens (6) tried to follow in the late Gracie Allen's path of non sequiturs, but her timing is way off the mark. Elizabeth Montgomery (7) rang the Nielsen rating bell consistently this season, but no one knows for sure if she can do it without an imaginary broomstick for a prop.

Martha Raye (8), who is a veteran at the business like Lucy, is the only comedienne that comes to mind as a genuine competitor in this league. Lucy beats her out in the versatility department because she can play it for the quick chuckle or the big belly laugh. With Martha it's the big boffola or nothing.

Lucy has that rare faculty for bringing a wild line of dialogue or an almost ludicrous situation into the realm of believability. When she and former husband Desi Arnaz were about to embark on the I Love Lucy TV series 14 years ago, a nervous CBS-TV program executive inquired, "But will people believe she is married to a Cuban bandleader?"

His fears were groundless. It didn't matter if it was a Cuban bandleader or a bowlegged Martian. Lucy can stare at the most hard-boiled skeptics with that wide-eyed by-golly-it's-true look and convince them of 'most anything’.

Even within the cramped confines of weekly domestic situation TV comedy, Lucy is able to display enough sides of her many-faceted comedy personality to sustain threadbare plots. As with Charlie Chaplin, the audience savors the technique employed, even though they can foresee every turn in the script.

At a CBS convention of affiliated station managers in Los Angeles last May, Lucy and Don Knotts posed as owners of a "35-watt TV station" in a short skit which wasn't particularly loaded with laugh-lines. But Lucy in an old blue hat and a wraparound fur neckpiece, and Don in a luau shirt, knew just the attitude to strike. Just their way of standing there was enough to give this audience the message. Sinclair Lewis never said it any better in his novel "Main Street."

Next season (her fourth without Desi) Lucy will play it minus the kids and Vivian Vance, who wanted no more of TV's weekly treadmill. Lucy may be doing it only because she is responsible for a huge TV production corporation, but underneath that she may also have a feeling of responsibility to a talent she has spent many years developing. It's fun to be the champion, too.

# # #

FOOTNOTES FROM THE FUTURE

(1) On the Desilu sitcom “December Bride” (1954) had Harry Morgan’s Pete stealing many scenes griping about scatterbrained wife Gladys (who was never shown on camera). When Morgan moved into his own spinoff series, Gladys was finally revealed in the form of Cara Williams on the initially popular “Pete and Gladys” (1960), a show not produced by Desilu. The program did not last long but Cara came was escorted directly into her own series “The Cara Williams Show” (1964). Molded by CBS as the next wacky redhead to follow in the comedy heels of Lucille Ball, the plans quickly went askew following an unfavorable network power shuffle and the canceling of her sitcom after only one season. With her momentum completely gone, her career went into rapid decline.

(2) Although Lucille Ball did not give Carol Burnett her first big break (Broadway and Garry Moore did that), Lucy was her biggest fan and the two developed a life-long relationship that saw them both take turns starring on each other’s television shows. If anyone can claim to be the heir to Lucille Ball’s Queen of Comedy title, it is Burnett.

(3) Yet another funny redhead, Nanette Fabray was born in a trunk and was more known for her Broadway musicals than her television shows. In 1974, Lucille Ball cast her in her first post-sitcom TV special, “Happy Anniversary and Goodbye”.

(4) Elaine May was best known as a writer and monologist. She would be nominated for an Oscar for screenwriting in 1979. She was best known for performing with Mike Nichols. Not really a contender to Lucy’s throne, but in a class of her own.

(5) Audrey Meadows was a real rival for TV’s 1950s housewife as Alice Kramden in “The Honeymooners”. They only problem was that Alice wasn’t funny, like Lucy, but tolerant and in love - like Ricky. In 1986, redhaired Meadows played Lucille Ball’s sister on “Life With Lucy”. Although critics admired the chemistry between Ball and Meadows, they hated the show, which was canceled after that episode aired.

(6) Connie Stevens was a sparkling strawberry blonde, as sexy as she was ditzy. At the time of this article, she was appearing in a ABC sitcom titled “Wendy and Me” in which George Burns (as himself) was her landlord!

(7) Elizabeth Montgomery had remarkable success playing Samantha Stephens, a witch married to a modern-day mortal in “Bewitched”. Montgomery’s father Robert was an Oscar-winning film director. Her husband was William Asher, who was one of the original directors of “I Love Lucy.” As director of his wife in “Bewitched” the show often strongly resembled “I Love Lucy”. Montgomery was more an actress than comedienne but she had the most fun playing Samantha’s mischievous twin cousin, Serena.

(8) Martha Raye was known as "The Big Mouth" and considered the female equivalent to Bob Hope, combing her comedy with work for the USO during World War II and beyond.

~ INSIDE TV WEEK ~

Monday, June 28, 1965 ~ a network re-run of “Lucy and the Old Mansion” (TLS S3;E22), first aired on March 1, 1965.

One redhead replaced another for the summer of 1965. “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour” (a rarely re-run series), replaced “The Danny Kaye Show.”

Wednesday, June 30, 1965 ~ The re-runs kick off with “Lucy Makes Room for Danny” (LDCH S2;E2), first aired on December 1, 1958. It was a cross-over between “The Danny Thomas Show” aka “Make Room for Daddy” and “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour” aka “I Love Lucy” to mark the fact that “Danny Thomas” was taking “Lucy’s” time slot and ‘moving’ to CBS. Lucy and Desi did a reciprocal appearance as the Ricardos on Thomas’s sitcom, which was filmed at Desilu.

The day this TV Times supplement was included in the newspaper, this was the headline.

#Lucille Ball #Lucy #The Lucy Show #Los Angeles Times #Cara Williams #The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour #June 1965 #1965 #Martha Raye #Connie Stevens #TV Guide #Elizabeth Montgomery #TV #Audrey Meadows #Elaine May #Nanette Fabray #Carol Burnett #Hal Humphrey #Newspaper

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

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Marinette’s Week Off

This is a one-shot. Sorry, I kind of forgot Adrien.

One week. Just one week. Marinette took one week off a year. One week where she didn’t work herself to death as Marinette. Or nearly get herself killed as Ladybug. One week where she didn’t do any favors, any designs, didn’t work in the bakery, didn’t save anyone. A week to relax. A week to meditate. A week to destress and just take care of herself. Just one week every year. To prepare for it she sent reminders to all her friends and family. She posted a flyer on the class bulletin board. Marinette finished all her commission and school work in advance.

She made Fu aware that Ladybug wouldn’t be active, told Chat Noir that Queen Bee would be his partner while she was gone. Marinette always made sure everyone was prepared for her absence. And made it clear that she would be unavailable. No matter what. She didn’t care if the world was ending.

However, this year was different than the ones that came before. For starters, Marinette now only had two or three good friends in class, and one or two mediocre ones. She only warned those three people. While she still posted her usual flyer, she had done it knowing it would be disregarded.

Marinette was no longer class president either; she no longer had to plan class trips, parties, or dances. Or anything of the sort. When she was class president, Marinette always made sure to plan her week off around the class’s busiest time of the year. That year, she didn’t have to so she didn’t. In fact, she planned her week off during the biggest dance of year, the class musical, the class’s big fundraiser. It was usually her most stressful week of the year.

Not this time.

On the Friday before her week off, Marinette reminded Bustier of her absence for the next week, and then walked out of class with a relieved smile on her face. She was almost there. Just two more days. She used her weekend to finish up any last minutes details of her vacations; confirm her reservation; spend most of the time with her parents.

And on the stroke of midnight that turned Sunday to Monday, Marinette got her bags, kissed her parents goodbye and was gone in her Uber. She knew how this week worked. By six am, the ‘emergency’ calls would start; everyone screaming fire. However, she wouldn’t be there to put them out, metaphorical fires or real ones.

Not today, Satan, Marinette thought.

Marinette got to the airport, slept on the plane ride, arrived at her luxury beach resort, a little after sunrise. She had saved up her money and did extra commissions all year to pay for it. It was beautiful. However, there was just one problem…

“Marinette, love!” Jagged called, somehow looking more awake in the wee hours of the morning than he did at 3 in the afternoon. Penny, however, looked half-asleep. Even Fangs slept on the luggage being moved by a rather fearful looking bellhop.

Marinette’s parents couldn’t get time off the bakery; it was their busiest time too. Her grandma was in Peru. Mariette needed an adult with her at the resort. Jagged happened to overhear her mother asking if she found a chaperone yet. It wasn’t like Marinette had any other options.

“I have so many Rockin’ plans!” Jagged said. “Scuba diving! Sky diving. Swimming with sharks. Parasailing! Bungee jumping!”

Marinette narrowed her eyes at her favorite rockstar and honorary Uncle, “Sleep.” She said.

Jagged waved her off, “We’ll sleep when we’re dead.”

“Sleep,” Marinette hissed darkly.

As amazing as that all sounded it could wait. Marinette was there to relax, not fight a shark. “Not today, Satan,” She whispered when she checked into her room. Leaving Penny to drag away a protesting Jagger to get some sleep as well. She called her parents to let her she had gotten there safely, called to re-confirm her spa reservation for that afternoon and then check her texts.

She had gotten quite a few as expected. Chloe wishing her a good vacation and promising to keep an eye on Chat. Luka sent her funny vacation memes. Nathaniel sent pics or didn’t happen texts; he found the possibility of Marinette all people actually taking a vacation hilarious and improbable. She’d show him though.

Then there were a few texts from her ex-friends. And it seemed like the fires had started…

When class started on Monday, most didn’t realize that Marinette wasn’t there until Bustier reminded Chloe to remind Chloe about the test next week. They all shrugged it off. Glad not to have to deal with the drama Marinette brought to class.

When Alya, the new class president, brought up the dance that Friday, things got a little tense.

“We need volunteers,” The glasses-wearing girl said. “People to decorate and to clean up and all that. We also need to get decorations.”

She received confused looks.

“Isn’t that your job?” Alix asked. “The class president does all that.”

Alya crossed her arms, “No it’s not my job. I organize and plan but I can’t do everything by myself.”

“Marinette did,” Kim shrugged. “It can’t be that hard.”

“Do you wanna do it?” Alya asked him but he quickly shook his head. “Thought so. We don’t have a big budget. So can anyone chip in for decorations and food?”

Mylene frowned, “Marinette made all the decorations and food.” They never had to chip in before. “Maybe she’d do it again.”

There were nods. They may not be friends with the girl anymore but she was still very helpful.

“OH! I need a dress,” Rose brightened up the room with her smile. “Marinette made mine last year. It was so beautiful. I’ll ask her to make another.”

A few of the girls said the same.

“Not gonna happen,” Chloe smirked. “You guys are on your own.”

Alya shot her a glare. “And we’ll be just fine.” She wasn’t happy about asking her ex-bestie for anything, anyway.

They were not fine.

Monday they had all talked a big game about not needing Marinette but by Tuesday, they realized that was a lie.

Because everything was falling apart.

Mylene’s musical was Friday, the day before the dance. More than half the class were either in it or helping with it. That meant Alya had barely any volunteers for the Dance committee. And had been reminded by Bustier about the annual fundraiser they did every year to pay for the class trip. Alya had been class president since the beginning of the year, and had been responsible for planning it. She had forgot all about it.

Alya was confident she managed though. They’d pull in enough money to pay for the entire trip and she’d get to rub it in Marinette’s face that no one needed. Alya hoped Lila was back in time from her trip with Prince Ali to see it.

In addition, neither she nor Bustier seem to remember that the fundraiser was always biggest because it was the last one of the year. Marinette usually had done several different ones by then.

Mylene was struggling. None of the sets were done. The costumes were terrible. The entire play seemed to be falling apart. They had forgot to only put up flyers promoting the play but they never even made them. She didn’t understand, normally everything would be going as smooth as silk by then. Silk…

“Marinette,” She gasped. Yes, she remembered, Marinette always helped out with the school plays. The Bluenette would fix the costumes. She’d even help out with the flyers and the set. Mylene pulled out her phone and quickly called her ex-friend. It went to voice mail. She frantically sent a dozen texts, all screaming emergency. But she never got a reply.

Marinette laid on the beach, drinking virgin Pina Colada, while talking with a boy she met while surfing and subtly eyeing him. He was a seventeen-year-old, tanned, dark haired Adonis, literally named Adonis. He was ripped in a way Marinette had only every previously seen on guys in magazines or on TV. Marinette was fifteen, (Sixteen in just a few months) had grown remarkably into her looks, and smirked a bit every time she caught Adonis eyeing her back.

“I got to go,” Adonis said. “Work.” He leaned a bit closer to Marinette. “If you wanna drop by, I wouldn’t mind. Maybe we can go for a swim together.”

Marinette flushed with excitement and blushed a lovely pink by the offer, “That sounds amazing! What do you do?”

He grinned a sparkling white smile that lit up his gray eyes, and caused Marinette to let out a dreamy sigh. “I work with my dad. We do underwater scuba tours and explore sea wildlife and dormant underwater volcanos. We just got be careful to avoid sharks.”

Marinette’s fell open, and she just stared at the older boy for a moment, “I’m a little busy today. But can we meet up later,” She squeaked.

They said they goodbyes. And once Adonis was out sight, Marinette’s eyes narrowed, “Not today, Satan.”

An image of the first time saw Adonis suddenly floated to the front of her mind. Adonis coming out of the water, with his surfer board and red swim trucks, running towards dry land.

Marinette took a deep breath to stead herself; fight the urge to go running after Adonis. Because there was no way in hell she was going to deal with a “Dormant” volcano. And she didn’t mess with sharks. Neither did Jagged anymore and he had to learn his lessons the hard way. He was lucky to come back with all his limbs.

By Wednesday, everyone was panicking. Alya refused to give in and attempted to rally her troops; with a divide and conquer plan. Lila had even come back early and graciously offered to take time away from her busy schedule to help. Alya decided they’d work on the play first. Then prepare for the dance, it shouldn’t take that long to decorate anyway, Alya had guess. Then finally they work on the fundraiser. Everything would go perfectly.

…Everything went wrong.

They worked the entire morning on the Mylene’s musical. They tried to work on the costumes. But they had no one who could fix the costumes. Any tailor they went to cost an arm and a leg. Lila’s personal tailor was away helping the Duchess of Manchester with her wedding dress. Max could print flyer but only generic ones. Not the creative ones Marinette had always made. And it wasn’t like they could ask Nathaniel for help without him spitting acid at them. The sets had to be rushed; and ended up poorly painted. Not even close to as good as the ones Marinette had help do the year before and even worse than the ones other classes had done. To make matters worse, the light fixtures they had installed started a small fire.

Mylene had a full blown panic attacked that caused one of the strongest Akuma Queen Bee and Chat Noir had ever faced.

The musical had taken up most of the day. So Alya and the class spent the rest of it and most of the night trying to prepare for the dance. The problem was their budget was small. Apparently it had always been that small which had shocked Alya and the others as they remembered the amazing dances Marinette had always thrown. The only decorations came from the local party story and were as cheap as possible. But they hadn’t gotten nearly enough when they got to gym and fully realize the size of it. But most of their budget was already shot on what they did get.

While for the last few years, Marinette’s had supplied most of the food for the dances from the bakery. It was clear to Alya that, it wouldn’t be happening. Most of the class had been banned from the shop. Alya ended up having to buy dollar store chips and drinks; and ended up with a cliché fruit punch bowl.

Everyone got in trouble with their parents for being out so late. Even if they had been at school. All the kids were exhausted and overly stressed. When Alya got home that night, she got a text from Nino that caused her to burst into tears. His DJ gear had fried. They had no music for the dance.

Not to mention Alya hadn’t even thought about the fundraiser. What was she going to do? What could she do?

Alya cried herself to sleep. Knowing that in the morning she’d have to swallow her pride and call in the big guns. She needed Marinette. They all did.

Marinette was having the time of her life. She laughed as let Heinrich and Mila twirl her around the dance floor. She was at a local teen club, out late, and truly partying for the first time in her life. He was a sixteen-year-old, six foot tall, blond, gorgeous fut-baller, with cheekbones that could cut glass. He had come to the city with his team for a charity match all the way from Germany. Mila was a beautiful redhead from Ireland, with startling blue eyes and a face dusted with freckles. She was a futballer too and was the most competitive person Marinette had ever met.

Marinette had met the futball players, the girls’ team and the boys’ team at the beach. When the girls realized they only had five plays to the boys’ six and needed another girl. They saw Marinette alone and invited her to play. They all had a blast. Afterwards, they invited her to the club that night.

Marinette had danced with everyone. However, somehow she had found herself smashed between Heinrich and Mila, more often than anyone else.

The three laughed their way off the dance floor when Tonya, a local girl with green hair, and a futballer herself, had waved them over.

“We’re going to Fairy Ridge,” Tonya shouted over the music.

Marinette’s interest was piqued. “Fairy Ridge?”

Tonya answered happily, “It’s beautiful at night. An underground cave, near the ocean. It has this opening at the top and you can see all stars. It has a bunch of colorful crystals that glow in the moonlight, and fill up the cave.”

“Sweet,” Mila said, her arm still around Marinette. “Sounds like a party, mate.”

Everyone agreed quickly. But Marinette wasn’t too sure. It was really late to the point where Jagged would be proud when she got back. Penny had made Marinette promise to avoid doing anything that would make Jagged proud; apart from the Bluenette’s usual awesomeness of course.

“You are coming, yes, Marinette?” Heinrich gave her his most charming smile that made Marinette go weak in the knees.

“Marinette, the ridge is so cool,” Tonya exclaimed, a bright smile on her face. “It’s supposed to be magic. They say fairies used to really live there. It’s cursed. They say all who enter are given a test of worth. Those who pass are stolen away to live under fae rule forever more as a fairy.”

Marinette just looked at her. She thought of Tikki, the small magical god of creation, who was enjoying her vacation in the luxury sweet as well. When Marinette left her, she had been in a bowl of cookies finally getting caught up on Game of Thrones. A god who’s power turned Marinette into a magical superhero. Magical was real. And if A kwami was real, fairies could be too.

The bluenette pursed her lips, and feigned a look of disappoint, “Sorry, guys. It’s so late. I’m already super passed my curfew. You guys go. We’ll hang tomorrow, okay?”

The other teens expressed their disappointment, though Mila and Heinrich tried to convince her a bit more as they left the club. Jagger’s personal driver already waited for her.

Once they had parted ways, Marinette got into the car and drove off. She waved brightly to the backs of the beautiful teens, “Not today, Satan.”

Thursday, the entire class was freaking out. They had all gotten there early, desperate to try to fix the mess they were in. Even Alya could admit she needed some serious help. They all waited for Marinette to show up. Surely, it had to be back by now, right? They needed her!

When the school bell rang starting class, and once again, Marinette didn’t appear. Alya nearly screamed. “Where is she?” She asked. “Marinette can’t miss this much school!”

“She’s not replying to my texts,” Mylene said, her eyes frantic with worry. Her boyfriend Ivan tried to calm her down.

“She never got back to me either,” Rose frowned. “Normally I’d get a bunch of questions asking about the style of wanted for my dress by now.”

Alya stomped her foot. “Marinette hasn’t answered a single of calls. What part of S.O.S doesn’t she understand? The dance is falling apart. I have no idea what to do about the fundraiser on Sunday. We need her. I swear if that girl lost her phone again…”

“You’ll do what?” Surprising it was Nathanial who asked this. There was silence at his questions. “That’s what I thought. You’ll do nothing. One, because you have no right to text the girl you disowned as a friend and ridiculed for the last year for help. Two, you couldn’t take Marinette in a fight with everyone in this class helping you. And three, you’re the one who turned down her offers to help all year; citing that you didn’t need her. You don’t get to beg for help at the last minute, and be surprised that she can’t do it.” The speech had turned into an angry rant by the end as the once quiet redhead glared at them with poorly concealed disgust.

Chloe knew bringing Nathanial into their fold had been a smart idea. She sent a vicious smile to the class, “Marinette’s on vacation. She won’t be back until Monday.” Chloe relaxed in her seat. “For her ex-friends; it’s her one week. You should know what that means”

There were gasps. Alya’s face drained of color. They all knew what that meant. Marinette was gone in the wind, and she wouldn’t come back or answer her phone even if fire rained from the sky as furbys finally revealed the truth of their evilness and declared themselves the new rules of earth.

They were on their own.

Lila watched with a frown as her classmates fell apart. She didn’t think this would happened when she got Alya to replace Marinette as class president. Who knew the idiots could survive without the girl?

“No dresses,” Rose realized. All the girls in class looked ready to cry. Marinette always made their dresses, always. What were they going to do? They never saved up any money for a dress because they never had to before.

Mylene started crying, “The play is ruined.” She sobbed. “I worked so hard on it.”

“What about the fundraiser?” Alix asked. “So much for going to New York or anywhere! Our class trip is ruined!”

Bustier looked at a loss of what to do as her student began to panic. “Now everyone calm down. Breath.” She said calmly. “It. Will. Be. Fine.”

Alya paced around the class, her hair wild, her eyes bloodshot from the lack of sleep. “Ok, we can do this! I can do this!” She hissed. “I don’t need Marinette. I’ve never needed Marinette!” She looked around at the class. “None of us do. Anything she can do, we can do better, right?” Some looked unsure but Alya manage to rally everyone. “We can get our own dresses!” She yelled. “We can decorate our own dance. We fix the school play. And we will do the fund raiser. Without her, who need that bully anyway?”

Nathaniel and Chloe shared a look and rolled their eyes. This would be good.

The next few days would go down in Bustier’s class history as the worst three days of the students’ lives. And the most embarrassing.

Barely anyone showed up for Mylene’s musical. None of the costumes were finished. The sets were a disaster. The actors were so frazzled, they couldn’t remember their lines. Three people walked out. One of them was Kim’s grandmother. Kim who had been one of the lead actors.

On the day of Mylene’s play, Marinette woke up from her second nap of day to Penny banging on her door. When the bluenette opened it, the woman screamed, “Get ready!”

“What?” Marinette yawned, still half-asleep.

“Get. Ready. Now,” Excitement shown in the older woman eyes. She bounced around the room, opened Marinette’s closet and started throwing out clothes. “Hurry!”

“Why?” It was her vacation. Marinette didn’t want to rush. Or move.

“Zac Efron,” Penny squealed. That got Marinette’s attention and it was all Marinette need to shoot to attention and start scrambling to get ready. “Tom Holland, and Zendaya are filming a movie on an island close by. Jagged got us passed to go set.”

As Marinette got dressed she asked, “What’s the movie about?”

Penny gave a dreamy sigh, “Pirates and adventures. It’s a musical. Zendaya plays a kickass pirate who takes control of her father’s ship after he dies to rescue her genius half-brother, played by Tom Holland, who managed to figure out the location of the greatest treasure in all of history, from the evil Pirate King, played by Zac Efron.”

“Now that’s a musical I’d watch,” Marinette finished her make up in the mirror.

“And get this!” Penny paused for dramatic effect. “Harry Styles is the love interest. He supposed to be on set sometime this week.”

Marinette screamed.

They took a helicopter to the island. It was the best day of her life. She got to meet the goddess that was Zendaya, Her real life prince charming Tom Holland, and the man of her dreams Zac Efron. They were nice. They were sweet. They took so many pictures and videos with her.

When Jagged mentioned Marinette designed most of his wardrobe. Marinette even got to show off her sketch book she had brought when the cast was too busy and it got boring. Zendaya commissioned a dress. She nearly right there.

Then the director got a call, “Okay Harry’s arrived. He’s waiting at the cave. Time to shoot the act 5, scene 1.”

They all moved to leave.

“Cave?” Marinette found herself asking.

Penny nodded, “Its historically accurate. The real life Captain Wolfblood, the guy who’s treasure everyone wants, supposedly buried his there. Pirates fought and died there all the time trying to find it. Supposed to be cursed. So whoever died was bound there for eternity; their ghosts protect the treasure. Killing all who enter their domain.”

Marinette found herself stopping in her tracks, “Pirate Ghosts.” She stated. “Cursed treasure.”

“Harry Styles…” Penny sang, causing Jagged to give her a sour look.

Harry Styles… For the first time that vacation Marinette was tempted to go. Tempted to risk pirates’ curses and murderous ghosts just to see the man who had caused ten-year-old Marinette to write Mrs. Harry Styles in her diary for a month.

“I actually have to facetime my parents,” Marinette frowned. “Reception terrible out here.”

After promising to meet them for dinner, Marinette booked it off the island. As it faded from sight, and all her wishes of being the future Mrs. Harry Styles burned, she whispered, “You stepped of your game. I’m impressed.” She glared at the window. “But Not today, Satan.”

The dance was a catastrophe. Everyone in class could admit to that. All the girls wore their dresses from the year before. For the first time, there was no live performance. Just Nino’s play music from his phone. Until it died midsong. They forgot to get helium for the balloons, so they had to blow them up themselves. The chips were stale. The punch tasted like rotten bananas. No one alerted the proper staff regarding the dance so no one warned the janitor not to wax the gym floor the night before. Five kids hurt themselves. Alya forgot to get chaperones. And found Damocles and Mendeleiev shut down the entire dance before it even got passed its first hour.

The night of the dance would go down as the best night of Marinette’s life. The director from the day before had liked Marinette so much that gave her the role of Lunaris, mermaid princess, originally played by an actress who had backed out of the role at the last second. Like literally right before they were supposed to shoot her scenes. It was a small role; Marinette didn’t have many lines and only two songs to herself (and fillers song lines throughout the movie). Plus she died. (The entire part took five days to film, and Marinette ended up staying on her vacation an additional two days. Her parents instantly approved; wanting their daughter away from the drama of her ex-friends. However, Marinette would be called in for additional reshoots and scenes, a month later. Then more after that as they would expand her role) She spent the entire time in a mermaid costume. Up until the last act of the movie.

However, her character was in love with Harry Styles’ character, a mermaid prince who became human for chance to win the love of Zendaya’s character. Her character more or less had been the prince’s childhood best friend who never admitted to being in love with him until it was too late. She had spent the entire movie supporting him to win the main character’s heart. Her first song was sang as she helped him escape the underwater kingdom to go to his true love while she hid her own; choosing to put him before herself. The next day it was revealed that they were supposed to have been betrothed and united their kingdoms. Her second song happened after she chose to fight on land to save her friend and taking a killing blow for him; she died singing to the prince about not waiting to tell someone you love until its’ too late; especially if the love’s worth dying for. Or walking on land for.

After shooting her scenes for the day; she was invited by the cast to go meet Chris Heimsworth who was vacationing at a nearby island resort. They were going to go budging jumping of the highest mountain on the Island, near shark infested waters. Again Marinette only had one thing to say to that, “Not today, Satan.” She was not going to fight a shark. Not that week. No matter how much she loved Thor. (She’d later find out Tom Hiddleston was there and cry.)

The fundraiser had cost more than it raised. That was all anyone was willing to say on the subject. Particularly Alya who was missing her eyebrows.

The day of the fundraiser, the Day Marinette was supposed to return home, was bliss. At the end of it, Marinette found herself watching the sunset with Jagged and Penny.

“We should visit mermaid isle,” Penny suggested. “I heard it’s magical. There’s a spot that grants wishes… At a price.”

Marinette didn’t bother to ask for anymore. She just smiled, “Not today, Satan.”

The next morning, the Monday Marinette should have already been back home, instead she was getting ready to shoot some more scene for the movie. Then she got a call.

“Hey Marinette!” Kimi, the director, said. “We were hoping you could come in early today. We have to shoot your death scene.”

“Oh! Sweet! Where?”

“Shark cove. It will be perfect,” Kimi said cheerfully. “This time before your last breath, Harry’s going to kiss you goodbye. So eat a mint.”

Marinette mind froze. Kiss… Harry? “Shark cove?”

“Yeah, we’ll have to be careful not to attract any, you know?” Kimi sighed. “It’ll be a bit dangerous. You okay with that?”

The bluenette wanted to scream no way. But it was a new week. “I’m there,” She said firmly. For a kiss from Harry Styles, she’d do anything.

Vacation time was over. Marinette was going to fight a shark.

When Marinette returned to school on Wednesday, it was to the frustrated faces of her classmates. None of them talked to her. Just glared coldly. Though Alya did give her a sarcastic, welcome back.

Marinette just shrugged and went to sit at her desk next to Chloe and Nathaniel, who were both grinning.

“How was it?” Marinette asked them.

Nathaniel smirked, “Epic! Three fires. Two poisonings. A kid broke his leg. Four more ended up in the emergency room.”

“The play was a disaster,” Chloe added. “The dance was shut down after an hour. The fire department came to the so called fund raiser. You were gone for little more than a week and these morons nearly got themselves killed like four times.”

“We got in on video!” Nathaniel laughed.

Marinette laughed.

She looked at the stressed and embarrassed students of Bustier’s class, even the teacher looked worse for wear.

Marinette smirked.

Somebody obviously needed a vacation. Or rather… Everybody.

#ml salt #ml fic #marinette dupen chang #Marinette deserves better

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muse-oleum · 4 years

Text

The Flower Shop, part 3

Kingsman - Harry Hart x Fem!OC

Part 1; Part 2; Part 3;

Hey folks! Here’s the third installment of my series. I hope you enjoy it! We’re getting into it, finally. Also, I’ve just added another prompt list that you can find here, go give me some inspiration!

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: none

The camelias shivered in the evening wind. By their place on the windowsill, they overlooked the entire room, with its large bed, desk and the man sitting there.

Harry’s books and notebooks had all been lost when his house was bombed to the ground, so he’d had to start again. Over the course of the past few weeks, he had purchased several anthologies and was still looking for new publications on the subject of entomology.

He missed his old notebooks, relying entirely on the scribbled pages of the battered pad he’d used during his time away.

Harry rarely referred to his time as an amnesiac entomologist as anything else except his “time away.” He was still grappling with the strange sensation of having recovered his life but he wasn’t so sure now, after so many months wishing for freedom to go find his butterflies, which life he wanted to lead.

Kingsman had been his home for decades, ever since he’d left the army to become a secret agent. But before that? He’d been so invested in becoming an entomologist that it almost surrounded him in a shroud of wing dust for the rest of his career. His home was full of them; his head was full of them; and his heart was full of them.

None of his friends had ever understood his passion for the small insects. To be honest, Harry himself did not understand it fully.

His father had been very fond of gardening, and his mother never allowed him to squash any insects he found in his room. Even if it was the biggest spider in the world - at least to the eyes of a little boy - she would just pick it up in a tissue and let it free outside. He had always supposed his interest came from them. But now, looking back on how he had cleaved to his ephemeral friends, he wondered if the root for his interest did not run deeper.

Perhaps he was fascinated by their transience? The manner in which their sense of purpose carried them to their death? He envied that. The whole of the animal kingdom, except humans, seemed to have a purpose. Harry had lost his and didn’t know how to regain it.

Sighing, he turned off the nightstand lamp, plunging the room into darkness. Before falling asleep, he remembered his promise to Rebecca to come fix her garden shed. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. At least, he had that to look forward to tomorrow.

Monday ----, 9 a.m

The chime of the doorbell accompanied Harry’s entrance into the flower shop. At the end of a cold February month, the sight of so many blooms was a welcome start to his day.

“You’re an early riser!”

Rebecca stood at her cluttered counter, snipping twigs off small branches. Harry watched, strangely fascinated, as she arranged them in an elegant bouquet. She seemed to know just where to place them.

“It’s for a wedding,” she said, matter of factly. “Apparently, the bride is fond of forest weddings and decided to go for a woodland theme.”

“A forest wedding in February? Good luck to them.”

Her singsong laugh echoed through the shop.

“Yes, the groom seemed rather resigned, poor chap. Let me just finish with this one and then we can go look at the shed.”

Harry followed, calling after her, “I didn’t bring any tools, I hope you’ve got something I can work with?”

Rebecca popped her head out of the shed. “Come and have a look for yourself. It’s in quite a state, but it still stands. My dad was strangely proud of that.”

Harry fit his broad-shouldered frame inside the small shed as best he could without towering above her. Rebecca caught his eye as he attempted to squeeze himself in, chuckling slightly.

The shed was small, built out of wood that had begun rotting many years ago. Daylight filtered through cracks along the walls and dust shimmered in the air. In the corner, a box of tools, its bright red colour contrasting strangely with its surroundings, was waiting patiently for its next use. Rebecca had arranged a large pile of fresh wood and wooden panels next to it, probably to restore the cracked walls.

“It’s dismal, I know, but the roof is still in a really good state so i’d hate it to collapse entirely.”

Harry gently pushed against the walls. The wood cracked and moaned but it held. The problem was the rot, which had weakened the overall structure.

“I’m afraid if you want it to stand for any number of years, we have to tear it down completely first. The wood is rotting. Best to rebuild entirely.”

Rebecca nodded, biting her lips nervously.

“I don’t want to ask you to do that, I thought it just needed a few repairs. But tearing it down and rebuilding it is a job for my brother; he loves to demolish things to rebuild them.”

A small part of Harry’s heart - which he refused to acknowledge - rebelled at the idea.

“Nonsense, I said I’d help and I will. We will just need a lot more wood than that.”

Wednesday, some weeks later ----, 6 pm

Dropping by Rebecca’s shop had become part of Harry’s routine. Nearly everyday after work, he’d go in, buy a few flowers and go. Every weekend, he’d drop by and work on the shed. He was grateful for the distraction it provided and, slowly, began to acknowledge that Rebecca had wormed her way into his heart.

Harry Hart had never dared to think too much about love. The Kingsman code was explicit: no attachments, no weaknesses. Eggsy and, on occasion, Merlin, had expressed how incredibly stupid and bigoted the Gentleman Guide was but the former Arthur had been uncompromising.

Kingsman was slowly adapting and changing, especially after Poppy’s missile catastrophe. A new Arthur had yet to be found but under the capable supervision of the older agents, amongst which Harry and Merlin, the newer recruits were coming into their own. Kingsman was still not operating at full capacity, what with the HQ and the London shop in ruins, but it was getting there.

Exhausted, Harry shook out his umbrella outside the shop before coming in, tucking it neatly in a corner. It had been a long day: recruits to assess, Merlin to check on (he was adjusting to his wheelchair but threw a few dignified Scottish tantrums along the way) and paperwork to work through.

The smell of freshly cut flowers greeted him and, immediately, he felt better. March had brought an early spring and the blooms were peeking shyly from under their green little sprouts.

Harry heard a commotion in the back room and, nerves on alert, made his way slowly towards the garden. Carefully popping his head in, he saw Rebecca, on the ground, looking under the sofa and murmuring soft words of encouragement. Eventually, a small kitten emerged, sniffing her fingers curiously. He meowed a few times, noticing Harry by the door, and meowed even louder, asking for food.

“I believe this little lad is hungry.”

Rebecca gasped, nearly bumping her head on the sofa.

“Harry! You scared the living daylights out of me!”

He held his hands up, taking one step in, chuckling slightly.

“My apologies. You looked terribly busy.”

The shabby little cat, meanwhile, completely disinterested in the antics of those two humans, had made his way towards the kitchen, no doubt drawn to the smell of soup hanging in the air. One or two loud meows later, a large bowl full of ham and leftover meat had been placed for him by the table and he happily forgot all about everything else.

“I found him in the street this afternoon. It was cold and he was shivering and crying, so I brought him in. He wasn’t a fan of being carried somewhere new and he hid under that couch for a solid hour before you came in.”

“Well, he’s one lucky cat.”

Rebecca laughed softly and shook her head, her long curls bouncing around her forehead. Harry resisted the urge to tuck one behind her ear. Tying an apron around her waist, she made her way towards the stove to check on the soup.

Harry observed her, sleeves rolled up to reveal creamy skin, feet tapping lightly to no rhythm in particular, curls pinned up by a clip, out of the way. He felt his heart give a little tug and, unable to stop himself, took a few steps towards her.

She didn’t seem to notice, absorbed in diagnosing what exactly was missing from the soup. The warm smell of tomatoes made Harry’s mouth water. He could tell what was missing from that distance.

“Have you added basil?”

She looked up at him, noticing his closeness, and a pretty blush spread over her cheeks. She tasted one more spoonful before smiling broadly, dashing out of the door and back again. She came back with a shriek, shaking the droplets out of her hair. Harry couldn’t contain his smile.

Suddenly, as she was taking off her boots, a sparkling flash of blue caught Harry’s eye. Looking more closely, he froze. There were two blue butterflies, Adonis blues, flying around her head. One settled into the mass of pinned curls, the other kept looking for a perch.

Harry’s heart soared. how he had missed his butterflies! Their gentle movements mesmerized him and, unconsciously, he took a step forward. He didn’t notice the curious look Rebecca shot him when he reached up to touch one of the butterflies. She didn’t stop him, didn’t move, as if she knew something was happening that she couldn’t see.

Harry felt the flutter of the butterfly’s wings on his fingers and smiled. Rebecca had never seen him smile like that before. He had never smiled happily, always offered small, sad, smiles. She wondered what it was that made him so happy tonight.

The moment ended when their eyes met, Harry blushing furiously and taking a step back; Rebecca reaching up to touch her hair, her blush deeper than before.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“I’ve never seen you smile like that.”

Her tone was curious, not displeased. Harry couldn’t help but answer honestly:

“There were butterflies around your head. Blue ones. I’ve always loved blue butterflies.”

Rebecca frowned slightly. Butterflies? In this season? Surely that was impossible, and she would have seen them. Harry lowered his eyes to the ground, realizing how utterly mad that must have sounded. He was ready to take his leave when she said:

“I love blue butterflies too.”

Taglist: @justawriterinprogress; @tonystrksslut; @emilyyblackkk; the-sea-belt; @flybi91

Comment below if you want to be added to my HH taglist!

#harry hart #kingsman #harry hart x oc #harry hart x reader #harry hart x fem!oc #the flower shop #part 3 #original work #kingsman: the secret service #Kingsman: the golden circle #fanfiction #kingsman fanfiction #original character #original female character

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horansqueen · 4 years

Text

Vote For My Next Story

I'll try to keep this short. YOU&ME has ended, and it was a big part of the last few years of my life (along with AM Conversations). It'll probably always be my favorite and best story but that doesnt mean i want to stop writing.

please, know that the oneshots ideas are independent from the story ideas, meaning that i can write a story AND oneshots at the same time so let me know if youre interested!

(click on the read more to read the 10 synopsis of the story ideas I’d like to write)

AM Conversations & YOU&ME ideas:

-oneshots ideas for what happened after the story, before the story, or even in-between chapters in the story. you can send me ANY idea that you would want to read between Liv and Niall or other characters.

-oneshots ideas for any "what if" you can think of (i.e. what if one of them didnt love the other, what if they hadnt seen each other at the bakery, what if Liv had dated Louis, etc)

NEW STORY IDEAS:

NOTES:

all the ideas are AU.

#2 #8 and #9 will include a few of the 1D boys.

despite the title, #4 is a Niall fic

titles may change

VOTE HERE!!!!

you can also vote by messaging me.

in the form, theres a place for comments but you dont have to leave any

you also dont have to leave your name or anything

thank you if you vote, it means a lot to me!

ill keep this open for a while, until i get enough votes :)

1- UNPREDICTABLE

They haven't seen each other since high school and they hadn't missed each other at all. In fact, they never really could stand each other. Her, a bit of a rebel, listening to punk music, searching for trouble whenever she could... and him, the good boy, popular and loved by everyone, who could rarely be seen without his guitar. It's been a few years already but not many things had changed and they still didn't have anything in common... except one thing. Both of them aspired to become famous with their music. With a twist of fate, they end up in each other's lives again and if they can put aside their resentment for one another, maybe they could bring something incredibly precious to each other. But nothing has ever been uncertain.

This is the story of two opposite persons who share a burning passion that may slowly bring them closer... or make the hatred they already feel for each other even more intense.

2- D.N.A. (daddies now available)

The test was positive. I was pregnant. The problem was, I didn’t know who the father was. It could be my ex boyfriend Liam, his best friend Niall or my best friend Louis. Or maybe it could be that boy I randomly had sex with, Harry... I had no idea and I was not going to find out soon.¸

All I knew was I had to tell four boys that there was a possibility for them to be a daddy in less than a year. Can you just imagine their reaction?

Contrary to all expectations, they accepted their fates.. somehow. And no matter who his daddy was, “little human” was going to get a lot of attention from a lot of men. Exactly like me.

This is my pregnancy story. And it was just the beginning of a long journey.

3- MEANT TO BE

When they first met, Louis was all *MAIN GIRL* ever wanted. However, a decade later the high school sweethearts had change and she felt like most of the sparkles she once had were now gone. Then she met Niall and it clicked instantly and intensely and since then, they’ve been seeing each other in secret, lying to their whole entourage about the nature of their relationship. Feelings started to grow, things started to change, and maybe, just maybe, it’s meant to be. Or maybe not.

A tale of broken hearts, unforgettable love and many… way too many lies.

4- LIVING WITH LOUIS TOMLINSON

Call me Queen Catastrophe. I lost my job, my boyfriend, my best girl friend and my apartment on the same day. Just a little friday afternoon like all the others, right?

Thank god, my best friend Louis was there to save the day. Nothing unusual. I was supposed to crash at his apartment for one night and then walk on my pride and go back to my parents to admit how much of a failure I really am.

However, Louis had other plans : he wanted me to move in with him. That’s when my story really starts. Mutual feelings, drunken sex, grocery shopping, fights that end up with porcelain thrown around the kitchen (I’m an intense person, I know) but most of all, his best guy friend stealing his (our, now) couch at least 5 nights a week.

I despise Niall Horan with all my heart. Him and his stupid charm, his flirty smile and his hands that always ended up in places they shouldn’t. He was threatening to come between Louis and I. He was slowly taking more space in our apartment… and in my heart.

Fuck, I hate Niall Horan with a passion.

5- FOR YOUR LOVE

After months of trying to get pregnant, Niall and his long-time girlfriend found out she was sterile. The news obviously shook their relationship and sparked a few arguments but after a long discussion, they found only one solution : hire a surrogate mother. As days go by, Niall's relationship gets harder and harder to save, and his connection with the surrogate mother of his child becomes tighter. Soon, he gets caught in feelings he can't explain and definitely can't understand. But life is not as easy as just following your feelings.

A story of unsettling feelings, confusing relationships, a deep and strong connection but mostly, decisions impossible to make. Can this really end well?

6- DATING FOR DUMMIES

*MAIN GIRL* has tried blind dates, dating apps, and speed dating to find her soulmate with no good result. Niall has tried pretty much the same without much more success. With all the bizarre, creepy and incompatible persons they meet, they're so close to give up on love until they meet each other through a friend. After a bottle of wine and a long discussion, they start thinking that maybe they were the problem, and that they're too dumb for dating. That's when they decide to make a list of what they individually want and need on a first date and finally decide to try it together. Unfortunately, things rarely go as planned and they will both realize that feelings can't be controlled.

When all else fails, the solution will always be to follow your heart.

7- THE BREAK-UP PLAN

*MAIN GIRL* and Niall's relationship had started when they had barely entered their teenager years. Now, over 10 years later, they feel like something is missing. They didn't know anything else besides each other and it had to change. They still planned on spending forever together but their lack of experiences and mistakes seemed to be an obstacle between them.

They agreed on break that was not really a break. for six whole months, they would be able to do whatever they wanted to do with whoever they wanted to. Going to parties, leaving for a whole weekend with friends without giving any news, dating and even screwing whoever they wanted, nothing was out of reach.

They only had one rule : honesty. Every friday night, they'd meet and spend the whole night together, talking, making out or just cuddling until they'd fall asleep, to make sure their love was preserved.

Unfortunately, things rarely go as planned and seeing the person you love the most in the world be happy without you is something almost impossible to accept.

A story about angry tears, painful jealousy, sweet sweet revenge and realizing who your real soulmate is. Watch out, it's gonna hurt.

8- HOT MESS

*MAIN GIRL* has always been a bit of a rebel who didn't really care about much. She just enjoyed life the way she wanted to and never really paid attention to anything else. If she wanted something, she did everything she could to get it, no matter who she'd hurt in the process. After a few years away from her hometown, family and friends, she finally comes back to realize that a lot of things have changed. Jumping in her twin brother Liam's life without being invited, she's about to make a mess of everything he had made so much effort to build by flirting with every single one of his friends without any shame. She's not looking for a relationship, she's just looking to have some fun and break a few hearts... but perhaps, she's about to make a mess of her own heart.

Sometimes, you play the game and some other very rare times, the game plays you.

9- 15 Complicated Rules

I have no idea how I got into this mess but somehow, I ended up with 4 different fuck buddies. I thought I was going crazy until I made a strict schedule of the days and time I would see them, and wrote down a few rules I had to respect myself. A useful guide to manege my 4 fuck friends. Monday for my ex boyfriend, tuesday for my co-worker, wednesday for my old best friend and thursday for a family friend. It could work, right?

I've never been much of an organised person but I honestly thought I could make this work. Everything went as planned for a few months until I broke one rule after the other. That's when I knew I was in deep shit. These are my 15 complicated rules to have fuck buddies. And this is the story of my downfall and the incredible mess I put myself into. After all, rule 15 was 'Never Fall In Love' and I guess that's something I couldn't control, even if I wanted to.

10- DISCONNECTED

When *MAIN GIRL* switches college to finally follow her dreams, she was ready to face anything and everything that would come her way. After all, she had been through so much already, right? The problem was, she didn't expect to be stuck in a room with someone who gets on her last nerves because of a paperwork mistake. Despite trying to find an other place to live or spend her time talking to the administration, she had to face the fact that this situation wouldn't change for a few months. Niall knew how to piss her off and he clearly abused that superpower, doing anything and everything he can to annoy the most pretentious and stuck-up person he had ever met. Perhaps fate is having a good laugh, because they seem to get stuck together way more often than not, but it's not until they let down their defense that they will see who the other really is... if that ever happens.

Apparently, some people are in your life to teach you something and make you grow. Perhaps, if you take the time to listen to them and open up to them, your karmic soulmate can turn into your twin flame... or not.

11- NEW ANGEL

When *MAIN GIRL 1* breaks up with Niall, he takes it harder than he thought he would, realizing in the process all the feelings he had for her. After a few weeks locked by himself in his room, his friends take him out on a crazy night and he decides he needs someone else, if only to get over the girl he loves. That’s when he meets *MAIN GIRL 2* and bring her back home. However, on the next morning, he realizes he doesn't want her to leave, and that despite the feelings he has for *main girl 1*, he could definitely develop something with *main girl 2*. Everything is going amazingly well for a few weeks until what Niall never thought would happen actually happens : *main girl 1* calls him to tell him she regrets leaving him. Now confused and stressed, Niall is going to have to make a choice between the girl he thought he'd spend his life with, and a girl he just met that makes his heart race. And he's going to get help on his journey from someone he would never have thought of.

A story about making choices, creating connections, messy hearts and confusing emotions.

(i have many ideas for this one but i dont want to give everything away!)

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white-collar-lawmen-and-conmen · 4 years

Text

Bite (Part Two)

Summary: Peter’s team is invited onto a big case in which their involvement will have serious consequences. (Part 2/3)

Word Count: 6,323

Warning: Brief mention of hard drugs and their abuse.

“Stupid me,” you grumbled, grabbing your bottles of sparkling cider and shoving them back into your bottom left desk drawer. “I should never get cocky.” The glimmering, golden, spiralized ribbons wrapped around their necks felt like they were particularly insulting. It took a lot of self-control not to grab your scissors and snip them off for the trash.

You’d been so excited for the case to end. So, so excited for the case to finally be over and things in the office to go back to normal, and for you to finally have that talk you and Neal decided to put off for “later”. Now you had share-size bottles of cider and a big case of plastic cups in your desk and no reason to share it and get it out.

“Y/N,” Diana said, watching you move with terse movements. “It could’ve gone so much worse.”

You knew that. Damn it, you knew that, you did, but you still didn’t feel much better. Neal was still alive, but your victory was taken away. Instead of being held accountable for his actions, Brady got to just take a permanent escape. There was no retribution, there was no restitution. No justice for the man he murdered or for any of the poor victims who made the mistake of trusting him. You put all your energy, all your time into this freaking case and now it was all for nothing because the coward preferred to die than go to prison, and had threatened to kill in order to force Peter to honor his wish.

Diana spoke again, trying to get your attention. “Neal could be hurt a lot worse.”

“Yeah, Di, I know he could’ve been,” you said through gritted teeth. “I still wish that ass were still here so I could kick him in the goddamn face for putting a knife to my friend’s throat.”

~~~ Bite ~~~

Brady tried to arrange a meeting as soon as possible, but Neal, playing his enthusiasm down to be sure not to jump too high, managed to delay the second rendezvous to Wednesday afternoon. According to the artist, the embezzler wasn’t happy with waiting but had more decorum than to insist that a man not even in his employ drop everything when called, and this gave you time to implement the operation you had spent the last week preparing for.

Peter had a thorough game plan. Neal as going to be wearing a wire fully concealed by his clothes, and the techs knew to thread the microphone so that it was covered by his tie in case he was patted down. Stealth aside, Peter, Madeline, and Ruiz were all confederates in Brady’s company suite, Damien had the back exits and fire escape covered, Matt and Diana were in the lobby looking busy, and you and Jones were in the van, coordinating all teams.

You had executed plenty of highly successful operations before with less manpower, but this one somehow went so wrong that you weren’t even sure how. Neal went in without even acknowledging your confederates, and he arrived separately from your unmarked vehicles. There was nothing linking him to the bureau. Brady received him with the smarmiest facsimile of hospitality you’d ever heard and invited him into his office.

The first five minutes were tense for all of you. You, especially, were feeling particularly wound up. Fidgeting your knee made Jones give you a look, but not being able to do anything was one of the worst assignments you could have possibly gotten. Neal made friendly with Brady, and Brady brought up how there was a fed questioning his practices. Peter made a petty comment which somehow helped to relax your nerves, and Brady hypothetically asked Neal what experience he might have with nosy feds.

After that, it went quiet. To occupy yourself, you imagined what expressions Neal might be making, what gestures, what body language he was using to say-without-saying that the feds weren’t as smart as he was.

The quietness lasted too long. Twenty seconds. Thirty.

“Is anyone else hearing anything?” Matt asked with his voice low, calm but concerned.

You turned on the switch allowing for you and Jones to talk over the communicators. “Our bugs aren’t the problem,” you answered to everyone, glad that someone else was the one to ask. Even after you responded, there was still no noise from Neal, or anyone in the office with him. “Damien?”

“Here,” Ruiz’s agent reported.

You frowned nervously. Something was off. “Neal, if you can hear, cough.”

There was still nothing – not just the absence of a cough, but the absence of any audio at all. It sounded louder than anything before it had, like white noise. With the rest of the earpieces fully functional, that made it clear something was very wrong.

“Peter, how far are you from the office?” Jones asked, standing up as you did the same and getting his sidearm from the collapsible table.

No answer came, even when Jones tried again, this time asking for Ruiz, and then for Madeline. Diana answered when prompted, but none of the wires in Brady’s suite were responding.

~~~ Bite ~~~

CSI found a signal jammer in one of Brady’s desk drawers after the body had been taken away, which explained why you had lost contact with your team. As soon as your team leaders realized that they couldn’t contact Neal or any of their backup, they stormed the office.

You got the chance to read Peter’s statement. He had moved impulsively, rashly, before Ruiz had made the same call. He was the first to enter, and he had kicked the door in to do so. Neal had been put down on his knees with a bloody lip, and the embezzler had held a sharp hunting knife to Neal’s throat. Neal was begging him not to do it. Your heart clenched when you read and it almost made you put the paper down, but it had gone so far sideways that you needed to know in case you were facing a review. Once Brady saw Peter’s gun and knew that he wasn’t leaving, he raised the knife and charged the agent. Peter had to shoot him twice before he fell, and he was dead before Ruiz got into the room.

Neal was able to report later that he had been made since before he even entered the building. It wasn’t a problem with the specific operation – it was that Seamus Brady had known exactly what Neal and Peter were up to, and he had turned the tables, using the con to lure Neal into an ambush. Ruiz went on what you would call a rampage and if Peter hadn’t been busy making sure that Neal was okay, and stunned by the blood on his own hands, you were sure he would’ve been laying into everyone, too. There had to be a leak somewhere in the bureau, either in the WCCD or in Organized Crime. Hughes heard the case, heard Neal was sent to the hospital and Peter had been forced to fire, and ordered everyone off. Ruiz’s division chief did the same, and the two together disbanded the Brady task force.

Neal went to the hospital to be checked out and was released within a few hours. Peter drove him home and then went back to Brooklyn, where he called in on Thursday and claimed to be sick. No one bought it, but no one bought him on it, either. Peter hadn’t done anything wrong, but the cost of protecting himself was staggering, and in your division you rarely, if ever, had such an event occur. No one could blame the man for wanting to stay home with Elizabeth for a day or two. Similarly, Hughes called Neal and said that he didn’t need to come in on Thursday, and on Friday morning, Neal called in sick, as well.

A brass from over Hughes’ head came and questioned Peter’s team that Friday. You, Diana, and Jones put your heads together so you could give as clear a picture as you could, but you had missed so much that all you could really offer was a photocopy of the statement Peter wrote and a promise to forward one of Neal’s once the conman issued his own. You went to Organized Crime for just a couple of minutes, saw Madeline at her desk, and compared notes. The same steps were being taken in their division as in yours, but they had even less to offer because Ruiz had been behind.

Peter and Neal both returned to the office on Monday. Peter had rebounded, for the most part, but Neal looked like he had hardly slept. It didn’t help that OPR also came to the WCCD on Monday, opening an investigation into who tipped off Brady. Your brain knew that the vast majority of OPR agents were well-intentioned and following orders, but after everything that happened with Fowler, having them around made you feel like your office had a roach problem.

The entire week passed in slow motion, and as it did, you watched Peter grow both stable and weary – stable as he accepted what he had been forced to do, and weary as he accepted that, yet again, he had to look over his shoulder for a traitor within the bureau. It was a heavy weight on all of you, but none of you felt it more than the Burke-Caffrey duo, and you wished you knew how you could help. While Peter at least recovered from the ambush itself, you saw Neal moving in the opposite direction. He pulled away from everyone, preferring quiet and solitude. He was willing to spend time with Peter during lunch breaks, and make small talk when prompted, but he didn’t act like the social butterfly he usually was and he didn’t return your friendly attempts at flirting.

It hurt to watch him withdraw. You hadn’t seen him doing such a thing since Kate had died, but even this was on a completely different dimension. When the jet exploded, Neal emotionally withdrew but he wanted to seem like he was fine. He slapped on a veneer of happiness to hide the anger and devastation, and he used friendships to distract himself from how badly it hurt to be alone with his thoughts. This was different – he was physically present, but he wasn’t making any attempts at acting as he normally did.

While waiting for the Brady case to make another move, you had started to complain to yourself that your “later” wasn’t going to ever come. Now, as he turned down offers to leave the building for lunch, failed to reciprocate any signs of interest, and rebuffed any attempts to have a conversation that didn’t strictly revolve around work, you were thinking that it really might not ever happen. Worse than thinking that the romantic potential might go unfilled was the hurt you felt at the threat of losing a good friend.

The second week after Neal was ambushed, OPR left the WCCD in peace without any answers as to who betrayed the team, Peter was able to lower his figurative hackles, and Neal started to reengage – but, like with Kate, it was just a veneer. He started to banter with Peter and talk to you, but nothing went deeper than the surface and even though he acted like normal, happy, healthy Neal Caffrey, that was all it was. Acting.

It wasn’t up to you to decide how quickly he needed to get over a near-death experience, and you knew that. You never thought you had the right to try. But, you did have the right to worry, as long as you didn’t shove it onto him, and so you worried to yourself while keeping your eyes on him. Unfortunate as it was, Neal was no stranger to near-death experiences. When you compared what happened during that case to what had almost happened in the past, you couldn’t understand why it would have shaken him up so much. Getting a bullet blocked by a Bible in front of his chest, having the air sucked out of a sealed room, almost boarding a doomed plane, being in an apartment with an assassin, confronting and being placed in a variety of nearly-fatal situations by Adler, and a number of other close calls hadn’t shaken him up for more than a couple days, so it mystified you how one sole creep with a knife had a more profound impact on Neal than losing Kate.

~~~ Bite ~~~

After two weeks, you were done thinking about “later”. You would’ve happily taken what you had before it went down and been grateful to have the old Neal back. You laid in bed on Saturday night wondering who you would find when you went to work the next Monday. Would your friend be back at his desk, or was it going to be the shellshocked victim? If it were the latter, was he going to be ready to accept the support that you had already tried to offer?

While thinking about him, you did come to an important epiphany. You figured out what made this near-death experience so much worse than the others: someone Neal trusted had been the one to cause it. Brady had held the knife and he was guilty of all of his actions, for sure, but he wouldn’t have lured out and tried to hurt Neal if it hadn’t been for someone in the FBI tipping him off to the operation. Neal had come to respect the individuals who worked in the division, and although he wasn’t going to try to move into the office, he felt comfortable and safe within its walls. That sense of safety had been ripped away, and he didn’t have the option of avoiding the space that now felt dangerous.

You should’ve thought of it sooner. OPR had made your skin crawl, but you had been focusing your energy on the wrong thing. A leak in the office unsettled you, but you had a clean record, no gripes with anyone, and your neck wasn’t sticking out off a perilous ledge. You had no reason to fear the leak except for on the basis of principle. Neal, however, had a felony conviction, a long list of people who may want him hurt or dead on principle or for revenge, and was frequently enlisted as the WCCD’s personal piece of criminal bait.

What would it feel like to not feel safe at work? To know there was a knife in your back and not know who put it there? If you were in his position, you thought that paranoia might be crippling. You also thought you’d have no choice but to rely emotionally on your friends, the ones you knew for certain would never harm you, not withdraw from them. Surely Neal knew some people that it wasn’t – Peter, whom he’d known in one capacity or another for going on a decade; Diana and Jones, for almost two years. Certainly, he knew you’d never try to get him killed. Maybe you didn’t have as long of a history as he had with Peter, but you had a history, nonetheless, and it was a good one. If anyone were going to rat him out, it would have to be someone from Ruiz’s side of the task force, or maybe someone who accessed the plans and files without actually being assigned to the team.

Fear wasn’t rational, you knew that, and you knew Neal did, too. He was too clever about people not to know how powerful emotions could be. That didn’t mean it was a good thing for him to be socially isolating himself to any degree. Cases like this were when he should be keeping closer to his friends than ever. If he wasn’t sure about who those friends were, then you were just going to have to show him.

You woke up early on Sunday morning and Googled a few minutes to find a breakfast restaurant in Neal’s radius that looked particularly delicious, and then you made the trip to the west side of Manhattan as the sun was still rising. You couldn’t keep waiting for him to get better and pretending to be fooled by the way he acted like he was fine at work. He was your friend, damn it, and friends took friends out for breakfast and made them talk when they were distressed. Neal had had more than two weeks to come around on his own. Time to give him a gentle push. If he were reticent, then you’d just have to push a little harder and prove you’d catch him. Like an emotional trust fall.

It was a little after seven when you got to June’s. You weren’t trying to blitz attack Neal, but you did want to get to him before he left the house on his own plans. One of June’s cars was gone, so you pulled into the driveway, knowing you wouldn’t be here long. You parked and turned off your car, then double-checked that nothing valuable was left visible from the windows before unbuckling your seatbelt.

Before you got out of the car, you looked up to June’s house to admire the old building and saw motion on the porch. For just a heartbeat you thought Neal might have seen you pulling in and came out to meet you, but then you realized the person coming out had long hair and was wearing a shimmering black dress. To each his own, but they were five foot six, tops.

You stayed put to assess. It felt uncomfortably like spying and the agent in you was uncomfortably okay with that. The person turned around and you didn’t recognize her face. Her hair was a little snarled and her dress had some oddly-placed wrinkles. You spent a lot of time at the office, but not so much that you didn’t know what a walk of shame looked like.

“Maybe I should have texted ahead,” you said to your empty passenger seat, somewhat amused. It looked like Neal had a way of coping, after all.

She walked off the porch and went to the street, looking down at her hands. You were trying to avoid the awkwardness of being seen, so you pressed yourself back against your seat and watched her through the side mirror when she came into view. The lady didn’t even look at your car, instead moving her fingers on her phone.

“Wait,” you said softly, narrowing your eyes to look closer. She wasn’t holding a phone, the motions of her fingers weren’t right.

Since she wasn’t even looking, you shifted around up onto one knee to look directly out the rear window. She got to the sidewalk from the driveway and started going east, towards Broadway, and as she turned to follow the street you got a better look at what she was holding. It was a wad of cash, and she was counting the bills.

You turned back around and dropped into your seat, narrowly avoiding giving your thigh a hard knock on the steering wheel.

A woman leaving Neal’s address, as June isn’t home, while in last night’s clothes and counting bills.

You felt breathless. What were you supposed to say, to yourself or to Neal, about what you had seen? Breakfast was off the table. You pulled your seatbelt back over yourself and started the car, leaving him none the wiser to your visit, so you could have time to think.

~~~ Bite ~~~

You stalled on talking to Neal for days. There were four very long days, almost an entire business week, where you wracked your brain trying to come up with another explanation for what he was doing. Neal freaking Caffrey hooking up with an… escort? There was no way, absolutely no way. Okay, so you supposed it made sense that if he needed something to lift his spirits, sex worked for most everyone. But even if you assumed that his looks and intellect and charm had suddenly become completely useless in the world of romance and sex (and you were one hundred percent sure that wasn’t the case), there was no way he was stupid enough to risk everything he had just to get laid. Victimless or not, solicitation of a prostitute was breaking the law and if anyone found out, Neal would go straight back to prison.

So you just kept telling yourself that it wasn’t what it had looked like. You kept telling yourself that you misread the situation, that there was some important piece of context you just weren’t aware of, and you kept trying to think of what it might be. Because you were trying so hard to convince yourself of that other piece’s existence, you resisted the urge to conclude he was seeing a prostitute – because if you came to that conclusion, you were legally obligated to report it. And if you reported it, and Neal couldn’t factually disprove it, then your friend was going back to prison for a crime that you didn’t personally believe should be a crime in the first place.

The problem was that it had been four days, and you couldn’t think of anything to explain why Neal had seen a woman out early in the morning with a going-away gift of cash. If it wasn’t solicitation, then it had to be something worse – conspiracy for a white-collar crime, maybe, or worse, drugs. Drugs would explain why she looked unkept.

The conspiracy option seemed like the most likely bet, but Neal of all people knew how thin his ice was, and he wasn’t going to start tap dancing on it by relying on strangers not to narc. He had a small circle of people whom he trusted. You were reasonably confident that you’d met everyone on the list, and the woman whom you’d seen leaving wasn’t one of them. Plus, since Alex, you were pretty sure Neal learned to stop mixing business with pleasure, so it wouldn’t account for why she had stayed the night.

Drugs only occurred to you on Wednesday, and you’d nixed it by lunchtime. You wouldn’t put it past Neal to have experimented once or twice with some less intense stuff, but you’d known him too long not to know if he had a particular vice, and he didn’t. Sometimes he smoked when he was stressed, but that was it. You carefully tried to see if there were any signs of a new habit, but Neal looked healthy, his mind was sharp, his hands were steady, and there was no discoloration anywhere on him. Addicts were good at hiding addictions, but it hadn’t been long enough for Neal to get that far down the rabbit hole, so you took comfort in knowing that he wasn’t slowly poisoning himself.

Without those options on the table, though, there was no alternative to a prostitute. One part of you wanted to just let it go and pretend you hadn’t seen anything. It wasn’t like you’d seen them screwing so it wasn’t shirking responsibility to fail to report – you didn’t know for sure anything illegal had happened. When the worse alternatives included heroin, you were tempted to just be relieved that the most likely reality was consenting adult activity. The other part of you was just so… disappointed. You knew how clever he was. Of all the things to risk his parole over, this was what he chose?

Being a pushover wasn’t a quality for any good agent to have. Avoiding conflicts wasn’t exactly what you were known for – you liked to handle things as they came up, rather than letting them fester. Now, though, you felt like such a wimp, cowering from a conversation you needed to have just because you were afraid of how it might go. Even that unpleasant feeling of knowing you were letting yourself down didn’t motivate you into gathering your wits and putting your foot down – it was what happened at lunch.

You went in to get your salad from the fridge and happened to cross paths with Peter and Neal, who were already in the kitchen brewing themselves more coffee. You said a pleasant greeting to them both, putting aside the lurching feeling in your stomach when you saw Neal smile at you. He still didn’t know you’d seen anything. He didn’t know you’d spent the week trying to decide how to respond.

“What’s good?” You asked, opening up the fridge and taking out your meal.

“Not the coffee,” Neal quipped, earning himself a side-eye from Peter. “What about with you? You’ve seemed a little intense this week. Good case?”

Heh, I wish. So he had noticed there was something wrong. Well, so had you – he was convincing but you weren’t fooled by his back-to-normal demeanor. “Not good as in interesting,” you said, going along with what he thought. The middle of the bureau wasn’t the place to ask Neal what the hell he was thinking, and any time when another agent was around was the wrong time. “But particularly challenging, and I think I’m close.”

“That’s a good feeling,” Peter commented, smiling slightly. He’d always had a good work ethic. It made you happy to work under him and you felt a little bit guilty for lying. “Just don’t forget to take time for yourself.”

“I may not be married, but I still have my own life,” you teased him. It was well-known that your boss was a workaholic. Were it not for his wife, he’d spend even more time in the office. “I might even make weekend plans.”

You stuck your thermos in the microwave as Peter chuckled and Neal gasped in overdramatic surprise. It made you smile at the appliances. Being so tense for the last week, and worrying about Neal for the last several, had almost made you forget how much you liked your work environment and your friends.

“Weekend plans doing what?” Neal asked, his grin just big enough to show a little flash of his front teeth.

Your weekends were never very exciting, but at least you were able to quickly think of something that rhymed with your streaming service. “Hulu and Cthulhu,” you said smartly as the microwave dinged.

Neal laughed. “Very cultured, Agent Y/L/N.”

“You know it.” You clicked your tongue at him with a wink. “What about yours?”

“Ah, I might have a friend over,” he answered smoothly, and you raised your eyebrows, wary that he was referring to a paid friend and not a real one.

“Mozzie?” Peter guessed.

“Sh,” Neal rebuked, glancing meaningfully between Peter and the doorway. “The walls have ears.”

“He’s literally been here,” the investigator grumbled, forever exasperated by Haversham’s paranoid distrust of every government official in the world.

The microwave dinged and you took your thermos out and picked up a plastic spork. “Yes, and now I bet he has PTSD,” you joked.

“And I’m the one who has to hear all about it,” Neal complained. His tone wasn’t giving much away – he could have been either joking with you or completely serious, and somehow not knowing made it a little funnier. You were never sure what to make of Mozzie, so the ambiguity was suited to him. “Good luck on your case.”

“And on yours, guys,” you replied as you took your lunch and went back out into the bullpen, heading for your desk to work through your break.

It was only a couple of minutes after you sat down again that you realized Neal had deflected the question of who his friend actually was. Maybe he was just taking it for granted that you and Peter knew it was Mozzie after he hadn’t said no, but part of you just said it wasn’t that simple. The principle of Occam’s razor rarely applied to Neal – which was just unfortunate, because your life would be so much easier if it did. You needed to talk to him before he had the chance to repeat whatever he had done last weekend, because if you didn’t, then he might make a huge mistake.

~~~ Bite ~~~

Your time to talk to him came towards the end of the day, and you didn’t even have to make up a good excuse to get him out of the building alone. Peter came by your desk an hour before the workday usually ended, almost blushing and quickly hurrying to explain how it was his turn to pick up the dog from the groomer’s and he had to hurry or the groomer would call El and then his wife would find out that he forgot a shared domestic responsibility again. Okay, so he didn’t say anything past his wife being called, but you weren’t exactly new to the office. You knew how it worked.

Anyway, you said you’d let Hughes know where he was if you were asked, and that you could give Neal a ride back to Riverside. If he didn’t have the tracking anklet, he could take public transportation, but public transit never ended up going straight to his apartment, and it was almost an eight mile walk, and since federal plaza was already out of his radius, letting him go home alone made the U.S. Marshals all skittish. It was easier to just carpool with everyone’s favorite ex-con in the passenger seat.

Neal was usually a very animated passenger, but like his demeanor at work, he was more subdued in the car than he used to be, and another pang hit you in the chest as you wondered if he behaved like this in Peter’s car, too. You wanted so badly to believe he wasn’t just choosing to shut you out, specifically.

“I have satellite,” you said casually while waiting at a traffic light. You felt like your heart was pounding, and between that and the emotional chest ache, you almost felt like a trip to the ER should be in order. “I decided to start paying. Better music, less commercials.”

Neal shrugged. “It’s just a few more minutes.” Except in rush hour traffic, it was actually closer to fifteen. In spite of his lacking enthusiasm, he took the hint after a few seconds and reached for the stereo controls, turning the satellite stations on and flipping between a few until he could something that wasn’t pop, rock, or rap.

The music made the ride less awkward and you kicked yourself for it in hindsight. At least when the silence had seemed loud, it would’ve been easier to break it with words instead of radio. June’s address drew closer and as it did, you had the sinking feeling that you weren’t going to have the courage to say anything, no matter how serious you knew the situation was.

Too many feelings.

“Can I come inside?” You asked, apparently out of the blue, glancing across the car at him. Neal’s eyebrows were up and his lips slightly parted when he looked back from the window, surprised as you’d ever seen him. “We don’t talk much anymore,” you lied with a little shrug. “Haven’t had much time for it, I guess. But we could do coffee.”

Neal took a second to respond, and you were sure that he was going to politely reject you. Instead, his expression became a little more open as he considered and dropped a hand onto his knee. “Yeah, that sounds nice,” he agreed, and then looked back out the window.

After that, it became less painfully uncomfortable, at least on your end. Invitation secured, you stopped worrying. You were going into his home – backing out wasn’t an option. What was an option was doing what you could to try taking care of your friend, and hopefully that would include setting him on a better direction and figuring out what the hell had happened in Brady’s loft. You even felt hopeful that in a couple of weeks’ time, things would be back to normal and your friendship would rebound like none of this had ever happened.

You made it to Riverside and fortunately found curbside parking. June had a driveway, which was a luxury for a Manhattan residence, but she also had two cars already in it and you hated feeling like you were blocking anyone in. Neal reiterated the welcome for you to come inside and you went in with him, looking around June’s first floor with curiosity before following the artist up to his rented space. It looked cleaner than it usually did… not that Neal was a slob – far from it, in fact – but the penthouse looked a little less homey than usual and it was extra concerning.

You took your shoes and coat off by the door after Neal hung his jacket on the coat rack. “Italian or Ethiopian?” He asked, striding into the small kitchen and opening up the cupboards to the left of the fridge.

“Ethiopian,” you replied and watched him take a name-brand bag of coffee grounds off of the shelf. You’d never had it before but Neal had good taste.

While he brewed coffee, you took a quick look through the parlor section of the open-floor plan, seeing the records and books that he had opted to keep accessible. Neal’s tastes in music were in line with what you would have expected. He liked instruments, and when it came to singing, he liked classics. His reading interests were more eclectic, but that, you supposed, was part of how he kept his skills up. Neal was very proud of his excellence in art, but he also went out of his way to be a sort of jack of all trades so that he could connect with a mark on some level, no matter what it was they were into.

Once you couldn’t hear the coffeemaker running anymore, you treaded to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair to sit. Neal brought two mugs over a moment later. “It’s how you like it,” he remarked, setting one in front of you and sitting only a couple of feet away with his.

A real smile came to your face. “You remember.”

“Of course I remember,” he said, giving you an almost playful look like you should know better. “I never forget a coffee order.”

“I thought it was names you never forget.”

“I never forget either,” he replied without missing a beat, smiling slightly over the edge of his mug.

“Silly me,” you commented. The roast tasted almost like a heavy tea, but it was good. You put it down on the table, then reached for your belt and took your badge off. You put it facedown next to your coffee and Neal’s attention was rapt.

“Is there unofficial business I should know about?” He asked. His tone and words were light, but you could see a very subtle change in his face that you would have completely missed if you hadn’t been watching for it.

“I don’t want you in trouble and I’m not gonna start any,” you responded, tilting your head. Neal had taught you that a lot of crime was actually in shades of grey, and after Peter had begun to loosen up, you started thinking that maybe there was really something to the lessons Neal occasionally espoused. One of them was that sometimes the ends justified the means, as long as the means fit within a moral framework that prioritized human wellbeing. “I saw something on Sunday. I came to pick you up for breakfast and there was a woman leaving. She had cash.”

Neal put his mug down and reached for his face. Slowly, he rubbed his hands over his eyes, and then his cheeks, his head down tiredly. You were curious how he would play it, and simultaneously hoped he wouldn’t try to play you at all.

“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to read it,” you continued quietly. “But you have to know that the most obvious reading isn’t worth going back to prison over.”

Neal drew in a long, tight breath, through which his shoulders barely moved. “No,” he agreed, sounding absolutely exhausted. “It’s not.” He moved his hands, and then you saw in his eyes the same look that he’d had after the op went south weeks ago. He looked like his spirit had been beaten down, and he was so weary he couldn’t summon the energy to hold his shoulders up. “It’s not what it looked like.”

“Tell me what it was, then,” you prompted gently. It wasn’t your intention to violate his privacy or push very far. Despite the symbolic gesture you had made, your badge was still right there and you were still an agent of the FBI. You weren’t interested in that being a factor in how much or how little Neal chose to reveal to you – you wanted to be his friend first and foremost. But you also weren’t sure how much you truly wanted to know, or how much Neal would tell you regardless of whether or not you were a fed.

The artist rested his elbow on the table, still turned towards you in his chair. After he lowered his eyes from your face, he didn’t look up for a couple of very long moments. Because you knew him well, you waited patiently. If he had decided he wasn’t going to tell you anything, then he wouldn’t be looking away from you. Neal was very good at issuing a challenge without being overtly confrontational, and right now, he wasn’t challenging your right to know, just… figuring something out in his head. Thinking.

“I want you to know that I didn’t intend for this to happen,” he said finally, lifting his head. His usually kissable lips were frowning. “And I tried resisting.”

That made you frown. What was there to resist? Coercion? “Resisting what?” You asked him worriedly.

That worry only increased tenfold when he answered, “Blood.”

~~~~~

A/N: This is part two of three. There will be one more chapter after this.

If you like my writing and would be interested in skipping the request queue, please consider commissioning me on Ko-Fi. Imagines are $1 each and a 2,500-word oneshot is $4.

#white-collar-lawmen-and-conmen #lawmen-and-conmen #White Collar #white collar x reader #neal caffrey #neal caffrey x reader #peter burke #reader insert #request #series #bite #casefic #x reader

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b1acksw4n · 5 years

Text

Who Do You Love? Part 3

Genre: Hybrid!AU, highschool AU, some fluff, LOTS of angst, maybe some smut in future chapters

Pairings: Hybrid!Taehyung x Reader Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Hybrids were owned by humans and were viewed as pets. But what happens when hybrids are given a chance to be our equals. When Kim Taehyung a tiger hybrid transfers to your school, your whole world is flipped upside down. He’s mysterious, which draws you in. Jungkook doesn’t like the sudden interest you take in this hybrid...

Words: 1.9k

Sitting alone in your room you scrolled through

Instagram. Finding a picture of your ex Seokjin with his arm wrapped around a girl's waist, smiling brightly. You couldn't stop thinking about him. It hurt so fucking bad. God did it hurt. He was perfect. Too perfect. You really don't know when things began to fall apart. You two became quite distant, movie nights and once comforting and romantic cuddling sessions became a bit awkward and that's when you knew something was definitely wrong. You found out Jin cheated on you and was going behind your back with some upperclassman. You were completely heart broken.

~(Flashback)~

The day of the break up, you were all dolled up, ready to go on a date with Jin, and when he showed up at your door, your heart fluttered. But that giddiness soon turned to nervousness as Seokjin avoided your gaze then confessed everything to you. He called the date off and left you crying on your doorstep, makeup that you spent hours on prior to look nice for him was now running down your face. When you walked back inside, your phone started to ring, although you could barely hear it from how loud and pitiful your crying was. Jungkook, your best friend, was indeed calling you. You instantly hit 'Decline' not wanting him to see you like this.

He called again and again. You knew he wouldn't stop until you answered so you sighed through your tears and hit accept with a shaky hand. "Aish YN! It took you four missed calls to answer your best friend?! I'm not that annoying am I?" He said teasingly, not prepared nor aware of what was about to occur. You stifled a sob, curling up in a tight ball. The phone laying right next to you on the floor, Jungkook on speaker. "O-Oh my god what's wrong?! What happened?! Tell me." He went from concerned to angry and upset in a matter of seconds. "J-Jin." You cried harder, hugging yourself tighter. "What the fuck did that asshole do?" Jungkook grunted, hearing shuffling coming from the phone you could tell he was getting up and getting ready to go to your house. "Kookie.. I-I'll be fine d-don't do anything.."

"Too late. I'm already here." He had a key to your house since you guys were close and he let himself in. He ended the call, his gaze immediately landing on your shaking figure. He could see you were still dressed up like you were supposed to go out and his dark thick brows furrowed as he gently pulled you into his strong firm hold. His muscular arms holding you securely as you cried into his chest. "You deserve better than this you know.." He gently rubbed your lower back in a relaxing circular motion, kissing your temple.

Crying softly, you clung to his strong figure. "He's a dick. I'm seriously going to beat his ass YN. I don't care if he's older than me. He fucking hurt you." His voice didn't sound as playful and teasing as it usually did. He sounded livid. "Kookie.... d-don't.." You looked up at him with pleading eyes, your hair a mess and tears streaming down your cheeks.

He lightly brushed your tears away with the pad of his thumb. He stared at your features for a moment with sparkling eyes before carefully standing up and carrying you to your bedroom. He was so strong that it was practically nothing for him to do. "You need to rest, love.." Grabbing one of his t shirts you had at your house, he handed it to you and a pair of pajama shorts. "Change into this and get some rest.. please.." He looked down at you, and a few minutes later you came back out with it on. Crawling into bed, you sniffled, getting under the covers. Jungkook got in after you, pulling you close to him, his muscular chest pressed against your back.

"Don't worry.. you're safe with Kookie.." The brunette said tiredly, his grip unintentionally getting tighter. His scent was all you could smell and it lulled you to sleep and you were so thankful to have a best friend like Jungkook.

~(Flashback End)~

You stared at your phone screen feeling numb. It had been 2 months and you still weren't doing that great. Jungkook was such a great guy and here you were still hung up over Seokjin. Jin already had someone new and he looked so happy without you. You almost felt guilty. Were you leading Jungkook on? You never meant to, you'd never in your life want to hurt Jungkook. You still couldn't believe till he had feelings for you.. He meant the whole world to you.

It was a Thursday afternoon and you were watching some random boring game show on TV, eating some buttered popcorn. Tomorrow, Taehyung and you would be studying together at your house. Monday's, Wednesday's and Friday's you and Taehyung were supposed to study together. Tomorrow would be the very first day and you were kind of nervous to be honest. You hoped it wouldn't be too awkward. Since he's coming over after school you decided to clean your room up a bit.

Pushing yourself up and off the couch, lazily reaching for the remote, you turned off the TV. Throwing away the empty buttery popcorn bag, you went upstairs to your room. Your stairs felt endless at the moment from the excessive laziness you've been feeling lately. Your lower calves were already slightly burning from it. Putting on some music, you started cleaning your somewhat messy room. You organized your clothes, neatly putting them in each designated drawer.

You vacuumed your fluffy white carpet from the thick black fur your cat always seemed to leave behind as evidence she lounged around all day. Put all the empty water bottles and dishes away. Took your trash out and overall did a pretty deep and thorough clean. You didn't want Taehyung thinking you were some unorganized slob.. even though you weren't sure why you seemed to care so much. Well.. first impressions are pretty important right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You quickly got dressed, getting ready to go to school. You grabbed your bag, walking to school. Jungkook waved to you and you approached him, entering the large school building. "Hey.. are you alright YN? You seem pretty quiet.." Jungkook thoughtfully looked down at you. You nodded slightly, staring at the ground as you walked. You already worried Jungkook enough.. Maybe he'd drop it if you just kept avoiding the question. "You can tell me.." Jungkook took your hand and gently held it in his much larger one. He was so caring to you. Although with other people he seemed rude and a bit off putting.

"It's just Jin.. I'll be fine Kookie.. don't worry too much about it." You looked back at him as you walked ahead of him a few feet. You weren't paying attention and once again your face hit a familiar hardness. Taehyung's chest. You bumped into him again. "Well this wouldn't be the first time this happened." Taehyung chuckled a bit, looking down at you, one of his soft fluffy ears drooped. You smiled up at him, ruffling his messy soft locks. Since when was Taehyung this outgoing? This is the longest sentence he's ever said to you!

"Are you ready for our study session after school today?" You took a step back so you could see him clearly since you two were so close, almost forgetting about Jungkook. Jungkook had an agitated expression on his.. well perfectly structured face. His dark brown brows furrowed as his once soft eyes were now narrowed in a displeasing manner. "Yep! Can't wait." Taehyung exclaimed with a cute toothy grin on his face, his sharp canines now visible. "Me too." You smiled, gave him a small shy wave and walked away with Jungkook to class. "You're so rude Jungkookieee.." You pouted a bit, looking up at him. He only grunted, feeling his chest tighten in possessiveness as he wrapped his arm around you.

Jin walked past and you stiffened in Jungkook's hold. Jin glanced at you, and Jungkook glared at him. Your heart was racing and you avoided eye contact was Jin. Truth was, Taehyung had found out about what Jin had done to you. He had already took a disliking to him. Taehyung was very fond of you. You just seemed very gentle and caring to him, and it made him feel safe. As a hybrid, he was constantly being degraded and beaten. He had a scar that went right over his left eye and over his cheek, although you never asked him about you, you sure had an idea.

Sitting down at your desk in math class, Jungkook sat right behind you, occasionally whispering things in your ear, every time the teacher turned his back. Jungkook's soft hushed whispers sent shivers down your spine. "We have another new student. Her name is Jennie. Make her feel welcome everyone." The teacher announced, snapping you back into reality. Another new student? Jennie waved and took her seat. Right next to Jungkook. She kept looking at you two, with a rather questionable look on her face. She looked so familiar but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. 'Have I seen her before?' You thought staring at her a second too long. Jennie looked up and met your gaze, smiling. You The teacher was talking but in the midst of his lecture the bell rang. He dismissed everyone even though people were already scrambling to get their books and left the classroom. It was lunch, that's why everyone was in such a hurry.

You went to your locker to put your things away and Jungkook did the same. You both met up at his locker and you felt a delicate hand tap you on your shoulder. "This is so embarrassing.. but I need help opening my locker.. I'm not used to the combination." It was Jennie. "Of course! I'm YN by the way I'm sorry I never really introduced myself." You smiled, following her as she led you to the location of her locker. Jungkook was close behind, considering he seemed to think he was your personal bodyguard or something like that.

"The combination is 45 - 16 - 0." Jennie explained. You put it in and on your first try you opened it with ease. "Thank you so much." She chirped. "No problem. Do you want to sit with my friends and I at lunch?" You asked thoughtfully. You knew how it felt to be new and not know anyone so you wanted to make her feel less awkward and alone. She nodded and followed you and Jungkook to the cafeteria. You went through the agonizing process of waiting in the extremely long line of hungry hormonal teenagers. Finally, the three of you got your food, and walked back to your table. Where Hoseok had been waiting for you with a lunch he brought from home.

Soon all four of you were hitting it off. Jennie was really funny and pretty outgoing once you guys got her out of her shell. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad having another girl around to talk to. You were kind of nervous but apprehensive about the study session with Taehyung. Especially with Jungkook probably attempting to interfere with that ridiculous hatred of his, he had for the hybrid.

#bts #bts fanfic #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #hybridtaehyung #hybrid #tiger hybrid #jealousy #cute #bts x reader #jin #bts seokjin #jin is your ex #jungkook is your best frienf

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