#ive been looking through school notebooks for the drawings and i just liked this one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

justgowithitplease · 11 months

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Tell me in the comments, should i release the full thing?

Cassandra Cain x Reader

Word Count: 2845 (2.8k)

'Please, for the love of god, just pay attention.' Cassandra thought, trying to put her attention towards the lecture, and away from [Reader], the most gorgeous, amazing person they've ever seen. She hasn't even talked to them, but they were all she could think about. Their smile, their laugh, their eyes, their... everything about them.

"Now for the groups. Because of the lack of effort people put into meeting new people, i will be assigning them." The teacher interupted her thoughts, "Here's the paper, you can check it on your way out."

The bell rung, signaling the students to pack up and head home. Sweeping all of her papers, notebooks, and her computer into her bag, she stood up and walked towards the door, with the list taped on the outside of it. Reading through the lists, she hoped she wasn't partnered with [Reader]. She would sell her soul-Hell, she would give up alfreds cooking for the rest of existance to not be partnered with you. She didn't find looking like a tomato for a month appealing.

'John with Kelso, Roy with Jade, and at the end of the list, [Reader] with Cassandra' Her heart skipped a beat, seeing her name next to their name. 'Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit.' She bolted down the hallway, down the stairs, and out of Gotham Prep., waiting for Alfred or Dick to come and pick her up.

"Cass! You didn't meet me at the door, is everything ok?"

She whips her head around, standing face to face with her adoptive brother, Duke.

"Cass? You look pale, are you ok? Do we need to pick up cold medicine on the way home? I can totaly call alfred to see if we have so-"

Keep reading

"No!" She interupted him. "No. im fine, just tired."

"Ok, if you say so..." He trailed off, texting Dick to pick them up. "Ready to leave?"

"What?" Cass said, lost deep in thought about... someone.

"To go get Damian, We're on a tight scheduel today so they only have time to make one stop. Are you really that out of it? Maybe you should skip the gala tonight."

"No, No. I can make it. I'll sleep in the car, and at home. I can get ready quickly, so it wont be a problem."

"Fine, but im telling alfred."

"Rat."

"Says you."

"Says... me? Yeah, says me!"

"Thats what i just said!"

"No, you said says you! Not says me!"

The pair began to walk towards the middle school, bickering about who knows (or cares) what. Waving to friends,Saying goodbye to teachers, and getting into a few fights, they slowly approached the large brick and cement building. Sifting through the crowd of kids, teens and parents, they found Damian waiting in the car pick-up line, doodling on a piece of scratch paper.

"Whatcha drawing?" Cass questioned, looking over the shoulder of the younger boy.

"Ace. I missed him in class today, so ive been drawing him." Damian said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Thats sweet!" Duke said, entering the conversation.

"I guess." Damian retorted, waving to alfred as the car drove up.

"Good to see he's developing social skills." Duke muttered to Cass as they got in the car.

"Speaking of social skills, Master Thomas, Will you and Ms. Cain be gracing us with your presence for more than five minutes this time?"

"Depends on the snacks" Cassandra answered for him.

"Mhm, Snacks are the key." Duke agreed.

Sighing, Alfred assured the two High-School students that there would be snacks. Satisfied with the answer, the pair began to do homework, reluctant to stay up late to complete it. As Cassandra was finishing her work, her mind went elsewhere. To them. [Reader], with their... Everything. The way they act, the way they look- The way they looked at her. Even if just for a moment, it seemed as if it was only Her and [Reader] in the entire galaxy. She was snapped out of her daze as the car came to a stop in front of the large manor.

"God, i will never get used to how many people Bruce hires for gala's" Duke said with a sigh

"I agree." Alfred stated, stepping out of the car.

"There better be loads of snacks." Cass remarks, eyeing the multiple vans of roses lined up in front of the house. "What's this gala for, anyways?"

"I think it's to raise funds for a new group home," Duke replied, waiting at the door for her.

"Wow, thats... acctually different than his usual funds for the hospital, or something for metropolis." She said, entering the house.

"The big blue boy scout is problably in debt with favors so much B isnt going to do anymore before he chashes them in." Duke laughed, following her in.

"Problably." She said, absent minded.

"Ok, this is definatley more than just being tired, what is up with you?" He questioned, holding her back from walking up the stairs.

"Nothing. Well... something, but..." She trailed off.

"You would rather talk to steph about it?"

"Yeah, im sorry."

"Don't be sorry, we all have those subjects. Just don't keep it bottled up, ok?"

"Ok. Wanna play Mario kart?"

"Only if you're ready to get your ass beat!"

"You're funny."

They raced up the stairs, trying to push each other down and out of the way, determined to get first player. Dodging the florists and catering staff, they slammed eachother into doors, pulled eachother back by the collar of their shirt, and leaped over one another, closing in on the door. With one last shove, Cass reached Duke's door first, opened it, and started the game. Once Duke joined the game, they forgot their homework and any worries they had, focusing on the game and trying to beat eachother.

Who knows how much later, there came a knock on the door. Bruce informed them that it was time to get ready for the gala.

"Ugh, you sure you dont wanna skip?" Cass asked Duke as she got up.

"We promised Alfred that we would stay this time." He said, regretting his previous choice.

"Gah, why did we do that?"

"For the snacks."

"They better be worth it."

As cassandra walked down the hall to her own room, she went into auto pilot, mind preoccupied with thoughts. Thoughts of [Reader]. She couldn't help but think of them, she just... loved them. It wasn't a feeling of obsession, it wasn't something dark. It was a feeling overwhelming, absoloute love. The type where when you think about the person, your heart physically aches, yearning to be with them. Wanting to be near them, even if it was as little as simply being in the same room. When so much as thought of you, she became giddy, started giggling to herself like a middle school girl with a crush. But it was more than a crush. It was true, irrevocable love.

"You ok?" Tim interrupted her thoughts.

"W-what? Yeah, why?" She asked, confused.

"Because you've been pacing back and forth for the past 15 minutes. C'mon, the gala's about to start." He motioned her to follow him as he walks down the stairs, preparing to open the doors for guests.

'Deep Breaths, Cassandra. You can do this.' Cass thought to herself, running to catch-up with him.

"Cassandra! I thought you were ditching again." Bruce said with a chuckle. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as i'll ever be!" She replied, smiling as she walked over to Stephanie.

"Hey Cassie! How's my favorite sibling?" She asked, being briefly interrupted by Dick yelling in protest to her statement.

"Fine, i just-" She sighs, Waving to the guests shuffling in, "There's something i wanna talk to you about."

"Ok, well i'm here now, so why dont we go get some snacks, mingle, and get away from the eavesdroppers. We can talk about as much or as little as you want, No judgement." She replied, leading her towards one of the caterers.

"That sounds good." Cassandra smiled, picking up a cookie.

"What do you want to start with?" Steph questioned, also taking a cookie.

"Oh i don't know. Well, there's this person-"

"A person? Oooooo tell me tell me tell me!"

"Ok ok! They're in my world history class, as well as my math one. We were partnered for the great history project, and they're really really cool! They paint, and draw, and they're also in the board game club."

"They sound awesome! Do you guys talk much?"

"No not really. Not ev- EEP!"

"What? is something wrong?"

"No, well, Yes. Look between Bruce and Comish. Gordon. They're right there!"

"Who? The person? Oh my god! You have to go say hi to them!"

"NO. I am not embarrassing myself! I've never even talked to them before!"

"Well now's the time!" Stephanie says excitedly, as she shoves Cassandra towards [Reader].

"Waitwaitwai- HEYyyyyyyy [Reader]! How are you?" She stammered, mentally kicking her sister.

"Hey! Im pretty good. How 'bout you? Also, how do you know my name?" [Reader] said, slightly confused.

"I'm pretty good! We... uh, We're in the same world history class. We're partnered for the project in class?" She tittered.

"Oh that's right! What time period do you want to do?" They asked, taking a sip of their drink.

'This isn't as hard as i imagined. Surprisingly easy. I've got to thank Steph after this.' She thought.

As you two continued chattering, Duke spotted you across the room. Running over to Stephanie, He tapped her on the shoulder.

"Steph! Cass is talking to someone! It looks like she likes themmmmm~" He said in a sing-song voice.

"She does! She told me herself, while we were talking earlier. I had to shove her over there just so she would stop staring at them and talk." Stephanie gossiped to him.

"Wait, isnt that the kid she's partnered with in World History?" He questioned, recognising [Reader].

"Apparently. Do you think she's going to tell them?" Steph replied, stealing a bit of food off of dukes plate.

"Who's telling who what?" Dick surprised them by wrapping his arms around their shoulders.

"GAH!" the pair yelled, followed by complaints of Dick's presence.

"No one, Dick." Stephanie said, dissmissing him.

"Oh come on. Who?" He pressed, ignoring Stephanie.

"No."

"...Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"NO."

"PLEASE" He pleaded, stretching out the 'E'.

"If we tell you, will you shut up?" Duke asked.

"Most likely" Dick said optimistically.

"Good enough for me." He sighed, "Cass has a crush on someone, and they're talking to eachother."

"OH. MY. GOD." Dick whisper yelled.

"I know, right? Im gonna go grab her and convince her to ask them out." Stephanie said, moving Dick's arm off of her.

"Wait, we wanna help too, bring her back to us!" Dick begged.

"Fine, but you owe me!" Steph told him and walked away, "See ya losers later!"

"Good luck! Don't fuck it up!" They called, trying to encourage her.

Stephanie strutted over, interupting Cassandra's and [Reader]'s conversation.

"Hey there! I need to borrow Cassie for a sec, ok? Thanks."

"Hey! What the fuck was that about? We were having a nice conversation!" Cassandra protested as she was dragged away from [Reader] and towards two of her brothers.

"We need to know everything. Absolutely. Everything." Dick said as he put his arm back around Stephanie, making it so they were facing 3 to 1.

"You told them?!" Cass accused Steph.

"Look, im sorry, but i couldn't set you up by myself!"

"Ex-CUSE ME?" Cassandra violently daring her siblings to speak about this further.

Being absolutley clueless, Dick repeated Steph, "We are setting you up with whats-their-name."

"I heard you, dipshit. Im just wondering why you didn't think to ask me first. Or why you thought this was a good idea! Also, their name is [Reader]." She replied, less angry and more confused/questioning.

"We thought it would be a good idea because Duke says that you've been acting weird all day, and we dont like that. Plus, you two would be cute together." Dick informed Cass, as if she hadn't been thinking that for the last couple of weeks.

"Y'know what? Fine. But you guys tell me what to do. You don't talk to them, you tell me how to talk to them." She bartered.

"Works for us! Now, what approach do you want to take?" Duke said, speaking for the group.

"I don't know, what 'approach options' do i have?" She asks.

"Well... i don't know. Jason's usually the one asking people out." Dick says, nodding his head towards one of his younger brothers. "Do you want to involve him?"

"Why not, with this little club we're forming." Cassandra said reluctantly, "Someone else needs to go and get him though."

"I'll do it. I don't think he has any beef with me." Duke offered, raising his hand.

"Thank you Duke, you truly are my favorite brother," Cass remarked, exhausted from mingling with so many people and talking with [Reader] for so long.

"Hey! I thought i was your favorite brother!" Dick complained as the other male member of their group walked away, avoiding people as much as he could.

"You thought wrong, then." Cass stated, rolling her eyes.

"Was I ever your favorite sibling?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"Before Bruce adopted Duke!"

"Why, why must you do this to me?"

"Because it's funny."

"It's funny seeing my heart broken into a million pieces, sister?"

"A little."

"How dare you!"

"Will you two PLEASE stop bickering?" Steph interrupted, "Duke and Jason are almost back, they just gotta wrap up a conversation."

"No." Cassandra and Dick said at the same time, side-eyeing their companion.

"Shush it, dipshits. They're coming over." Steph jeered, shutting them up.

"Hey guys! I have brought the requested person," Duke said with a chuckle.

"Hello Duke." Dick said apathetically. "Hey Jason! How are you?"

"Annoyed. I was politely having a conversation with Commissioner Gordon, then duke came over and interrupted us. This better be important or i am murdering one of you." Jason glared at each member of the group, taking longer to glare at Dick.

"Really? It looked like you were threatening his wife if he tried to arrest you aga-"

"Shush now, no-one wants to hear you blabber about false things. What do you need me for?" Jason interrupted Duke, covering his mouth in the process.

"How do i approach a crush? Dick vouches for your flirting abilities." Cassandra asked Jason.

"What approach do want to take?" Jason replied, taking a bite of his food.

"That's where we left off." Stephanie added to the conversation, bringing Jason up-to-date.

"Ok. Direct... or less direct." Jason gave her options.

"Less direct, in case they don't like me back. I can't go back to school with them if they reject me." She stated nervously.

"Fair, Fair. So, what you're gonna do is bring them some food. Wether that be a cookie, a drink, or whatever else they have here. Then start a conversation movies. Try to bring up a movie you know they haven't seen. If they say you should see it together- or something along those lines - you're in. If they say that they will watch it - or something along those lines - you're... not out, but not in. Just keep on talking about things you both like until you're in." He instructed her.

"Ok. And what do i do after that?" Cassandra questioned, not wanting to be left clueless in the middle of the conversation with [Reader]

"Uh, I don't know. After that we usually go back to my place an-"

"No." The other three members of their group chorused, giving worried glances.

"Fine. Pick up lines. Discretely, but still some pick up lines." Jason said with a roll of his eyes.

"I don't think you know what the word 'Discretely' means, Todd."

The members of the ever-so-fast growing group collectively jumped in terror as their youngest sibling appeared behind them.

"Holy shit Damian! Stop fucking doing that!" Jason told him, repressing the urge to slap the child across the face.

"Shut up, Failure. You have no use here." Damian argued.

"Say's you, you little dipshit." Jason said, having to be held back by Cassandra from punching the child.

"Guys! Can we please get back on track?" Stephanie pushed Damian out of Jason's reach.

"If you tell me whats going on, then yes." Damian stepped back to his previous place, rejecting his sister's attempt to keep him safe.

"TL;DR, I don't know how to ask out my crush, so i'm getting advice." Cassandra informed the youngest member.

"Just ask them out. Easy, simple and effective." Damian said.

"No! I-" She sighed, not wanting to repeat the entire conversation, "Never mind. How long have you been standing there anyways?"

"Since Thomas brought Todd over, and you all huddled into the corner."

"We are not huddled in a corner!"

"What ever you say, Cain." He walked away, leaving them to observe their surroundings.

"Maybe we are huddled into a corner," Steph said, noticing the wary glances made at the group, "Eh. Not the weirdest thing we've done."

#cassandra cain x reader #cassandra cain #should i post it?#wip

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lowaltitude · 1 year

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Assertive (2) | Billy Hargrove

Passive, as told from Billy’s POV.

- Stranger Things

- Passive. Reader’s POV

- x Reader (Y/N)

- Part One. Part Two. Part Three.

❪ FEM! ❫

───── ❝ description + disclaimer ❞ ─────

𖥻 original prompt: ‘ “don’t you know who i am?” “yup. i just don’t care” ’

𖥻 no connection to Stranger Things series timeline. 3.6k words

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

A week. It had been a week of dealing with Y/N. She was stubborn, I’d go as far as to say she was impossible some days. I’d managed to get her to let me drive her to and from school a few times, mostly by keeping her a little after class so she would miss the bus, but she would spend the whole ride talking to Max.

Max and Y/N had become insufferably close, so close that Max and Y/N were happily immersed in their conversation and didn’t even notice me waiting so that Y/N and I could go to class together.

I hated how she didn’t pay much attention to me, I was always shut down. She didn't even look at me when I sighed in defeat and walked into the school without her. At least there was the positive that talking to Max meant she was talking, instead of side eying me and waiting for our time together to come to an end.

“Billy!” Tommy shouted as I walked into the classroom, I nodded at him and went to my seat. Tommy pushed off the desk he was leaned against, coming over and talking the empty seat beside me.

Y/N’s seat.

“What have you been doing?” Tommy smiled “Or, who have you been doing?”

I rolled my eyes at his idiotic attempts at conversation, usually it wouldn’t bother me to talk about sex but since I’d been hanging out Y/N, I hadn’t been fooling around.

“Just living” I shrugged.

“Dude, come on. Ive seen you running around with that girl”

“There’s nothing to tell. Y/N is my… friend” It felt odd calling a girl, anyone at all, my friend. But I wanted Tommy to stop bothering me, I’d realised that something Y/N disliked was my temper so I was trying to stay calm.

“You’re friends with a girl?” Tommy scoffed, and I admit I knew it was a wild concept.

Looking at the doorway, I watch as Y/N walks in. The wind had made her hair a little messy, and I couldn’t help the deep feeling of longing. Her eyes land on me and I felt like someone was punching me in the stomach again, I wanted to stroke a hand through her hair in a lazy attempt to tame it as a poorly executed excuse just to touch her.

“Move” I said brashly.

Tommy chuckled awkwardly, forcing our laughter as he looked at me in confusion. “What?”

“You’re in her seat”

Y/N purses her lips as she reaches the table, tightening her grip on her books “Sorry” She sighs. Rocking back and fourth on her heels. She had a bad habit of apologising for things she wasn’t at fault for i’d noticed.

Tommy looks at me one last time before hurrying away, taking his place at his normal table. I look to Y/N as she moves beside me, silently taking her seat.

“Hey” I tuck my lip between my teeth to stop myself from smiling like an idiot at her.

She rolls her eyes and puts her notebook on the table “I saw you less than 3 minutes ago”

I watch as she clicks her pen and starts mindlessly drawing spirals on the lines page, a bored expression already playing on her face. Pay attention to me!

“You have to say ‘hey’ back, it’s considered rude to not reply”

Her eyes immediately met mine, and it was like I could hear the blood pumping through my body. She had her eyebrows furrowed, fist clenching the pen tightly, and just as she opened her mouth to say something the teacher came in and she looked away from me in defeat. What was she planning to say? It’s likely she was going to just tell me off for being an asshole, but maybe I had done it already and she was hopelessly devoted to me.

She probably wanted to spend hours just talking, listening to music and enjoying each other’s company. Unwind after a long day or fall asleep in each others arms.

Show me all her favourite books, works of art, and movies that she loves. She’d beg and beg for me to take her back to California so she could see where I grew up, and i’d get to show her how much I used to love surfing.

“Stop looking at me” Y/N frowned. I raised an eyebrow slowly, resting it on the table and waiting for her to give in. She sighed, as if accepting it and allowing a smile to slowly break out of my face “Hey”

Picking up one of her pens, I began twirling it in my hand like a drumstick and looking at what was writhing on the whiteboard at the front of the class. I didn’t really known what we were doing, Y/N always did the work and I wanted to help her but I also enjoyed watching her focus.

Dropping the pen on the desk, already bored of it, I turned my chair to look at her completely. “What kind of music do you like?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because”

Waiting, I watched her roll her eyes and I knew she was contemplating if she wanted to make a snide comment or be nice to me. “Same as you, I guess”

“You guess?”

“Music, Billy, I like music.” She waved a hand at me, as if she was shooing me away from her “Don’t bug me about if i prefer… Mötley Crüe to Duran Duran”

I knew for a fact she liked Motley. I’d not only seen her quietly singing along in the car, but i’d also gone passed her window— and by passed I mean, I had started walking to knock on her door but something stopped me and I ended up just slowly backing away until I heard music and noticed her jumping around.

“But you do prefer Motley right? I heard you listening to them the other day” I nod and she once again furrows her eyebrows. Every time she did that I wanted to put my finger between her brows again, I liked the way she went blank for a few seconds when I did that. “You should really close your curtains if you’re going to dance in your bedroom without wanting me to see it”

“Don’t look in my bedroom window, it’s that easy. Freak”

Freak? Me? I let out a low laugh before leaning as close to her as I could, keeping enough distance so that I wouldn’t do anything crazy. “Yeah. Maybe I am a freak, but I think you’d like it”

Her jaw dropped, I studied her face and I could see the cogs turning in her head again. Every thought she thank seemed to be obvious to me somehow. That I was twisting her words. That she kind of liked it.

Before she could say anything, the teacher interrupted. “Billy, Y/N. This is not your lunch break, back to work”

I snatched a piece of paper from Y/N and twisted my seat so I could look like I was hard at work. As soon as she looked away from us I slouched and stopped pretending to write. Drawing random shapes on the page, and sighing aloud to myself. I could see Y/N’s arm in my peripheral vision, and I carefully moved my arm to brush against hers, the slight contact sending a chill up my spine. She didn’t move away and maybe I liked that.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

I tried to catch up with Y/N after class but she was too fast, and I couldn’t manage to squeeze past the crowd of mostly girls that were gathering around me. Word had spread about celibacy and they all wanted to be the one to bring me back to my usual ways.

“Sorry, I really have to go” I forced a fake smile, peeling one of the girls off my arm. She was gripping me like she was a toddler and I was her favourite toy.

I ignored the pleas and whines, no matter how nice it felt to hear those girls screaming my name I had something else on my mind.

Y/N was opening up, she was welcoming the though that I wasn’t as bad as she believed, I just knew it.

Racing to to my car I tapped my foot impatiently as I leaned against the hood and waited for Max.

“Where’s Y/N, I wanted to tell her something” Max frowned, taking her backpack off.

“Caught the bus, let’s go already”

“What did you do?” Max glared at me as we climbed in.

“Nothing” I spoke through gritted teeth “She just didn’t want a ride today.”

Max muttered something but I was too focused on getting back to our house quickly to care if she was insulting me. We had to be back before she was.

I slammed the car door behind me as I got out, adjusting my jacket collar and leaning against the car with my eyes on the street. The bus pulled up a minute later, and I watched as the doors opened, allowing Y/N to step off.

It kind of shocked and amazed me that no one else was running in circles for her, she was the best this town had to offer and I was the only one to notice. That’s good thought, it means I don’t have competition yet.

She fixes the straps of her bag and I excitedly jog down my driveway, trying to act casual and tucking my hands in my pockets as I pass her mailbox.

People on the bus looked out the window and Y/n looked back at them awkwardly. “Yes?”

I let a smirk break out on my face “Got you so worked up you couldn’t spend another minute with me without throwing yourself at me today, didn’t i?”

Why else would she run away after I was a gentleman. Well, as gentlemanly as I could be.

She scoffed an unimpressed look on her face as she stared at me. “Oh of course, i’ve had nothing but you on my mind all day”

“Really?” I tried not to sound to hopeful or excited but I couldn’t help it, I was practically bouncing on my feet.

She groaned “No!” and it felt like a different kind of punch to the gut than I had felt this past week, the others were a ‘good’ punch. Relieving, warming. but this one was like a real punch, it stung.

Y/N turned away, beginning to walk up her driveway towards the house and I recomposed my slightly bruised ego and went after her. She opened the front door and turned to look at me again, pointing her finger at me, only a few inches away, if I ook one step forward we’d be touching.

“Down boy. Sit. Stay.”

I exhaled sharply out my nose. She was treating me like an animal, and I was one, but I was certainly not her pet. “If you’re going to treat me like a dog you could at least call me a good boy”

“You have to be good for that”

“Do I get in trouble if i’m bad?” Leaning my arm on the doorframe, she stared at me for a few seconds and I felt like my mouth had been stuffed with cotton. I had nothing else to say but I wanted to speak again.

After what felt like a month staring at her face she closed the door in my face and I gawked. Only girls fathers had ever done that to me.

I walked across the lawn, stopping on the grass and looking up at the window I knew was to Y/N’s bedroom. I wondered what it looked like inside, you couldn’t see much from down here other than if the light was on or not.

She appeared by the window, tying her hair up with the adorable aggravated look on her face and I smiled, watching her turn to look out the window. Was she going to check if I was out by my car? Did she miss my presence?

Her eyes landed on me and I swallowed hard before lifting my hand to wave at her. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, aggressively pulling her curtains shut and making me laugh.

I sighed, almost laughing to myself in amusement “She’s so cute”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

Waking up on Saturday morning, I was practically up with the sunrise. All my thoughts were about how I couldn’t wait to see Y/N on Monday.

After staring at the ceiling for maybe an hour, I heard the door open and close. Getting up, I peeked out my window and watched my father’s car pull out of the driveway.

Stretching, I went out to the living room. Turning on the television and finding a channel that was just playing music videos. It was only 7 in the morning and I was already lifting weights, this was usually an after school activity to let out any pent up frustrations.

I knew what was getting me so worked up, and she probably wasn’t thinking about me this much. That was truly devastating.

“What are you doing?” Max asked quietly, rubbing her eyes. I glanced over at the clock and saw that it had been a few hours, not minutes like I had thought. My mind wandering had started to become a real issues for me, I lost all sense of time passing when I was focused on girls. Not girls plural, really, just one girl.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I sigh “Whats it look like?”

Max filled herself a glass of water and drank it slowly as I packed my weights away before going to take a shower.

I faced the water, just standing in the shower and thinking. I needed to wash my car but a better user of my time would be ‘studying’ at Y/N’s house, I already knew where she lived and maybe if her family opened the door she’d realise I was amazing when I charmed them. I put my hands in my hair, scrubbing my shampoo and trying to get out as fast as possible.

My hair wasn’t doing what I wanted as I died it, and my clothes felt like they were sitting wrong on my body. It was like the world was against me today and I don’t know why. Not even my cologne seemed to smell the same.

Giving up, I groaned and harshly ran my hand though my hair in one last attempt to make it presentable before exiting my bedroom.

Walking right out the door, I mentally practiced what i’d say. Did she live with her dad? Mum? Both?

Hello Sir/Ma’am, is Y/N here? I was hoping we’d be able to study together for our biology class. Pause for response. I’m Billy, by the way, lovely to meet you.

Is that how people talked, or did that make me sound like I was here to murder her? My usual interactions with others parental figures was the awkward passing when they knew that I was about to have, or just had, sex with their daughter.

I stopped as I got to her front door, taking a deep breath and trying to understand why I was suddenly sweating. Rapping my knuckles on the door, I waited and looked around the street as I heard footsteps approaching.

The door opened and I brought my attention to the girl standing in front of me. Hair unbrushed, toast between her teeth and wearing her pyjamas. The shirt was a little short, revealing her midriff and I tried to not make her think I was looking at her boobs. Looking back at her face, I felt like sighing out loud.

Dark circles under her eyes, cheeks puffy and lips dry. I felt my heartbeat in my ears, every part of my being was telling me to touch her- Kiss her. Even like this she was the prettiest girl i’d seen in a long time and I smirked at the sight of how wide her eyes had gone.

“Good morning” I finally spoke, it felt like I was out of breath just trying to say those 2 words to her.

Reaching forward, I stopped myself from tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and instead grabbed the toast. I took it right from her out of her mouth and took a bite, smiling as she stood and chewed, confused at my actions.

“What are you doing here?” She asked. Somehow I had expected her to be nicer to me on the weekend, as if she’d realise how much she missed me annoying her.

“Is it so strange that I want to spend time with you, gorgeous?” I hadn’t meant to say that aloud but it felt reliving somehow, to tell her how she looked so effortlessly gorgeous.

She crossed her arms across her stomach, hiding her exposed midriff. I hadn’t figured her to be one of those girls that doesn’t like their body, I think it was perfect so why did she hide herself. “Yes, actually”

Taking another bite of toast, I moved off the doorframe I had He took another bite of the toast, pushing off the doorframe I was leaned against and going into her house. “You just wake up?”

There were pictures on their walls, pictures of Y/N growing up peaked my interest. She had the same most adorable smile, less intoxicating when she was young but just as perfect. “You were cute” I smile, thinking of a way to get her to talk to me again “What happened?”

“You can’t just want into my home and tell me I got uglier” She whined, making me shrug and start walking to her lounge room.

“Never said that. Said you were cute, called you gorgeous not even a minute ago. You got hearing issues or something?” I grinned, knowing she couldn’t see the goofy look on my face as I had my back to her.

There was a blanket on the floor, and I put the last bite of toast in my mouth before picking it off the floor. I draped it over the couch before sitting and looking at her television. She hadn’t said anything, there were so many long silences that I now wanted filled, I just wanted to hear her voice.

“Are you going to close the door?” I asked, looking at her. She seemed to snap back to reality and quickly moved to shut the front door before coming to stand in front of the tv. Hands on her hips and glaring at me.

“I’m trying to enjoy my day”

I grinned “You’ll enjoy it more with me” Patting the seat beside me, I hoped she’d take it. “I know it, Y/N”

“You don’t even know me”

I guess not, but I knew that for some reason I liked being around her. I didn’t want to have some one night stand with her where i’d ignore her in the halls, I liked hearing her poor attempts at insults and watching as she worked. “So? I’m trying to”

She stood there, staring at me with a blank expression. A minute passed and I kept waiting, I didn’t mind just admiring her but I was being scared that she was about to combust. Titling my head to the side, I tried to think what could possibly be going on in her head.

“Fine” She says suddenly, pretending to be angry at me and making me smile. Y/N moves, sitting a few inches away from me. “Do you want to just watch a movie?”

She didn’t kick me out! “Let’s play spin the bottle”

Y/N rolls her eyes and purses her lips, I look at her lips and lick my our before meeting her eyes again. Watching her shake her head “There’s only two of us”

“So you’re saying it would be easier if we just made out?” I raised my eyebrow, I was enjoying my time with her a little too much but I couldn’t help it. I put my hand on the back of the couch, like you’d see in a movie when the guy fake yawns just to touch the girl.

“No, i’m saying i’m not playing your games”

I looked at her, giving her a once over quickly before noticing her tightly she was balling her fists now.

“But I know you want to kiss me. I can tell”

“Sure you can” She snarks “How exactly can you 'tell’?”

I slowly begin to lean closer to her, locking eyes with her “It’s in your eyes. Your breathing pattern changes when i get close enough.” I was so close to her face I could feel her breath, and I watched as her eyes darted around the room trying not to meet my gaze. “And I don’t think you noticed, but you’re balling your fists pretty tight”

She took a sharp breath, looking down and carefully releasing her fists. Y/N looked back up at me, this time meeting my eyes and making me feel frozen.

She scoffed, leaning back on the couch. “That’s because i’m annoyed you’re getting in my personal space”

“Okay, and if I do this you’re still annoyed?” I let my heart take over, putting a piece of her hair behind her ear. I let my hand linger near her face, my finger ever so slightly touching her skin as I pulled it back to me.

“Yes”

I knew she was lying, and that made me happy…? Am I meant to like hearing women lie to me about their feelings?

“Uh huh” I nod, sitting back like nothing happened. Hoping she couldn’t hear my heartbeat from how incredibly loud it was being right now. “Got anything else to eat?”

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

to be continued… !

tags: @im-julessssss @m-rae23 @moonie-brbs @iamaslutforcoffee @kenny-power @billy-hargroves-wife @maackiimoo @reneetje @tayhar811 @harringtonfan4 @jiiisungpark @untoldshortsofthefandoms @theamunson @softbfbilly @goodiefishhh + i can’t reply to comments sorry

#fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own #ao3 fanfic #stranger things #billy hargrove #ao3 writer #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x yn #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you

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fabulouslygaybean · 3 years

Text

remember when i used to be good at art

#my art #idk if it deserves that tag but! im still gonna put it there #im pretty sure this sketch was from early 2020 #ive been looking through school notebooks for the drawings and i just liked this one #also. one of my friends drew stick arms onto it which makes it 20x better lmao #it was just supposed to be some kind of study and its not completely accurate but i like the way it looks so its fine #shut up ryland

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keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

lavender latte: iv

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 5 ||

word count: 7.7k

sucks when things go south, huh.

warnings: description of bodily injury, blood, mild? gore (it’s just describing injury), description of overstimulation, capital h and c hurt/comfort

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chapter 4 :’^) thank u for all of the love so far. i appreciate. every. single. one of. u. bottom of my lil rat heart.

this chapter was nearly split, but giving y’all a cliffhanger seemed mean

this the turning point and set up for the rest of the story so buckle up and enjoy ;^)

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Things between you and Hawks didn’t change too much, not externally anyways. Both of you still continued to indulge your feelings, even if you desperately tried to ignore them.

You continued to honestly spoil Hawks in lavish drinks of many sensations. Truthfully, you loved nothing more than seeing his face as he sipped at your new creations, watching the curiosity and pleasure spread over his features made your heart soar in your chest.

And Keigo continued to bask in your company. The drinks were always amazing, but the chatter and discourse between the two of you was what he loved most. Or, maybe it was his learning of you through watching your small gestures and cues. His analytical, interpersonal skills were, for once, being put to a use that didn’t involve espionage or deception.

It felt cleansing.

Despite these quietly greedy interactions, there was a great deal of repression between the two of you. Aimless flirting aside, squishing any growing feelings caused you both a great deal of strain. It worked, avoidance, for a while anyway. It wasn’t without consequences, but they wouldn’t get nasty until later.

One of the most apparent tolls was Keigo’s physical state. Having to actively ignore and quash his feelings for you caused such a deep amount of emotional turmoil. It made him ache all over. This was in addition to an asinine amount of extra hours he was spending staking out the villain syndicate that was indeed in the neighborhood of the tea shop.

(He wouldn’t admit it, but he was being overly diligent in scouting out the organization's doings. They were very close to you and your home, and the thought of you getting caught up in anything to do with his profession fucked him up on-premise alone.)

The combination of both physical and mental exertion made him messier than ever. It physically clouded him a lot of the time. Exhaustion had well and truly seized nipping at his ankles and proceeded to fully rip a chunk from his skull.

Keigo had yet another long day, dawn until at least midnight, no matter his aching body.

He’d be listening in on out some sort of meeting between the villain syndicate and one of its allies, some more reclusive group of villains from the far-off mountains. Neither organization was particularly noteworthy, but they did have some nasty criminal connection that needed to be monitored. That meant a late night for Keigo and an even greater need for caffeine.

He paid you a visit in the early morning.

The moment Hawks came through the door, you lit up, beaming from behind the counter.

The shop was empty, just having opened a few minutes before he appeared. The only sounds were the hum coffee machines, quiet music, and the tapping of your own tinkerings. Normally, there’d be more bustle, but you were alone in the din of the shop.

“Hey, angel,” He flashed you a winning smile, sliding down into his usual stool and propping his elbows on the counter. “Where’s the calvary?”

“Oh, the other openers?” You jerked your thumb to the door. “Running late. They all stayed up late working on a project for school, so I took one for the team and am manning the ship alone for this first bit.”

You sighed, looking quite tired yourself.

There was mutual recognition of your twin state, though it wasn’t verbally regarded in any way.

Hawks was far better at hiding his poor health from you, but that didn’t stop you from seeing the pinholes in his facade. You’d gotten better at it with time.

“What can I get you today, Hawks? Inspire me.” You set the glass on the counter between the two of you, gesturing to the expanse of the coffeeshop. “It’s just you and me today, so I can go all out.”

“You don’t already?” Hawks chuckled, running a hand through his hair with a sigh.

“I try,” You shrugged. “I really do my best work for you, whether you’re a glorified guinea pig or not. Gotta serve up the best for my best customer.”

On any normal, Hawks would’ve bantered right back at you, keeping you on your toes with quick words and wit.

That day?

He just laughed, something weirdly neutral, almost off-putting because you knew it was manufactured.

You opened your mouth, brows furrowing. You wanted nothing more than to ask ‘hey, are you alright?’.

But, that would’ve broken some of your own, mentally-imposed boundaries. It hurt, to just laugh with him, but it was all you would let yourself do.

“So,” You broke the air with words as opposed to giggles. “What would you like?”

Hawks hummed, “Surprise me.”

“... Like, fully?”

Hawks nodded, slowly.

Keigo, in a movement of full vulnerability, (he told himself it would just be for a few minutes), laid his head on his folded arms, “Go wild, angel. I trust you. Make me anything you’re feeling. Wing it, no pun intended.”

You blinked at him, nodding. His sudden, almost submissive action surprised you. Something in you ached, seeing him so worn down.

You channeled this feeling into a desire to make him top-tier drink.

Reaching into your apron, you fished out your idea notebook. Many had been crossed off over the many weeks (months now?) that Hawks had been visiting the tea shop. You fairly consistently wrote down new ones, so there were always options, but on that day, none appealed to you.

Your gaze flickered back to Hawks, watching the soft movements of his breath through the tight fabric of the back of his shirt.

You needed to make it extra good, help shake Hawks from his stupor.

You’re gonna wing it.

You’ll make a feel-good drink.

It was your only self-imposed criteria.

You hadn’t ever made Hawks a drink without a concept and feeling beforehand, so the concept of not having one seemed novel.

You activated your quirk and began.

“How’s your day been?” Hawks called from behind you, words muffled.

Keigo still didn’t look at you; resting on his arms allowed him a little bit of a reprieve before his grueling day. He’d take it. Hearing your voice would make it that much better.

You described your day with a decent amount of detail for how much it hadn’t gotten started yet. Hamming up the detail meant more time for you to craft the drink. Your mind spun, grasping onto pre-existing, mental abstracts in your oddly calm headspace to create something tangible.

Though your quirk was activated, you weren’t really identifying a feeling specifically, rather just letting your quirk draw from whatever material you had laying around in your brainscape at 6 AM on a weekday morning.

You pulled as many espresso shots as Hawks usually liked (maximum, five, you refused to give him more than that in a single drink), pouring them into some steamed oatmilk and several other ingredients you had mixed into a cup. You tapped some cinnamon on top of the foam, polishing everything off with a dash of sweet cream.

Carefully, you set it between the two of you. Hawks hadn’t spoken since you had begun to make the drink, so oddly silent.

It almost made your skin itch, his lack of response. You reminded yourself with quick glances that Hawks was very obviously out of it and exhausted. You were sure that without the concealer he wore under his eyes (a secret he revealed to only you), he’d have purple circles punched from how overworked he was.

You hoped your drink would be enough to brighten up his day.

You bit your lip as Hawks raised his head, blonde waves more unruly than normal. A small, lopsided smile stretched across his face as he sat up, grabbing the drink and bringing it closer. He had learned long ago to allow them to cool.

“Sorry for not being as peppy as I normally am!” It was almost imperceptible, the off-kilter tone in his voice.

You caught it but said nothing.

He sheepishly rubbed at the back of his head. “Been running on empty it seems, angel.”

“Then take some fuel, bird boy.” You nodded to the foamy drink. “When are you supposed to be done today?”

“Late, like late. Early morning, probably.” Hawks sighed, taking a sip.

...

As the liquid coated his mouth, Keigo’s mind seized.

What.

What the fuck.

Any and all thoughts he had disappeared. They were incinerated from his mind by the drink’s heat.

A sun-scorching sensation like he’d never even known tore through his body.

It was so different from the other ‘warm’-toned drinks you’d made him in the past. The flavor and feeling filling him up was nothing like the hearth-like drinks you had made prior. You had treated him to plenty of beverages that felt akin to open flame, warm blankets, a cat purring over your chest, a candle on a cold night—

But, nothing even close to this.

This was such a strong feeling that if he was a less trained man, his eyes would’ve rolled back in his head. If he’d been standing, he was sure his legs would’ve been visibly shaking, probably given out.

Sure, the feeling was abstract, not as concrete as your other drinks but it was ineffably strong.

It felt like the flutter you caused in his stomach, but somehow all over and inside of him.

It was the heat in his cheeks when he saw you, but reaching from his toes to the skin of his scalp.

It was the shock in his throat when you smiled so honestly at him, now forcing his hands to twitch around the cup.

The consuming sensation was all of that goodness and more, magnified and exponentially deeper and marvelously burning.

It was hot, fiery as it ripped through him, completely unignorable. But, it was also soft, colored with the earnestness that he admired about you so much—

Oh.

It clicked as the sensation stirred in his stomach, fluttering to a point of near nausea.

It was you.

The moment he realized it, that all of that sensation was you feeling, as you had made the drink, something began to broil in the apex of his chest, rolling and all-consuming.

His mind stalled as he took it all in, taking another sip.

The feeling washed over him again, equally as wonderfully crushing.

“Soooo,” You drawled, setting a jar next to you on the counter, beaming him a smile. “What do you think? Gimme your judgment, bird boy.”

Keigo struggled to keep his face neutral as he quickly searched yours.

Even in his state, it was clear that there was no deception or riddle laced into the creaminess of the drink. The expectancy in your face was derived from admiration, not waiting for the punchline of an unfinished joke.

“It’s warm! Like, in your stomach.” Hawks looked down before taking another sip, the even smile on his face not wavering for even a moment. “What is it?”

“It’s a miel,” You tapped the jar next to you, pointing at the amber goo inside. “This is some wildflower honey from the owner’s sister’s farm, right outside the city. We have a bunch of extra stuff, so there’s no better time to make a honey-based drink.”

Hawks eyed the steam, “What goes into a ‘miel’?”

Watching Hawks’ shoulder go slack with the next chug he took, you hummed, “It’s a latte, so espresso and milk, then it has the honey in it which is what makes it a ‘miel’. Topped it with some special sweet cream, a bit of cinnamon. My extra touches in it as well, just based on my quirk.”

Hawks met your gaze, his eyes softening with what you could’ve sworn was desperation, but was quickly swallowed up but stoicism, “And what was this drink’s inspiration?”

You laughed, shoving your hands in your apron from the typical anxiety, though the feeling itself was somewhat normal and thereby dulled, “It didn’t have one! I just winged it, like you said. My quirk was activated though, so it was just sort of the concept of what I was perceiving and feeling, I suppose.”

There was a pause as you waited for Hawks to speak.

He didn’t.

Keigo stared down at the drink, then you.

Holy fuck.

This was ambient?

The sensation that made his toes curl and every part of him yearn to reach out to touch you and give all of himself to you—

It was unintentional?

The feeling was familiar, one that he had organically all the time when thinking of you, being with you at the teashop. It was the one that he shoved down over and over again around you, yet craved more than anything.

And here you were, unknowingly returning it to him.

You hadn’t intended it to be shared and you had no idea you even did.

Keigo was one of the most perceptive people on the planet— he knew that many of the feelings between the two of you were mutual. As much flirting as there was, a lot of it was real from both of you.

He just didn't think it ran this far deep.

(Mutually.)

“What... What do you think it tastes like?” You asked, that nasty rot in your gut rearing itself as Hawk’s lack of response ate at you. You turned fully to him, actually taking him in.

Keigo did what he was so skilled at doing—

Lying.

Hawks waved his hands in front of him like he was trying to put out small flames, “Nothing bad! Promise, it’s really good! It tastes like how the coffee shop feels. Warm, comfortable. It makes sense that your quirk would reflect that.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, “Oh, good. I’m glad it's good.”

“Very good. I might have to put miels on my list of favorite drinks you’ve made me,” Hawks gave you a relaxed grin, standing and passing a wad of cash to you.

You didn’t expect him to be leaving so quickly, but he did say he was busy.

“Oh, hey, Hawks?” He perked up when you said his name, blinking at you. “I’ve got a project I’m working that I’m doing for the owner, so I’ll be here late. If you’re around, you’re welcome to come by after close if you want another drink? For your long night.”

Hawks softened for you like he so often had come to do. He fluffed up the collar of his jacket, wings ruffling up behind him, “I think I’ll take you up on that. I’ll have some ideas for you then too, how about that?”

“Sounds lovely,” Your voice was like the honey of the drink, warm, sweet, and vibrant. “I’ll see you then, Hawks.”

“See you then, angel,” Hawks practically glowed as he walked from the door, the chime of the bell sounding with his exit. “I’ll text you when I’m close!”

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Over the course of the day, an odd feeling grew in the pitch of your stomach. You did your best to ignore it.

You alternated between serving customers and working on the ‘project’ the owner had saddled you with. Making centerpieces for his sister’s bridal shower was not something you should’ve been doing on company time, but they were giving you a handsome sum of cash under the table for it.

You couldn’t complain too much, other than that it was laborious. Masons jars stuffed with wired lights and frosted glasses, tied with twine and ribbons were all to be prettily arranged by your hand.

During the middle of the day, you went back home, spending your time between shifts catching up on sleep and making some decent food.

The odd gnawing only grew in your stomach.

Keigo’s long day was wearing on, though somewhat uneventfully. Most of his patrolling time was the effortless thwarting of petty crime and easy rescuing.

He even had the time to go back to his agency and snoop.

Because, for how lame his day was, the drink you made him (which he had greedily chugged all of shortly upon leaving the tea shop) caused him to think particularly hard about your quirk.

(As opposed to the asphyxiating awareness of your shared feelings.)

He didn’t get it.

You’d managed to perfectly create a drink that communicated complex feelings. You’d told him in the past that it could be used for any sort of feeling as well, but you were so vague beyond that. You were abstract in the same way you quirk was.

So, he decided to abuse his power a little.

He decided to actually take a lunch at the agency, munching on takeout while clicking through the HPSC’s databases.

Civilian quirks, especially those that had never attempted to pursue any sort of career with them, weren’t documented incredibly well. Maybe a few details that were used in public research projects, but not much beyond that. He had hoped he could dig and find something that would assuage his curiosity and confusion.

He tapped your name into the HPSC’s hero-accessible database, scrolling and pulling up your file.

There was a picture of you, one from an ID that must’ve been a few years old. There were personal details Keigo wasn’t all that interested in, though it was neat to finally know your birthday.

He clicked on the tab for your quirk.

Quirk: Synesthetic Manifestation

Description: Allows the user to materially manifest abstract, synesthetically-created feelings into reality.

This quirk does not allow the user to alter reality, only tangibly create abstracts through the means at their disposal.

Drawback: This quirk causes severe synesthetic overstimulation and appears to be activated unintentionally in instances that expose them to high amounts of stimuli.

Quirk potential:

Keigo knew the concept of ‘quirk potential’ well. Most of the time, this portion on files was only filled out if the individual had ever trained to use their quirk in a profession.

Oddly, your’s contained a few details.

The user showed high potential in initial assessments, but due to the nature of the quirk, its drawbacks, and its recorded usage, this user’s quirk is now classified as lowest potential.

Keigo frowned.

All this just made him more confused.

The file didn’t get into much more detail than you did. The only thing that was new information to him was that at some point you had tried to use your quirk in a training setting and that somehow got you demoted from high potential to lowest potential.

Keigo’s own quirk in the database was regarded as highest potential; you, at some point, were only a step down from him. Something knocked you down from pursuing quirk-based work, and based on your current employment at the tea shop, you never got up. Keigo figured it was the intricacies of your quirk that he didn’t fully understand.

He’d have to be a bit more careful getting any more information out of you, considering how much you disliked talking about it.

Keigo continued to stew, finishing off his lunch while thoughts of you and your feelings danced across his mind.

Though it was clear his adoration was obviously returned, it was much easier for him to muse over the nature of your quirk than the way he wanted to pull you over the teashop’s counter and kiss you breathless.

You went back to work, a few chalky tablets of stomachache medicine in your tummy. They were all you could do to try and quell the twisting in your gut.

By the time you arrived back to start your ‘night shift’, it was late evening, the sun already having fallen into the horizon.

Most of your time prior to closing was spent in the front, helping make drinks and clean up as you could. Part of you was actually excited to throw on some good music and grind after the tea shop was shut down for the night.

Also, seeing Hawks twice in the same day? Absolutely fantastic.

You wanted to try and make him a knockout drink, to make up for the lackluster one you’d prepared him earlier. Seeing his eyes get all gooey with happiness would more than push you through your night of work.

Your phone chimed a bit before close.

[birdboy]: hey ;^) mind if I come by in like a half an hour?

[you]: yeah!! just call me and i’ll unlock the door for you

Your closing coworkers giggled at you. They all knew that that big smile stretched across your face meant you were texting Hawks. You used to get a bit shy about it, but now you just gave them shit. He was your friend, right?

[birdboy]: what if i like, hit the glass, like fly into it like birds do into windows

[you]: okay one- no, that would definitely shatter the windows and idk if i wanna deal with that AND you tonight ;^)

[you]: and TWO- are you speaking. from experience. about hitting windows.

[birdboy]: please dont @ me like this

You snorted.

[birdboy]: i had to pay off a tabloid who got it on camera bc it would ruin my brand

[you]: do u still have those photos

[birdboy]: ... maybe

[you]: hawks

[you]: gimme

[birdboy]: idk if i can my publicist will kill me

[you]: u hear what i hear?? a coward

[you]: how does ��your brand’ feel about that

[birdboy]: ...

[birdboy]: gimme one of those honey sticks u have at the register and the pics are yours once i get there ;^)))

[you]: DEAL!!!

You pocketed your phone in your apron, unable to stop the almost ridiculous smile that you wore.

Hawks made you uncomfortably happy. You knew that he didn’t feel the same, but he was still there. Even if you were just entertainment to him, you were happy to perform on any stage he was watching.

As closing crept up, you shooed your other coworkers off. Most of the closing tasks were done, they could leave a few minutes early.

As they began to pack up, chatting about some party that night, your insides twisted.

You squeezed the counter, rubbing your forehead while wishing your coworkers a good evening.

Weird.

It was about then that things went to shit for both you and Hawks.

Keigo’s was supposed to be in for a hellishly long shift of surveillance based on the intel he’d received about the syndicate and its impending meeting.

Apparently, that meeting was happening earlier, rather than later.

The chaos started quickly, the meetup going from a strategic talk to an all-out fight between two groups.

It spilled into the nearby streets, both sides unabashed in their destruction.

Perhaps, if Keigo had been faster (what a tall order, for the fastest man in all of Japan), things wouldn't have gotten so out of hand.

But quickly, things erupted and the streets dissolved in mayhem as he dove and sent feathers flying.

You stood by the front entrance, waiting for Hawks, idly sweeping. The cleaning tasks were almost done, the world outside was dark with the late evening.

You froze when the ground beneath your feet rumbled with revving engines, the air splitting with the sound of car horns and alarms.

Everything that happened next moved so quickly, it was difficult to follow.

Windows began to shatter all across the street, near and far.

They cracked, spraying glass as a figure cloaked in black flew down the asphalt outside. A red barrage followed after it, nearly subduing it as it raced past the tea shop.

The massive glass panels at the front of the tea shop filled with frosty lines, just feet in front of you.

It clicked for you a few moments too late.

Adrenaline shot through you, but it wasn’t enough.

...

You weren’t Hawks, you weren’t fast enough to outrun much of anything, let alone quirk-shattered glass.

You were just barely able to turn around before the spray of shards reached you.

You would later be incredibly thankful that you wore denim jeans and a wool sweater that day. Without the thick fabrics, you were sure that you would’ve been shredded. The problem was your low-top shoes and thin socks.

Just as you turned, searing pain shot from the back of your left ankle. You urged yourself to forget the specifics, flesh-tearing, mind beginning to buzz.

You just had to keep moving.

Except, you couldn’t. Your left leg gave out with your next step.

You shrieked as you fell to the floor, barely catching yourself. Your palms smacked against the ground, pieces of sharpened glass driving into the flesh.

You couldn’t help screaming, your voice mingling with the sound of alarms, cries for help, and the war cries of a nearby fight.

Oh.

You were in the middle of a fairly nasty villain attack.

...

So much for giving Hawks a better drink.

The mental joke seemed macabre, especially in your state.

You willed with all of your might, for your quirk to not activate. Overstimulation was just inches away from your current state, the sounds outside the teashop boring through your skull like diamond drill bits.

The pain that was radiating from your left leg was nearly unbearable, but you knew that getting out of the front room was imperative.

How you managed to keep your injured leg straight, you’ll never know.

You locked your jaw and pulled yourself along the floor, hoping that Hawks had this all under control. More people were bound to be hurt by the same sort of attack you got caught in, right? How many more folks had been sliced up like you? Worse than you?

Keigo wasn’t having much trouble subduing the villains. They, of course, had no idea that he had been watching the syndicate for three-odd months. He knew their quirks, their tactics, their escape routes, everything. What he didn’t know as well was the other group’s specifics.

From what he had understood before the fight, the two had somewhat friendly relations. Still, Keigo mentally kicked himself for not being more diligent in his gathering of intel.

His mistakes aside, the much more pressing issue was the two-kilometer stretch of shops that were now collateral damage in what was essentially a mobile mob war.

This damage included the tea shop.

When he’d flown past the shop, he’d only caught a glimpse of your face through the glass before it shattered.

You’d looked terrified.

Every part of him wanted to stop, dead in the air, rush in, and make sure you were okay, but he had to at least get things under control until more heroes showed up. Then, he’d be able to get to you.

By the time Keigo subdued several villains of either group, more Pros had arrived on the scene. He sped off to the teashop far too quickly when he saw others gathering. It was an ill-advised move, but he was clouded by a different set of instincts than those cultivated in his hero training.

The flight did allow him to fully take in the damage of the district, though.

It was about as bad as it could be.

Whatever the villain’s quirk was must’ve shattered glass within a certain radius from his body, Keigo observed.

Thankfully, the villain’s quirk didn’t appear to affect anything past two stories of height, sparing all above it. Those panes and pieces that did shatter had sprayed businesses, restaurants, shops, and the street with shards of glass. Not to mention that they flew at the speed of projectiles.

(At the full-minded revelation that there was no way you weren’t hurt, Keigo felt his stomach flip and eyes burn.)

Keigo shuddered to think how bad the damage would’ve been if the encounter happened during broad daylight.

Keigo curled in his wings, dropping onto the floor at the front of the teashop through the broken window.

He kept his expression somewhat neutral, though the scene before him tore at his heart in a way he wasn’t expecting.

The tea shop was destroyed.

The pretty, warm lighting fixtures had shattered, fine filaments exposed, and a few sparking. The glass jars on your wall of tea blends were broken, spilling leaves and dried herbs across the back counter. That wasn’t even to mention the layer of shards from all of the glassware stored around the coffee machines.

Seeing the destruction of one of the only places he had ever found real comfort in was awful, and it tore something hidden and vulnerable in his heart.

But far, far worse was the absolute horror that bloomed in his chest when he saw the sizeable spot of blood in the middle of the floor, smearing to the back doorway.

“(Y/N)!” Keigo shouted, ignoring any stealthy elements and hurriedly following the trail.

“B-back here,” Oh, your voice was so weak.

Keigo couldn’t make himself move fast enough.

You’d managed to get yourself to the back, biting your lip so hard you were scared you’d break the skin. Part of you was lucid enough to know that making too much noise could be bad. Then again, the shop was supposed to be closed. Did anyone even know that you were there?

Hawks did.

You gripped at one of the edges of the stainless steel countertops, using all the strength you could muster to pull yourself upright. As careful as you were not to jostle your injured leg (that you still hadn’t looked at properly because you were terrified), the moment you bent it, you had to suppress a scream, turning it into a slow, nasty exhale. You let yourself sink to the floor again.

Something was seriously fucked up.

Then Hawks called your name.

You were sprawled out on the floor, injured leg awkwardly turned and extended to prevent the pain from being made worse.

The moment he saw you from the doorway, the remnants of his wings flapped, practically throwing him to the ground next to you.

The moment you saw him enter the back room, any and all fronts you had put on for yourself fell apart.

“H-Hawks,” You hated how small your voice sounded as you pushed yourself closer to him.

The details of him, how ruffled his remaining feathers were, how wide and scared his eyes were, how different he looked from the times you’d seen him on the news confidently saving the day, were lost on you.

Though, Keigo noticed your poor state easily. It was more obvious.

He scanned your form with the trained precision he was known for. He took in the shattered piece of glass sticking from your leg, bleeding lightly. Your palms weren’t bloody, but they were dotted with shards of glass.

He also noticed your panicked shaking and your unnaturally dilated pupils, beyond anything he’d seen while you’d made drinks for him.

“Is your quirk active?” Keigo asked, pulling off his gloves and grabbing one of your wrists. He turned your palm, using two of his smallest feathers like tweezers to pick at the shards pieces of glass.

“Y-yeah,” You replied, using the back of your other hand to wipe at your eyes. “It does this when I’m under extreme stress. I can’t turn it off.”

Keigo managed to laugh, relieved that the cuts in your hands weren’t that severe, “You just focus on me, okay, angel? That’s all you gotta do.”

You nod, trying to hold your overstimulated mind back. It’s fruitless, truly, because the moment Hawks reminds you that he is, in fact, there, and that you are safe, you quirk-addled mind spasms.

The awful mix of sensations whirled in your skull as you leaned forward, pressing your forehead into Hawks’ shoulder. In other circumstances, it would be a romantic gesture. But, the only purpose you had in the contact was hoping, praying, that the heat of his body would distract you from the swirling of sensations you couldn’t stop.

In that mental soup, within the fear, intense pain, and loss, oddly enough, was the unignorable, pleasant feeling of being so close to him. It made your heart squeeze. But, it was a single spice of sensation in a foul-tasting stew though, and it was hard to isolate the good in the muck of your mind.

You shook against him as sounds and pain blended inside your skull, thoughts becoming murkier and harder to understand.

Keigo finished tweezing your other hand, that one worse off, and wrapping it in some gauze he had stuffed in his jacket.

His mind screamed for him to wrap you in his arms, to pull you close and keep you safe. It was all he could fathom doing, just nearly moving to do so—

That was until the popping rumble of a nearby explosion interrupted his thoughts.

You jumped against him, muffling a scream in his shoulder.

His heart ached.

“(Y/N), I know this is all scary,” Hawks’s voice came through your sensational slurry. “But, I need to be back out there right now.”

“No.” Your mouth spewed with no discernable thoughts behind it. “Don’t leave. Please, don’t. Please.”

You caught Hawks’ wince, but barely.

He was already repositioning you, scooting you under one of the countertops, “Angel, I’m sorry. I need to go, but I’ll be back. I promise.”

Your eyes screwed shut, vibrating in your skull as pulling your uninjured leg to your chest.

Hawks looked equally as torn up about having to leave, brows creased with his lip worried between his teeth.

Despite how messy your brain felt, you knew that you were beyond defenseless. Even if your mind could easily conjure up an infinite number of ways to bring a person non-lethal (and lethal) pain, you were turning to mush mentally and you had glass sticking out of your leg. You had no fucking way to create it with your body.

Your back hit the wall under the counter and you managed to wrench your eyes open, taking in Hawks and his visage while you spun.

He looked so sad.

The feeling of mourning and fear spat so hotly in your mind, it was like you’d been intangibly burned by his expression.

You choked on your own stored tears, reaching out for him.

He caught one of your hands, the wrapped one, and squeezed it lightly.

Even with so few feathers left, Hawks plucked one, about the size of your forearm. He replaced his hand with the plumage.

“(Y/N), I will be back. I promise,” Hawks (so weakly) smiled, trying to reassure you. “You snap that feather if anything changes, okay? If anyone comes into the shop who isn’t another pro, or if you start to feel faint. Do you understand?”

“Yeah.” You gritted out, somehow laughing. Your vocal cords rubbing together sends a wave of agony up the back of your neck, burying behind your eyes. You press your forehead in your bent knee.

With one last, fleeting look, eyeing your wound and remembering slate-colored eyes, Keigo took flight into the fray once more.

Keigo hated leaving you. He hated it so fucking much. It burned him, felt wrong in every way. You were so vulnerable in your state. Both of you knew that without him there, you were entirely exposed and fairly defenseless.

It perked up that protective instinct he’d repeatedly had towards you for months. It was probably something related to his avian mutation, but it was just blood-boiling need to keep you safe.

Yet, he just left you, wounded and mentally spiraling, in the middle of a destroyed building.

If he wasn’t trained so well, he would have acted differently. But, it had been burned into him time and time again what his needs were in disaster situations.

Neutralize, stabilize, clear out.

Through his exhaustion, he fought and soared with all he had, fatigue forgotten and replaced by hot cortisol. He forced himself faster, zipping down alleyways and across rooftops at some of his top speeds.

While Keigo tracked down all of the villains (he managed to miss the first time), he trusted that the other Pros could deal with the heavy collateral damage. He was number two, he could catch some organized criminals.

Beyond his training, Keigo had an even bigger motivation.

He could feel you.

The feather he left with you must’ve been pressed right up to your chest, maybe under your neck with the way Keigo could so intensely feel your breath and heartbeat. He could sense it gradually speeding up to the point of what had to be panic. If Keigo focused, he could make out your terror-stricken babbling.

“It’s okay.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“This is fine.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Hawks is okay.”

“He’ll come back.”

“He won’t leave.”

...

“Everything's gonna be okay.”

With that last one, your words gave out and it turned in gasping breaths.

Keigo worked himself harder, striking down the last of villains with absolute precision, all distractions forgotten in the most pivotal moments of combat.

The instant the villains were in custody, restrained, he was flying back towards the tea shop.

You don’t remember any of this well. Your mind was liquified, your body throbbing in pain.

It had been an incredibly long time, years since you’d been in any situation resembling a villain attack. There was no way to stop the synesthetic storm that was choking your mind. Every sensation was magnified, mixed with another, and shoved down your throat without any ability to change it.

A few minutes after Hawks left, giving you time to stew and roll, you spiraled more harshly.

When you realized how pitifully helpless you were, you fell away, pressing your wet face into the Hawks’s feather. Your vision muddled between black and red.

You felt the cold of the blood wetting your pant leg.

Your wound is bad.

You hadn’t fully looked at it in awhile.

Opening your eyes, you suppressed a wave of nausea at the small puddle of blood growing under the bottom half of your useless leg.

The way the denim of your jeans stuck to your skin mixed with the smell heady smell of blood made you gag.

You couldn’t keep it up anymore.

Letting your eyes shut, you sank down to the floor, cheek pressed into the dirty cement.

You don’t know how long you idled, drowning in your mind’s colors and vibrantly violent sensations.

You were only half-conscious when the feather pressed to your neck twitches.

“(Y/N)!” Keigo shouted as he landed in the teashop, flying straight to the backroom, bypassing the mess of broken glass.

His breath caught, seeing you slumped over.

“Fuck,” Keigo couldn’t stop the tremble in his voice as he noticed how much blood had pooled beneath your injured ankle. “Hey, hey, (Y/N)—”

He sure fucking sucked at admitting his faults, and recognizing the severity of wounds was indeed one of them. He didn’t usually stick around long enough to deal with casualties so closely.

Keigo threw off his gloves, tossing them behind him without looking.

“‘M fine,” You started to push yourself up, hissing at the pain that surged from cuts in your hands. “Brain’s mushy.”

“That all?” Thank god Hawks still managed to joke. The humor dashed across your vision like little sparks. You stifle a weak snort.

“There’s my angel.” Keigo was so relieved to see you conscious that he didn’t notice his own possessive slipup. “Are you lightheaded?”

Gingerly, he helped stabilize your body upright as you wrenched your eyes open.

“A little, it’s okay, this is what happens,” Your voice was so loud in your own skull, it hurt. Though, the pain of your words was only a prick in the wet dough of your overworked mind. Sensation was pain, rolling over you and making it harder and harder to stay lucid.

Keigo swallowed thickly at the sight of your fully-blackened irises.

He needed to get you out as fast as possible, but that required assessing the gash in your leg.

His gaze flickered to your ankle, “Can you move your toes?”

“I don’t want to.”

Keigo frowned, weakly, pushing you as upright as possible as you began to slip to the side.

“Please, you have to try, okay?” Keigo begged, not noticing his own voice wobble.

You shook your head, grabbing it in within its own motion. The dizziness made your insides knot and stick together.

“(Y/N), please.”

You shifted your gaze to him, vision tilting as you did.

The frown on your face split as you just barely moved your toes within your blood-soaked shoe.

The fresh pain, vibrant and boiling, cut through the fog like a heat-blackened knife.

Your own fist flew into your mouth to mouth to suppress the cry that bubbled from your throat. You half-recognized it was the one holding Hawks’s feather.

You couldn’t see the way Keigo flinched at the sound, immediatly trying to soothe the two of you.

“Alright, good, okay, you can still feel them,” Hawks managed to laugh, cutting into the miasma of your psyche. It was something light and airy, tasting like packet sugar on the sides of your tongue.

Chasing the goodness of Hawks’s voice, you mustered up as much clarity as you could grasp, willing yourself into full sentences, “Hawks. I swear to fucking God, if you do not get me out of here right now, I will never make you a drink ever again.”

Keigo blinked at you, nodding, watching your attempt to focus on him, though the fully inked irises seemed to refuse to stay put.

So, this is what the file meant about the cost of your quirk.

“Don’t have to tell me twice, dove.” Hawks scooped you up before you could manage to put more thoughts together. A few of his feathers flew to stabilize your injured leg.

His touch felt good, like incredibly good. Even as the crunch of his boots on the broken glass of the tea shop scratched at your inner ears and burned your sinuses, the heat and texture of his jacket caressed over your cheeks. His warmth tasted like honey and cream.

Your head lolled onto his chest, idly playing with the filaments of his feathers that you refused to let go of.

(Keigo didn’t want you to, anyway.)

He couldn’t fly well, not in his mostly-featherless state, so he took to walking instead. He sidestepped as much glass he could, mostly watching your half-lidded eyes fixate on the feather you had pressed up to your face.

It was a weird circle, Keigo feeling your heat and breath so close, both on his body and on the sensitive plumage. Technically, he was doing his job, so he let himself indulge just the smallest bit in being so close to you. When Keigo squeezed you, nearly at the medic’s area, you tucked your face into his collarbones, breaths slowing from panic. You were even slack in his grip.

A paramedic rushed up to the two of you, guiding you to a setup stretcher and a waiting line of ambulances.

“We can take it from here, Hawks, no need to stick around,” The paramedic’s voice cut through the air, dripping bitterness on your tonsils and iron nails in your lungs.

Hawks set you half-down onto the lip of the vehicle, “Nah, it’s okay, I’ll hang out with them for a sec. They’re a friend of mine.”

He’d never said it before. That you were friends.

Heat rushed up to your fingertips, sweetness washing over your wounded leg, topped off silken air settling around your ears.

You’d drown in the sensation, a million times over.

The paramedic ran off quickly, a man with a nasty head wound taking precedence over your leg (which seemed to have clotted somewhat with your somewhat more relaxed state).

Hawks still didn’t leave.

Rather, he moved closer.

So did you.

From your spot sitting on the edge of the ambulance, your injured leg was twisted and propped up while the other dangled off the edge of the vehicle.

Keigo was right up against the metal, allowing you to lean on his side.

“You good?” You asked him, bumping your leg into his lower back.

Keigo couldn’t help jumping. You’d never casually touched him.

(He really liked it.)

Though the setting and circumstances were fucked, he figured it was okay.

You were friends, right?

Hawks wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pressing you into his side.

You took it a step further, wanting to simply soak in the amber, milky feeling of his touch.

You squish your cheek low against his collarbone, drinking in the smell of his sweat, stale, spiced cologne, and rich, expensive smelling hair oil.

The scents washed over your skin, rolling over your burning wounds like aloe and clean water.

“Thank you.” Your voice is small and soft, kept gentle by your last sparks of lucidity.

You heard Hawks chuckle, your vision swimming in honey and yellow with the sound, “Just doing my job, you know.”

“I mean, yeah,” You laughed too, pressing your nose harder into him. “But, it’s you, and I’m just glad you’re here.”

“You better stop being so sweet,” The hand around your shoulder rubbed slowly, up and down your spine, sweet spices and sugars dancing on the roof of your mouth. “Gonna give me ideas.”

The touch, something you craved and denied yourself, pushed you over the edge as his touch dissolved across your overstimulated mind in cresting waves of rushing, blessed heat.

Finally succumbing to the flood of your quirk, drowning your mind in both agony and absolute calm, you muttered out the last clear thing you said that evening, “We always give each other ideas, silly.”

God, the many meanings behind your words spun and stuck in Keigo’s mind like the taste of the miel he drank that morning. They relentlessly clung to his psyche, wanting to know more.

He stayed close while you were assessed and strapped into the ambulance. He sent a few of his last feathers to retrieve your jacket and purse from the wrecked shop.

All the while you clutched his bare hand, irises black while the whites turned bloodshot.

As the ambulance drove off towards that public hospital, he could feel the steady beat of your heart through the crimson feather he made sure was tucked in your hand the moment he had to let it go.

He felt you squeeze it, and he wanted nothing more than to return the gesture a thousand times over.

#salem writes #lavender latte #hawks x y/n #hawks x reader #hawks x you #takami keigo x y/n #takami keigo x you #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo reader insert #hawks reader insert #hawks fanfiction #reader insert #mha x reader #tw blood #keigo x reader #keigo x you #keigo x y/n

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bandaigaeru · 3 years

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gravitational pull - seo changbin

→genre: brief fake dating, childhood friends to weird enemies to fake lovers to real lovers →synopsis: he was a glimmering star of hope until he exploded, suspending your relationship into a seesawing gravity. →pairing: changbin x gender neutral reader →word count: 8.1k →warnings: hyunjins kinda mean at one point, mentions of alcohol

Mulch crunches beneath the adolescent shoes of your classmates. One intention is shared, in this playground warfare, and it’s to get a swing.

You disregard the heap rushing towards the ones closest, for your gaze is set on the far end of the swingset. And it is just within your reach. Your eyes narrow as you outstretch a palm, prepared to feel the coolness of the rusty chain.

The chain sways away from you beneath the harsh touch of another boy.

You stare at him with wide eyes, mouth fallen agape.

He smiles, the plastic seat dipping beneath his weight. “This one’s mine.”

A small shake in your tone as you return, “I was here first.”

“So? Everyone knows this is my swing.”

You slowly nod, taking small footsteps backwards. Hwang Hyunjin is bigger than you. And more accustomed with goons of friends. There’s no point in fighting.

Though as you start for the abandoned monkey bars (their vibrant red paint chipped to a sad haze) with blurry vision faulting your path, a voice booms over the rush between your ears.

You glance in the direction. A short boy sits in a stationary swing, smiling as though it is all he’s ever known. He waves you over.

Taking all of the precautions, you glance over your shoulder to make sure he’s talking to you. When you confirm, you drag your feet along the mulch.

You flinch when he stands, bringing guarding forearms to protect your face. The blow never comes.

“You can take my swing,” he says. You peek at him through your shield. His puffy cheeks are still indented with the smile. And his hands, not balled into a fist, lay calmly at his side.

You blink, slowly lowering your defense. “W-Why?”

He laughs, “That’s what friends are for. Duh.”

The laugh that trembles over your lips is shaky and foreign. You reach for the chain.

“I’ll push you!” he declares, rushing behind you as you steady yourself in the small seat.

He pulls you from the ground, the tips of your shoes trailing back amber woodchips.

The tip of your nose kisses the blue sky. Though, inevitably, the time comes when you must fall back to the earth. Steady hands push against your back, returning you to freedom. You find yourself grinning each time.

The next day, Changbin saves you the swing beside him. He waits until you are ready before kicking off on the ground. You swing in sync, sharing a few glances under the sun’s hugging rays.

It only takes a week before he’s begging his mother to arrange a playdate. And to your luck, he follows through with the promises, meeting you at your doorstep that Saturday. He guides you a block over to his house. He must be a good kid if his mother entrusted him with such a task, bringing two first-graders over. One returning home and one in need of a home away from home.

His mother is extremely nice, smiling at you each time you catch her eyes. She sets a plate of fruit on the coffee table while you and Changbin battle over the next Spongebob episode. His sister comes out of her room, too, asking you whether you prefer Barbies or Matchbox.

Elementary school passes like this. Recess is spent with his presence, as is lunch and gym and any class freetime. On the off days that it rains, barring you inside the school, you play Mancala. It’s totally civil. Not once does Changbin storm off when he loses. He merely shrugs and offers to set up the next round.

So unusual, though each time you find yourself smiling.

After an emotional graduation party—emotional for the teachers and family, you mean—he hands you a small piece of paper.

“What’s this?” you curiously look at him. His tie has loosened since the ceremony and his hair is ruffled by his father’s hand.

“My phone number. I won’t be in town this summer, but I still wanna keep touch with you.”

You smile down at the small digits. Neatly, you fold the post-it before slipping it into your pocket. You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into his touch as he wraps his arms around your waist. “I’m gonna miss you,” you announce, voice muffled by his shoulder.

“It’s only one summer,” he reassures. “Plus, I’ll bring you back something nice. A keychain or something.”

You laugh through the sting that stabs your body, nodding. One summer cannot mark the end of the world, you tell yourself as you watch his car drift over the hill leading into town.

ii.

On the first, dreaded, day of middle school, you scan the halls carefully. The new faces do not scare you as much as the lack of his does. Each call was sent to voicemail. And each time the dial sounded, you frantically returned the phone to the receiver. Maybe he had accidentally miswrote the number. Or maybe he was too busy to return your calls. Summer has that effect on people, you think, where you have so much fun you forget the things you used to do daily. Like a memory disorder.

You finally see him in the lunch line. A breath of fresh air invades your lungs as you rush over to him.

“Changbin! How was your summer? I called, but you never answered,” you grin, nudging his shoulder.

He does not shoot you a glance, nor does he send a glare. Instead, he keeps his eyes glued on his shoes. A sharp pain strikes your chest—that breath might have been poison.

You gently shove his shoulder again, forcing a shaky laugh as you continue, “Hello? Anyone in there?”

The boy in front of him spins on his heel. His eyes are cold, painful, as they meet yours. “Can’t you tell he doesn’t wanna talk to you?” Hyunjin scoffs. “Go somewhere else, dumbass.”

Hesitantly, you look to Changbin. Surely, he’ll defend you, right?

Right?

His eyes have traveled to the lunch menu, displayed on a TV in cheap font. Far away from this conversation.

You nod, looking back to Hyunjin. His abrasive eyes are still waiting for you, eagerly begging you to move on. “Sorry, then,” you murmur as you start for the bathroom that will become your haven.

Behind you, Hyunjin’s loud laugh taunts you. Hidden beneath it is a quieter one that stabs you in the chest. Something painful blurs your vision, twists your insides, and curls the corners of your lips as you try to fight it.

You were a fool to think he was different. Elementary promises should never be trusted.

Secondary school passes in dreary blinks. Watching Changbin run for class president. Bubbling in his name despite everything. Hearing Changbin got the lead role in Cinderella. Showing up despite the physics test you had to study for.

You wonder momentarily if Newton was behind this twisted feeling in your chest. Drawing you to him—like a moth to a flame. You even scan his sister’s Instagram from time to time, finding a picture of Changbin framed carefully beneath the stars, a twinkle in his eye.

You watch from afar as he accepts his diploma, a careful smile seated on your lips.

A bitter taste haunts your tongue as you pack for college.

“This is good for me,” you mutter to yourself. “I’ll be far, far away from him. I can move on.”

Some things are better left unsaid.

iii.

Awkward introductions replay in your memory as you get ready for your first college class. Seven fifteen, physics with Professor Kim. Denoted as one of the best in the country. Physicist and professor, respectively. It would be a lie to say he didn’t take part in your decision to attend this college. And the ocean, which is only a fifteen minute walk (that’s what the RA told you when you moved in).

You arrive with a hot americano precisely on time.

As you climb the lecture hall’s steps, your eyes drift among the sea of unfamiliar faces. One in particular sticks out—a glimmer of hope among the trenches. You raise a hand to wave, a smile quirking your lips. But, at the face directly next to him, you drift back.

Evidently, you didn’t move far enough.

You stand at the edge of the aisle, glancing down at the empty seat. “Hey, is this spot empty?”

Hope looks back at you with shock glazing his features. “Oh my God, Y/N! Of course. I didn’t know you decided to come here,” Minho smiles, tugging his notebook closer to allow you more room.

You pull out the chair, glancing at the boy on the other side of him. “I didn’t really tell anyone where I was going.”

He fills the silence with his tales of life, occasionally glancing at Changbin to see if he wants to add something. Each time, he is met with the boy’s indifferent profile. Mindlessly scrolling through his phone, though not once stopping to read one of the passing captions or like a picture.

Professor Kim claps, fizzling any remaining conversation. The syllabus fades in your mind as you wonder how Changbin’s summer went. Maybe he spent it with his sister. Or perhaps he accompanied a love interest to a string of dates.

This thought shoots a concoction of contradicting emotions through your heart. You return distracted eyes to Professor Kim just as he’s dismissing class, burying a content fist into the customly tailored pocket of his navy suit. Minho turns to you immediately, filling your ears with proposals to coffee and lunch and maybe you could come to the dorm later and catch up. Changbin’s ears perk up as he begs for Minho’s eyes.

For a split second, his eyes fall on you before they dart away.

“I need to get back to my dorm,” you announce when you can finally slip into Minho’s breaths of pause. “My roommate’s waiting.”

“Who’s your roommate? Maybe we know him.”

You fight a laugh when he finally glances back at Changbin, who has long since given up. “His name’s Yang Jeongin.”

iv.

While Minho is overly focused on you, begging you to tell him what happened after he moved in tenth grade, Changbin pretends you do not exist. When the conversations trail outside of the lecture hall, he clings to Minho’s side but does not speak. His eyes stay glued to the sidewalk. Or his textbook, whose cover he seems very invested in.

So when Professor Kim announces a project, your heart thumps a little too fast.

Minho grabs your arm, “Be my partner?”

Changbin kicks his leg. “Dude.”

He glances back at him, as though nothing he has said goes against him. “What? Just join our group.”

Changbin’s eyes find yours reluctantly. They ignite a spark in your fingertips as you reach for a pen. “Can I?”

You smile as your head twitches in a nod. “Of course.”

The plan is this: meet at the library on October 15th (a Saturday, you realize) at 1 P.M. “Expect to be there long, I wanna get this done ASAP,” Minho adds as he downs the rest of your americano.

When the day finally comes, despite your daily prayers that time would somehow freeze or somehow skip over the day, you leave your dorm right when you need to. Early October aids a brusque breeze, and you wrap your jacket around you as you approach the small crosswalk. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you dread the inevitable message.

Lee Minho [12:59 P.M.]: Sorry guys, I can’t make it. Mama Lee’s in town and wants to see her favorite son.

It’s too late to go home, you realize, when shoes scrape against the cement and a sigh penetrates the silence. “I cannot stand him,” the voice mutters behind you.

You turn to him, offering pitied condolences with a small smile. “Just the two of us, huh?”

He nods. “Guess so.”

A loud hum draws closer as his foot leans down for the asphalt. You look to the source, seeing a red car barreling down the street. You gasp, grabbing Changbin’s sleeve and tugging him back on the sidewalk. The horn echoes in the back of your head like an alarm.

His eyes are wide when they find yours. “T-Thank you,” he stutters, cocking his head a little. As though, for the first time, he is taking in your appearance.

You realize your grip is still tight on his wrist and you let go, tensing up. “You’re welcome.”

In the library, you work in silence. As though nothing happened outside. As though your entire history lies merely within the timespan of a few weeks. Minho serving as the mutual friend to your forced, awkward friendship.

He shoots you a dizzying look as he turns his packet to you. “Can you look this over?”

The tip of your eraser taps a number. “This has to be meters per second, not centimeters per second.”

A small sigh tumbles over his bottom lip as he realizes, “That’s why the final answer looked so weird. Thank you.”

The corner of your lip must have an opposite gravity to it, because it curls upward without intent.

Returning to class the next Monday leaves the soft hint of a calm lavender in the air. You share a quick, almost childish, glance with Changbin before settling back into the tune of physics. Newtons and joules and all the fun things that make up energy.

The next few weeks pass with a quiet hum, one that hangs in the background and, if you lose sight of it, you’re scared you’ll lose it forever. It’s a time of your life where you will look back with a sigh and whisper, “How did I not realize how good I had it?”

At your peak, you fall onto your bed on a Friday night. Jeongin scribbles impatient homework answers while your eyes fall shut.

The storm of your phone blaring its tune awakes you.

Lee Minho calls to remind you that he expects you to arrive at his ‘rager of a birthday party.’ He tells you the address, enthusiastically repeating himself (like an auctioneer) as you try to find a pad of paper. Jeongin’s jumping up to fix his hair before you even hang up.

You’re really not sure what you expect as you drag your roommate in tow towards the destination. Though, when you feel the tremble of music and hear shouts from the lawn of the frat house, you somehow know you’re in the right place.

The foyer is packed with jumping bodies. Leaning on the stairs, a red solo cup in hand, is the man of the hour. His cheeks are dusted in a light coating of heat and, as you approach him, you notice that glitter brushes soft highlights along his cheekbones.

“Happy early birthday!” you shout over the music.

He dizzily turns to you and drags you towards his chest in a swift motion. “Y/N! Thank you for coming!”

You had no choice. It was either come to the party or admit yourself to Lee Minho’s terrifying grudge list.

Despite this, you return with a grin, “Of course!”

When he lets you go into the stale air, he shoves his cup into your hand. “Try some,” he nods.

You tip the plastic to your lips. As the liquid scrapes the back of your throat, you flinch back. “What is this?” Your face twists.

“Just vodka and Coke.”

You hastily return the cup to him and glance around. Jeongin has disappeared to a desolate corner, you presume. A spark of jealousy runs through your veins.

“Where’s the bathroom?” you find yourself asking Minho.

He points down a vacant hallway and tells you it’s the last door on your left. You thank him before scurrying in that direction.

Your knock echoes, though nothing returns. The pale wood feels cold against your cheek as you listen for any life inside. You find it safe to enter. Instantly, you press your palms against the cold marble. Identical eyes stare into each other in the mirror until your eyes slip to the pale, spotless basin. You stare into the milky dome absently, pondering why you feel so odd being here. And for a moment you forget where you are, lost in the dizzying world of your thoughts.

Until you hear the choked sob from behind the shower curtain.

It takes you by surprise. Hesitantly, you reach out for the navy shield.

“Ch-Changbin?” you stutter, staring down at the boy in a mess of shock.

His legs are drawn to his chest as trails of tears line his cheeks. He lets out a squeak as he looks up to you. Arms fall to his sides as he leans forward. Though, he appears to have no intention of stopping, surrendering himself to gravity.

Your hands find his shoulders merely moments before his nose slams into the porcelain. “Are you drunk?” you whisper.

Though, in return, he sobs. “I’m sorry.”

Something pierces your chest. Your lips part to say something, but the words are clogged in your throat.

“I was such an idiot,” he slurs, swaying gently.

“What’re you talking about?” you finally ask.

His balled fist slams against the tub. “You!” he shouts, face twisting as he releases another cry.

You flinch back.

“My mom always asks how you’re doing, no matter how many times I tell her. My sister still has a grudge. Hell, even Hwang Hyunjin thinks I’m an idiot and he’s the one who tricked me into leaving you!”

He leans his cheek against the wall, once again releasing a cry. Though, this one, he fights to hold back. It scalds the air in a whimper.

Quieter, he admits, “You were the only person I’ve ever felt safe with.”

You sigh, looking down at your shoes. Those days when you wondered what had gone wrong, staring up at your blank ceiling and trying to relive his smile as quiet tears fell to your pillow, wash down the drain.

He watches intently as you climb into the tub. You do not look at him as you slowly lean against the wall he rests his cheek on. Instead, you stare at the mahogany finish of the small cabinets. Regardless, you can feel his eyes burning holes into your cheek. In this cold porcelain cage, all you can hear is the distant thumping of music and the occasional sniffle from the boy beside you. You smile at the familiarity of it, returning you to your former years cozied up on a playground. No worries back then, you jealously note with a muted snicker.

“I missed you,” you finally say. Tears blur your vision, warping the defined lines of wood into a mess of color.

When you bring yourself to look at him, his eyes are closed. You lean a little closer to see if he’s sleeping. Reluctant lips part as he whispers, his breath hot and reeking of tequila, “I missed you too.”

vi.

One of the things you come to realize is that Changbin’s smile has never changed. There’s still that little indent where his cheeks fold over and each time he offers a glimpse at it you are returned to the days of the swing.

Thanks to the drunken night (half drunken night, you should say, since he had enough for both of you), Changbin has allowed a sneak peek back to his life. Strictly over text, though. You’re not sure why he’s never asked to meet up—maybe it’s too much too fast, you think—but you cannot find it in you to complain. He’s back after all these years and that seems to be enough.

So you endure it, texting him until the early hours of the morning and fascinating yourself over all of these things you have missed.

Seo Changbin [2:39 A.M.]: My sister and I went to the elementary school a couple of weeks ago.

Looking at your phone burns your eyes, as does the weird feeling in your chest.

Y/N [2:40 A.M.]: Really? Has it changed much?

Seo Changbin [2:40 A.M.]: The kids after us got all the cool playground equipment :(

Seo Changbin [2:40 A.M.]: I should take you there one day haha. I think that’d be fun.

You fight the giggle that wishes to flee, glancing up at a sleeping Jeongin for reassurance.

Waking up in the morning is aided with fleeting regrets, though beneath it you realize there is a small skip in your step. One that flares a heat in your face when you walk into the physics classroom and reach to meet Changbin’s eyes. And there, waiting, is his gaze and a small smile.

Maybe you have it bad for Seo Changbin, you think, as Professor Kim begins talking about Newton’s Third Law.

vii.

Yang Jeongin is broadcasting his homework onto the cheap projector he bought on Amazon for $50. “Isn’t it so cool?” he marvels as his red pen underlines a key part of his notes.

You absently nod, glaring at your textbook. Between the lines is a screaming thought that cascades a waterfall of forget towards your upcoming exam. You fail to notice your phone buzzing against your bed. Daydreams are dangerous like that.

“Y/N,” Jeongin’s voice finally snaps you out of it. You look to him, standing at the door and lazily holding the knob. “You’ve got a visitor.”

Your heart leaps in your chest as you rush to take his spot. Before you can tug the door open, he presses a hand on your shoulder. “Be careful around him, please.”

You watch as he struts and flops down on his bed, opening a comic book above his head.

As you open the door, a little more hesitant than before the interaction with Jeongin, you smile.

Changbin is watching the end of your hall and playing with the sleeves of his hoodie. When he senses your presence, he finally breaks his trance and offers a smile. He keeps his voice low, “Can I talk to you?”

You nod, ignoring the annoying thump thump of your heart, “Sure. What’s up?”

“In private,” he adds, peeking over your head at Jeongin. Maintaining his hold on the comic book, though his eyes have drifted to you with a parental glare.

You shut the door behind you. His footsteps draw towards the common area, and you follow. There’s a silence draped over you until he abruptly stops in the middle of the hallway and turns to you. “I need you to pretend to date me.”

You blink. “W-What?”

He draws his bottom lip between his teeth momentarily before continuing, “I made a stupid bet and I kind of really need the money.”

A shroud of toughness hides your instant willingness to help. “What do I get out of this?”

His eyes radiate the innocence of a child. They draw you to a distant memory, one that you might have seen in a movie and forced into a memory, but you’re not sure. You were at his house after he broke his arm and he cried, those same eyes staring at you as he whined about how much it hurt. And how itchy his arm was beneath the cast.

Your heart softens, and you have to fight the crumbling beneath your feet.

“Whatever you want,” he assertively nods. “Seriously.”

You sigh. “Do you have a plan?”

“I always have a plan,” he smiles, pulling you into a grateful hug. His hoodie smells vaguely of ramen with a hint of sealike cologne you might find in Lee Minho’s bathroom. You find yourself smiling as your hands rest on his back.

viii.

His hand, admittedly, feels a little odd in your hand. The last time you had held his hand was in second grade, when you went to the zoo on a field trip. Your class was already flooding into the bird exhibit with anticipation and exuberance. But you were crying your eyes out at the mere thought of seeing a parrot. (This unfounded fear is all thanks to Spongebob)

Changbin’s hand slipped into yours and slowly urged you in, mumbling that if you didn’t go you’d get stuck there forever. And then, he had whispered, the parrots might eat us alive. Even then, his hand was oddly clammy and a little sticky.

But now, as he guides you through the small neighborhood, you feel a calm mix of elation and awkwardness. Sure, this is groundbreaking material for you and your “small” crush on him. However, he’s not doing this because he likes you. He’s doing this because he needs some cash and you were a means of aiding him.

“Where are we going?” you ask, a cloud of your breath expanding from your lips. It’s only the beginning of November.

“You’ll see,” he glances over at you, a small smile painted on his pale cheeks.

There’s a small line of shrubs on your side of the sidewalk. Serving as a break in them is a metal archway, accompanied by a small wooden sign reading: Gyeonghwa Park. He turns into it, guiding you into the small fenced area. A two person swing set stands in the corner, absent seats trembling in the breeze. There’s a few wooden benches, though most are tainted in a layer of leaves.

“Ta-da,” he says, gesturing with his free arm at the small park.

You look around to the little duck statue in the corner. “I don’t mean to be rude, but why are we here again?” you turn to him. His hand burns against your skin like a constant reminder.

“I can’t take you to our playground, so I thought we could settle for here as our first fake date,” he smiles. “Plus, we need couple pictures and I think this works well.”

You’re grateful for the breeze that dashes pink across your cheeks, disguising the heat that has rushed to them at his words. “R-Right,” you stutter.

He takes a seat on a leafless bench and slips his phone from his pocket. As you reluctantly sit beside him, you watch as he sends texts to his friends. Nothing regarding you, you presume, but when he feels your eyes he quickly closes the chat.

The pictures are poised carefully, his arm resting on the top of the bench behind you, your head tilted towards his as you smile. Without warning, he presses his lips to your cheek as the shutter clicks. You try not to make your flinch obvious.

He pulls back, smiling slightly as he inquires, “Should we kiss to seal the deal?”

Fire poisons your veins as you stare back at him. The invisible mark his lips had left sizzles in the air. “Do you think we should?” you whisper.

He shrugs. “It’ll make it a bit more believable. We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable, though.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. Kiss me.”

The corners of his lips upturn a little further, sending a shiver down your spine—though maybe it was just the wind. He readjusts his phone, glancing to assure you’re both in frame, before leaning in. At first, his lips merely wander in the air before yours, as though he is thinking about the best way to do this. But then, confident lips press against yours. His touch melts away the numbness in your fingers, the shiver of the cold. In this moment of freedom, you wonder if he had ever wondered what your lips tasted like. Because you sure have.

ix.

Each of your fake dates is constructed with careful attention to detail. A trip to the movies (seeing a film you had mentioned wanting to see very briefly over text). A study ‘date’ that didn’t really feel romantic, though he brought you an americano and a fancy pen he stole from his dad’s work.

But your date today is very special. The diner is filled to the brim with hungry college students and elderly couples. In the back, bunched up against the upholstery, are Changbin’s friends. They throw their heads back to laugh as one tells a stupid joke. Changbin leads you down the aisle slowly. He squeezes your hand, whispering over his shoulder, “Thank you, again, for doing this. It means a lot.”

You smile against your will,“That’s what friends are for.”

As you approach, the new and familiar faces turn to you. Some hold smiles, others hold gaping lips.

“I didn’t think you actually found someone willing to date you,” a boy marvels.

“Let alone Y/N! How come I didn’t know you were dating?” Minho shouts, garnering certain harsh looks from neighboring booths.

A glimmering smile finds your lips as you slide into the booth beside him, “You never asked.”

He scoffs. “Am I supposed to ask when anything life-changing happens?”

Changbin files in beside you, sighing, “Not necessarily, but you talk a lot.”

“How long have you been dating?” a boy across from you asks. His cheeks are dusted with light freckles, and a friendly smile paints across his lips.

“Nearly two months,” you glance at Changbin, who nods. The finer details, he stressed, must be known like the back of your hand. A single hair out of place could be the end.

“Are you serious?” Minho booms. His eyes are wide and his lips are parted. Even his eyebrows raise in awe, scratching dull wrinkles across his forehead.

“You do talk a lot,” you mumble.

Before Minho can have the chance to shout profanities aiding his awe, another boy sighs. “Shut up and congratulate them, okay? This is karma for laughing at him when he wanted in on the bet.”

“Thank you, Chan,” Changbin smiles, wrapping an adept arm around your shoulder. Instinctively, you lean into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder.

As the night unfolds, queued by digging questions and the occasional groan from Minho, you nearly forget that this is an act. That when Changbin presses a kiss to your forehead it’s not real.

Outside of the diner, as his friends disperse into their means of transportation, he cups your cheeks and presses a soft kiss to your lips. When he parts, there’s a small smile and a gloss hanging over his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispers.

He promises to pick you up at five. All that remains is the reward, you realize. A simple favor has brought you here, waiting impatiently for his knock on your door. Your heart beats harshly against your chest.

“Why are you even messing with him?” Jeongin mutters, stirring his ramen with the tips of his chopsticks.

You glance up at him, sighing, “I’m not messing with him. I’m doing him a favor.”

“Yeah, but, why? He’s an asshole, Y/N,” he shakes his head. As he shoves the steaming noodles into his mouth, he hisses at the heat and tilts his head to the side.

You watch him as he gulps down water.

At your prolonged silence, he adds, “When is he supposed to pick you up?”

You tap your phone screen, illuminating the time. “Five minutes ago.”

Jeongin drowns his harsh words with more noodles. Though, in between bites, he says, “Maybe he’s standing you up.”

The thought has crossed your mind, though a hollow in your chest wants to believe he wouldn’t do that. Friends, if that’s what you are, don’t do that.

Seconds drift into minutes. And minutes turn into an hour. Jeongin’s gone through three more ramen cups. Your lips ache as you nervously bite them, jumping for your phone at each notification.

At half past six, Jeongin rests into your bed beside you. “I’m sorry,” he whispers as he wraps a cautious arm around your shoulder.

Though, you do not feel anything aside from the irritation blurring your eyes. “Are you okay?” he asks. These simple words open the floodgate.

xi.

His eyes avert yours as though they had never known you in the first place. Minho doesn’t say anything when you lower yourself in the seat beside him. Instead, he cautiously slips you a small note. Large, scratchy words read: are you okay?

You crumble the note in your palm before tucking it into your bag. He does not bother you for the rest of class. Class travels by in grueling moments. Professor Kim’s voice seems slowed, stripped of any tone. When he finally dismisses class, warning that the semester is ending soon, you haphazardly shove your things into your bag and leave.

Over your shoulder, you hear a low smack and Minho mutter, “What the hell is the matter with you?”

It hurts to admit, given that you had known from the beginning, but Seo Changbin used you. Though, despite the anger you should be feeling, you can only find yourself wondering what he needed the money so badly for.

Back at the dorm, Jeongin silently pulls a piece of cake from the small fridge and hands it to you. “Here,” he mumbles. “My friend made it for you.”

You look up at him. “Why?” Your voice is raw from desuetude, crackles like an old radio.

Jeongin bites his lip, eyes slipping to your comforter. “I told him you were having a rough time. Plus, he knows Changbin, so he knows the story.”

You take the paper plate in your fingertips, dragging it toward you. You poke the delicacy with the tip of your fork. “What’s the story?”

A sigh slips past his lips. “That you guys dated and you broke up. That’s all Changbin told them.”

You nod. He must’ve gotten the money and thrown you away.

Your phone buzzes against the mattress. Jeongin leans over to check who it is. When his eyes meet yours again, he informs, “It’s just Minho.”

So you allow yourself to look at your phone.

Lee Minho [9:20 A.M.]: I’m outside your dorm. Let me in please.

You look up to the door, though your energy is below zero. Jeongin grabs your phone, reading the message, before going to answer the door.

“Hey, Jeongin,” Minho pushes past him. He sits at the foot of your bed. “What happened?”

You blink, eyes staring into his absently. “What?”

“With Changbin. Tell me what happened, please. He won’t tell us anything and I’m starting to get worried for both of you. He’s never this quiet and you’re never this sulky,” he reluctantly rests his hand on your knee.

You look at Jeongin, who stands there with arms against his chest. He shrugs, silently telling you it’s up to you.

You sigh. “Where do I start?”

“The beginning, preferably.”

“I think I fell in love with him, but I can’t tell you when. Maybe it was when we were kids. Maybe it was at the party when he apologized,” you slowly say. The words do not feel like yours. A small pit rumbles in your stomach, begging you to continue. “He wanted a favor, to pretend to date him for that bet you guys made. I didn’t ask why he needed the money or why I should do this for him, given all he did to me. I just went with it. And things were great, as far as fake relationships go.”

In your break of silence, you find yourself smiling at all the fake dates. You wonder if the pictures still live in his phone or if he discarded them the moment he got rid of you.

“So you guys faked the whole thing?” Minho’s eyebrows furrow.

You nod. “He was supposed to pick me up on Saturday, but he stood me up. And now we’re here.”

Minho blinks. “Either Changbin’s a good actor or he’s a fucking asshole.”

“It’s the latter,” Jeongin announces as he crosses to his bed.

Minho shakes his head. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Don’t tell him what I said,” you rush. “About loving him or anything.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

After he leaves, Jeongin loudly sighs. “I knew you were in love with him.”

You look at him, slowly nodding, “I didn’t really make an effort to hide it.”

xii.

There are tears irritating your skin as you pull yourself out of bed. Surviving off of Felix’s cake and Jeongin’s ramen cups is less than attractive, but you cannot build enough will to leave your dorm. You ask Minho to take notes in physics for you and he quickly obliges, no questions asked.

Changbin, still, plagues your mind like venom. Each time you think maybe a nap is in order, you shut your eyes and see his smile. Or you’ll think of his lips on yours as he smiles into the kiss. Your eyes shoot open, chest rising heavily. Even when you stare at your ceiling too long, your brain deems it a screen for a memory to play. Casted like Jeongin’s cheap projector.

There was this once, in fourth grade when you grew bored of the swings so you relocated to the plastic blue tunnel. He blocked off one end while you took the other. On hotter days, you’d lay on top of the tunnel. One day, he looked at you across the plastic and asked, “Do you ever think we’ll be grown ups far away from each other?”

You shook your head so confidently. “No. We’re gonna live together. Like roommates.”

Jeongin comes home from his classes with a cup of coffee. He sets it on your nightstand as he whispers, “I’m spending the night at Chan’s tonight. Call me if you need anything.”

You take a sip of the americano. “Thanks, have fun.”

In his wake is a dreaded silence that reminds you of Changbin’s laugh. Time has only plagued it with a dash of depth.

Your phone buzzes. Hesitantly, you roll over and grab it. The metal is cold against your fingers.

Lee Minho [4:29 P.M.]: Hey, I need you to come to the beach. There’s something I want to show you.

The thing that tipped you over the edge when looking for a college was the beach. As you carefully scouted, the grains of sand kept drawing you back. It’s ironic as you realize that you haven’t been once, despite its proximity. You can already feel the bitter cold against your cheeks as you rise from your bed. Dots of dizziness scatter across your eyes.

The mid November air is cooler than you expected as you step out of the complex. You shove balled fists deeper into your hoodie pocket.

The walk to the beach is shorter than you had expected, only passing ten minutes. You see Minho waiting on the wooden slats leading to the sand. He jumps to preserve his heat.

“Hey,” you call out to him.

He looks to you, daring to unveil a pale hand as he waves. When you’re closer he says, “It’s fucking cold out here.”

You nod, looking out onto the vacant sand. Huddled like a speck of trash is a small figure.

“Why’d you want to meet out here?” you return to look at him, a piercing cold slashing your heart at the realization.

His face softens as he glances out towards the black speck in the sand. “Well, he wanted to meet you here but he wasn’t sure if you’d come if he texted. So he dragged me out here.”

You find yourself laughing. “And you agreed?”

“I didn’t know it was negative twenty out here,” he mutters. “So go and talk to him so I can get back in my car.”

You smile. Your heart thunders against your chest and, even though you know you shouldn’t, your feet move towards the small figure. He tugs you in, time and time again.

You glance over your shoulder when you reach him. Minho’s already gone, as though his presence was merely a ghost. You squat next to Changbin, wrapping your arms around your knees.

He looks at you, though you keep focused on the pale water. Brushing up on the sand, pulling back into the ocean.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

You nod. “You always say that.”

“I really am,” he admits. “I know you probably think I’m an asshole, reasonably so, but I really am sorry for everything.”

You finally look at him. “What’d you need the money for?”

He’s taken aback. He had expected more of a heartbreaking confession, a perspective he had not once explored. “Music equipment,” he says. “It’s really for me, Chan, and Jisung.”

You nod, looking back at the water. “I was just a ragdoll so you could get that.”

“Not really,” he whispers. “It was kinda a double positive for me.”

Furrowed eyebrows turn back to him.

“I got the money,” he starts, “and I also got the luxury of pretending to be yours.”

You blink. Your voice is small, barely audible over a gust of wind, “What?”

“Every time I did something stupid that got in between us, I always knew I’d find my way back to you. I was the tide and you were the moon, reaching out and tugging me back into reality. Time and time again, as we’ve come to understand,” he nods, glancing at his red fingers, bitten by the air.

You stare at him. “So why do you keep pushing me away?”

He shrugs. “There was always the fear that you didn’t want to bring me back.”

You scoff, remembering your childhood and the way he kept drawing you closer. You shake your head, words failing you.

“So truly, I am so sorry. You still have your end of the deal, you know. You get whatever you want. You can tell me to fuck off and I’ll go home. Sure, I’d be a little heartbroken, but-”

You cut him off, “Why would I ever do that?”

“Because I treat you like shit to fuel this stupid ideology that you don’t hate me,” he admits. “Even when I don’t try to be, I’m a selfish asshole. I only kissed you because I wanted to, not because of the stupid pictures for the bet. I only asked you for the favor because I wanted to paint this stupid little picture in my head. I only stood you up because I couldn’t bring myself to face you and admit that my stupid fantasy was over.”

“That’s not selfish,” you say. “That’s just very Seo Changbin of you.”

“I really cannot tell if you hate my guts or not,” he sighs, picking up a handful of sand and watching as it trickles down again.

You shake your head. “Minho didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

You look back at the empty space where the ghost once stood. A sigh of a distant nostalgia slips from your lips—the times you’ve pictured this moment over and over in your daydreams. However, you did not imagine the bitter bite of the wind nipping at your cheeks. “That I’m in love with you.”

“You what?” he gawks, leaning a bit closer. As though his ears deceive him.

Your eyes return to his as you nod. “I love you. I probably have since we were kids. That’s the only reason I agreed to your favor. Because I, too, wanted to be a little selfish.”

His lips slowly curl up into a smile as he releases an abrasive laugh. “How much did Minho pay you to say that?”

“He didn’t. I’m being completely honest. Why else would I be here if I wasn’t stupidly in love with you, huh?”

“Really?”

“Yes, now can we speed this up? It’s fucking cold out here.”

He presses his lips against yours. You expect them to mold against yours like they had in previous weeks, but now they are fiery. It sends tingles down your spine as he cups your cheek. With those internal feelings finally suspended from your body, you can sigh a breath of relief.

You wonder if younger you would be proud.

xiii.

“Are you guys actually dating now or are you just fucking with us again?” one of Changbin’s friends, Jisung, asks as you slide into the same booth as a few weeks ago.

“They are,” Minho intervenes. “I watched them confess and everything. Like a minister.”

“Bullshit,” you mutter. “You went back to your car as soon as I got there.”

Changbin’s laugh tickles against your ear as he scoots in next to you.

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t revoke the award,” the freckled boy, who you’ve now concluded is Felix, observes.

“Why?” Jisung asks, bringing the straw of his soda to his lips.

“Because we would have had to give it right back.”

His friends are very welcoming of you, despite the deception that marked your first greeting. Chan catches you in the parking lot as Changbin and Jisung fight over the extra mint the server placed on the table.

“I just want you to know,” he starts with a smile, “that he really loves you. It’s not a front, I promise.”

Your eyes crinkle at the corners as you ask, “Those are suspicious words. How should I trust you?”

“Because he talks about you all the time. I know more about your childhood than I know about mine. Plus, he’s written three songs about you and we don’t even have the equipment to record anything yet.”

You laugh, “You’re in luck, then.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Why?”

You smile, shaking your head. “You’ll find out.”

Changbin returns to your side, a sullen scowl pressed against his lips as he watches Jisung pop the mint into his mouth. Chan dismisses himself to attend to Felix attempting to teach Minho a taekwondo move.

You look over at Changbin, “You’ve written songs about me?”

His eyes widen, “No? Why would I ever do that?”

A giggle bubbles up from your stomach as you shake your head, starting off to his car. Behind you, he repeats the same question urgently.

xiv.

Seo Changbin is like a pest that flies around your head, begging your attention at all moments of the day. He invited you over to his dorm so you could study together, though when you arrived with your textbook and notes, he appeared offended.

“What?” you asked as you settled on his bed, fluffing pillows before leaning against them.

“Studying doesn’t mean studying, it means cuddling,” he pouted.

It’s lucky for him that Minho isn’t home because if he ever heard those words falling from his lips, he’d never hear the end of it.

So that’s why you’re laying your head on his pillow, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as you read over your notes.

“What’s the formula for Newton’s law of universal gravitation?” you quiz him when you feel his arms start to loosen with the temptation of sleep.

He hums, “I don’t know. You’re the one with the strong magnetic force. Shouldn’t they call it Y/N’s law of universal gravitation?”

You sigh, setting the spiral notebook on his nightstand before you turn in his arms to face him. The hint of a smile already greets you. You press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. “What’s your grade in physics?”

He looks up at the ceiling as he pretends to think. “38.”

“What?” you hiss, pulling back away from him as though he has an illness you didn’t know about.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that,” he whines, pulling you back. “I only signed up for the class because it reminded me of you.”

You smile. “Why?”

He shyly pouts, “I may have gone out of my way to hear about you when we were in high school.”

“And you never thought to apologize?” you counter, your smile still reigning.

“You looked like you were doing fine without me,” he shyly admits.

“Changbin,” you shake your head. “I had no friends after Minho moved. I chased after you, thinking maybe something would happen.”

He closes his eyes. “Tell me you didn’t see me in Cinderella.”

“I saw you in Cinderella,” you laugh.

He throws his head back and whines. “The pants they put me in were two sizes too big.”

The memory of him standing on stage and having to hold up his pants, disguising it by having his hands on his hips, brings another laugh to the air. “Did they really not have any clothespins or anything?”

“No!” he exclaims, looking back into your eyes. “Fucking Hyunjin was hoarding them all!”

You feel the vibrations of your laugh against the pillow. It’s good being like this, having him tethered close.

He’s in the middle of saying something, probably further pursuing his complaints about high school or Hyunjin, but you do not care. You press your lips against his. A moment of stillness, thanks to his shock, before he kisses you back.

The only word to describe this feeling brewing in your stomach: bliss. Pure, hot bliss.

You hope gravity will keep you grounded here.

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brelione · 4 years

Text

Neon (Sarah Cameron x Reader)

This Is That Good Gay Shit Right Here

It had been study period.You sat across the table from Sarah at the library in the large kook school.You werent really a kook,you just had the money of one.You acted and dressed like a pogue and your friends were pogues as well.You didnt wear your school uniform.Instead you wore JJ Maybanks shirt and a bracelet that Pope had made you.You hung out around the boys a lot,every single day.You’d go surfing with them and drink cheap beer.You wore John B’s socks and the boys would often tease you about the school you went to full of rich princesses.Sarah watched everything you did.You did the same thing every single study period.You’d take out the same notebook every time and sketch lines out with a pencil.When there was two minutes left of the period she watched as you’d grab a neon marker and swipe strokes across the paper precisely.The things she’d do to know what you spent so much time drawing.She never got any studying done during study period,she was too busy watching you.She watched as your nose would scrunch up when you messed up a line or how you would throw your hair back aggressively when it got in your way.She was just so fascinated by you.

It had been a bad morning for Sarah.She hadnt been able to get a good breakfast or do her hair properly or even have a nice cup of coffee.She was at her locker,chatting with Kiara when she saw you.You were wearing some rather short shorts and a neon blue striped shirt.She couldnt help but stare at you.You looked amazing,hair up in a messy bun,a generous amount of bracelets on your wrist that you had collected over the years and that neon shirt.You were so effortlessly gorgeous she just couldnt wrap her head around it. “What are you looking at?”Kiara asked.Sarah laughed it off,saying she zoned out but couldnt help but stare at you out of the corner of her eye.She knew you and Kiara were close friends in the eighth grade but had drifted a bit.She looked you up and down multiple times,eyes falling to a mark on your jaw.She couldnt quite tell what it was but she knew it wasnt a birth mark.She had looked over your face so many times she could probably draw it from memory.

Neon streaks covered your hair.Pink,green and blue.The morning had been a rather chilly one.You wore a thin brown leather jacket over a white crop top,not that the crop top could be seen due to your arms and jacket covering your torso.Sarah knew it was fake leather.She had heard you talking about your love and appreciation for cows so she knew that you’d never wear something made out of their skin.She stared at the neon streaks in your hair,the way the light reflected off of the colorful streaks and how two neon yellow pieces of hair framed your face.Only you could pull off that look,she thought.She had never actually spoken to you but she felt that she knew you so well.Noone hated you,no one even disliked you.You didnt fit in in any way shape or form but there was something about you that just dragged everyone in.Every night before she went to bed Sarah would scroll through your instragram.It was a public account because clearly you didnt really care about who followed you and who saw you.Her thumb would hover over the follow button but she never pressed it.

Neon pink was the color of the bikini you were wearing when she saw you on the beach.The bottoms were high waisted,your hair up in a bun and she couldnt help but think about how brilliant your boobs looked in that top.You were sitting next to JJ Maybank,giggling about something as you talked to him.She wanted to be the one to make you giggle like that.JJ said something to you and you nodded before he ran off.You rolled your eyes,continuing to walk by the water.Sarah watched as you bent over to pick something up.She watched as your face of happiness became one of worry.She watched as you ran to find a stick and a leaf.She watched as you got a small creature onto the leaf and ran down to the water,placing the leaf down.She grinned as you were smiling again,scooting the creature along.She took a deep breath,walking down the sandy hills towards you. “Hi, (Y/N),right?”She asked.She didnt have to ask.She knew your first,middle and last name.She knew your siblings names,your pets names,your parents names,your cousins names.She knew your favorite foods,your zodiac sign and your favorite animal.She had spent hours stalking your instagram and going through the people you followed to find your mother.Once she found your moms instagram she found her facebook and that lead to Sarah learning many details about your life.You nodded,turning to see the blonde. “Sarah Cameron.”You nodded.She blushed.She never knew her name would sound so good coming from you. “So,what brings you to the beach on this lovely morning?”You asked.SHe shrugged. “Just...hanging out.”She replied.You nodded. “You want me to hang out with you?”You smirked.She blushed. “Sure,umm do you maybe wanna come to my house?”

Neon green was the color you painted you painted your nails while the two of you were hanging out at her house a week later. “Hey (Y/N)?”Sarah asked as she held a pillow to her chest,wresting her chin on it. “Yeah?”You asked.Sarah blushed,squealing into her pillow.That caused you to look at her with furrowed eyebrows.The boys never acted like this.Sarah was really quite different from the guys.She was stunning and giggled a lot and made your heart thump. “So like-do you like anyone right now?”She asked.You sighed.Why?Why that question?What the hell were you supposed to say?You just shrugged. “Oh my god!You’re blushing!Who is it?”Sarah faked enthusiasm.She wanted to frown and roll her eyes but that would definitely give it away. “God,Sarah.You ask so many questions.Why dont you just guess?”You asked.She bit her lip,staring at your bright finger nails. “Well...where do those little marks on your jaw come from?”She asked.You laughed. “You can say the word hickey,Sarah.”You grinned.You and JJ had a sort of friends with benefits thing going on.It wasnt exclusive or anything,just something to do when you were bored or horny or whenever you were mad.

He had always had the biggest smirk on his face afterwards.He’d ask you who you had thought about during it.You never told him. “Just because I have hickeys doesnt mean I like someone.”You replied.She frowned. “How can you do that?Like do someone and then not have any thoughts or feelings afterwards?”She asked.You smiled,blowing on your fingernails. “I just think of someone else.”You shrugged.She gasped. “So you do like someone!”She exclaimed. “Whats the first letter of his name?”She asked.You rolled your eyes,butterflies building in your stomach. “S.”You repled.She bit her cheek. “Seth?”She asked.You shook your head. “Whats the next letter?”She asked.You bit the inside of your cheek. “A.”You told her.She’d have to catch up eventually.Her eyebrows furrowed. “Uh...Sam?”She asked.You shook your head with a big grin. “The next letter is R.”You told her.She’d have to get it eventually.Her heart thumped a bit and she tried not to blush.

She was getting really excited at the possibility that it could be her.No boys name had those three letters in a row. “Next letter please.”She pouted.You blushed,looking away from her. “A.”You told her.She raised her eyebrows,eyes darting around the room. “Is it a girl?”She asked.You nodded,nervous for her reaction.She could have squealed in that moment. “Im Bi,Sarah.”You told her.She held her head in her hands. “Same.”She replied.You gasped quietly. “Shut up!”You exclaimed.She giggled. “Wait-is it Sarah Carpenter?Shes kind of a bitch,dont you think?”She asked.You bit on your lip. “Sarah,its you.”You avoided her gaze.You didnt even notice her lunging forward and wrapping her arms around you tightly and kissing your forehead. “This is really embarrassing-but ive liked you since the beginning of ninth grade.”She grinned.You giggled,kissing her nose. “Are you serious right now?”You asked.She nodded. “Dead serious.”She replied.

“Why didnt you talk to me or something?”You asked.She bit her lip. “I didnt know that you were into girls!”She exclaimed.You rolled your eyes,sure that your face couldnt be any more red. “Sarah,I have dyed hair,short nails and I cuff my jeans.It couldnt be any more obvious.”You kissed her cheek.She looked down at her lips,pecking them gently.There was a knock at the door.You pulled away from eachother. “So yeah,grilled cheese sandwiches are so much better than tuna and if-Oh,hey rafe.”You greeted the tall boy standing at the door. “dinner.”He said quietly,winking at you before leaving.You and Sarah laughed,going downstairs.

Neon pink was the color of the beaded bracelet Sarah had made for you.That bracelet was tied to your wrist as you stared at Sarah.Her white dress,the diamond crown on her head as she held your hands. “You may kiss your bride.”Pope read off.You kissed Sarah gently,holding onto her waist.You rested your head on her shoulder as you hugged,JJ and Kiara screaming from the crowd and clapping loudly.Dear god youd think they would be the ones getting married with how excited they were.Sarah sung the words to We Fell In Love In October into your ear as you danced together.She kissed your cheek,your temple and your collarbone as she giggled.You had never loved anyone more,nor had you ever been happier.JJ had literally tackled you after the ceremony,spinning you around. “YOU GOT THE GIRL,BITCH!”He shouted.You laughed,punching him lightly on the shoulder.Kiara hugged you as well. “I’ve gotta get married next now,dont I?”She asked,glancing over at Pope.You nodded. “Hell yeah.”You replied,slapping her arm in excitement. “This is some great ass cake.Why the neon frosting though?”Rafe asked,poking at the frosting with his fork.He had somehow gotten off the drugs and stopped being such an asshole...most of the time.Sarah laughed,shrugging. “My baby loves neon.”She replied,watching in awe as you danced around with your cousin,dress twirling at your feet.

#sarah cameron #sarah cameron x reader #madelyn cline #jj maybank #sarah cameron imagine #girl in red #kiara carrera #pope heyward #rafe cameron #sarah cameron x you #outer banks #obx kiara #obx #obx sarah

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mrfutureboy · 3 years

Note

I would like to know when you started drawing and where your passion for fanart started 😊

Oh FUCK dude i did not see this i’m so fucking sorry this is so late 😭 damn you, tumblr, for not fucking notifying me!! Anyway buckle up this is gonna be much longer than you asked for <3

Honestly ive kinda been drawing all my life! I hope that doesnt sound dumb cuz obviously almost everyone drew pictures when they were kids, but i know that it’s been a consistent hobby for me since i was little. By the time i was in 3rd grade I was hoarding notebooks to draw in. Cuz that’s something fun about me: i had a real huge habit of drawing in things that werent sketchbooks. Through middle school and beyond I did buy/receive sketchbooks, but I started out with various kinds of notebooks. One I had from like 2nd grade was like a hardcover, stationary-type notebook that I drew cats in lol, and I have 2 velvet lisa frank notebooks from 3rd grade. In high school and college I had a really bad habit of drawing in the margins on my notes and on handouts the teacher/professor would give. Those classes where the prof just prints out all the notes beforehand and gives them to you to follow along? Oh man, I spent so many classes barely listening while I drew on them! I also used to draw on my physics homework and tests and sometimes I even got extra credit for them (thank you jeff :D). I actually have a folder of various drawings I’ve kept from that 8yr time period and a lot of them are on classwork 😂

Obviously, I’ve been doing a lot of digital art lately, which I’m sure is what u were more curious about rather than the shit about drawing on my homework. I got a surface pro as a graduation gift in 2016 bc prior to that i had a wacom tablet and a janky ass laptop, so the gift was kinda a 2-in-1: i can do schoolwork AND art easily! i like digital art a lot and honestly im still learning new things abt it every time i draw. I use Leonardo currently (i’ll skip that story) but I started out doing digital art on sketchfu WITHOUT the wacom tablet in maaaaybe 2012??? 2011??? does anyone on this site remember sketchfu? Honestly couldnt even tell u how i found that site hahah the internet was just full of wonders back in the day. RIP sketchfu. Once i got the tablet tho some time later i used sketchfu still (i think) but also gimp and krita i believe.

Oh i suppose I should mention that i took art all four years of highschool and also minored in it in college! So it’s something i did academically as well as for fun. I keep thinking about going to art school for realsies but idk. I’m already $$$ in debt from my first degree i dont feel like adding to that 😅😓

Ok now for the second part of your question: I’ve also pretty much always done fan art! Ive never really been one for OC’s, EXCEPT for the self-insert superhero double life “comics” i wrote about a poodle named Sassy when i was in third grade. And then the knock off “comics” i wrote at a later time which honestly it was weird that i did a knock off of my own thing rather than just adding them to the original or making it a spin off with at least one of the og characters. Cuz it wasnt a spin off!! But anyway there wasnt really much to any of these characters; i just needed vessels to get my weird ideas out.

So anyway yeah most of what ive ever drawn has been fan art or self portraits, because its just easier for me to take characters that already exist and bend them to my will (artistically). Well excluding art assignments in school i guess because i would usually have to draw something specific and therefore not something self indulgent. But yeah ive drawn for lots of fandoms like the earliest i remember is warrior cats. Then theres things like pokemon and warriors and random other books i read thru middle school (i used to read a LOT but now im practically illiterate); spn, sherlock, and marvel through high school; and then marvel and bttf thru the end of hs and beyond. Idk i also have always loved looking at other peoples fan art and so im like “shit i wanna do that too!”. Tho i will say marvel was my biggest fandom and the one i had the longest interest in, so that was probably where the passion REALLY came from cuz I was drawing marvel stuff for such a long time (tho not posting shdjsk u have to trust me), but ive been doing fan art forever :)

(Of course, a lot of the fan art i was making prior to recently was drawn in lined notebooks or on homework sheets or what have you, and I wasn’t posting really any of it, but i was still making it and a good chunk of it still exists. Oh i should also mention most of it was with pencils or ballpoint pens like i wasnt doing anything too fancy. There was some digital art in the highschool-college time frame but it also really wasnt…much. Honestly i barely posted any of it here but I know some of it’s on deviantart)

I cant pinpoint the exact time I started getting more “serious” about my art in general, but i know the first pandemic lockdown gave me more free time and i was less stressed about schoolwork so i just kinda had a good outlet. (Tho i will say that prior, I had been in a life drawing club for a short while, and i had also been working on a personal sketchbook project that had me pretty ~inspired~ to do art. Also i watched twin peaks around this time and it inspired a lot of Feelings and i was making funky collages and other art pieced that were sometimes related to that. Some of those are on deviantart)

Honestly I think the Big thing with my digital art was coincidentally getting back into BTTF the summer of the 35th anniversary bc the fandom here was THRIVING and i was like “oh shit wait i want to contribute!” But as i kept drawing i kept wanting to improve and that leads us to right now where im constantly trying new things (whether subtle or obvious) and challenging myself to do full body drawings with different poses, and doing screencap redraws and what have you for various reasons (backgrounds, proportions, pose, etc)

So yeah :) Basically I’ve been doing fan art forever (I didnt even get into all the mediums ive tried but that’s another conversation bc this is already so long and convoluted) and it’s kinda coincidental that ive suddenly really gotten back into it and have improved dramatically in such a short time. Thank you so much @rovermcfly for the ask and again im really sorry you had to wait so long for a response! Stupid tumblr

#rovermcfly #signed sealed delivered #THANK U SM I HOPE U ENJOY KY RAMBLING :)#id love to ramble more if theres anything else u’d like to hear about my art journey :) bc i know this is all over the place lmfao #i will say some periods of life were a bit more inspired than others and thats bc i like will not draw if im too stressed #bc likely if im too stressed im too tired. see: a few weeks ago when that job was draining my life force

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squishneedsahero · 3 years

Text

Unknowns

Lost to Time | Part 3

Word Count: 2106

Summary:

The story of an original character, Allison Bennett. Growing up black in the short period between the world wars wasn't easy but Allison had friends who stuck with her no matter what. She was ambitious and had a million things she wanted to achieve in her lifetime and would try only to be told by the world that due to who she was it wasn't possible and she'd never live up to her dreams.

The last thing Allison remembered was a bright flash of white light. She can feel herself lying on a bed, the sheets were soft and there was a blanket lying on top of her. Her body ached and she couldn't convince herself to open her eyes.

She doesn't know how long she lies there somewhere between waking and sleep. But she stays there as her body aches, she hurt all over, inside and out. Her skin felt as though it was on fire and her bones felt too big for the space they had. It was the oddest feeling she had ever felt but she slowly grew used to it, well either that or the pain slowly subsided.

Eventually she moves enough to open her eyes. She found herself staring at a white ceiling in a well lit room. The room was pristine and Allison could see nothing out of place as she began to move her head about to look around.

As she looked around she came to realize she was in a hospital room. It was different from other hospital rooms which she had been in but it definitely was a hospital. It's as she begins to sit herself up that she realizes she has an IV in her arm and has a few other tubes attached to her body. She looks at them but doesn't remove them, despite not being sure what they were for.

She hears some voices outside her room when she has sat up but she ignores them to look around a bit more. She finds her notebook on the bedside table and reaches over to pick it up. She moves it to her lap and opens up its tattered pages, as she does this a woman enters the room.

"Hello, ma'am it is good to see you awake."

Allison pauses a moment before opening her mouth, "Hello... what hospital am I in?"

"You're in the Brooklyn hospital center," the woman pauses for a beat. "May I ask you a few questions as we have not been able to identify who you are or find any relatives of yours."

Allison's mind is groggy so she takes a moment to respond but eventually she nods, "yes, I'm Allison Bennett, I don't have any relatives they all passed during the war."

"Excuse me, war ma'am? Which war did they pass during?" The nurse asks the two questions, clearly confused and her confusion does nothing but confuse Allison further.

Allison pauses a moment trying to figure out how to explain the war to someone who was so confused, how long had she been asleep for? Had the world so quickly forgotten the war against the Axis powers? "The war, the one that ended a few years back, against the Germans and Japanese?"

The look of confusion on the woman's face slowly turns to realization then shock. "Alright ma'am I will go see if I can find you in our records," and with that she quickly left the room.

Allison didn't protest, allowing the woman to leave, though she slowly began to inspect the various tubes going off of her body. She begins to identify what they are and what it each one's purpose is. During this inspection the pain in her body subsides and she begins to feel back to her normal self.

It's another hour after that when the woman comes back to see Allison once again. The first thing out of her mouth is, "is this you? Allison Everly Bennett, born October 28th 1918?"

Allison doesn't understand why the woman is so confused about this but she nods, "yes that is me," once she has an answer the woman immediately leaves once again. When the woman closes the door behind her Allison can hear voices, more voices than before begin to speak in the hallway outside of her room.

It isn't long before a man in uniform enters Allison's room. He closes the door behind him and is silent for a moment. It's when this happens that it finally clicks for Allison that there is something more going on than what it is they have told her. Sure she's smart but with a groggy mind after her last experiment sent her to the hospital, she's a bit slow to put things together.

"What's going on?" Allison asks before she has time to think about who she is talking too or even if she should be speaking.

The man clears his throat, "ma'am- Ms.Bennett I have news which I need to inform you of," if anything the man in front of her seems nervous, "according to the police a missing persons report was filed for you back in 1949."

Allison nods slowly, yes that was when she had been doing research, why is that such a big deal?

The man takes a breath before continuing, "it is August 2015 ma'am. You've been missing for 66 years."

In the moment what he is saying passes over her head. It wasn't until he said how long that she had been missing that things began making sense. She sits straight up in bed, staring at the man in shock. "It's 2015? How?- How long have I been asleep for?"

"Ms.Bennett, please stay calm we are working on figuring this out. You were found unconscious in the lobby of a building a week ago and they brought you here. Nobody knows where you were before that. You've only been in this hospital for a week."

It's another few moments before Allison responds, "alright, thank you for letting me know... may I speak with a doctor about getting these things off of me so I can get out of bed?"

The man seems surprised by how calm Allison is, in reality Allison is freaking out but she keeps it all in. That was all she had been able to do with her emotions the last four years of her life as she'd been alone. Getting upset in front of strangers wasn't something she could afford to do. The man nods and steps back out of the room, the door shutting for a moment before the nurse enters once again.

"Let me just check your vitals once more before we detach all these from you and get you out of this room."

Allison nods, staying silent as she is unsure what would leave her mouth if she were to open it. It isn't long before she is out of bed and given some shoes to wear. She picks up her notebook and takes a breath before carefully leaving the room behind the nurse.

Outside her room there's a group of both doctors and officers in uniform. The one who seems to be in charge steps forward, "hello Ms.Bennett, my name is Agent Everett Ross and I'm going to help you figure some things out."

Allison once again simply nods in response as she is lead down a few flights of stairs and is put into the back of a car with Mr.Ross. Once they are in the car the man faces her, "may I?" He asks and gestures towards the notebook she clutched in her hands.

She hands it over, "yes, just be careful with it as it is always trying to fall apart."

He nods, "of course." He takes the book carefully and begins to look through it. Wanting more personal information about the woman beside him, other that the little bit of official information they had gained from government records and police reports.

As he looks through her nots Allison finds herself staring out the window in awe of the city. She knew these streets, she had been raised running around on them. They were all so familiar, and yet nothing was the same as she remembered. There were new buildings in place of some of the ones which had been old during her lifetime. There were other buildings she remembered being under construction that were now finished and looked ancient compared to the newer ones.

Eventually Everett draws her attention back from the buildings to himself. He has the book opened up to the pages where she had pasted in the condolence letters, he reads them then looks at her. "How did you come across these two letters of condolence for one Steve Rogers and one James Barnes?"

Allison pauses, once again reminded how she had been removed from the narrative. History didn't want to remember that Steve had had a girl as one of his closest friends, let alone the fact that she was a black woman. "I grew up with them, the stories seemed to forget about me but I was there," she admits quietly.

Agent Ross nods and goes back to looking through her notes and she goes back to looking out the window. He had asked his questions, giving no indication as to whether or not he believed her. The next time she looks over to him he is pulling out a small box like device and begins tapping on one of its faces.

"You say you grew up with Steve Rogers?" He asks again in confirmation.

Allison nods once again, and Everett sets the device down after he finishes up with it. "Yes, I grew up with him. We met when we were 6, and we attended the same school. He saved me from some bullies and we got close after that," she goes on for a bit, feeling for the first time in forever peace as she relived the memories of her childhood.

After a bit the device agent Ross had tucked back in a pocket made a noise and he pulled it out, putting it to his ear like a phone. He then begins talking, "yes. Yes I'm positive. We have a few other things we would like to ask her but yes. You can come meet us and take her once we are finished."

Allison looks it him, knowing he had been speaking of her.

Agent Ross puts the device away and looks back at the woman, "that was just a friend. We want to do a few tests and figure out how you got here but as soon as we are done you'll be able to go and stay with them."

Allison finds this odd but agrees to follow through with his plan. What else would she do? She barely knew where she was and would hardly be able to run off if she tried too. It would be easiest to just let them run their tests and go with whoever they were going to send her with. If she needed to get away she could wait and figure things out first.

They soon arrive to a nice government building and go inside. They seem to trust Allison as there isn't any guards immediately around them, though there are guards scattered throughout the building, in their presumably normal places. She follows agent Ross through the halls and around different corners until they finally come to stop in a room which appeared to be a lab.

There were a few other people around and Allison simply clutched her notebook as they took some blood from her and did a few other tests. They performed a full physical on her, both eye and hearing tests and a few other things to determine the state of her health.

Allison was surprised that by the end of all of this she was hardly tired. Sure she was almost always on her feet, running about to take care of her job at the diner, but that wasn't the same as the many stretches they had her do. In fact despite having spent a week in the hospital lying about and doing nothing she probably felt the best she had in years. Though it could be the fact she hadn't gotten enough sleep in years and now she was finally fully rested even if she was in the year 2015.

When they are fully finished agent Ross and the few doctors request her to stay in the room and they will send in someone to meet her in a moment who would be taking her to where she would be staying. She sits quietly, running a hand over the pages of her notebook, looking through her most recent notes. Allison's mind was already working towards figuring out how this had happened, how she had ended up in 2015.

It's as she is sitting quietly that she hears the door open and someone step inside. She looks up to see a broad shouldered man with blond hair and blue eyes entering the room.

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litwitlady · 4 years

Text

whoever is filthy, let him be filthy still (4/6)

Read on AO3. - A chapter ahead over there.

Warnings: mentions of murder and childhood abuse

iv. Max

‘And Max. He’s your brother? You were found together?’

Michael nods but frowns. ‘We’re brothers in theory, I guess.’

‘In theory? Explain that.’ Dr. Sampson hands him a cup of coffee and settles back into her seat.

He shrugs. ‘He and Isobel were adopted together. I got thrown into the system. Once I returned to Roswell, we struggled - I struggled.’ He clears his throat and takes a sip of the coffee. ‘He can be a condescending dick. And as de facto leader, he pisses me off - a lot.’

‘Have you ever been close?’ Dr. Sampson has a voice that lures things from you - ugly truths that you never made a conscious decision to admit. To yourself or anyone else. Michael decides it’s her superpower.

‘Once. Back in high school. Before all the lies.’

She smiles warmly, trying to soothe the answers loose. ‘I know you two aren’t blood related, Michael. And that your relationship is often strained. But do you still think of him as your brother?’

‘Only sometimes.’

***

Michael doesn’t immediately go to Max. He drags his feet for a couple of weeks and is happy to continue doing so, but Isobel has other ideas. She begins orchestrating reasons for family meetings - their doppelganger problem, Liz and Max’s emotional crisis, her desire to cook some new recipe.

None of her plans work. Michael too stubborn and Max too oblivious. It’s not until Max unexpectedly climbs down into Michael’s bunker that avoidance is no longer possible. And he comes at the worst moment. Michael is already fuming - his newest calculations providing nothing but bad news. No matter how many simulations he runs. It’s frustrating, but not nearly as frustrating as when he’d run into Alex and Forrest that morning. At the Crashdown having breakfast, hands touching across the table. This time they had noticed him and he honestly wishes they hadn't.

‘Not in the mood, Maxwell.’ He doesn’t bother looking up from his worktable.

Max ignores him and slides a stool over, sitting far enough away that Michael can’t reach him. Already playing defense to Michael’s anger. ‘You’re never going to be in the mood for this, so sit down and listen.’

Michael laughs, bitter and sarcastic. ‘Fuck you, Max.’

‘I don’t want to be the leader of this anymore.’ He motions vaguely around the bunker.

That certainly grabs Michael’s attention. ‘Come to handover your letter of resignation?’ He sits down on his own stool and smirks at Max. ‘Because I accept. Long live Queen Isobel.’

‘Not Isobel, Michael. You.’ He’s looking at Michael through those big, brown puppy dog eyes - full of sincerity. Not a single hint of humor anywhere on his face.

Michael laughs anyway. ‘I don’t have time for this, Max. Go brood somewhere else.’

Max stays quiet but he doesn’t move. He watches Michael work for a long time. It frustrates Michael because it’s always been one of his favorite strategies. Wait him out until he crumbles - which Michael always does because Max can be a patient motherfucker once he digs his heels in and decides to be an asshole.

The air around them thickens and when Max clears his throat, Michael comes the tiniest bit unhinged.

‘Alright, fuck! Say what you came to say. I’ll listen.’ He only half means it, but Max seems satisfied enough.

‘Sheriff Valenti confessed something to me a few months back. Something I’ve kept from you and Isobel.’ He stares down at his hands and grimaces. ‘I didn’t know how to tell you or what any of it meant or even who I was anymore. And that was wrong. I’ve been wrong about a lot of things, Michael. Especially with you.’

Michael rolls his eyes at Max’s melodramatics. ‘Spare me the contrition, Max. Just spit it out already. I have work to do.’

‘It wasn’t you in the group home who was drawing all over the walls. It was me.’ Their eyes meet over the table and a heated silence falls around them. Michael blinks slowly, not comprehending what he’s just heard. ‘I was the deranged, damaged kid. And I think I’ve known that all along.’ He shakes his head and breaks eye contact, staring back down at his hands.

More silence. Several moments stretching long between them. Finally, Max sighs. ‘Say something.’ Emotion straining his voice. Eyes welling with tears.

Michael continues to glare at Max. Not believing he has the audacity to cry. He tries to stand but it’s like he’s glued in place. And instead of his normal white hot rage, a calm coolness washes over him. Pooling in the bottom of his belly. Michael knows that feeling is hate. Pure, icy hatred. He’s not unfamiliar with the feeling - Jesse Manes, Kyle Valenti, Flint Manes, Noah Bracken. Sometimes the list seems endless.

‘Explain it better, Max. Make it make sense.’ Every word pushed through teeth clenched so tight he’s worried they’ll break.

The tension surges between them, the temperature palpably rising in the windowless bunker. Michael’s not sure he’ll hear anything Max says - not with the ferocious pounding in his head. Blood pumping through his veins like icy sludge.

‘All my nightmares as a kid - the times Isobel literally had to mind-walk me so I’d calm down. My obsession with the symbol - the way I’d doodle it over and over again in every notebook I ever owned. And then the tattoo.’ His voice cracks, high-pitched and frantic. ‘Now, with all that devil talk? Michael, I couldn’t have survived what you survived. I’d have killed more than some random pervert in the desert.’

Michael stalks towards him, fists raised. ‘Is that supposed to make me feel better? I was kicked around - slapped, beaten, burned. And that’s all supposed to be okay because you were safe? From yourself?’ A strangled noise rises from Michael’s throat. ‘I was never loved, Max. Not ever. Not once. All so you could be protected and loved, held tight by the perfect fucking family?’

He takes several steps forward, fisting the collar of Max’s jacket. The urge to wrap his hands around his brother’s throat throbbing in his fingers.

Max grips Michael’s wrists softly. ‘And yet, you are the most loving of the three of us. Of anyone I’ve ever met. And no that’s not fair, but it’s the goddamn truth.’ He pounds his fist on the table and Michael flinches, dropping his hands away and stepping back. Watching as Max’s tears finally crawl down his cheeks. ‘You’ve always had the most control - ever since we were kids.’ He throws his hands up in submission. ‘You’re not the murderer, Michael. I am. It always had to be this way.’

A manic sort of laughter overwhelms Michael. He can barely believe what he’s just heard. And by someone meant to love him. He turns his back to Max and moves as far away as he can. The rage inside him festering into something almost sentient. He closes his eyes and counts backwards from twenty - inhaling and exhaling around every number. Like Dr. Sampson had suggested whenever his anger tries to get the best of him.

Michael can choose to take back control. To let it all go. Even if the other person doesn’t deserve such kindness.

And it works, mostly. Some of his tension drains away and the weight on his chest subsides enough for him to breathe again. He’s still angry - still furious. But it’s a low, simmering heat now - not the numbing white hatred that had consumed him earlier. His head is spinning with this sudden rewrite of his life and there’s only one person he wants to talk to right now. And that person is certainly not Max Evans.

Michael slowly turns around and shakes his head at Max. ‘I need time. Maybe a lot of time.’ He needs Alex. ‘I miss my brother. I’ve missed my brother for a long time now. But the truth is, Max? I don’t recognize you anymore.’

Max nods. ‘I get that. And for whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry.’ He starts to walk away but stops with one foot on the ladder. ‘I won’t tell Isobel yet. To keep her out of your hair for a while. However long it takes for you to process all this.’

‘I’ll tell her when I’m ready, Max. You don’t have to keep making all the decisions and putting in all the work. We can’t be a family until we’re all on equal footing.’ He moves towards Max. Not necessarily because he wants to - because he doesn’t. Not right now, anyway. But he knows that some future version of himself will want this. That Max needs this and Isobel. Maybe even Liz. So, he wraps his arms around Max, quick and tight. One sharp clap on the back. ‘Maybe take a trip to California.’ He pulls back. ‘I hear it’s nice this time of year.’

Michael returns to his calculations and Max leaves, already planning the best route to California in his head.

#whoever is filthy let him be filthy still

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robinskey · 5 years

Text

Miracle (Billy Hargrove x Reader)

A/N: This idea randomly came to me, and I spent most of my day working on it. I don’t write for Billy much, but I 100% feel his character deserved better, so...here’s my attempt at rewriting the canon.

Warnings: Season 3 spoilers, mention of blood, a bit of angst and swearing

Billy should have died last night.

As you sit in the little folding chair next to his hospital bed, you can’t stop that thought from crossing your mind. By all means, Billy Hargrove should not have survived the injuries he sustained from the Mind Flayer. You’d watched as the monster’s tentacles had punctured holes through Billy’s abdomen, like a pencil stabbed through a piece of notebook paper. By the time you and Max had gotten to him, the bleeding wounds had stained his once-white tank top bright crimson.

You’d uttered a string of expletives before screaming at someone to call an ambulance. You tried tying your jacket around his midsection, unsuccessfully attempting to stop the bleeding. Like most high school students, you didn’t know much about first aid. The only thing you knew was that you would not let this boy bleed out in your arms.

Across from you, Max gazed at her stepbrother will tear-filled eyes. He stared back.

“I’m sorry, Max. I wish-I wish I could have been a better brother,” he said, his voice soft and strained, barely audible over the police sirens blaring outside the mall. Billy’s arm hung limp at his side, and Max placed her small, freckled hand over his. Then, he turned to you. “Thank you-for everything.”

“Don’t talk like you’re dying, Billy, because you’re not,” you’d said through clenched teeth. “Hold on. Help will be here soon.” You tugged at the sleeves of your jacket with shaking fingers, tightening its hold on Billy’s stomach.

“Y/N,” he said with as much force as he could muster.

It came out as a grunt, but it was enough to draw your attention. He watched you with unblinking baby blues-the same color as the ocean that he loved so dearly-the one you knew he wanted to see again. The one he would see again.

“Let me go.”

Your voice was hoarse, strained by the tears you were trying to repress. “You know I can’t do that.”

And you didn’t. You kept pressure on Billy’s wounds until the EMTs arrived, and you held his hand until they loaded him onto the ambulance.

“He’s going to live, right?” you frantically asked one man in scrubs.

The man hesitated before answering, “I can’t tell you that, miss. It’s a miracle he’s survived this long.”

A miracle.

Those words echoed in your mind as you jumped into your station wagon, stomped on the gas, and chased the ambulance all the way to the hospital. They permeated your thoughts as you paced the waiting room, uttering words of encouragement to Max and small prayers to the universe, to God-whoever would listen. (You’d never been a particularly religious person, but you figured Billy could use whatever help he could possibly get.)

A kind nurse asked if there was anyone she could contact for you. Surprisingly, despite how recently the family had moved to Hawkins, she managed to find “Hargrove” in the phonebook. She handed the phone to you, and you dialed the number. It rang several times before a husky voice answered.

“Whatever you’re selling, we don’t want any,” the man on the other end of the line slurred. Then, he slammed the phone down on the receiver.

After several excruciating hours of surgery, a doctor emerged from behind a set of metal double doors. She wore a white lab coat and an unreadable expression. Her eyes scanned over the paper on her clipboard.

“William Hargrove?”

You stood still for the first time in hours. Max, who had slumped over in the armchair, perked up. You wanted to make your way over to her, take her hand in yours-but you couldn’t move. Your feet felt like they’d been covered in cement.

“Is he...” You couldn’t bring yourself to verbalize the awful thought.

“In recovery,” the doctor said. “The surgery went well. We managed to close his wounds relatively quickly, but he’d already lost a lot of blood, so we had to do a transfusion. You’ll be able to visit him in a few minutes.”

A melting pot of emotions bubbled to the surface, all fighting for control of your mind. You couldn’t think, let alone speak. Fortunately, Max managed to choke out a sentence:

“Billy’s going to be okay?”

A soft smile tugged at the woman’s bare lips as she offered a small nod.

“He’ll need to stay here for a few days, just so we can monitor his vitals and make sure none of the wounds reopen,” she said, eyes returning to scan the information on her clipboard. “Mr. Hargrove got really lucky, though. Despite how many punctures his attacker dealt, they managed to miss every one of his vital organs.”

She paused then to glance up at you.

“It’s truly a miracle,” she said before ducking back into the surgery room.

***

Less than fifteen minutes later, the doctor had returned. She brought you and Max to a tiny hospital room that stunk of bleach. A cot sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by a bunch of beeping machines. The doctor fiddled with the settings on one of them as you approached the bed.

A blonde-haired boy laid under a white sheet. His infamous jean jacket was nowhere to be seen; instead, a light blue hospital gown covered his broad chest. Under the thin material, you could make out the lines of thick bandages that wrapped around his abdomen.

Billy’s eyelids were closed, but his lips were just barely parted. With every rise and fall of his chest, a small puff of air escaped his mouth. You never thought you could be so happy to see someone breathing.

“It may take a while for the sedatives to get out of his system, so he probably won’t wake up for a while,” she had said. “Make yourselves comfortable, girls. Let me know if you need anything.”

The doctor walked into the hall, leaving you alone with an unconscious Billy Hargrove and his exhausted stepsister. The two of you collapsed onto the tattered loveseat next to the bed. You wrapped your arm tightly around Max’s dainty shoulders, and she leaned into you, falling asleep almost instantaneously.

You, of course, didn’t dare to close your eyes. Sure, the doctor claimed the sedatives would last a long time, but you knew Billy. You knew how he could down an entire bottle of vodka before he even got tipsy, how his body could overcome a hangover in a matter of hours. You were sure the anesthetics would be out of his system in no time, and you wanted to be there for him when he awoke.

Thus, you slept even less than the doctors that night. You watched as the nurses came in to check Billy’s heart rate and change his IV bag. Still, you stayed. Max’s mother eventually came to retrieve her from the hospital, but Billy’s father never showed. Still, you stayed.

Behind the curtains, the sky lightened as the sun rose above the horizon. A beam of light shone on Billy’s face, illuminating the black and blue bruises all over it. His thick, dark eyelashes fluttered ever so slightly; the rosy flush had returned to his cheeks. Despite the scratches and bruises, Billy looked more at peace than you had ever seen him, and the words you’d forgotten emerged among your thoughts once more:

A miracle.

You suddenly remembered the mumbled prayers you’d sent to the heavens last night. And, after the events of last night, the idea of a supernatural force looking over you no longer seemed unimaginable. You’d asked, and you’d received-and you were thankful. So, unsure of what else to do, you closed your eyes, folded your hands, and leaned your forehead against the edge of Billy’s mattress. You didn’t know what to say-or even who you were saying it to. You just knew you needed to express your gratitude for your miracle.

Besides, it was really nice to rest your heavy eyelids, even if it was just for a moment...

***

When Billy finally came to, he was in a compact room with white walls. Immediately, he recognized it as a hospital room-as an accident-prone kid with an affinity for daring activities, he had spent a lot of his childhood receiving medical care. He only had to wonder what had brought him here for a second before the events of the previous night flooded his memories.

The last distinct thing he could remember was her face hovering over his. To be more specific, it was the deep frown that creased her beautiful features. Then, there was a slamming of a door, and everything had gone black. Billy attempted to sit up, only to wince in pain as he pulled on the stitches in his side. He opted to remain laying down as he surveyed his surroundings.

Natural light filtered through one of the windows, offering a welcome alternative to the florescent lighting of the hospital. Billy squinted in the bright luminescence. He cupped one hand, raised it to his forehead, and used it as a visor. That’s when he noticed that he wasn’t alone.

There was a folding chair next to his bed. You half-sat in it, your body leaning over the mattress. Your arms were crossed on the bed, and you rested your head on top of them. As the light glistened on your h/c hair, Billy could have sworn a halo appeared.

Billy didn’t want to wake you, but he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and gingerly brushing your hair out of your face. He silently cursed himself as your eyes fluttered open.

“Hey,” you murmured sleepily.

“Hey,” Billy echoed, his voice slightly strained from lack of use.

“I’m sorry. I was trying to stay awake until you were...but I laid my head down, and I guess-I guess I must have just fallen asleep? I’m really sorry,” you stammered, propping yourself up and rubbing at your eyes with a balled fist.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, kid. I’m pretty sure you saved my ass last night, so I think you’ve earned a nap.”

You smiled, and for the first time in a long time, a little bit of warmth flooded into that icy heart of his. He loved to see you happy. When the two of you first met, for half a second, he’d fantasized about becoming the reason you were happy. He wanted to ask you out the day he bumped into you in the halls of Hawkins High, but he couldn’t. You were too sweet, too innocent-too good for him. He could never make you happy.

“How are you feeling?”

It took a moment for Billy to register that you were talking to him.

“I’m...okay. A little sore, but, I mean, that’s probably to be expected, when you get impaled multiple times by a huge flesh-eating monster.”

You chuckled this time, and he savored the twinkling sound. The two of you hadn’t talked in a really long time. Though he’d never admit it, he had desperately missed your voice. But every time he’d considered calling you up, he remembered that there was a reason he avoided you.

“I’m really glad to hear that,” you said. “You took so long in surgery. I was worried that you wouldn’t make it...that I hadn’t done enough to save your life.”

An emotion all-too-familiar for Billy flickered over your features. His father had looked at him with that same expression too many times to count. After he failed to protect his mother, even his reflection was forever tainted with it. The feeling was a killer of men, a breaker of hearts: shame.

If anything, the only thing you had to be ashamed of was the fact that you’d prevented Billy from being put out of his misery.

“Why did you want to help me? I’ve always been a douche to you,” Billy said. It was true, he thought. He had always treated you terribly; yet, you had never shown him anything but kindness.

“Not always. You’ve always tried to be a douche to me,” you said, leaning towards him, “but there’s good in you still, Billy Hargrove. I’ve glimpsed it before, and I saw it last night, in all of its glory, when you sacrificed yourself for your sister and her friends.”

By the time you’d finished speaking, your face was mere inches from Billy’s. He inhaled the sweet scent of your perfume. It was almost as intoxicating as the mere proximity of you.

He shook his head slightly, trying to clear his mind. This couldn’t happen. You were the softest, sweetest person he’d ever met; he saw so much of his mother in you.

And there was far too much of his father in him.

“I’m a bad person, Y/N. Even if there’s good in me...there’s not enough. Not enough for you. You’re an angel, and I’m-“

“A miracle. Your life is a miracle, Billy,” you whispered. One of your hands reached up to cup Billy’s cheek. “And I’m tired of you trying to shut me out of it.”

Even if he had been able to move, Billy wouldn’t have stopped you from pressing your lips to his. They were smooth and tasted of cherry lip balm, and when you pulled away, his mouth tingled. It felt like a butterfly had just landed on his skin for a split second, then fluttered away. He’d never had such a gentle kiss.

“You really are an angel,” Billy muttered, ocean eyes fixed on you.

“I’m not an angel,” you said, running your fingers through Billy’s golden curls, “but I’ll gladly be yours.”

562 notes · View notes

warmau · 5 years

Text

{Special} College!AU Hyunjin

*this post was commissioned | master list here | commission info here

major: history / concentration in east asia

minor: archaeology

sports: tried out for baseball, but gave it up to do a study abroad in japan

clubs: sometimes he gets dragged into dance club by woojin and bang chan, won’t tell anyone but has a membership to the seoul museum of history and goes on tours by himself often

hyunjin is everyone’s favorite person. there isn’t any other way to put it.

he has a magical, calming charm that finds is way even into the coldest of hearts

professors who are known to be harshly critical just can’t seem to find anything cruel to say even if he does make a mistake

because like,,,,,,,,,,have you seen him?

he puts absolutely no effort into looking good - it just comes naturally

and like ,,,, things as mundane as putting on glasses or a face mask just seem to somehow up his charm?

like he came into the library to meet up with felix and changbin once

wearing his usual jeans, t-shirt, but with a pair of glasses his mom had just sent as a present

and changbin (over dramatically) went

“woah. +100 heart attack hyunjin!”

and hyunjin was like huh?? and changbin pretended to be shot through the heart as felix rolled his eyes and said

“changbin has a thing for glasses”

hyunjin without missing a beat: yeets the glasses all the way across the room

has been propositioned by fashion students for photoshoots multiple times - and by fine arts students a dozen more

he doesn’t get it

like he’ll look at his face in the mirror and call out to his roommate, seungmin, and be like

“i just look normal?”

seungmin flipping through his magazine, “if normal was what you looked like - this world be populated by demigods hyunjin.”

you can always catch him eating before class

like he’ll snack on anything - especially early in the morning

seungmin wakes up and hyunjin is already sitting on his bed surrounded by wrappers, recopying notes from yesterday and seungmin is like where did you get those

“the store”

“it’s 6:30 am”

“7-11 works 24 hours”

hyunjin walking into the store, piling his hands up with snacks, dumping them on the counter and then looking at the cashier

who is just awestruck because ,,,,,,,,,,, i- is he an idol??!??!!?!?

chose to study history because he likes traveling and study abroads always excite him

the only hiccup is that he isn’t great at languages so he sometimes resorts to just the ‘smile and nod’

and really like ,,,,,, it works for him ,,,,,,, that face ,,,,,,,, he could probably get away with murder at this point

when he was in japan he brought back gifts for everyone ,,,,,,,, but it was just the same shiba inu plushie

and he was like puppy ^___^ and bang chan was like it’s cute! and changbin was like i thought i was someone special to you bro,,,,,but i just get what everyone else gets huh,,,,,,

(not true - jeongin, a high school senior who sometimes hangout with the group got lots and lots of candy)

(hyunjin has a soft spot)

but yeah, he just enjoys being in new places and discovering new things and much to everyone’s surprise

he prefers being alone too, like he doesn’t think you have to go with someone else to have fun - you can make your own fun!

that is until he ends up lost in europe. again.

some people mistake his wanderlust for arrogance sometimes but they’re just idiots

because hyunjin is the sweetest - even if he’s in another country for school and seungmin calls with a problem or jeongin needs help with his homework

hyunjin doesn’t care, he’ll drop that money on a vpn, and always be there for his friends

took up archaeology as a minor after he did a workshop at the museum and found out it was really fun

jeongin: so do you like dig for dinosaur bones???

hyunjin: that’s more on the paleontology side-

jeongin, ignoring him: do you think id be a trex? i feel like id be a pterodactyl

hyunjin: ..........................

hyunjin: you’re too cute to be a dinosaur, seungmin on the other hand-

seungmin appearing out of nowhere: what did you say

but yeah he’s a sweetheart when it comes down to it, even though he can look a little intimidating

simply because his face. is. like. that.

you don’t go to the same university as hyunjin, actually you don’t even really know who he is

until you start tutoring an energetic high school senior named jeongin for his upcoming college entrance exam

“i can’t even say that”

jeongin mutters, huffing as you give him a small shake of your head

“it’s cavalieri. cavalieri’s principal - you learn it before you start calculus-”

“will you be angry if i tell you i can’t remember what i learned last week?”

you don’t want to sigh outloud - mostly because you don’t want to upset jeongin - so you hold it together as best you can

“that’s ok, ill explain it again?”

he cheers, and you secretly hope some of that happiness can be poured into studying

just because jeongin is sweet and you do want him to pass his exams, but also because this is the third time this week you’ve tried getting him to understand this

as you start from the beginning of the problem, you hear footsteps padding up behind you

you scoot your chair, assuming someones just trying to get past you in the library

but the noise stops and suddenly a pair of hands wraps themselves around jeongin’s shoulder

“ah!” he exclaims, turning his head and scrunching up his nose, “hyunjin!”

you look up and see an older boy, his hair covered in a black baseball cap and round glasses threatening to slip off his nose

“so you weren’t lying, you are being a good boy and studying?”

jeongin puffs his cheeks out

“when have i ever lied?”

“um,,,,”

you don’t mean to cut in - but you and jeongin only have half an hour left before you have to finish his tutoring

the sound grabs the mystery boys attention as he gives jeongin’s hair a ruffle

his eyes meet yours and instead of the usual audible gasp or blush that he’s accustomed to seeing on everyones face

you just stare

“so-sorry, did i interrupt?”

you’re far too worried about jeongin’s inability to do math then to notice just how strikingly handsome this guy is

jeongin shoos him off and you don’t pay much attention as you turn back to the textbook

“ok, so - if two regions of a plane are-”

jeongin listens, trying hard to keep up with you

the boy from before doesn’t leave the library, he just hangs back and waits around till he sees you waving and jeongin bounding over to him with his bag over his shoulder

“are you buying me snacks?!?”

he sings and hyunjin gives him half a grin

“sure. by the way - whats your tutors name?”

you see jeongin three times a week to study - each time you sort of have to backtrack through what he can can’t remember

but he’s adorable and always brimming with energy so it isn’t all that bad

the only thing that changes is that someone starts picking him up from the library everyday

“that’s hyunjin, he goes to the university i want to get into!”

jeongin explains, eyes sparkling a little

you nod, “what’s he majoring in?”

“history! so ,,,,,, i can’t really ask him for help with math ,,,,,,,”

you let out a knowing sound and lug the textbook out of your bag

jeongin groans, like he always does upon seeing it, but gets his notebook out and ready

this time - as the hour draws to a finish, hyunjin slips into the seat across from you and jeongin

just as jeongin finishes a problem and you scan over his solution, lip between your teeth in concentration.

“did i get it right?!”

he jumps a little in his seat

“they just looked at the paper jeongin.”

hyunjin chimes in and you give a little shake of your head

“it was a good start, but see here - the formula is wrong.”

you lean in closer to jeongin and show him where the mistake is

“ahhh it’s so hard!”

he grips the sides of his head and takes the paper from you as he tries to solve it again

as jeongin works, you catch hyunjin looking at you from the side

not to be rude - you strike up a bit of a conversation

“jeongin told me you major in history, what’s your concentration?”

he seems flustered, suddenly drumming his fingers against the table

“i mostly focus on ancient asia,,,and i like archaeology,,,,”

“oh! ive never meet someone in archaeology!”

you turn your body and hyunjin feels warm with all your attention on him so suddenly

“have you done any excavations?”

“i did,,,last time when i was in japan-”

somehow you and hyunjin get a little lost in the moment

you’re immersed in his stories from studying abroad and hyunjin doesn’t really know it yet

but he’s immersed in the way you look, cutely tucking your hands under your chin as you ask him questions about this country and that trip

jeongin finishes the problem, but ends up waiting until one of you finally realizes it

“so,,,are you guys done flirting?”

both you and hyunjin jump a bit in your seats at the confident words of the younger boy

he passes you the paper and you busy yourself with checking his answers as hyunjin secretly makes a face at jeongin

and jeongin grins back -

“you got it right! next time, we’ll try something a little harder!”

you praise and jeongin nearly face plants himself into the library table

“you’re telling me there’s something harder than that?!?!”

the three of you walk out of the library together, you wave them both off as you head in the direction of your campus

and jeongin notices how hyunjin watches you for a little too long

he pokes his hyung in the side and asks, “was i right? you were totally flirting with them back there?~”

you don’t want to admit it at first, but slowly you start to look forward to seeing hyunjin pick jeongin up from tutoring

you tell yourself it’s because he’s interesting - he’s been to so many places and his major is so different from yours!!!

it has nothing to do with the fact that after finally looking at him for more than a mere second

you come to the realization that he’s,,,,,,,,,by far the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen

either way - your main focus is always jeongin

because the test is approaching and he’s been doing better, but math always has its way of creeping up and destroying you

so you constantly try to make sure he’s grasping everything

hyunjin gets into the habit of showing up earlier too

like he’ll just hang around in the history section or something, stealing peeks at you and jeongin from over his book

and when it’s time to finish - he’ll come over and jeongin will be momentarily distracted by whatever food hyunjin has in his backpack

and you and him will talk a little

one afternoon, you get to the library and start setting up for the tutoring session

it’s exceptionally hot - and the A.C. is near dead in the library - so you put all your hair up and unbutton your shirt just a bit

you fan yourself with a folder and wait around for jeongin

but after twenty minutes,,,,,,,you realize he isn’t showing up

you check your phone - there aren’t any texts from him about canceling or being late

usually he always tells you beforehand, and you’ve been tutoring this kid for over a month now - you know he wouldn’t just ditch

you frown, suddenly filled with worry about what could have happened to him when your phone vibrates in your hand

its an unknown number - so you’re cautious as you pick up

“hello?”

“ah - hey, it’s hyunjin. sorry to call you out of the blue, but jeongin just told me he’s not back from a school trip and that he tried to text you but it won’t go through?”

you feel relief wash over you, happy to know nothing bad has happened

“ok, i was waiting for him and getting worried-”

“really?!? ill scold him when he gets back, you shouldn’t be suffering in the heat just because he doesn’t know how to get signal on a mountain.”

you laugh and hear the librarian shush you from somewhere

“hey, since you have this hour free - do you want to do something?”

for a second you think you’ve misheard his request

“is the library free?”

you repeat

hyunjin gives an embarrassed chuckle on the other end of the line

“no, no - are you free? right now? im like outside the library anyway and ,,,,,,,,, since it’s hot,,,,,,,,,,,, you know,,,,,,,,some bingsu or,,,,,,something,,,,,,”

his voice trails off a bit and if you could see him - you’d know the tips of his ears were flaring red

you don’t really know what to say - and you don’t remember what you say either

you just know that ten minutes later you’re sitting across from hyunjin at a cafe with a gigantic mound of shaved mango flavored ice cream

(and the jealous glare of a couple of other students too)

“is jeongin on his graduation trip?”

“something like that, he was trying to facetime me but ,,,,, he’s short so it didn’t work out”

you giggle into your palm and hyunjin can’t help but feel a little proud at how he’s the one to make you laugh

he adores jeongin to bits - but right now, your attention is all his

“ive never really traveled, my schools trip was just to another town”

you dip your spoon into the quickly melting ice and hyunjin can’t believe something so small

and so normal

makes his heart twist a little

“have you ever been out of the country?”

“maybe twice?”

he leans forward, “where would you want to go?”

you think about it, holding the spoon up against your lips

hyunjin blinks a little because he doesn’t want to focus on the slope of your neck or the buttons undone on your shirt, really he just doesn’t understand what’s going on

he knew he thought you were cute - and sure he’d been flirting a little like jeongin had accused

but this was different

now you two were alone and there was more time to look at you - to listen to you

hyunjin swallows a little of the lump formed in his throat just in time for you you to answer him with a grin

“i would want to go to hawaii.”

this is the moment where he should say something cool, something his friend chan would say like

‘oh, ill take you there!’ ‘let’s go together then!’

but all he manages to stutter out is

“th-there are lots of ruins there, excavating would be fun!”

hyunjin expects you’ll laugh at him for being such a dork, but you don’t - you just agree right away

“i bet all history majors want to visit the volcanoes there!”

oh shit - i think i like them just a little more after that!

hyunjin digs into the bingsu in order to avoid the big smile about to slap onto his face

you guys talk more, losing track of time until your phone blows up with notifications from your nighttime study group

you thank hyunjin and offer to pay him back - but he refuses

instead he walks with you all the way to your campus and as you say your goodbyes outside of your majors building

you hear a couple people whisper

“who is that guy?”

you join your group and hyunjin nearly skips back to the dorms

seungmin looks at him funny when he does a spin as he comes through the dorm and lands face first on his bed

“did you win the lottery hyunjin?”

“something like that.”

the next time you show up to the library, hyunjin is already there

he’s pinching jeongin’s ear and when you get close you hear him scolding

“you need to apologize, they waited almost half an hour for you!”

“but i called you to tell them i couldn’t make it - plus why are you angry!! you got a date out of it!”

you freeze and hyunjin looks up, turning shy as jeongin pulls himself free

“i-it wasn’t a d-date -”

hyunjin starts, buffering and unsure of where to look

you or jeongin

but the younger boy rolls his eyes

“yeah it wasn’t, you took them out for bingsu! hyunjin buy them dinner next time - right?”

jeongin looks at you, clear eyed and waiting

it feels like the library is even more stuffier than usual as you blink

“i - um-”

“if you want,,,,i can,,,,take you to dinner,,,,sometime,,,,,”

hyunjin can’t believe what he’s saying - but he means it and he hopes more than anything you’ll say yes

so he doesnt look like a fool but also because jeongin is right, bingsu in a cafe is a friend thing. dinner is ..........

you hesitate, you like hyunjin, he’s undeniably handsome and your conversations are always so fun

but you look at jeongin who just motions a nod with his head

“o-ok,,,”

you finally agree and jeongin claps his hands together so loud you all get shushed again

“but for now, let’s do some math!”

you save face as quickly as possible, setting your books down as jeongin opens up his notebook

and hyunjin feels so happy, he nearly goes into a daze before jeongin is like hyung get out of that chair i need to be next to them to do my work

you end up going to dinner a week later with hyunjin, nothing fancy - you two are college students afterall - but it’s much more intimate and ,,, close than sitting in a crowded cafe

hyunjin looks close to perfect in black jeans and a navy button up

usually he’s always in sweats and a baseball cap

but today all he has on are his glasses, with his hair neatly done up

(courtesy of seungmin who was not about to let hyunjin leave the house for a DATE with unbrushed hair)

it feels all a little mature, until hyunjin flips his phone to show you the group chat he’s in

and felix has sent the same message thirty times over: don’t eat their leftovers hyunjin - i know you’ll be tempted to

you laugh a little, bringing your hand up to your lips and hyunjin feels comfortable

because you aren’t expecting him to be some perfectly stoic guy just because of his face

you’re actually enjoying the fact that he (and his closest friends) are all silly

hyunjin shrugs off his jacket as he walks you back to your dorm

he wants to offer it to you - but he suddenly feels like it’ll be awkward just to put it around your shoulder

so he fumbles a little and he looks like a lost puppy until finally you ask if you can borrow it

and with a red blush he mumbles yes

once you get to the dorms, you turn to tell hyunjin you’ve had a fun night and he enthusiastically replies that he has too

and the moment comes

the moment where hyunjin is sure he’s supposed to kiss you

but even for someone so handsome and popular, this is new and he doesn’t want to ruin it

you feel your own palms get a little sweaty and you think maybe just a hug will be a good idea for tonight

when you hear hyunjin’s phone go off again

“what are they saying in the group chat now?”

you giggle and he reads it with a small sound of surprise

“well,,,,,they’re,,,,,,,,,,um,,,,”

he turns the screen and you read the messages

‘you big, perfect-faced loser - you better kiss them or ELSE!’

you don’t know if you should get all shy or bust out into chuckles because the id of the person sending that message

is non other than jeongin

you look up and hyunjin kind of shrugs - so you decide

might as well do it, so the others don’t call him a perfect faced loser anymore

as you lean up and brush your lips against his

if hyunjin skipped home the first time you guys went out together ,,,, he nearly flutters in on cloud nine this time

seungmin patting his shoulder like

“proud of you bro”

dating hyunjin while still tutoring jeongin for the exam is a mix of both laughter and a slight bit of teasing

jeongin keeps trying to tell you about all the corny things hyunjin wants to do to you

just to get out of finishing a math problem

and you keep telling him you won’t fall for it ,,,,, but it is cute that hyunjin spent almost an hour trying to pick out a teddy bear to gift you

hyunjin still comes around to pick jeongin up from tutoring

but it’s always like,,,he comes in and gives your hand a little squeeze and mumbles that he’ll kiss you later on when they’re out of the library

and jeongin is like hello aren’t we still talking about functions?

and you’re like yes we are - but also hyunjin you’re cute let’s go steal a little kiss in the non-fiction area

you ask one day what it is he and jeongin do when they go off together after tutoring

“we’ll play baseball or something in the park, but these days jeongin just wants me to splurge my money on him.”

jeongin crossing his arms: that’s not true, id never use you for money

hyunjin: oh yeah, how much have i spent on snacks in the past month alone - for you?

jeongin: idk like five dollars

hyunjin: multiply that by ten

you: ok ok how about this, how about we just all pitch in together for ice cream or something

jeongin: as the baby of the group, i should get it for free

you and hyunjin (absolutely whipped for cute jeongin): d-deal

hyunjin isn’t a pda person and he’s actually pretty shy about affection in general

just because he doesn’t want to admit that he’s new to it

but you’re one hundred percent ok with it because the moment where he does grab your hand while no one is looking

or where you can catch him debating leaning in to kiss your forehead or not

are the cutest,,,,,,,

you visit his dorm one day because he wants to pick something up before you guys go out on your picnic

and you meet seungmin who looks at you and then at hyunjin and he’s like

“hyunjin you’re pretty and all, but they’re even prettier”

hyunjin: w- are you flirting with my s/o for me?

seungmin whispering to you: he’s a newbie, please go easy on him

lots of active dates where you guys go to the park and hyunjin helps teach you how to do soccer tricks

or chasing after cute puppies in the shelter you two visit every now and then

sometimes he seems to have more energy than jeongin which is saying something

and if you get a little tired he’s like “if you want,,,,like if you’re comfortable,,,,with it,,,,i ,,, can piggyback,,,,you,,,,,,,,or something,,,,,,,,,,,,,for a little while,,,,,,,,,if you want”

you and hyunjin both wait outside of the testing center when the big day for jeongin’s exam comes up

you’re both super anxious and at one point hyunjin hides his head in your neck a little and you have to assure him it’s going to be fine

jeongin is going to pass and in the fall he’ll be a freshmen at hyunjin’s uni! you just know it!

hyunjin nods and tries to keep positive

and when jeongin comes out looking sulky, the two of you go 100% parent mode with worry

but then he just jumps up and is like

“i TOTALLY aced it! all that math - i got it!”

he throws his arms around you first, to which hyunjin grumbles a little

but you guys are so happy that you just go out for pizza, joined by the rest of the friend group later on

“so i want to talk to you about something super serious,,,”

hyunjin mumbles one day as you two are sitting on your bed

you feels your stomach turn at his sudden drop in tone

“is everything ok?”

“yeah, but,,,,,,,,i have to ask you to do something for me”

you suddenly are hyper aware of the way the door to your room is closed, how your roommate won’t be back till next week, and how hyunjin is wearing a loose fitting white shirt that could very easily be discarded if he chose to

“o-ok”

you feel his fingers lightly trace of yours and your heart feels like it’s gong to go crazy in your ears

when

“the guys want to invite you to our groupchat,,,,,,,,,are you ok with that kind of torture?”

half of you wants to flick his forehead, making the air so tense and getting you worked up

but the other half burst into laughter, falling back onto the bed

“you got so serious about that?!?!”

“w- it’s a serious matter! we don’t let just anyone in!”

he whines and falls back down beside you

he turns his head and watches your giggles simmer out

his hand suddenly finds its way to your waist and you turn on your side

“you can give me your answer ,,,,,,,, after we kiss a little?”

you look at his lips then back up into his pretty eyes

“sounds good”

you do join the group chat and the first thing chan asks is: you two left us on read for a while,,,,,,,,would you like to share with the group?

you: how do i leave a gc?

hyunjin: im leaving with them

chan: jeSUS i was just joking

hyunjin does another study abroad in the winter semester and you miss him a lot

but you also love the videos and pictures he sends you

one morning you find a package being lugged up to your dorm by the RA and you open it to find a big sweater inside

you stare at it before realizing it’s hyunjin’s!

you know he loves it and always wears it when he does dance club with some of his friends

there’s a note too that says:

‘i was too big to get in the box, so have this piece of me instead~ your only one hyunjin’

you smile to yourself, mumbling that he’s always so shy yet he goes around doing corny things like this

everyone and their mother demands to know who the hot guy from the other university is that you’re dating

and can you please drop his instagram or something

but when you do,,,,,,they’re upset to see that it’s full of travel logs and photos of you

hyunjin is that boyfriend

you were playing around, putting his baseball cap on and hyunjin thought you looked so damn cute he got up, turned the cap backwards on your head and swooped in to kiss you

before realizing what he’d done and going all blushy

you thought, just to add fuel to the embarrass-my-boyfriend fire, you went

“woah, hyunjin - that kiss was a homerun!”

hyunjin: oh my god you’re corny

even though you don’t tutor jeongin anymore, you and hyunjin just always find yourselves at the library

picking books out or just sitting beside each other in a comfortable silence

sometimes you’ll link your legs under the table and get scolded for it by a particularly prissy librarian

giggling about it later on

you’re sitting beside hyunjin, in your own little bubble when suddenly seungmin is like “hyunjin give me your glasses”

hyunjin, confused, hands them over and seungmin tosses them behind him

“hey-”

“your glasses are useless, the only thing you need to see anymore is them - right?”

you and hyunjin both blushing but let’s be real,,,,,,,,it’s the truth

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids au #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin au #sfw #skz imagines #skz au #skz scenarios #writing commissions #college!au #skz hyunjin

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girlwiththegreenhat · 4 years

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thoughts on ur favorite drink? ur favorite art program? thoughts on keeping a sketchbook? on any pets you have?

HELL yeah thanks for the ask i hope u like tangents on tangents and run on sentences because just like my blog description says, I Do Not Shut Up!

favorite type of drink: crystal pepsi

every fucking year i email the Bepsi company and ask when this god damn drink is coming back. last year? literally spent almost all of 2019 moving house, and i got no crystal pepsi anywhere in that time. now it’s 2020. there’s a plague. and the world is burning. and there’s still no fucking crystal pepsi. the moral of the story here is, as soon as pepsi brings back The Good Shit, everything can be nice again. i am .3 seconds away from breaking into pepsi HQ in the midst of this Rioting Chaos just to steal the Crystal Pepsi recipe from their fat stupid noses and start making it myself. I will market it as... Creestöl Bepsi.

oh wait im supposed to talk about the drink, right, shit’s good yo. you know how all clear sodas taste vaguely the same? they all taste like Clear Drink? this is like Clear Drink in it’s purest form. it is the Clearest Drink. with the most Clearest Drink taste. and thanks to it’s (formerly) limited annual runs at the end of summer it literally tastes like nostalgia. I have left the house like twice in the last three months but if they brought back crystal pepsi i would march out of my house like its on fire (wearing a mask of course) and buy every fucking bottle i could find, life savings be damned

so anyway yeah crystal pepsi’s good i guess

favorite art program: begrudgingly, photoshop

adobe may be a greedy bitch baby company who doesnt actually let you buy their software outright but damn,,, photoshop Nice,,, hehehehe,,, i can do so Much with it it’s such a multitool of a program,,, i just upgraded to the 2020 version in february and there’s SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO many more brushes than there were in the 2014 version, and most of them are actually really useful!! i’m living for this guy’s brushes, uh, kyle?? yeah, kyle t. webster. now THAT guy knows how to make some brushes. i’ve been using the same ones for like six years but he’s got this GORGEOUS lineart brush i’ve been using and dear god i love it too much to ever go back. I Will Never Go Back. AND I JUST FOUND OUT ABOUT LIKE, BLEND BRUSHES?? there are ones that perfectly emulate real pencils thanks to how photoshop handles brushes, it even wears out and widens with use (you can choose how fast...) and you can TILT your STYLUS to USE THE BROADER SIDE OF THE “LEAD”??? LIKE?? A REAL PENCIL???? still blows my mind,, photoshop’s brush engine is fucking amazing,,

Thoughts on keeping a sketchbook?

sketchbooks are great and i envy people who have those really nice, blank-page sketchbooks with the little rounded corners on each page? and they always fill them with studies and life drawings,,, its so Aesthetic,,,

meanwhile im adamant for some damn reason to do most of my drawings on lined paper still. not the serious ones, but if im doodling, or just doing a sketch i intend to finish in photoshop? composition notebook. i have Dozens of Actual sketchbooks, but those are so nice... i don’t want to fill them with stupid meme drawings and things i wont finish and things i draw Badly and things that i Will finish but not There. i’m glad im not going to college cuz i always hear “oh you have to submit your sketchbooks” im like haha What cuz my sketchbooks,,,, are probably some of the most unprofessional, badly organized, unfinished messes out there,,, like i do studies but it’s all on lined notebook paper and half-destroyed composition notebooks because at the end of 8th grade everyone was throwing out their unused or slightly used school supplies and there was a WHOLE RECYCLING BIN FULL OF COMPOSITION NOTEBOOKS?? MOST OF WHICH ONLY HAD THE FIRST LIKE 15 PAGES FILLED OUT IF THAT???? SO I JUST KINDA. RAIDED IT?? i havent bought lined paper in 8 years and all the school supplies i looted out of the garbage that day carried me all the way through high school. i bought maybe one notebook in highschool, that was it. i think i literally trash picked a lifetime of lined paper,,,

,,, anyway i have a Nice Sketchbook (no lined paper!) ive been toting around since sophomore year of high school. it’s still got printouts taped to it from supernatural and doctor who and black rock shooter. this was seven years ago, i still use it when i want to use Nice Paper, and only now am i approaching the last pages. i also have a separate sketchbook i decided to start using for concept art and sketches for my webcomic i will never actually start working on! that one’s about as professional as i get, it’s full of robot designs and sketches of scenes. its fun.

i am not a real artist aslkdfkljdfskjldsfkjl

Thoughts on any pets you have?

i love me pets! they are not my pets they are my parents pets but i take care of them more so who cares. i love them. i love all three doggos even if Gigi is an old lazy fart that doesn’t care about anything that isn’t sleeping, food, going outside, or bellyrubs. she doesn’t even listen to you if you call her or tell her to do something. i dont know what her deal is. and gemma!! is a depressed muppet. she’s probably just getting old herself even though she’s only,,, seven. we got a third dog and she never got over it. she is still my favorite though, she’s adorable and i love her little under bite and her big goofy eyes that don’t have a single thought or braincell behind them. she floofy and snuggley and a big ol scardey cat who always comes into my room for hours when there’s a Loud Sound outside which is great because i cant sleep when something else is alive in my room and its not me but whatever i cant say no to her, especially now that we’re both on the same floor and i would probably take a bullet for this funky lil fuzzball.

speaking of the third dog that is kiwi i post more pictures of her than anyone else for some reason but she’s a cute lil goblin. i mean what is this thing. what is it!! im not even entirely convinced its a dog, i think its a weird lil alien that knows what a dog looks like and that’s it

what is this thing!! dont know!! she’s plotting though!! i have never seen Thoughts happening in a dogs head before but she Knowes Things. she learned how to slap the other dogs. 80% of the time if you point a phone at her she stops moving because she somehow understands the concept of a “Camera.” she’s a little chaos bagel. a chaos bagel with a critical case of The Zoomies and a burning hatred of feet

we also have a budgie named olive. he’s pretty, but quiet

#liz blogs #ask meme #ask #serialsharkgay #ty for the ask... i love to ramble..... and i have So Many Thoughts All Of The Time.......#dogs #my dogs #long post #one day im going to edit tiny flames into kiwi's eyes because its funny #just get a gif of fire and photoshop it in there

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zodiacal-dust-and-curls · 5 years

Text

Fragile

A/N: No one requested this. It’s almost in celebration of the end of the Mercury retrograde. Thanks to my beta and PSM @mollymarymarie ily 🖤 Enjoy!

Warnings: illness, pregnancy scare, pregnancy, anxiety, depression (This was rough. I’m sorry?)

Word Count: 1.5k

Your flat was spotless. It was always kept neat, but there was usually some telltale sign of life; an open notebook, your ongoing crochet project, or your latest cup of tea. Something. But there was nothing. It was like you hadn't been there in days.

Brian was worried. You were always so good about letting him know if you would deviate from your plans. It was just lunch, but Brian had been gone for 2 weeks and was looking forward to seeing you again.

He rang your best friend to see if they had seen you. “Y/F/N, have you seen Y/N?”

“Brian, thank God you're back.” It came out so quickly. The last few days had been a wreck.

“Why do you sound so stressed? What's going on?” Brian was lost. You were missing. Y/F/N was stressed. Something had to have gone horribly wrong.

“Meet me at Y/N's flat. I'll be there in 5 minutes. There's too much to say over the phone.” There was a click and dial tone before Brian could object. So he waited as patiently as he could for the answers he so desperately needed.

You had been in the hospital for 2 days now. The doctors said that you had an ulcer due to a bacterial infection. Which was the reason you had been sick everyday for the last week and the reason you'd finally collapsed while studying with your best friend. You had terrified the poor dear, but now that you were on the mend, they were doing much better.

The chain of events that lead to this precise moment could probably be traced back to your first year of university. That was when you'd met Brian and you were immediately smitten. He was kind, reserved, and intelligent. You couldn't figure out what an astrophysics student was doing in your conservation biology class, but he had revealed an intense passion for preserving wildlife during syllabus week.

The two of you had been attached at the hip since then, despite very different class schedules. After a few months, he finally admitted that he had feelings for you and asked you to go steady. It was all too easy to accept and adjust to your new routine.

As the band took off, the two of you grew closer together and you learned more about Brian. Now, you knew him like the back of his hand. He was a creature of habit and very easy to predict. He also suffered from severe bouts of melancholy from time to time, you’d learned what would cause them and how to avoid triggering an episode. So although things were touch and go occasionally, you wouldn't trade a day with him for a single moment without.

Avoiding an episode was exactly what had landed you here. Your final set of midterms were upon you and a couple of your classes had the opportunity to end up below “sea level” if you weren't careful. Not to mention, you were late.

Two weeks late and sick constantly. It was nerve wracking to bring it up to the nurse, but you needed to know. She promised to get a test done discreetly and slip you the results when they came in.

It had barely registered to you that Brian was supposed to return home today until your best friend had called to let you know that they were both on their way. Everything would have to come out. Everything. Hiding it would only be worse.

No one knew about the test except you and the nurse. You weren't sure what you would do if it came back positive. You weren't sure what Brian would do either. You'd had a few calls while he was away, but never brought it up. This could send him spiraling and you couldn't handle that and midterms and being sick. It would be too much.

You'd fallen asleep with the help of pain meds and woke up to Brian by your side. He looked so tired. The trip must have been productive for him not to get much rest. You reached out and took his hand, drawing his attention to you.

“Good morning, Starlight.” He smiled sadly. This must be doing a number on him.

“Good morning to you, too, Sunlight. How was your trip?” You smiled with as much energy as you could muster. The medications had been helping, but you were still so tired.

“It was fine. We can talk about it later.” He was trying to deflect. Clearly, something was pressing on his mind. “Can you tell me what happened? Y/F/N wasn't very clear. They weren't making a lot of sense.”

You took a deep breath and got ready to launch into your story. You gave his hand another squeeze and held on for dear life.

“I'm so sorry for not telling you earlier.” You met his eyes. They were filled with worry.

“I've just been so stressed with school. These are some of my last exams and my classes aren't going as well as they should be.” You were so disappointed with yourself.

“So I've been pushing myself. And I haven't told you because you've been so busy with the band and your doctorate. I just can't bear to overburden you.” Brian looked ready to give you the lecture of your life, so you continued on. “My reward for being so foolish is an ulcer that's made me sick for the last week from an infection and stress that's compounding all the symptoms. I think I've learned my lesson.”

If anything, Brian only seemed more dead set on that lecture.

“Y/N, I'm not going to break. You don't have to hide bad things from me. We're meant to be partners, after all this time. You need to tell me things.” He wrapped his other hand around your wrist, careful to mind the IV line that was keeping you hydrated, and pressed a kiss to your hand as he raised it to his lips. The worried look hadn't left his eyes yet, but it was starting to lessen.

“I promise I will. I'm so sorry for putting you through this.” You unfurled your hand to caress his cheek. You had missed him so much while he was gone. “There's something else I should tell you, though.”

Before you could get much further than that, the nurse you'd been waiting on showed up. She placed an envelope on your legs and quickly left the room, not wanting to disclose anything that could make you uncomfortable.

Brian grabbed the envelope for you, but held it for just a minute. “I will give this to you, but I need to know what else you have to tell me.”

You took another deep breath. It was now or never, no going back.

“I might be pregnant and the answer is in that envelope.”

Something crossed his eyes and made them look like he was very far away. He handed the envelope over and waited while you opened it.

Highlighted in that oh so familiar neon yellow, there was one line of text that held your fate. “HCG: negative”

You teared up in relief. Kids were something you wanted one day, but not right now. You were too young, life was too unpredictable.

“Starlight?” You'd been so swept up in emotion you almost forgot about Brian.

“I'm not pregnant.” You turned to look at him. He had returned to you, but you couldn't place his emotion.

“One day, Sunlight. One day we can have all the children you want,” you were making a promise you so desperately wanted to keep. “Today is not ours, but we will get there, one day.”

You were lucky enough to be discharged later that day by your new favorite nurse. She gave you all the facts you needed on your condition and new medications. She also managed to secure a doctor's note that would postpone your midterms by 2 days. She was currently your savior.

Brian was given the task of helping you out for the next couple days as your strength returned. You would be semi-dependant on him while you were studying and confined to your bed or couch. He seemed determined to prove that he wasn't as fragile as you thought he was. He wanted to show you more than anything that you could depend on him.

Flash forward: 2 years.

It had been another 2 weeks of constant nausea and fatigue. You'd been controlling your stress better and keeping Brian in your internal loop. The two of you (read you) had learned how to share the load, without overworking yourselves. You were pretty sure that there was no ulcer this time.

In just 2 short minutes, you’d know.

You walked downstairs to see a mess of curls slumped next to a mug on the kitchen table. Brian had pretty much moved in during midterms your last year of uni and you couldn't find a reason to kick him out.

“Good morning, Sunlight.” It came out in a sing-song voice. A groan that sounded like “Morning, Starlight”.

“You can do better than that.” You poked at the curls and were rewarded with a sleepy smile and an arm wrapped around your waist. “There you are, my Sunlight. I think you'll find that today is our day.”

A/N: I really love these pet names, y’all. Each has been made into the study of the other. Sorry.

Tag List: @rogers-wristbands @gwilym-may

#brian may #brian may angst #brian may x reader #brian may imagine #queen imagine #tw: pregnancy #tw: anxiety #tw: depression mentioned #t writes #fragile #tw: hospitalization

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bakudekuficlibrary · 5 years

Text

BakuDeku: No Quirks AU Part IV

Click here for Part I, Part II, and Part III!

3 Series. 56 Works.

The Dragon Mark by multi_bnha ( M | 2,737+ | 2/? )

“Momma?” “Yes dear?” Inko asked. “Why do I have this mark?” Confused, Inko looked at her son. What is this little boy talking about? She checked all over his body and didn’t see any kind of mark on him. “What mark are you talking about sweetie? I don’t see anything on you.” “This one right here,” he says while lightly tracing above his elbow. Looking over his body again, she didn’t see anything different on him. “Are you sure there’s a mark on you Izuku?” Inko questioned one more time. “Yes momma, don’t you believe me?” Izuku said as tears started to form around his eyes. ‘Oh no, I didn’t mean to make him upset,’ Inko thought to herself. Pulling him in a hug she said,"Of course I believe you, don’t ever think that.” Sniffling he looked up at her, “Then how come you can’t see it? Is something wrong with me?” Feeling more guilty over what she said before she tried to reassure him that he’s normal and nothing seems to be wrong with him, even if she can’t visibly see it. As she’s comforting him, his tears slowly started to fall, but he made no sound and stayed in his mother’s embrace until he fell asleep.

you said you'd keep me honest (but i won't call you on it) by arifail ( T | 10,738 | 1/1 )

Deku wasn't Katsuki's problem so there really wasn't any good reason for him to be standing outside the nerd's door, hollering loud enough to wake the dead.

Or for Deku to be opening the door looking like the dead Katsuki had woken up.

Bakugou & His Plus One by wishingcomet ( T | 1,802+ | 1/? )

"So how did you guys get together?" "Spite." "Kacchan! That's not true!" Izuku sputters out. "What the hell do you mean, 'not true'? That's literally what happened!" Bakugou scowls at him. "No... It's not like that... Hmm, yeah ok." Izuku shrugs helplessly and nods in agreement, "It was spite."

------

After a couple of busy months, the Bakusquad decide to meet up again. Kirishima and Mina are about to have their wedding soon, and Bakugou hasn't filled out the wedding RSVP. The rest of the Bakusquad have already assumed that he doesn't have a plus one (which is correct), but Bakugou disputes their statements claiming that he has a date and a boyfriend. Now, he has to go find someone to convince them to play the part.

Hold by Eggs_in_a_cloud ( T | 2,202+ | 1/3 )

“Hi, how are you doing today?”

The blond’s look falters for a moment and he stares at Izuku for a second, warily, before he eventually grits his teeth and answers.

“Fuckin’ peachy. I want to take out these books.”

Tumblr Prompt:

‘I’m a librarian and i see you have a bunch of books about depression and suicide in your hand, hey buddy, want to talk to someone? I’m here if you need me’ AU

i've given up on you (and my skin and my bones) by MsFluorescent ( T | 2,028 | 1/1 )

katsuki is the lead singer of pop punk band scarlet knife ㅡ handsome and popular, with an ego to match.

but bakugou katsuki is a lonely man with a penchant for cigarettes and a heart that won't ever mend.

[Major Character Death]

Sweater Weather - KatsuDeku by EngelDreamer ( T | 608 | 1/1 )

Resta immobile, Katsuki, trattiene appena il fiato e fa vagare gli occhi alla ricerca dei familiari tratti del suo ragazzo, ma trema un poco, però, quando non lo vede, temendo che la notizia del suo ritorno fosse solo un’amara menzogna. Poi davanti a lui compaiono un viso paffuto pieno di lentiggini, riccioli scuri coperti da un cappello di lana, occhi acquosi ed un sorriso luminoso e Katsuki torna a respirare.

Series Part 3 of Sweater Weather

Pocket Watches and Dragon Kings by dazeful ( T | 3,977+ | 2/? )

Midoriya Izuku is tired of being treated like a child, but also hating the strain of adult responsibilities. When his temper finally explodes, the boy calls out to the Dragon King to take his little sister away. Now he will do anything to get her back.

Didn't Really Ask For This by ErrorTryAgain ( Not Rated | 35,272+ | 9/? )

Izuku Iida was a normal college student until he found out that his kind, strong, and honest brother, Tenya Iida is going out with a married woman, and not just any woman, it's Ochako Uraraka, one of Asia's most popular young actress. The problem is, as I said she's married, to Katsuki Bakugou, the young CEO of one of the largest and still growing trading company in Asia. Izuku felt bad for his brother, he couldn't bring himself to scold him nor tear them apart, this is his first time falling in love after all, so he decided to keep an eye on the husband so that they wouldn't get caught. He just didn't expect the consequences in doing that.

Greco - Roman by Eerei ( Not Rated | 6,712+ | 3/? )

After the attack on Corinthus by the ruthless Roman army, Greek Izuku Midoriya is forced away from everything he has ever known. Left wondering whether his mother is safe in Athenae or not, Izuku is suddenly caught up in the life of an Alpha General whose skills and features seem nearly god-like.

Say, why does the statue of Mars look so familiar? - Katsuki has found the one the Parcae have prophesized about. So, disguised as a Roman General, the alpha will drag the useless omega to the Mons Capitolinus before Jupiter to put an end to the possible destruction of the Olympians. However, there seems to be just one problem.

Why can't he hurt this greenhaired freckled nerd?

Izuku's Notebook by velvetcoke ( M | 2,242+ | 1/? )

It was almost like a dream.

Izuku Midoriya -- another twenty-two year old man with an impossible dream, big heart and low budget is granted with the shock of his life. After many attempts of trying to fulfill his dream as a successful fashion designer, his resume is finally accepted by a fashion company. And not just any company. Eraserhead; one of the world’s widest known brands. He is flown to interstate to begin his work. His first task is unexpected. To deliver a gown to a woman in the famous Hīrōparesu. Things begin to get complicated once he is insisted that he must replace the woman’s attendance at a prestigious ball.

There he meets a prince. He is everything he expected a prince not to be. Little did he know that he would soon become closer to him than he had ever thought…

[Series] Tickets Straight To Hell by Tokiji ( E | 30,378+ | 2 Works | WIP )

System of Love by themasterchef ( E | 4,493 | 1/1 )

Based off the Black Mirror episode "Hang the DJ". Midoriya and Bakugo live in a world where a system determines all your relationships to help find you your true love. After being paired up for 12 hours, Midoriya and Bakugo must go their separate ways, but will they really be able to let each other go? What happens when they are reunited? And the most important question of all; what lengths will they go to for love?

Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off by oyasumi_yue ( M | 2,728+ | 2/? )

Katsuki finds solace through an enigmatic stranger at a quaint bookstore his feet lead him to. Bewitched by their encounter, Katsuki desires more of the lovely stranger he met.

Roommates by KyliePaghan ( M | 11,139+ | 4/? )

Izuku is a journalist, and student, who managed to get a stalker because of his journalism. After his roommate abruptly moved out, he posted an ad on Craigslist looking for a roommate just to keep the stalker at bay.

Izuku is now a journalist, and student, with a roommate that claims to be a demon. Really, he shouldn't have thought a Craigslist ad would be a good idea.

Idea taken from Reddit/nosleep with permission. All credit for the idea goes to the original poster. Edit to author's note! If my link still doesn't work, the link for the story is in the comments!

[Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Stalking]

The Lion and Rabbit by GreyDayMoon ( E | 4,149+ | 2/? )

The slave gladiator Bakugou Katsuki was fearsome in the pits for his brutality and efficiency. His skill draws the eyes of a certain green eyed noble and Katsuki finds himself being pushed into a new life as the protector of the freckled man who will be caught in the middle of a war between kingdoms.

Series Part 5 of AU's I'm Thinking of Expanding On Later

[Graphic Depictions Of Violence]

Let's Not Make It Complicated by thegaylogic ( T | 7,590 | 1/1 )

labels are so overrated, let's not make it complicated.

why don't we just go get naked, let's not make it complicated.

Series Part 1 of 'Cause This Is All We Know

The Larkspur Strip Mall by Snows_Symphony ( T | 2,349+ | 2/? )

Katsuki and his BakuSquad™ run Porto's Pizza Place, a sweet little restaurant in a run-down strip mall. All is well and dandy until one day, their crappy landlord puts a Domino's right next to them. But can it be all bad? Because the cute green-haired manager of the new store seems pretty good to Katsuki

~~~

Or, Let's shove my ships into events based off of my life (no joke)

Not Another High School AU by MellowWrites ( T | 24,932+ | 3/? )

Izuku has been in love with the same guy for years, and no amount of bullying or warnings from friends will get him over this near obsession. Meanwhile, his best friend has been crushing on the girl of his dreams since middle school, and unluckily for Eijirou, she's dating an asshole.

The same asshole who Izuku is pining after.

[Underage | Homophobia]

whispers of love and scarring words by presageflower ( T | 9,923+ | 3/? )

Katsuki is Izuku's childhood friend and number one bully. Katsuki is able to sway everyone with his explosive force, while Izuku is weak, small and trips over his words more often than he would like to. He is, in many ways, the perfect target for Katsuki.

But Katsuki's actions have consequences and he is forced to face his own flaws, while Izuku constantly battles with his own.

[Bullying]

Mind Games by BlueFlameSakura ( M | 7,626+ | 3/? )

Bakugou Katsuki had been questioning the safety of the little town he lived in for a while now. How will he react now that he finds out first hand what forces are actually at play?

Especially when he has accidentally caught the eye of someone that spells a lot of trouble. Someone with a selfish desire to keep Katsuki to himself.

Green Roses and Smoke Tattoos by aekths ( M | 12,629+ | 8/20 )

bakugou katsuki is a tattoo artist. midoriya izuku is a florist that works just a couple buildings down. when bakugou starts ordering flowers for his shops, he starts to get closer to the midoriya family, izuku especially. izuku isn't exactly sure how to handle his fiery and unpredictable new customer.

What Am I? by FadedNobody ( T | 6,959+ | 1/? )

After crawling onto land over five years ago Katsuki discovered that life as a human could be pretty damn great. So when he finds himself training some nerdy green eyed loser at the surf shop why does his world suddenly stand still? +++ Izuku's stuck in life and as door after door of opportunity closes before him he turns to the only thing he has left. Surfing the blue waves of his home town. So where did this blonde asshole come from and why does he insist he's a local?

Hand Speak by pissunicorn ( E | 30,350+ | 12/12 )

“You think you’re some hotshot, huh? You’re not going to even apologize, aren’t you?” Bakugou folded his arms, waiting for him to get on his knees with grief, but he turned around and picked something up from the counter inside. “Hey! Hey are you serious? I’m talking to you!” Bakugou had no qualms about barging into his house uninvited. “I said I’m talking to you! Are you Deaf-”

He's not here (At least not yet) by Pheonixtan707 ( Not Rated | 2,228 | 1/1 )

Prequel to my first fic, 'He's right here'. Going back to the past, what happened to Bakugou Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku? Captured by human scientists, experimented on and later separated, how will they cope with it? And how will they escape

Headline: CEO Izuku Midoriya In Hot Water After Falling for One of His Employees by Matsumoto223 ( Not Rated | 2,989+ | 2/? )

AU where everyone is Quirkless. Fem Bakugo works for Izuku, the CEO of a large Japanese company.

Izuku's worked his whole life to be CEO and is just missing one thing....someone to love! Bakugo and Izuku's first encounter is less than stellar, but Izuku knows he has feelings for her. Can he find a way to make it work or does he risk his career in the process?

What Makes the World Go Around by NightshadeDawn ( Not Rated | 735 | 1/1 )

"Merry Christmas Little Shits 2018 - Day 1"

Bakugou's flight get cancelled. Well, it'll be a shitty Christmas- or... not?

Series Part 48 of That happened... Part 7 of Merry Christmas Little Shits

Porn to be a Star by SecretKiwi ( E | 12,653+ | 2/? )

Izuku needs a job, and maybe he finds more than a steady flow of income along the way.

Or,

Follow Izuku's journey through the pornography industry where he makes some cash, makes some friends and makes himself really fucking uncomfortable every day.

[Series] where does the good go by ivegotacaseofyou ( G/M | 5,236+ | 2 Works | WIP )

Playing Cards by honeyfever ( T | 1,534+ | 1/? )

Crazy Rich Asians AU where Katsuki is both Crazy and Rich, and Izuku doesn’t know how to deal with slightly overbearing parents, being thrust headfirst into Japan’s high life, and people who are rich rich.

[Series] Life at Age 30 by Infuzion ( T/E | 24,147+ | 4 Works | WIP )

[ Attempted Rape/Non-Con | Homophobia | Bullying]

[Abandoned] breathe ( E | 2,336 | 1/3 )

For most, the zombie apocalypse was something they had started out with. For others, they were born in it. Izuku Midoriya was the unlucky one out of many to be born inside of one.

[Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Major Character Death | Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con]

Kacchan's in the kitchen! by Hiimtyler ( Not Rated | 352 | 1/1 )

Why are making pancakes so fucking hard!?

My heart on fire by ChestnutPatronus14 ( T | 1,310 | 1/1 )

After a devastating season, Izuku is beginning to question if his injury wasn't actually a sign for him to stop ice skating all together. Bakugo convinces him otherwise.

Part of the BKDK Secret Santa 2018

Brand New Colony by ScientificallySinful (VampireGaaraCheesepuffs) ( M | 9,263+ | 2/? )

200 years ago the first child with animal characteristics was born. Now, over 20% of earth’s population is accounted for by “hybrids,” or humans with varying degrees of animal characteristics.

Midoriya knows what life’s like for a hybrid. He’s grown up with the stares, the comments, the weight of proving everyone wrong. At least, he thinks he knows hybrids. Until he meets a mysterious Alpha wolf under less than desirable circumstances. Suddenly Izuku is drawn into Katsuki Bakugo’s gravity and he doesn’t want to leave.

Unfortunately, Izuku needs to to make a choice. Does Izuku choose his human side, his animal side...or Katsuki?

Series Part 4 of A/B/Ohhh ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

dream a little dream of me by dekustyle ( T | 3,764+ | 1/? )

It’s there again — the blinking light.

Little by little, Katsuki notices the light getting bigger and bigger until he can finally catch a glimpse of a bouncing green curly hair from the other side of the light.

Is that shit like a portal or something?

—

or an au in which whenever people dream, they are transported to a parallel universe called 'chimera'. katsuki calls bullshit, but he's proven wrong when the usual thick black canvas of his dream is gradually broken down by a blinking light

A trois, bon ménage ? by Nafarik ( M | 8,561+ | 3/? )

Cela faisait déjà quelques années qu'Ochako avait recueilli Izuku chez elle et le petit lapin nain hybride avait fini par devenir sa petite oasis de paix, toujours là pour lui faire des câlins après une journée difficile. Pourtant son quotidien allait changer après sa rencontre avec ce loup blond secouru lui aussi d'une organisation illégale. Bien ou non le changement ? Elle allait bientôt le découvrir.

Realism Gives Itself Away by WhenJoshIsJoseph ( T | 6,826 | 1/1 )

Katsuki's mentor, All Might, is retiring, and he wants a piece of art commissioned - a crucial gift. He finally finds the right artist...but the person is anonymous. Izuku gets commissioned by some lawyer he doesn't know, and he doesn't usually take commissions, but the offer is just too tempting... Neither knows it's the other. ___ MERRY CHRISTMAS, SO HOE, I'M SO SORRY IF THIS AIN'T GREAT BUT I ADORE YOUUUU Also, VGC, you're a legend, thanks for organising this <3

Drive Thru Please by tokyo10 ( G | 1,117 | 1/1 )

it all started with Katsuki cutting Izuku off

Hotter than Hell by artistic18 ( T | 2,409 | 1/? )

Katsuki hasn't seen his childhood friend in over 10 years. They've kept in contact, but it's nothing like seeing each other face to face.

So if Katsuki seems flustered upon seeing him again, that's only because the airport needs to work on the shitty cooling system.

So Numb by Dnote147 ( M | 10,622+ | 4/? )

Just have to get through today.

That's what crosses my mind on a daily basis; almost like a mantra.

Just get through today.

Sometimes, it would almost sound like a melody, playing on a constant loop. If it weren't for the underlying motive for this internal repetition, I would almost find it hilarious.

Keyword: Almost.

Happy New Years, Nerd by BelleM ( E | 3,869 | 1/1 )

Katsuki is dragged to a New Years party, spots Izuku and wants to fuck him.

Series Part 1 of My Lucky New Year

Flower Boy by devilmanz ( E | 3,821+ | 4/? )

Izuku Midoriya is a YouTuber with over ten million subscribers.

Katsuki Bakugou is a song writer and YouTuber with twenty million subscribers.

Lets just say rumors spread.

[Past Addiction]

At the Mountain's Edge by Anzul ( M | 12,642+ | 2/? )

Muromachi Japan, 1465. Soulmates - once nothing but a flightful fancy among the Heian nobility - have become the political currency of the century. Blessed with telepathic communication and the ability to sense each other regardless of their geographical distance once a bond has been established, they are an invaluable commodity to any warrior hoping to amass power in the wake of the Ashikaga's weakening rule.

Bakugou Katsuki is no exception. But no matter what matchmaking house his family visits, they all tell him the same thing: that at the end of his red string, there waits no one. Katsuki is destined to walk his path alone.

Now forced to become a candidate for political marriage, Katsuki must learn the traditional arts and proper courtship etiquette to attract more suitors. Izuku, the adopted protégé and matchmaking master of the Midoriya House, is hired to be his tutor. Izuku himself is not only without a soulmate, but Bondless - someone without a red string at all, but capable of seeing everyone else's.

-----

[Or: An alternate soulmate x historical AU where everybody has soulmates except Katsuki and Izuku.]

Play The Field by lalazee ( E | 10,246 | 1/1 )

Baseball and feelings, feelings and baseball. Turns out, Bakugou and Deku are both good and bad at the same things. They try to work on it.

Desert Prince by ghoulz ( E | 6,534+ | 2/? )

Bakugou Katsuki is an Alpha. Midoriya Izuku is an Omega. Don't act like you don't know where this is going. Oh yeah and Bakugou's a prince in some dystopian land or something.

Becoming a dog-sitter to date a cutie by Heartbeat_in_japanese ( G | 1,133 | 1/1 )

{This fic doesn’t have a description! -Jay}

Can't Sleep Love by Fuyuzashi ( M | 5,841+ | 1/? )

Katsuki fell head over heels over a certain green eyed, freckle covered, honey skinned stranger in a night club. Later he found himself acting like a main character of a Netflix's cheesy romance series. He never knew he could do such dumb things just because of a tingly feeling in his chest caused by the hot stranger.

[ based on Can't sleep Love, a song by Pentatonix ]

Fine again by scarlettx9000 ( M | 3,063+ | 1/? )

Izuku and Katsuki become estranged after Izuku and his mother pack up and move cities without a word back in middle school only to be reunited in an 'and they were roomates' self indulgant fic

A Burrow for You and I by GreyLiliy ( E | 4,400+ | 2/? )

Katsuki and Izuku grew up together as neighbors, a human and a hybrid that most would call the best of friends. But after an unexpected step forward in their relationship, Izuku backed away and put distance between them—too much distance.

When Izuku arrives back home after a year of absence, he makes sure Katsuki is the first to see the fruits of his labor.

Series Part 2 of Hybrids x My Hero Academia

Cross-dressing and Relationships want to suffocate Izuku Midoriya by ErrorTryAgain ( Not Rated | 4,699+ | 2/? )

Let's make this short. Denki wanted to get Kyouka back from Katsuki, and in order to do so, he got his cousin, Izuku, to cross-dress and pretend as his girlfriend, then seduce Katsuki.

That itself is hard, so just imagine how much more difficult it is to seduce a guy who's trying (forcing) you to admit that you're another guy, and that you're... Deku?

give me love by gray98 ( T | 3,301+ | 1/33 )

midoriya izuku was looking for a new start, a way out from his old life of nightmares and haunted memories. he was sick of the stares, and he needed an escape. who knew that escape would come from a new cityscape and a brash blond with anger issues.

[Suicide Attempt]

i want to scream but i can't by lordyuuri ( T | 1,504 | 1/1 )

Reunions aren't always happy nor always welcomed.

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edelwary · 6 years

Note

when you were first getting into art, what and how did you draw? (like did you just doodle ur masterpieces on pieces of paper and posted-notes or did you have a proper sketchbook) how did you find motivation? bc ive been trying to draw but I always get unmotivated and stop while still wanting to get better just by doing nothing.

REALLY LONG, LOTS OF ADVICES FOR ARTISTS :

TL;DR ; skip to the HOW TO ACTUALLY FUCKING DRAW part bc i have a megaton of shit to say lol + The MOTIVATION part

mmh… I’ll get into details with this one tbh bc it’s a long ass process ahah :

I live by the sea ; when i was youung i used to draw TONS of boat, but like, dollhouse boats, you could see the insides and stuff ; i loved to add tiny details and stuff, and imbricate everything together !

around 8 or 9 yo, i went to the public library with school and discovered the wonderful world of mangas ! I basically… Copy pasted an entire Mermaid Melody tome x)

For about 2 years i alternated between reading mangas and trying to copy them ! Then i just kept drawing in the margins of my schoolwork for about… 5 years ! I have a Fuck Ton of sketchbooks of that time, it was… The start. Lol. Never say it’s bad because it’s never bad, just not there yet !!

Around my 13 yo, i went every saturday, for two years, under a bookstore ; there was a cave, and drawing classes ; that teacher was mean and harsh and stuff, but like… Not really. He would take away my eraser for the class, force me to use pencil, to draw something else (bulky boys instead of magical girls).

I’ve learned a lot, more in terms of How To LEARN to draw than to draw itself, but i still progressed a LOT !!

Then i kept drawing by myself for a year and i really worked hard on it ; about hours a day, trying watercolors and stuff ; i have a real problem with colors in traditionnal art, but i’m much better with lines (i should scan some RAD stuff i made in the weekend, yall ive never done anything this good i stg i dont know why i always forget im so much better on paper)

This gets us to my sweet 16 ; i have to year of advance, bc i got ‘’’promoted’’’ idk how to say it ; anyways, i entered my (current) animation school for the first year at 16; vERY IMPRESSIVE AND TERRIFYING.

And i learned. A fuckmegaton. Of shit there.

Now i’m going for my third year there and i can make photorealistic marmora blades and cyberkpunk decors if i want to and that’s rad, but here is

HOW TO ACTUALLY FUCKING DRAW :

I have one HYPER important advice, and i’m keeping it to heart since i’m like, 11 : Have. Sketchbooks. Please !!! It’s very important. Here’s why :

You keep everything with you in one place. You have 1 sketchbook, it’s basically easy to take every where (a A5, or A4 are pretty easy to carry, i have like, 12 of those, and around 8 of A3)

You keep track of what you’ve done. It’s super important, bc first you can cry of laughter at your old stuff bc its cute but not so good, and second, you can just be like ‘holy mama’ and see how much you’ve improved

It’s very important to be organized. I WORK in art, and trust me, if there’s something that i’ve learned this year through tears and missing files and bugs : Be. Impeccable. Now if it’s for fun, go a little loose, and just have a folder for art on your computer, and a sketchbook, no need to stress, but the better you try to keep a record of where is what, the better you’ll see whats wrong

Notebooks are friends !! You can draw, write, glue stuff, make notes, lists, everything !!! I have my life in those. It’s more important to me than any of my phones.

Be proud of it. Like, not everything, duh ! But try to tell yourself than it’s like a RPG ; even if it’s only 2 xp here and there, one day you’ll beat level 40, and that’s super important : art is. Fuckin. Long.

I cant stress it enough. It’s soooo long !!! SO LONG !! it’s years. It’s like karate and fishing and ANYTHING. To be good at it, it takes time, but it WILL COME if you keep trying. There’s no secret passage.

You’re gonna me it, believe in me who believes in you.

Use. References.

Coming from a little shit who’s got a really good visual memory, that can sound like bs, but i stg everything is always AT LEAST twice as good if you’ve used a visual support.

I’m not saying COPY EVRYTHING (even though thats a good training) I’m saying, if you really want to do that asian tiger, please have at least two or three pictures of it nearby. Take photos of your hands, and stuff !

Make it harder.

No eraser.

Paint.

I draw all my backgrounds on my sketchbook with INDIAN INK; no returns, no refunds.

Ink, Ink, INK !! Don’t allow mistakes.

And if you make mistakes :

New page, restart

It’s okay

It’s for you

I once started back again a whole EXAM bc it was bad, i got one of my best grades

You’ll improve and be more assured if you know you just have to DO IT. Trust me. It’s VISIBLE; if you can erase, you fidget and hesitate and ‘’kbeujebez hahhaaa idkkidsd’’ ; stop ; do it, and if you don’t like it ? Try again, there’s no time limit

Draw as large as you can

There’s no interesting story here, it just helps. Bigger movement of the hand, more place for details, breathing lines

Thin lineart helps

Thinner. Make it even thinner

Break the rules, but not the ones that structure your art

Big lineart ? Why not

Unfinished lines, vaporeous colors ? Pretty

Cubism is actually based on extensive and intense practice of classical art, it’s not wibbly wooblly ; the anatomy is more correct than you think

Structure and composition are important, but so is movement and life ; choose your fighter ; mine is fluidity and fun, i’m like, a rogue/archer in drawing. Some people are dwarf fighter. That’s amazing and great.

Don’t be afraid to do nothing

Pages and pages of my sketchbooks are actually just lance facing right and smiling, you know…

Sometimes it just doesnt work : two ways :

Take a break, Kiki’s delivery service style

Keep trying, break your art until it obeys and comes back

Take breaks. Breath.

Don’t compare. I do it, it doesn’t help at all. You’ll make it ; and if you compare, keep in mind that everyone’s different

I’m not gonna lie, it’s NOT easy, it’s even hard

But I really, really think it’s worth it

MOTIVATION :

My main bitch

I’m always pumped for art because i can LITTERALLY NOT do anything else ; i love reading and writing and stuff but at the end of the day i just want !!! to draw !!!! aaaaaa-

Fall in love with it, and with the possibilities ; i have stories to tell, tell me yours ! Do your best, one day it WILL work

Actual advices :

I have an inspiration blog where i just reblogs stuff i like to draw them later

Find a picture, copy it. Do it again. Change the characters (i have 2 ocs and Lance and Keith as default characters) in the pic.

Like an artstyle ? Break it to its very core, analyse it, copy it, redo it, trace it and ABSORB it. Don’t copy/past, LEARN from your heroes.

Do what you like. I have 86578 pieces of voltron, this is not a coincidence. I have ENDLESS ideas for this show, wtf.

Try new things. Buy indian ink im begging you. It’s so cool.

Have a game with yourself, or a challenge. STICK TO IT.

Study. When you’re bored, usually it’s because you’re stagnating. Make it harder or do hands until you cry.

Love your backgrounds; make backgrounds, study trees, and tokyo streets, and venice’s bridges. Decor is just as cool as characters, if not more

Mess a little with everything. My roomate more than one found me stained from head to toes trying to DO STUFF

Draw outfits. Draw what you want but can’t afford

MAKE YOUR LIFE A COMIC. Remember those sketchbooks ? Make a comic a week/month/every full moon, whatever, and draw your life (mine’s the roomates au lol)

Prompts blogs are cool too

Make fanart of a fic you liked ; you have the characters and the pose already, you just have to illustrate ; double bonus, you probably will make a writer’s day, if not year !

That little movie that plays when you listen to your favorite song ? DRAW IT

Your favorite scene in your favorite movie ? Redraw each shot. On post it. Plus it looks awesome afterwards to have the infamous TREX scene of Jurassic Parks in post it

Get bored. That’s inevitable. Dance, scream, get back to it. Walk, draw everything you see.

Make a paper google map street view : Take a walk : every 50 meters, draw what is in front of you.

Snapchats your friends. Draw their snapchats when they answer

Draw maps. Invent places. Invent bikes, and hovercrafts, and monsters. Make your everyday inventory. Make your life a video game, and do the concept arts of it.

FETCH your inspiration. I have approx. 20 artbooks, full of drawings and concept arts of my fave movies/games ; take what you like and add it to the story you have since you’re 8. We all have one.

Ask for it ; your sis, your mom, me even ! If you dont have ideas, someone will have them.

WELL i’m gonna stop there, even though i got like, 9864567 more to say, but with this you should be fine ! Anon, i’m rooting for you ! we all start somewhere, just hold on!!!!

#Anon you'll do it !!!!!!!!!!#asked #artist advice #art #i put my heart in this omg #it's 1.5 K WORDS #wtf #but yeah #you just gotta do shit and mess around

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