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nicknellie · 3 years

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@millie-andrews-rose requested: Alex gets put with a bully on a paired project, so Willie goes with him when they work on it to help him stay calm. Willie and the boy bond over skateboarding and Alex gets jealous, causing an argument between them. The boy then apologises to Alex for being so awful. Alex and Willie make up and it ends with their first “I love you”s. (This was edited/simplified just to make it shorter.)

This is the longest oneshot I’ve ever written and I absolutely love it. I really hope I’ve done you proud, especially since this was such a great prompt! Thanks!

And It’s Not My Fault

Alex adored projects. He loved having something big to focus on, a goal to work towards, something to keep him preoccupied. Any big time-consuming task was a lot of fun for him whether it was a five-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle or work for school worth a large part of his grade. There was, however, a single word that could be placed before the ‘project’ that would instantly transform it from Alex’s dream to his worst nightmare.

The word wasn’t ‘group’ as it would be for a lot of people. Alex liked group projects almost as much as he liked solo projects. Group projects were what he did with Julie, Luke, and Reggie almost every day, jamming in the studio and working towards having a complete set list in time for an upcoming gig. Group projects were what he occasionally did with Carrie and the girls of Dirty Candi when he would assist them with some choreography. Group projects were even tolerable with people Alex didn’t know well because he knew how they were supposed to work and usually he could convince everyone to do their fair share. So group projects were fine.

The word the ruined any chance of Alex having fun was ‘paired’.

Paired projects were the worst type of project. They always spelled trouble and Alex had never got a decent grade on one in his whole school career. It never felt like his fault, but when he thought about it he was the common denominator in every nightmare paired project scenario, so he had long ago decided that there must be something about paired projects that he was simply doing wrong.

Maybe it was that he wasn’t good one-on-one. Alex had always functioned better in groups (albeit small ones that couldn’t be overwhelming) and being face to face with just one person could be stressful. It was fine if it was a friend, and more than fine if it was his boyfriend, but when alone with a stranger Alex found himself running out of things to say and having nowhere to turn when the awkward silences set in. Or if he didn’t run out of things to say he would eventually say the wrong thing and that would start an entirely new alarm bell ringing in his mind as he panicked about accidentally being offensive. Overall, conversations without his emotional support band could be frustrating at best and somewhat dangerous at worst.

Perhaps it was true that Alex was the link in all these situations, but what he had always failed to consider was the fact that he had never been paired in a project with somebody who was actually willing to try and do well, which perhaps was a more prominent reason he’d never received a decent grade.

Alex had been having a good day. He was feeling bright for no reason in particular – needlessly optimistic days like this were his favourite, even though they usually were followed by needlessly pessimistic days as all those bad feelings caught up with him at once. Still, by now Alex had learnt to clutch that senseless joy while it was there and relish it before it was gone.

The joy was gone by noon.

“Alright, class,” Ms Osbourne said, clapping her hands to gain the class’s attention.

Alex hated his English classes. While he was good at English and rather enjoyed the subject itself, his class was rowdy and unruly and made it difficult to concentrate, while Ms Osbourne was a teacher so strict that if someone so much as thought about breaking a rule she would be able to sniff it out like a dog – but her bark was worse than her bite, and while she would shout an unnatural amount she rarely doled out punishments. The combination made for a lesson that was purely people shouting and no work being done.

The class quieted to a steady hum of chatter which was usually as silent as Ms Osbourne could get it. She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes, and continued. “Seeing as the end of the semester is coming up, I’m going to be setting you a project that will be worth forty percent of your grade. Essentially, it’s your final exam on our study of Macbeth.”

Alex perked up a little. He had been assigned projects for a lot of classes, but English projects were always the most enjoyable – they involved a lot of writing, which most people hated, but Alex found therapeutic; the only downside was that the source material was usually dreadfully dull. Still, Alex suddenly found himself looking forward to it.

And then she had to go and ruin it.

“I will tell you your assigned partners at the end of the lesson.”

Alex felt himself deflate and heaved a sigh. It had been too good to be true. Now he was going to be stuck on some boring project with a random student from his awful English class because he had no friends in this lesson and it was going to be horrible. It was all he could do to not let his head fall onto the table and scream in furious defeat.

It was on his mind all lesson. Who he was going to be with, what specific things the project would be on, how he could get out of it. His mind was buzzing with questions, building up energy that released itself by making his leg bounce up and down. Several times he found himself tapping out a rhythm on the table like it was his drumkit, his bouncing leg acting as if it was pounding the bass drum, and he had to force himself to stop and actually pay attention to the lesson.

The end came painfully slowly. The school bell rang and most of the students were up out of their seats immediately, ready to leave.

“Hang on,” Ms Osbourne yelled. “Everyone sit back down! I need to tell you your partners for the upcoming project.”

Alex listened attentively as she reeled off a list of names. Most people let out an annoyed groan when they found out they weren’t with a friend, and there was the occasional excited, “Yay!”

Alex knew he wouldn’t be one of the ones celebrating.

“Alex Mercer,” Ms Osbourne said eventually, pushing her glasses further up her tiny nose. “Your partner is Harry Reynolds.”

“Oh god,” Alex murmured. He felt his stomach squirm just as somebody kicked the back of his chair so hard that he jolted forward and nearly whacked his face on the table. The person laughed a moment later, obnoxiously loud, begging for retaliation – Alex didn’t dare turn around to look at them.

He knew already that it was Harry Reynolds sat behind him who had kicked his chair. His project partner, and possibly the worst person in the class that it could have been. For reasons unknown to Alex, Harry had always had it out for him. In middle school he had pushed Alex down a flight of stairs and he had landed unceremoniously in a trash can – Harry had started calling him Bin Boy and the nickname had stuck for a year afterwards; Harry was the only one who used it anymore though. Since then, Harry had just been a general jerk towards him, and upon hearing that they were going to be partners, Alex’s whole body told him to run.

Run where? Alex thought. This wasn’t a problem he could run from. Besides, Harry could probably run faster.

“Looks like it’s you and me, Bin Boy,” came Harry’s voice from behind. “I’m sure we’ll have loads of fun.”

Ms Osbourne finally finished listing pairs and then announced, “These partners are non-negotiable. I will not indulge any requests to switch for any reason. Life isn’t fair, sometimes we have to work with people we don’t like. Get used to it. Now go on, you’re already late for your next class.”

Alex wasn’t usually one to ignore instructions, but as the rest of the class filed out into the hallway he remained behind. He didn’t know what he was planning to say to Ms Osbourne, but he desperately needed to find a way out of the project, or at least switch partners.

“Go on, Alex,” Ms Osbourne said, “you’re going to be late.”

He swallowed thickly and said, “Miss, I was just wondering about the proj–”

“You’re not swapping partners,�� she returned sternly. “I’ve already said this. I won’t make any allowances.”

“But, Miss, I can’t work with him,” Alex protested. She raised her eyebrows and started walking around the room, putting sheets on each table for her next class. Alex followed her as she went. “He hates me! It’s going to be awful.”

“Well, maybe the two of you can use this as a way to bond and get to know each other better, hm?”

“Miss, please,” Alex said, his desperation finally rearing its ugly head in his voice. He could feel his legs shaking and his hands wringing themselves together and his head tingling in a way he couldn’t describe, and finally he broke. “He has it out for me and I don’t even know why! He’s been awful to me ever since we were kids, he tries to pick fights with me, he calls me names. Last year he chased me around the field with a baseball bat for a whole PE lesson! If I have to work with him I’ll just end up panicking – or dead, that’s also a possibility – and the project will go terribly and I’ll fail the class. Please can I just work by myself?”

Ms Osbourne’s expression softened as she look at Alex over her glasses. For a moment, Alex’s hopes were raised just that tiny bit – maybe he had got through to her, maybe she would see sense.

But then her face turned to stone again.

“No,” she spat. “What you can do is figure out with Harry when the two of you are going to work on this project and how you’re going to go about it. And you can get to your next class.” She turned away with a cold air of finality. Alex could have sworn he actually felt chills.

Without a word, Alex heaved his bag onto his shoulder and made his way out of the classroom, crushed and dejected. He stared down at his feet as he walked and tried not to think about what the next few weeks could have in store for him.

Lunch couldn’t have come sooner. After what felt like an eternity, Alex finally made his way down to the cafeteria to meet up with his friends. If there was any one thing that was guaranteed to cheer Alex up when he was in a bad mood, it was the good company of his band and his boyfriend.

The rest of the group was already sat at their usual table when Alex arrived in the cafeteria; just seeing them laughing and joking together put the tiniest hint of a smile of his face. He headed over to them, but was stopped in his tracks by somebody stood in front of him – it was Harry Reynolds.

The boy had his arms crossed over his massive chest and was leering down at Alex with an expression of disgust. Alex tried to look past him at his friends, to get their attention, to ask for help, but they hadn’t seen him. Instead, he forced himself to look up into Harry’s brutish face and try not to squirm.

“Partners, huh?” Harry grunted. “I’m failing English so you’ll need to get us a good grade.”

“That’s the plan,” Alex said, willing his voice not to shake. It wasn’t that he was too frightened or intimidated by Harry, it was just the fact that he really didn’t feel like getting chucked in a bin today. One wrong move and he could consider that a real possibility.

“Be at my place on Saturday at one. Bring all your notes – I don’t have any.”

“I can’t do Saturday,” Alex told him, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I have band practise.”

Harry took a step closer. Alex couldn’t move back – his feet were rooted to the spot. “You think I care about your dopey little band practise? You’ll be there. That’s that.”

Alex swallowed, nodded hurriedly, and finally forced himself to take a step back so that he wasn’t chest to chest with Harry. “I’ll be there,” he echoed, still nodding.

Harry snarled, condescendingly patted Alex on the head, and walked off. Alex took a moment to collect himself, to breathe, to remind himself that he was okay and he wasn’t hurt, that Harry hadn’t done anything. He steadied himself and kept walking towards his friends, trying to mask the worry on his face.

Of course, he failed miserably.

The moment Alex sat down in his usual space between Willie and Luke, Willie took his hand, watching him with concern. “Hey,” Willie said gently, “what’s up?”

Julie, Luke, and Reggie immediately stopped their conversation, turning to face Alex and Willie. Alex hated the way they were looking at him, like he’d break if they dropped him, but it wasn’t like he could ask them to stop caring – instead, he looked at each of them, trying and failing to give them a reassuring smile before he spoke.

“Nothing,” Alex said, “nothing, it’s just… just this project for English.”

Luke sighed dramatically. “Has your class got that stupid Shakespeare assignment too? I get it, bro, it’s totally pointless–”

“No,” Alex interrupted quietly. “No, that’s not it. Well, kind of. Yeah, we’ve got the Shakespeare assignment but that’s not… not the problem.”

“What is it?” Willie prompted gently when Alex didn’t continue.

Alex shrugged. “It’s stupid.”

Julie leaned over the table and grasped Alex’s other hand. “Alex, your feelings are not stupid.”

She smiled warmly. Funny things happened when Julie smiled – when she did it to Luke, it wasn’t uncommon for him to literally trip over himself; when she did it to Reggie, it made him smile in return for hours on end; and when she did it to Alex, it gave him such overwhelming confidence that for a moment or two he could truly do anything.

“It’s just that we were assigned partners and I got stuck with Harry Reynolds,” he admitted, clutching Willie and Julie’s hands tighter. “It’s nothing and I shouldn’t be worried but–”

“It’s not nothing,” Willie said. Alex couldn’t quite read his expression – it looked to be something between sympathy and outrage. “That guy is the worst. Did you talk to your teacher about it?”

Alex nodded gravely. “She wouldn’t let me switch.”

“How much did you tell her?” Willie asked.

“What I thought would have been enough,” he replied, shrugging like it was nothing. “But it wasn’t.”

“She should be fired for that,” Reggie interjected. Everyone turned to look at him. “I’m just saying – if by ‘enough’ you mean that you told her what a jerk he’s been to you then she should follow that up and treat it like an issue instead of making you work with him.”

What would have been wise words were ruined slightly by the fact that Reggie spoke them around a mouthful of pizza.

“Reggie’s right,” Julie said, “she’s definitely in the wrong here.”

“I know that,” Alex told them, because he did, that much was obvious. “But it’s a little late for that now. I’m stuck with him.”

Willie clutched his hand tighter, threaded their fingers together. Alex leaned to the side, rested his head on Willie’s shoulder. Julie let go of his hand and Willie immediately picked it up – he smiled a little at both of them.

“I know saying it’s all going to be okay won’t help,” Willie whispered to him, “but you’ve got to try and believe that it will. And if it isn’t, I am just one call away. If you need anything – I mean anything – you call me and I will be there. Okay?”

Alex’s tense muscles relaxed the tiniest bit. “Okay,” he muttered back. “That’s okay.”

Willie kissed the top of his head and a fraction of Alex’s anxiety lifted. Willie would be there when he needed him no matter what. That was something he could always count on.

Luke hadn’t been happy when Alex had called him early on Saturday morning to tell him he wouldn’t be coming to band practise that day. He had given Alex a half-hour-long earful about how they had a gig coming up in a few days’ time and they needed to be rehearsing like crazy. It hadn’t been pleasant for Alex in the slightest, but at least it had been a welcome distraction from the other thing on his mind, the reason he had had to cancel band practise in the first place.

It was the day he was supposed to go to Harry’s house to work on their project. Alex had hardly slept the night before – he had lay awake in bed for hours, tossing and turning, trying to empty his mind and relax, but sleep just wouldn’t come. At half past two he had crept downstairs and made a batch of brownies using a recipe of his grandmother’s. At the time he’d thought that maybe he could use them to placate Harry once he got to his house, but he’d accidentally ended up stress-eating the entire batch instead.

He felt sick, but couldn’t tell if it was the brownies or the anxiety. Probably an unhealthy mix of both, he decided.

But he had passed the first hurdle and he told himself to be proud of that – he had arrived outside Harry’s house. It was a small bungalow on a road that led nowhere and Alex was struck by how normal it looked. It didn’t look like the sort of place somebody like Harry Reynolds should have lived; Harry was larger than life, tall and brooding, moody and mean – this house looked as if its occupants sold flowers and rescued kittens in their spare time.

Despite the outward appearances of the house, Alex was almost certain that he was in the right place. The front window seemed to show Harry’s bedroom because through it Alex could see innumerable trophies, all for different sporting events; a large stack of magazines (Alex was sure he could already guess what each contained); and a small enclosure that looked to Alex unbearably similar to a tank that might house a snake or a spider or any other creature that Alex would have preferred stayed thousands of miles away from him where it belonged.

He could not make himself walk into the house.

He had been trying for almost fifteen minutes and had walked past the house almost thirty times. He had counted his steps and was somewhere near eight thousand. His mind was racing, shooting through a hundred anxieties before Alex had the chance to dwell on any of them – maybe that was for the best. But it didn’t help the fact that he could not force his legs to walk in the direction of the door.

The worries stopping him weren’t even big ones like ‘What if he tries to hurt me?’ which Alex stressed over every time he interacted with Harry. It was the little things and the impossible things pricking the back of his mind like needles: What if he doesn’t answer the door? What if nobody’s home? What if I’m at the wrong house? What if he’s changed his mind? What if I got the wrong day? What if I got the wrong time? What if he’s not actually my project partner? What if… What if… What if…

What if I call Willie?

Alex blessed his brain for having its first sensible thought that day. He fished his phone out his pocket and called Willie, who picked up after one ring.

“Hey,” Willie said, “what’s up, hotdog?”

“I, um… I’m at Harry’s house. I can’t go inside.”

“Why not?” Willie asked. “Is the door locked? Are they out?”

Alex shook his head although Willie couldn’t see him. “No. I don’t think so. It’s just… I… I can’t do it.”

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Willie asked patiently.

“I can’t go inside,” Alex repeated. With his free hand, he tugged at the strap of his fanny pack, fiddling with the buckle where it lay over his chest. “I can’t go up to the door. I’ve been trying for, like, twenty minutes and every time I try my head starts buzzing and my legs go numb and I’m starting to feel really sick now because I ate an entire batch of brownies meant for at least ten people and I can’t do this–”

“Okay,” Willie interrupted. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Breathe, Alex. Remember the breathing exercises we went over? Breathe in for four and out for six. Come on, hotdog, you’ve got this.”

Alex did as he said, taking great shuddering breaths of bitter air and releasing them slowly. Willie kept talking him through it, slowly, softly, kindly, and after about ten minutes Alex felt refreshed. Not necessarily worry-free, but his mind had cleared a little bit.

“Okay,” Willie said. “That was great, well done. Can you give me this guy’s address?”

Alex gave it to him.

“Luckily for you, that’s just down the road from where I am right now,” Willie said, chipper. Alex could hear the smile in his voice and it almost made him smile himself. Almost. “I’ll be there in a minute. I’ll go inside with you, if that’s what you want?”

Alex breathed a haggard, relieved sigh. “Yes. Please. If you don’t mind. Thank you, Willie.”

Willie gave a small chuckle. “Any time, hotdog. You know I’d do anything for you. I’ll see you in a minute.”

And he hung up.

Alex waited, still doing his breathing exercises, but didn’t need to wait long. Hardly five minutes later, Willie rolled up (literally – he was on his skateboard) and gave him a bright smile. Alex didn’t hesitate before lurching forward and pulling him into a hug.

“Thank you, Willie,” he whispered. “I really appreciate it.”

Willie’s response was simply to hug him tighter.

Together, hands clasped tightly between them, Willie with his board tucked under his arm, they made their way up to the bungalow’s front door. Alex swallowed, steeled himself, and then firmly knocked on the door. When nobody answered it in the first five seconds, Alex told Willie, “This is a bad idea,” and tried to turn away to leave.

However, Willie just pulled him back and a moment later the door opened. On the threshold of the house was Harry, staring down at Alex and Willie. Something about him wasn’t quite as nightmarish as it was at school, yet at the same time Alex was much more afraid. He held Willie’s hand tighter.

Harry nodded in Willie’s direction. “Who’s this, Bin Boy? You brought your boyfriend?”

“Actually, yeah,” Willie said, speaking for Alex. He was glad – his throat felt thick and he didn’t think he could have summoned up any words if he tried. “I’m Willie. I’ve heard about you.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? What?”

“Just a few things,” Willie said nonchalantly. “Nothing important. Anyway, I was in the neighbourhood and Alex and I are set to hang out when he’s done here anyway so I thought I’d come along. Is that alright with you?”

“It’s fine,” Harry returned with a shrug. Then his eyes landed on something and his entire expression changed. Alex didn’t think he’d ever seen Harry look like this before. Could it have been what he thought it was: excitement? “Bro! You skate?”

Willie lifted his board half-heartedly. “This isn’t just for decoration.”

Harry grinned, clapping Willie on the shoulder so hard that his hand dropped from Alex’s. “Dude, that’s sick, I do too. Come on, get inside, man.”

Harry headed back into the house and Willie followed him. Alex took a moment to wonder what the hell that had been, then took a deep breath and hurried after them. When he caught up with Willie he grabbed his hand again. Willie just smiled bemusedly up at him.

Harry led them to his bedroom and beckoned them towards his desk.

“Come look at this,” Harry said. “I had a photo taken with Tony Hawk last year!”

Alex perched himself right on the edge of the bed awkwardly as Willie went over to inspect the framed photo.

“Are you sure that’s Tony Hawk?” Willie asked. “Doesn’t look like him.”

Harry shook his head. “You’ve got to imagine he’s holding a skateboard, then you’ll see it.”

Alex watched Willie squint at the photo for a moment or two longer, then he gasped and, to Alex’s horror, began to smile. “Oh, wait… yeah, kinda. That’s awesome, dude!”

“Yeah! Anyway, how long have you been skating for?”

As Willie answered, Alex zoned out of the conversation. Ordinarily, he loved listening to Willie talk about skating – he lit up whenever he explained a new trick he’d learnt, and seeing him flush with pride after he demonstrated it perfectly to Alex always made him feel giddy – but it just wasn’t the same listening to him chat with Harry Reynolds of all people. Alex didn’t even know who that Tony Hawk guy was and it didn’t seem like anyone was about to bother explaining it to him. He would never have admitted it, but listening to Willie talk to Harry was almost annoying.

He busied himself by looking around the room, getting a glimpse at what the real Harry Reynolds was like. At school, Harry was the classic, early-2000s movie jock, on every sports team the school had to offer, constantly bragging about his luck with girls, and picking on people smaller than him (which, because Harry was built like a tree trunk, was pretty much everyone). His room reflected it too; there were even more trophies than Alex had seen through the window, most for football or, unexpectedly, karate, and the walls were plastered in posters displaying buff men and weirdly specific motivational quotes. Only now did Alex notice the skateboards stuck on the wall and the stack of helmets by his bed, as well as several skating posters directly above them.

He turned back to Willie and Harry just in time to hear Willie laugh. Properly laugh, loud and genuine. Willie only laughed like that with his friends and it hearing it in Harry’s room stirred an uneasy feeling in the pit of Alex’s stomach.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, trying to smile.

Willie waved him off. “Don’t worry, hotdog, just a skating joke.”

Harry snickered, shaking his head. “Pretty freaking funny though.”

“Oh,” Alex said. He tried for a laugh but it was the least genuine noise he had ever made – judging by the look Harry sent him, it had been obvious how fake it was to him too. Alex cleared his throat awkwardly. “Shouldn’t we get on with our work? We’re already running behind schedule.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Shut it, Bin Boy, we’re having a conversation here. You start if you want, I’ll join you whenever.”

Alex sent a look to Willie, eyes wide and pleading. Willie frowned, looking conflicted, but then shrugged.

Willie and Alex didn’t fight often, but Alex wouldn’t have minded giving Willie a piece of his mind right then and there.

He didn’t though. He sighed, shuffled back on the bed so that he could have more room and lean on the mattress, and he started working on the project. It wasn’t too difficult, just an analysis on the themes of Macbeth, something they had gone over in class a hundred times; still, Alex would have appreciated some help, seeing as this was a paired project and he didn’t exactly want to do the whole thing alone.

But it was fine. He kept telling himself that it was completely and utterly fine. But every so often Willie or Harry would laugh or suddenly shout, and the abrupt noise would startle Alex. The third time that happened he accidentally jogged his highlighter so it zigzagged all over his painstakingly neat paragraph on King James I. He gripped his pen so hard that the plastic almost cracked, and set about writing the whole thing again on a new piece of paper.

Alex didn’t know how long he had been working for, but he did know that it had been a hell of a long time and Harry still hadn’t made any effort to help him. He had copied up all his notes on the supernatural, women, ambition, and the Great Chain of Being, all the while Harry had sat there with Willie, not doing anything.

The strange thing was, Alex found himself more angry at Willie than he was at Harry.

Eventually, he checked the time, his hand aching. It was almost five o’clock, which meant he had been working alone for about four hours solidly. He had done pretty much half of the project in that time and was nearing his breaking point – he thought that if he left now he could catch the tail end of band practise and take his frustration out on his drumkit.

Gathering his notes and all his work, Alex said, “I’m going to head out.”

Willie checked the clock on Harry’s desk and then set about clipping his helmet on. “Yeah, we should get going. This was fun, though, man. It was nice to talk to a fellow skater for once.”

“I hear you, dude,” Harry returned. They fist-bumped and Alex physically cringed. “Catch you later.”

Alex didn’t say goodbye, just saw himself out. He didn’t wait for Willie. He simply walked, trying to get out of the house and as far away as possible in as little time as he could. Alex could hear Willie shouting for him to wait up but he didn’t stop.

He felt Willie grab his hand and pull him to a halt, but pulled his hand from Willie’s grasp.

“What’s up with you?” Willie asked, seeming truly bewildered. “I thought that was alright back there, it was relaxed, not stressful. Are you still feeling anxious?”

Alex didn’t answer his question and instead he said with much more venom than he had intended, “What the hell was that?”

Willie looked taken aback. Alex almost felt bad. Almost.

“What was what?”

“In there!” Alex yelled, pointing in the direction of Harry’s house. “You talking to him like you’re best friends! That guy is a jerk, you know that, Willie, so why were you laughing and joking with him as if he’s the nicest guy in the world?”

Willie didn’t look impressed. “Sorry, I was under the impression you wanted me there. I was talking to him to distract from you. That’s what you wanted, right? You were nervous about going so you wanted my help to take the pressure off you. I was helping you, Alex, because that was what you asked me to do!”

“Not like that,” Alex protested. “You weren’t supposed to bond with him, leave me out completely so that I had to do all the work by myself and listen to you two talk about skateboards and… Toby Eagle, or whoever that guy was!”

“It was Tony Hawk. And it’s not my fault that Harry likes skateboarding,” Willie shot back. “It’s also not my fault that I enjoyed talking to someone who shares that interest for once. You listen and you pretend to know what I’m talking about, but it isn’t the same.”

“It didn’t have to be him!”

“Actually, given the circumstances, it did. And like I said – it got the attention off you, so I don’t see why you’re complaining.”

Alex felt his temper rising with each sentence. He never got this upset at Willie, this was a complete first. Sure, they had argued like any couple would, but he had never felt any real anger towards his boyfriend. It frightened him, and that fright stopped him from seeing any sense, taking a step back, calming himself down.

“I didn’t want you to do it like that,” he said, as if it was obvious. It was obvious to Alex – why wasn’t it obvious to Willie?

“I can’t read your mind, Alex,” Willie shouted, pointing at himself. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head!”

“You should know!”

“I don’t! It could be anything! I don’t think you realise that when it comes to you and your anxiety, I’m pretty much flying as blind as you are. Sure, I’ve done my research and I can handle it, but I never know what’s going to trigger you and set you off like earlier today. I may seem prepared, but I don’t know what you’re thinking and I don’t know what you’re going to worry about most. It is not my fault that sometimes I might not handle it in the best way. I’m trying my hardest, Alex.”

“You aren’t the one who has to go through the panic attacks and the constant worry, are you?” Alex seethed.

Willie shrugged. “No, I’m not. But I still worry about you all the time because I don’t know what’s going to set you off.”

“It’s not my fault I have anxiety,” Alex yelled.

“I never said it was! But it’s not my fault either – I dropped everything just to come and help you today and all you’re doing is throwing it right back in my face and arguing with me for helping you out! It’s not my fault that you can’t do these easy things and that you need me to hold your hand all the time!”

Alex froze. Willie did too. The words were out there, they’d been spoken without hesitation. They hung between the two of them like a toxic cloud, as both of them slowly realised the weight those words had held.

Willie broke the silence, reaching out his hand to Alex, trying to bridge that gap between them that had widened impossibly in the last ten seconds. “Alex, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean t–”

Alex stepped back, out of reach from Willie. Willie flinched and he withdrew his hand, instead crossing his arms and rubbing circles by his elbow with his thumb. It was a nervous tick Alex only ever saw when Willie was really stressed out. Normally he would have tried to soothe him, calm him down, but all he could hear were Willie’s words echoing back and forth through his mind.

It’s not my fault that you can’t do these easy things and that you need me to hold your hand all the time!

Alex schooled his features to careful neutrality, not betraying any emotion. It wasn’t hard, seeing as he wasn’t feeling much at that moment anyway, just a cold detachment.

“I heard you,” Alex said quietly. He couldn’t look Willie in the eye. “I heard exactly what you said. I know what you meant.”

“Then you’ve got to know that I wasn’t trying to–”

“I know what you meant,” he repeated. “I’m going back to band practise. I don’t think you should come and watch today.”

He shook his head and, turning on his heel, walked away. He didn’t hear Willie’s footsteps following him this time.

Band practise had helped calm Alex down with a mixture of wrestling his drumkit and talking things out with Julie, Luke, and Reggie. They had all seemed utterly shocked that Willie would say anything like that, but Alex wasn’t so surprised. After all, things like this were what he worried about – being left alone, being disliked by the people he cared for most, being a nuisance, being abandoned. Deep down in the pit of his worst anxieties, he had been worried that something like this could have happened.

He just had never thought it would have come from Willie.

While band helped him calm down, it didn’t help cheer him up. He regretted even bringing the argument up in the first place – if he had ignored his feelings (which Julie had bluntly explained to him were jealousy) then he could have avoided the whole argument. Instead of lying in his cold bed, unable to sleep that night, he could have been curled up with Willie on the couch in the studio, warm and cosy because Willie was like a human radiator.

He knew that neither of them had been fair on each other. He could see Willie’s side of the argument once he had calmed down. But he knew that what he had said was equally valid and he couldn’t get past the scorn in Willie’s voice when he’d said those damning words.

He didn’t hear from Willie all throughout Sunday and didn’t make any moves to contact him himself either. If he did, he had no clue where he would have even begun. Perhaps an apology – but where was he supposed to take the conversation from there?

So Sunday was silent.

Alex was slightly dreading school on Monday, but he wasn’t about to ruin his high grades by not showing up, especially this close to the end of the semester. Grudgingly, he headed to school and went straight to his first lesson, which just so happened to be the lesson from Hell: English.

He arrived there before the rest of the class, including Ms Osbourne, which meant he had time to dwell on his thoughts alone. He probably wasn’t going to fail this class – despite Saturday having been a nightmare, he had managed to get a lot of good work done on the project and it would be of a very high quality when he finally got it finished. But he still had more work to do and he knew that he really ought to do it with Harry. Absently, he pondered whether or not to bring Willie next time he needed to go to Harry’s house.

Talk of the devil, Alex thought as the classroom door swung open and none other than Harry himself sauntered in. He looked at Alex sat there alone, the only other person in the room, and grunted, coming to sit beside him.

Alex didn’t have the energy to be scared of Harry Reynolds today.

“I’ve been looking for you, Mercer,” Harry said conversationally.

“Oh, joy,” Alex deadpanned. Harry looked surprised, probably because Alex wasn’t cowering in fear, but he shrugged it off.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he continued. “I just wanted to say that your boyfriend, that Willie guy, he’s really cool. I mean, the way he was talking about skating the other day – I don’t know if you realise it, man, but he has a real shot at going pro.”

“I know,” Alex spat. “He’s my boyfriend, of course I know. Maybe I don’t skate but I still listen to him. And I know him better than you do.”

Harry held up a hand. “Woah, calm down, Bin B– uh. Alex. I’m just trying to say the guy is really cool and you’re really lucky to have him. And also… talking to him the other day, he said– well, you weren’t listening, were you?”

Alex shook his head.

“We did stop talking about skating at some point, you know,” Harry told him. “Willie was telling me how awesome you are and, you know, explaining why he likes you so much. And I guess it made me realise that I’ve kind of been a jerk to you for a long time – I mean, he literally told me so. He told me to stop being such a douchebag to you.”

Alex grunted. “He’s right. You should stop. It sucks.”

Harry nodded. “I wanted to apologise for it, I guess. I’m sorry for being so nasty to you. I think it’s just because I was young and dumb and I didn’t realise it was hurting you at first, then it just stuck. I kind of always thought it was friendly too – I didn’t think you minded. I thought it was banter.”

“It wasn’t,” Alex said, meeting his eyes. “It never was. I’m terrified of you, you’ve made my life a misery. Thanks for the apology, but it’s no excuse.”

“I know that,” he admitted. “But I just wanted to explain why. I’m going to try my best to be a better guy from now on. It won’t make up for everything I’ve done in the past, but can you give me a chance to get this right?”

Alex considered. Somehow, Harry seemed completely serious. His expression was slightly pleading and he looked a little awkward and uncomfortable to be asking this of Alex, but it seemed real.

So he nodded.

“Fine. Thank you.”

Harry clapped him on the back. “No worries, dude. And, uh… this might not be my place to ask, but are you okay? You look down.”

Alex shrugged. “I had an argument with Willie after we left your place the other day. I’ve not spoken to him since.”

“Was it my fault?” Harry asked.

“Kinda,” Alex told him, shrugging again. “I just… I didn’t like how friendly you two seemed. After everything you’ve done to me in the past, watching him get along with you like it was nothing made me a little mad.”

“Sorry, bro,” Harry said, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m not into him or anything, so you’ve got nothing to worry about there – plus, he’s crazy about you, so even if someone else did like him they’d be out of luck. I just wanted to talk with someone about skating for once, none of my friends are into it.”

“Willie said the same thing,” Alex admitted.

Harry nodded awkwardly. “I don’t have any say in your relationship, but honestly I’m kind of invested in it now and I think you guys should talk it out. I’d hate to think I played some part if you ended up breaking up over this.”

“I don’t want to break up with him,” Alex objected, horrified. The thought of breaking up with Willie, losing him forever, made him feel sick to the stomach.

The rest of the class began filing into the classroom. Harry stood up, shrugged, and then clapped Alex on the shoulder.

“Go talk to him, then.”

Alex, for the first time in his life, took the advice Harry had given him and decided to take that first, absolutely terrifying step towards fixing the break between himself and Willie. If he knew his boyfriend (and he did) then Willie would have gone to the skatepark straight after school, so that was where Alex headed too.

Sure enough, Alex found Willie at the skatepark, sat at the top of the highest ramp. Every now and then, someone on a board would do a trick nail-bitingly close to Willie’s face, but he didn’t flinch even once. He was staring off into the peachy sunset, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Alex climbed up there and sat himself down next to him.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked uneasily.

Willie startled and turned to Alex, caught unawares. “Alex! I thought you–”

Willie didn’t get to finish his sentence because Alex pulled him into a tight, bone-crushing, fierce hug, pouring every last ounce of love and regret into it. He felt Willie hug back with equal force and buried his face into Willie’s long hair. This, he knew, was how it was supposed to be – Alex and Willie, boyfriends who care far too much about each other, not Alex and Willie, boyfriends on the edge of a break-up.

Eventually, Alex withdrew himself and let Willie go mostly, still keeping a tight clutch on his upper arms.

“I am so sorry,” he said, breathless. “I’m sorry for everything I said and for starting the argument and for everything that happened that day.”

Willie shook his head. “Don’t. I’m sorry, I should have realised how talking to Harry like that would have made you feel. It was dumb of me, and I shouldn’t have said such hurtful things to you, and–”

“I get it,” Alex said breezily, “I’m a lot to deal with.”

Desperately, Willie said, “But that’s not what I meant! I can’t explain what I was trying to say, but I wouldn’t change anything about you or our relationship for the world. You mean the everything to me, Alex, and I never want to do something to jeopardise what we have ever again. I’d do anything to take back what I said to you that day.”

Alex pulled him back into the hug, needing to be close to him. “It wasn’t just you. It was both of us. And Harry. But we’ve all apologised now, even him, so we can put this whole thing behind us.”

Willie pulled back, surprised. “He apologised?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, nodding. “Because of you. He said you were going on about how amazing I am and he realised he’d been a jerk.”

Willie blushed the tiniest bit, and playfully punched Alex’s arm. “Well, you are amazing. You’re more than amazing. You’re a miracle and I’m lucky to have you.”

Smiling, Alex cupped Willie’s cheek and gently pulled him in for a kiss. It was soft, slow, and Alex felt like they were glowing, bright and warm and happy. They kissed until every unspoken word had been said, until the last of the orange sunset had ebbed away into night-time blue, until streetlights cast an amber glow across the skatepark, in which they were the only ones left. Alex felt like he was finally at peace, with himself and with Willie.

He pulled back and rested his forehead against Willie’s. “I’m lucky to have you too. I can’t even begin to understand what good luck brought you to me.”

Willie moved back slightly, shuffled further away until he was only holding Alex’s hands, until that was the only point where they touched. Alex missed his warmth.

“Sorry,” Willie giggled, smile bright. “I wanted to be able to look you in the eyes for this.”

“For what?” Alex asked.

Willie’s smile softened. “I love you, Alex. And I’m pretty sure I always will.”

Alex’s heart stopped. It was the first time he’d ever heard those words out loud. Sure, he had felt them in every little action from Willie in all the time they’d been together – he had felt his love in the way he cared for him when he was sick, in the way he bundled himself up in Alex’s hoodies, in the way he played with Alex’s hair, in the way he brought him back from the edge when he was anxious, in the way he devoted every part of himself to Alex.

He had loved Willie in return too, in the little ways – how he listened to Willie talk about skating and watched him practise, how he brushed and braided Willie’s hair to relax them both, how he danced with Willie whenever he wanted because he simply couldn’t say no, how he wrote songs that only Willie would ever hear, how he listened to Willie talk nonsense in his sleep on those nights they slept at the studio together.

But he too had never said the words out loud.

He pulled Willie in for another kiss, brief but burning, and then held his hands again. Willie was right – this was something Alex wanted to look in his eyes for.

“I love you, too, Willie. I’ll never stop.”

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gh0stiegirlie · 4 years

Text

synopsis: all it took was one glance at the hotheaded boy at the U.A. exam, and you were smitten. for deku, it was a single act of kindness that instigated his immediate attraction to uraraka. several months into school, best friends y/n and deku are left heartbroken when. uraraka and bakugou start a relationship. when you and deku find yourselves confiding in each other, a question arises; is this love, or loneliness? are you two better just as friends?

length: 3.5k words

pt. 2 ->

a/n: that moment when you start a new bakugou series in the middle of another bakugou series 🤡 I hope you enjoy the result of procrastinating on my other story and writing a little too much.

It all started the day of U.A.’s practical exam.

You were pushing your fingers down on every tender joint you could pop, loosening your body as much as possible for the physically strenuous activity ahead. When you bent over into the downward dog position, through your legs disheveled blond hair caught your eye. His hair was so spiky if you pricked your finger on a strand, it would draw blood. You stretched out your back before crawling your arms up your body until you were standing, then turned to examine the boy.

It looked like someone had glued a golden porcupine on his head, a hairstyle that on the majority would look hideous. But the way his bouncing spikes threatened to poke anyone who came too close as he stomped around, made it suit him. When you lowered your eyes to the rest of his body, that was when you discovered this pomeranian boy was not only super hot, but super fit. His tight black tank top hugged his upper body, and his shoulders and biceps alone were so bulky it looked like the straps may snap. Along with that, the flimsy top did nothing to hide his abs from the imagination. He had developed muscles in places you never knew muscles existed.

As you were not-so-subtly checking this guy out while pretending to stretch, another contender approached the boy. She was stereotypically hot, with full features and an unattainable sinched waist. A flare of jealousy hit you like a wave of heat, and you nearly used your quirk to warn the girl to back the fuck off. This feeling immediately dissipated when he aimed his hand at the girl and dismissed her... with a fucking explosion. Within seconds, she was in a dazed heap on the other side of the warm-up room with some minor burns. The whole room fell silent, turning to the boy with petrified expressions. He nonchalantly shoved his hand in his pocket, leaned on one leg, and clenched his jaw. Although his posture was shit and his pants were sagging, you could tell he wasn’t a fool.

“Now, if any of you other extra’s feel like messing with me,” his vermillion scanned the crowd for someone attentive and vulnerable, and they eventually fixed on you with a smirk, “don’t.”

He made your knees weak with one word.

That’s when you started falling.

When you discovered you were in the same class as Bakugou, you were ecstatic. Back then, your crush was a minuscule weed in your garden. It sat among the fully grown flowers of your aspirations, completely harmless.

You’re now halfway through your first semester at U.A., and your crush on Bakugou has fully blossomed. Whether it’s grown into the weed or a rose, you’re unsure. All you know is your love weed is now the size of a goddamn oak tree, and for it to grow to this extent, it has pushed the rest of your garden out of the way.

You spend half of your Math class stealing subtle glances at Bakugou, watching him repeat the teachers' lessons to himself in hushed mumbles as he writes down every word in his notebook. He has a habit of vehemently taking notes to the point of dulling out his pencil, groaning when he has to shove it into his pencil sharpener (he used to use the schools, but he grew too irritated of leaving his seat every few minutes), only for his poor pencil to require another sharpening moments later. Following Math is English, and during this class you enjoy gazing out the windows to daydream. Your English classroom was built with large oblong windows that stretch from the floor to the ceiling to reveal the grand U.A. courtyard below and you tend to use it to study the upperclassmen. You watch the class of 2-A enjoy their lunch hour as they walk, eat, and hold hands around campus. Sometimes you imagine them as you and Bakugou. You think about holding his hand while dancing around the cherry trees, eating lunch with him and his ‘Bakusquad’ and much, much more.

Love is a strong word, and you’re hesitant to label your feelings accordingly. But damn, are your feelings strong for this boy.

Deku can say the same about Uraraka. He literally fell for her on the way to the practical exam. And even though she caught him, he’s continued falling ever since.

Everytime Uraraka spars during training, Deku gives her his undivided attention. Not because he’s a perv or anything-- he just admires her so much. Her quirk requires her resourceful and thoughtful, so she always has a brilliant plan up her sleeve. His favorite part about her battles is the way she smiles when she knows she’s won. It’s never a smile of egotistical pride; It’s a smile that displays she’s satisfied with herself. That she acknowledges she’s victorious, not because “she’s the best”, but because she worked for it. He can never hold back from beaming himself. When someone that cute smiles, how can you resist?

But, there is a difference between you two. Deku holds the advantage of being friends with Uraraka; You simply adore Bakugou from a distance, while everyone else hates him from that distance.

Until one day, Aizawa mentions the first-semester partner project. You already know Izuku is going to choose Uraraka, and you know Iiada wouldn't be caught dead partnering with you (even though the class calls you the 'golden girl', you're still a bit too 'rebellious' for his taste.) From the way Kaminarai and Kirishima smirk at eachother, you're pleased to see they're going to pair up, because this leaves Bakugou with no partner. A spot you would love to fill.

After class you don't rush to make it to Bakugou, knowing no one else wants to be his partner after what happened between him and Kirishima (Lots of Bakugou yelling how “shitty hair is an idiot!” and using textbooks as a weapon to smack Kirishima’s head). But you wouldn't mind. You would be happy just to be his idiot.

You're snapped out of your daydreams when Uraraka spontaneously approaches Bakugou. You smirk and lean against your desk, expecting a hilarious interaction that starts with a heated “GET AWAY FROM ME WEIRD GIRL!!” and ends with a very large explosion. I mean, at the sports festival, not only could he not connect her name with her face, he had absolutely no fucking clue who she was! But instead of blowing her away in a fit of rage, as he did with that girl so many months ago, they talk.

You and Deku never discussed your feelings for those two with each other, but you acknowledged them. You being his closest friend, it’s clear as fucking day that Deku is head over heels for Uraraka. And being your best friend, it’s obvious to Deku that you want to smash faces with the class hothead.

So, naturally, as the two of you watch this interaction unfold, there’s a mutual feeling of disgust. An unspoken what the fuck?! is exchanged between your eyes, until Deku’s lip quivers and he quickly looks away while you glare daggers into Uraraka’s stupidly hot body. After a few infuriating minutes, it’s grossly clear their conversation isn’t concluding anytime soon. You’re repulsed as you ask Deku to be your partner, to which he responds with a meek head nod. You sigh and hug the poor boy. Surprisingly Deku doesn’t start crying blood when you, a girl, touches him. Instead, he nuzzles his head deep into your neck, as by now he’s comfortable with your friendship.

"Hey, do you wanna go out for ice cream?" you ask when you pull away. You nudge him with your elbow. "I'll pay!"

Izuku blinks away his tears as he agrees, desperately trying to block the waterworks from leaking.

"Cmon, Zuzu." you coo, exiting the classroom. Before you and Izuku head to the dining hall, you shoot a quick glare at Uraraka, who is purposely shoving her tits out in Bakugou's face as she laughs at whatever he just said. At least you know he's better than to fall for that... Hopefully.

"One Yukimi Daifuku and one chocolate Sofuto Kurimu, please," you ask the cafe cashier. She mumbles the amount you owe, and you shuffle your hand around the change in your pocket before handing her a few dollars.

When you bring Izuku his icecream, he lifts his head off the table. He plays around with his food for a while before sloppily shoving a scoop in his mouth. You moan when you take your first bite.

"I swear, this ice cream is top tier!" you boom in enthusiasm. "Like, seriously, who allowed cafeteria food to be this good?!"

A short chuckle escapes Izuku's frowning lips. "That's U.A. for ya. The food somehow gets better every day."

"I know, right!" You use your spoon to point at Izuku's Yukimi Daifuku. "I feel like they handpicked that rice in your Yukimi from U.A.'s personal rice fields." you joke, which finally breaks Izuku's drab demeanor. He lets out a genuine laugh.

"I don't think U.A. has it's own rice fields." he rationalizes. The knot in his stomach loosens every time you make him laugh, allowing his appetite to grow. He takes a few eager bites of his Yukimi Daifuku. You playfully punch Izuku's shoulder.

"Really? This place is so fucking big I wouldn't be surprised if it had its own strip club or someth-MFF!" Izuku cuts you off by slapping a hand over your mouth. He pulls it back to his and signs "shh".

"Y-Y/n! Be quiet!" he warns, his face dark red from stifling his laughter.

"What?! You don't want to think about All Might gettin--" you stop here, because Izuku has buried his face in his hands in order to ignore you. You laugh. "Okay, okay Deku. I'll stop." You ruffle his hair platonically.

"Thanks. I was afraid I was going to throw up my Yukimi if you kept going." he expresses, to which you laugh again. There's a fleeting pause as the two of you take a moment to appreciate each other's presence. Maybe all you really need is each other.

Maybe, as long as you're just friends, everything will be okay.

"Thanks, Y/n. I needed this." Izuku smiles, and you can't help but smile with him.

One week later, the project is due and the weird partnership between Uraraka and Bakugou remains unmentioned between the three of you and Iiada. You’ve wanted to discuss it with her, but Izuku keeps holding you back. So the four of you engage in breakfast per usual; laughing, talking, and stuffing your faces. By this time, you assume Uraraka has forgotten about her little stunt. But it remains at the forefront of your mind, because what the fuck?!

Deku believes it to be a momentary lapse in judgment, but you know girls better than that. She had been plotting that move for a while. Uraraka probably spent weeks building up her self-esteem enough to talk to him, and then another few days encouraging herself to actually do it.

So, when Uraraka skips over to Bakugou that day, you’re not surprised. But, what she does next shocks you.

Uraraka kisses Baugous cheek.

You wait expectantly for Bakugou to send her flying out a window. Instead, he smirks and wraps his burly arm around her thin waist. Her waist is so thin, his arm fits around it like a bracelet. How can you even compete with that?!

And then, they walk out of the classroom. Just like that. Like a fucking couple.

That’s when the world crumbles around you.

Friday nights are always the days you and Bakugou attend the gym at the same time. Normally, his presence is a positive motivation to work harder, knowing he can look over at you at any moment.

Tonight, you bury your eyes into the back of his head and pretend he's the punching bag. You restrain yourself from using your quirk to explode his brain (you actually can’t do that, but still), as if he even has one. If he’s dating Uraraka, he must not. You understand she’s cute or whatever, but they’re so fucking different.

Apparently, this past hour you were hitting the punching bag vigorously enough in precisely the right places for it to tear. Sand pours onto your feet, and that's when you decide to call it night.

You manage bottle most of your emotions until you’re alone in your room. That’s when you shut off your lights, put on your sad vibes playlist, shelter yourself in fleece blankets and let the tears flow. Your shaking shoulders churn your stomach, and it feels like you’re vomiting out your emotions. Your heart stings with every beat, and every sob irritates your raw throat. You're not just another teenage girl crying over a stupid boy. You've grown up putting all your energy into improving your quirk, always two steps ahead of the rest of your class’ mentality. When you first saw Bakugou, you saw someone whos grown up always giving everything his all. You saw someone like you, and you fixated on something that wasn't just being a hero.

At this point you've been fighting for Bakugou for so long, he's grown beyond a dumb crush. Now that you've lost this battle, you realize how alone you feel. He’s a motivation. Not only do you train hard to improve your quirk, but you train hard to surprise Bakugou with your strength. You don't just study for good marks, but to impress Bakugou.

Your goal to be a hero has always occupied your whole heart, but Bakugou managed to slip in there somewhere.

And you can feel the hollowness of his gaping hole.

Eventually, you compose yourself enough to grab some Suppa-Mucho Premium Ponzu, a jar of Nutella (with a spoon to eat it out of, of course), and a cup of hot chocolate from the kitchen.

On the way back to your room, you hear sobs emitting from a nearby hall. As you follow the twists and turns of the dorm, the cry grows familiar. You soon find yourself standing outside Izuku Midoriyas' room. You quickly (but carefully) run to the kitchen to microwave another cup of hot chocolate before knocking on his bedroom door.

“Duh-Don’t come in!” his voice is nasally, but he lowers it an octave to sound like his usually preppy self. Although hero-training teaches you students how to put on an emotional mask, you’re able to tell when your best friend is faking.

“It’s me, Izuku.”

“Come in,” his raspy reply is barely above a whisper.

You jiggle the door handle open with your elbow and find Izuku wrapped in a blanket of feelings, like you were earlier. He wipes the tears off his cheeks and rubs his eyes, burying his head deep into the blanket to hide his sadness. Though his loud, shaky breaths give away the fact he was crying. Like you couldn’t hear him from across the dorms.

“Hey. It’s okay, Zuzu.” You’re standing behind the door, presenting snacks and two drinks with a somber smile. “I’m here.”

Izuku lifts his head when he smells the steaming hot cocoa. He grabs the drink that has whip cream with tiny marshmallows and flakes of caramel sprinkled on top, just the way he likes it. You set down the snacks on a nearby coffee table, then drink your hot chocolate beside him. When a sip leaves a small white mustache above his upper lip, you can’t help but giggle. He does the same.

You don’t ask why he was crying, and he doesn’t ask why you were walking around with comfort food late at night. Instead, you enjoy each other’s company. The events of earlier today have made you realize that things will always be the way they’ve been since the start of this year. That you’ll only ever have each other.

And maybe that’s why what happens next… Happens.

You are wrapped up in a blanket next to Izuku watching Whisper of the Heart and munching on a bowl of chips. Like some sort of cliche, the two of you reach for a chip at the same time. Izuku immediately pulls away, an incoherent apology spilling from his lips. You ignore it, overwhelmed with a sudden bubble of emotion. It was only extreme for a brief moment, but the remnants of the feeling linger. The electricity he transferred to you keeps your fingers twitching as you grab a snack. So now you’re pondering over the feeling while nibbling on a chip;

How come, when Izukus hand brushed against yours, you felt something?

Everytime you’re near Bakugou, your heart palpitates. Not only out of fear-- because the man is fucking terrifying --but of recognition of his power. Out of admiration of his intimidating, yet confident personality.

When you touched Izuku’s hand, your heart fluttered. A cocoon of butterflies erupted in your chest and tried to lift you off his bed-- but why?

Was it because now that Bakugous out of the way, your true scandalous feelings for your best friend are no long eclipsed? Or is it because now that Bakugou is out of the way your brain needs a new hot boy with biceps to focus on?

Izuku questions the same thing himself. If you took a second to look, the light of the TV would reveal the blush on his cheeks. His hands tremble in his lap as he hopelessly attempts to cover the growing boner in his pants, a side effect of thinking about you in this new romantic light.

All this time, has he been love with you, not Uraraka? Or has her sudden abandonment left a vacancy that needs filling, so he’s turning to his best friend?

You move the bowl and scoot next to Deku. Your body heats up as his tenses.

“Hey, do you wanna share a blanket?” You ask, forcing yourself to sound as casual as possible. Even though trying to flirt with your best friend is way out of your comfort zone.

“Uh--sure!” Deku squeaks as he wraps his blanket around your shoulders and you throw your fleece over your laps. You arrange yourself so the side of your thighs press up against Deku’s, and rest your head on his shoulder

He sweats nervously, and smells of bergamot and… Fresh laundry. It’s pleasant, though not as hypnotizing as Bakugous sweet caramel. Bakugous scent leaves you hungry for him, while Deku makes you feel… Comforted. Like receiving a warm hug from a friend. A completely non-romantic friend. A platonic friend. What the fuck are you doing?!

You repeat the words “platonic” and “friend” in your mind to remind yourself what Deku is to you. But the longer your bodies touch, the anstier you grow to touch more. Just to see what it feels like.

Yes, Zuzu has been your friend forever-- Doesn’t that the experience of dating him even better? Doesn’t that make you want to steal his first kiss, so he’ll forever hold you in his heart? Doesn’t that make feeling his body shudder from pleasure under yours even hotter?

You bite your lips at these thoughts, unaware Izuku is imagining the same. His face is practically the color of a strawberry-- his green hair really bringing the image all together.

You turn to one another in unison, searching for the answer in each other’s eyes; Is this love? Or is this emptiness? You and Deku silently struggle to figure out an explanation, though it doesn’t matter.

Because you kiss anyway.

As soon as you make contact, those sparks that frazzled you earlier return. When you push your mouth harder against his, they dazzle you.

Izukus lips are thin, but creamy. He’s the kind of guy who carries chapstick with him everywhere, and apparently his favorite flavor is vanilla, because when you run your tongue along his lip it tastes like ice cream. He whimpers at the feeling, and you take advantage of how sensitive he is. When you bite his lip he moans into your mouth and pulls you closer.

Kissing Midoriya is as gratifying as it is dissatisfying. Kissing someone so desperate-- so needy, for you, is empowering. It fills your Bakugou-sized hole with pleasure. But, his kiss is also cold and lifeless. The only emotion that fuels it is rejection. Behind this kiss, and behind your lips, is loneliness. You’re both anxious and uncertain, so you’re kissing what’s comfortable. And you keep kissing to replace these problematic feelings with something exciting.

Soon, your kisses become hollow. The sparkes evaporate. Izukus lips aren’t as delicious as they seemed when you first started, and the way you nibble on his lip begins to sting.

You slow to a mutual halt, deciding to bask in eachothers warmth through cuddles instead of kisses. Even though Izuku’s body is alive with the heat of your kiss, he feels cold.

You return to the movie, but the kiss leaves another question lingering in the air.

You’re best friends.

What does this mean?

Something has shifted between you two, and you can’t tell if its for the better or the worst.

221 notes · View notes

duhragonball · 3 years

Note

Chi-Chi

I think I’m gonna wrap these up today so I can get back to work on my fanfic. For the record, I got Buu, Frieza, Jolyne Kujo, Father Pucci, and Jobin Higashikata left to go, and then I’m done.

But I hate to call it here, because this has been fun. Maybe I’ll bring this back some time.

Give me a character and I will answer:

Why I like them: I started watching DBZ back in the fall of 1998, and I didn’t get very serious about it until 2000. Chi-Chi didn’t have a very big role in the Saiyans or Frieza arcs, and I wasn’t making a point of watching every episode, so it took a while for her character to be fully revealed. Starting out, she was basically popping in every so often to remind us that she wanted Gohan to study. She stood up to Garlic’s henchmen in Movie 1, but didn’t really get a chance to do anything. In the Garlic Junior Saga, it’s stated that Chi-Chi is the strongest woman in the world, which sounds pretty impressive as long as you don’t think too hard about how many women are on the show.

I don’t think I really understood Chi-Chi well until I got to the part where Goten spars with Gohan, and he reveals that Chi-Chi had been training him while Gohan was studying. That was where it became clear to me that she only emphasized book-learnin’ over ass-whoopin’ because she knew Goku had that side of things covered. With Goten, Chi-Chi had to be both mother and father to him, and she didn’t shirk from that.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that Chi-Chi’s a great supporting character. She maintains a presence in the story whether she’s on-screen or not, and you learn about her gradually through these short appearances. And when she does show up, it’s just a treat to see. She’s always got something to say, and she’s cute and she can beat your ass. What’s not to like?

Why I don’t: Yeah right. Look, the biggest gripe people have with Chi-Chi is that she makes her son do homework, which is dumb. She explains this a number of times: There’s more to life than fighting, and she wants that for her son. And Gohan’s not exactly worse off for her style of parenting.

I think the disconnect here is that people watch this show and they want to see Goku and Gohan screw around and go on adventures, and they feel like Chi-Chi is here to kill their buzz. I guess it’d be like watching a football game, and every so often some guy wanders out onto the field and scolds everyone for playing football. But that guy would be right, because football is dangerous, yo. Everybody keeps telling Chi-Chi that the only hope for the world involves her little boy getting his ass kicked by aliens, and she’s like “no, that’s bullshit,” and she’s absolutely right. She’s a saint for tolerating it as much as she does, but I think a lot of fans refuse to look at it from her point of view. They just want the fighting.

I remember Lanipator observing that he used to hate Mr. Satan when he was younger, but the older he got, the more and more he appreciated the character. I can’t relate to that, because I was old enough to drink when I started watching this show, so for me, there is no “when I was a kid” perspective on Dragon Ball. I thought Mr. Satan was awesome from the start, and I never had much of a problem with Chi-Chi either.

They did tend to overexpose both characters in the anime, cutting to them when they needed a filler moment to pad out an episode or five. So maybe that’s got something to do with it. But that’s not the fault of the characters. But yeah, if I was watching the Cell Games at age 10 I’d probably get really sick of them constantly cutting to Mr. Satan or Chi-Chi for analysis.

Favorite episode (scene if movie): It’s probably hard to top the one where she fought Goku. That was one of the last Chi-Chi moments I got to see, because I didn’t get caught up on OG Dragon Ball until 2004. It’s an excellent use of the character and her lengthy absence from the show. By the time she reappears, no one recognizes her, and she’s upset about being forgotten.

Favorite season/movie: I think I’d have to go with the Buu Saga, on the grounds that she got more time to shine, mainly due to so many other characters being unavailable. It was a real roller coaster ride for her too. Her husband’s dead and she’s raising two kids on her own, then he comes back, then he leaves again, and maybe Gohan’s dead too, and now Goten has to fight, and then she’s dead, and then they’re all back together in the end. Wild.

Favorite line: In the Cell Games Saga, there’s a TV show where Mr. Satan drags three buses onto the set, cuts a scathing promo on Cell, and then punches one of the buses to put an exclamation point on the whole thing. Wait, I take it back, I’m pretty sure 10yo me would have loved Mr. Satan.

Anyway the live audience is marking the fuck out for Mr. Satan, but at Kame House Yamcha and Krillin are unimpressed, because they punch holes in like fifty buses every morning as a warm-up. But in the dub of that episode, Roshi remarks that Mr. Satan’s theatrics are “sad”, and Chi-Chi goes “It sure is. Somebody could have used that bus.” Classic, total classic.

Favorite outfit: It’s hard to pick, honestly. I like the Buu Saga yellow, but I prefer the way her hair looked in the Saiyans Saga. And that outfit she wore near the end of DBZ was pretty great too.

OTP: Goku. come on.

Brotp: I think Bulma sort of stepped into that role after Trunks was born, but Chi-Chi seems like a loner to me. She basically rolled in, got Goku to marry her, and then retreated deep into the mountains to interact with as few people as possible. I need me a freak like that.

Head Canon: I think she’s genuinely proud of Goku and the boys being so great at super-karate-laser wars. She doesn’t talk about it much, because there’s plenty of other people to congratulate them on that sort of thing, and I think they sort of look to her for as someone who grounds their family.

To put it another way, I don’t think Goku wants Chi-Chi to talk a lot about the androids or the Saiyans or whatever. I think he wants someone to bother him with household matters and chores and ordinary stuff. And Gohan and Goten just want a regular mom to balance out their alien monomyth dad. And she plays that role well, because that’s who she is. But she’s still proud of them for saving the world and so forth.

Unpopular opinion: Chi-Chi was right.

Look, how was Gohan going to make a life for himself as a fighter, in a world where Goku and Vegeta have that market cornered?

Where’s he live? In a big-ass mansion. Why? Because he married a rich man’s daughter. Where’d he meet her? In the school Chi-Chi made him go to. How’d he get in to said school? He aced their entrance exams. How’d he do that? Chi-Chi made him study.

What does Goku do all day when he isn’t training? He drives a tractor? Why? Because his wife has a thing for farmer aesthetics. Why does he just do whatever his wife tells him? Because he didn’t study.

A wish: I wish all the Chi-Chi haters would stay out of my soup, because it’s salty enough as it is. (Heyoooo!)

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: I’ve been seeing Manalorian spoilers lately, and I don’t want to give anything away, but it seems like every time something happens on Mando, all the chuds come out of the woodwork to complain about Episode VIII and/or IX. They’re like “thank you, Disney, for giving us the [Star Wars thing] that Disney refused to give us.”

My fear is that Star Wars has become balkanized into this thing where people praise half of it as fixing or undoing the damage caused by the other half. Used to be, people would either like the Ewoks or hate them, but they couldn’t ignore the fact that they were there. Now it’s like any movie that doesn’t feature Ewoks is done to cater to the anti-Ewok crowd, and any movie that does is solely for the purpose of keeping the pro-Ewok side engaged.

My point is that I worry that this will happen to all media franchises, and Dragon Ball Q will feature a Chi-Chi that gets turned into a hateful she-hag to satisfy the haters, and then Ultra Dragon Ball Deluxe will feature a more nuanced version of Chi-Chi as a make-good, thereby pissing off the haters. And they’ll go back and forth trying to please everyone while the character ends up becoming an incomprehensible mess from it.

5 words to best describe them: Adorable tiger mom/bus advocate.

My nickname for them: Cheech.

#ask duhragonball #dragon ball #chi chi #Anonymous

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martiestudies · 3 years

Note

Academic asks: 2, 4, 6, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 15, 22, 24, 25, 30, 32, 35, 40, 42, 46, 50. that's so many I'm so sorry but they're such cool questions that I wanna hear the answers too! of you don't wanna do that many you can just cut out a few (or more than a few!)

omg don’t apologize i looooove answering these kind of things

2. what’s your major?

ngl i still don’t get the college system they use in the usa lmao but i’m studying to become a chemical engineering!! it’s uhhhh 5 years but absolutely no one graduates in that time so..............

4. do you think you picked the right major?

yes!!! the pandemic unmotivated me a lot and i questioned very hard if i wanted to do this but i always ended up at the same answer: i really love what i’m studying and i wouldn’t change it

6. career goals?

uhhhh i don’t think i have many tbh because i’m trying to focus on short term goals? but. graduating with a good average and find work quickly in an interesting field, hopefully researching. OH and i want to study abroad too like do one of those exchanging(?) programs

8. what classes are you taking right now?

just two! because i fell a little behind last year so i’m slowly catching up (most of my classes are correlatives so). this semester i’m taking math-B and general chemistry.

9. favourite class out of everything you’ve ever taken and why?

hands down the physical-chemistry one on my second year of high school because it’s the one that made me fell in love with science

10. least favourite class ever and why?

i don’t think i’ve ever had a class i hated? if i did it was because of the professors, not the subject. the one that comes to mind is my 4th year’s technical mechanics class because it was basically applied physics (WHICH I LOVE) but the professor was the worst person i’ve ever met and i still have mild trauma bc of it

12. current least favourite class and why?

out of the ones i’m taking? math lol but because i love chem with burning passion and my math class can be kinda boring sometimes. i still like it tho

15. class you’ve always wanted to take but never had the chance?

languages’ classes like i wanna study italian properly and maybe german and recently i really really really want to do a korean curse. also an astronomy/astrophysics class !!!! the german and astro ones are actually offered as classes for my degree’s credits but i haven’t taken them yet.

22. what’s your preferred writing implement?

i love this question lol my mechanical pencil with 0.5 B2 mines is my bestie and also i like to use filgo lighter fines for writing anything and everything

24. describe your perfect study environment

i think the one i’ve been lately it’s ideal? it’s quiet because i’m in my apartment alone and i have really good natural lightning and my kitchen like 2 meters away so i can spend the day drinking teas. i could do with a bigger table though lmao

25. are you procrastinating right now?

absolutely yes

32. describe your favourite teacher/professor and why you like them

OHHHH MY PHYSCHEM HIGH SCHOOL PROFESSOR!!!!!!!!!!!! he’s one of the best teachers ever and he motivated me (and still do kinda) to be the best student and person i can be. he teaches other classes too in my high school so i’ve had the pleasure to have a few other classes with him and i absolutely ADORE him tbh all my love for science is thanks to him and his classes

35. most profound thing ever said to you by a teacher/professor?

something that stuck with me is how the prof i mentioned before always made a point of letting his students know that EVERYONE has the capacity to learn things and be smart we just don’t have to give up

40. write the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog and post a photo

42. a lot of notes or the bare minimum?

i always do a L O T of notes for everything so i’m trying to tone that down but yeah i prefer to have a lot instead of not enough

46. do you have pre test rituals and what are they?

uhhhh i never review/study the day of an exam. my last revision is always the night before so that day i can keep a clear head and that’s always worked for me.

also,,, lately i’ve been lowkey praying to a religious card (? like estampita) of kim seokjin from bts (aka San Jin) made as a not-really-a-joke from a store here in argentina. it’s really cute. and if you’re an army you just KNOW seokjin radiates good luck (also i’ve never failed an exam since i started doing that so)

50. what’s something more important to you than school?

oh a lot of things !! i don’t think school is the most important thing in my life by far even though i do think it’s really important. i’m gonna say, for example, my cat

woooo this has been fun :)

ask me something!!

#answered #long post #filgo pls im BEGGING you to sponsor me i would literally sell my soul for you #they released 12 new colors and im DYING to get them

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musicprincess1990 · 4 years

Text

Questions About Sherlolly

I was tagged, several days ago (sorry), by @mychakk, and... well, I had a bit too much fun with this. A few of them ran off and dragged me with them, so... yeah, these are more ficlets than headcanons.

Also, I want to tag @writingwife-83, @kietzemaze, @thisisartbylexie, @lilsherlockian1975, and @hobbitsdoitbetter. 😘

1. Coffee shop AU: Who is the barista, and who frequents the coffee shop?

This one always gives me Uni!lock vibes. Molly is the fresh-faced, ever cheerful barista, and Sherlock is the customer. He starts off barely paying attention to his surroundings as he gets his coffee. The first time she sees him, Molly notices the bloodshot eyes and the dark circles beneath them, and being the brilliant pre-med student that she is, recognizes the symptoms immediately. The next time she makes his coffee she writes a little note on his cup: Life is too short to waste. You could do something brilliant with yours.

Sherlock appears the next day, eyes scanning each barista, until he sees the mousy girl with brown hair and a look of recognition on her face. He seems angry, and he demands to know what her “little note” was about. Shyly, but still firmly, she says, “I think you know, or you wouldn’t be here. And I meant what I said. You could be brilliant.”

“I am brilliant.” And then he deduces her. Harshly.

She just stares at him, tears forming, but she doesn’t slap him or run off. Instead, she whispers. “You are brilliant… but think how much more you’d be able to see if you stopped clouding your brain.” This completely shakes him, and he leaves that day without coffee.

She doesn’t see him again for months, and when he comes back, he looks so much better. Dark circles gone, eyes bright and clear, and a healthy tinge of pink to his skin. He walks directly over to her and orders his coffee—“Black, two sugars, please”—and says nothing more. But Molly grins at the gratitude in his eyes, and in the use of the word please. She hands him his cup, with another little note: Told you so, with a smiley face. He meets her eyes, gives her the faintest smile, and says, “Thank you, Molly.”

He ends up coming in every day after that, and… well, you can guess the rest.

2. High school/College AU: Who is the straight-A student, and who’s the back row slacker?

Pfft, this one is obvious. Molly is the hardworking med student, Sherlock slacks off because school is too easy, and too dull, to bother with. But his parents refuse to give him any of the money they’ve set aside for him until he earns a degree, and finds something to do with his life. So he shows up to class, turns in the assignments, and gets the best grades in the class… until Molly shows up.

In advanced chemistry, she beats him by one point. But rather than being annoyed that she did better than him (because really, he wasn’t even trying), he’s intrigued. She doesn’t look like the kind of girl who would be suited for the sciences. She’s all smiles and colorful clothes and quirky habits. He starts watching her during class, her careful note-taking, her rapt interest in the subject matter. He deduces things about her – her father’s death, her mother’s disdain for her field of study, her older brother’s protectiveness, her love for animals, her tendency to trust people too easily – and his interest is piqued even more.

Soon he starts noticing other things about her. The faint hints of red in her hair when the sunlight catches them. The way she gnaws on her bottom lip when she’s thinking deeply. The absent twirling of a strand of hair when she’s bored. She chews gum on the days she hasn’t eaten breakfast, overly worried about her breath. Her hair is usually pulled into a hasty ponytail, but she leaves it down when she has a date. (He ignores the twisting in his gut when he makes that deduction.)

One day, she happens to look back at him, and oh, he tries not to catalogue the exact shade of pink her face turns as she blushes. And suddenly, he realizes he’s in over his head. He tries not to look at her, but she’s like a magnet. And now she keeps looking back at him, and he can see the curve of her small, pink mouth, the light dusting of freckles on her nose, the twinkle in those bottomless brown eyes.

He finally gives in and asks her out on the last day of term. She beams up at him and says, “It’s about bloody time!”

3. Rivals to lovers AU: Who takes their rivalry seriously, and who is half in it just to push the other’s buttons?

I guess I need to write more Uni!lock, because that's what comes to mind yet again! This time, when Molly gets better marks than Sherlock on an exam, he is OUTRAGED. He sulks and pointedly ignores her, until they get paired together for a project.

Molly is shy at first, and apologetic even when she hasn't done anything wrong. He finds it annoying, and tells her as much. She gets mad at him and calls him out for being so horrible to her when he's the one who didn't put in enough effort for the exam.

For reasons neither of them understand, he kisses her. And she slaps him. Then she kisses him back.

After that, she becomes much more confident. She challenges him more than any of his classmates, past or present. Also, she's absolutely adorable when she's cross with him. He begins to think this won't be such a bad arrangement after all.

4. Enemies to lovers AU: Which one switches sides?

Ooh, I'm thinking Revolutionary War. Molly is a nurse in the Colonies, Sherlock is a reluctant red-coat. He gets badly injured in a skirmish, and is one of only four survivors in his regiment. The other three ran before they could be captured, leaving him for dead. And who is the lucky nurse charged with his care? You guessed it!

Molly surprises him by being kind to him, even when he takes pains to belittle and insult her. He flat out asks her one day, why she's being so kind to him, when he's her enemy?

"I do not have any enemies," she replies calmly, tending to the dressings over his wound. "And as of yet, you have done nothing that would cause me to think of you as one."

"Perhaps I will," he counters, "once I am able to stand and find my musket."

She laughs at that. "I did not take you for the sort of man who would care about his own pain when confronting an enemy. If you truly wished us all dead, we would be." Her smiling eyes meet his. "And yet, here we are."

And HOLY SHIT I NEED TO KEEP WRITING THIS.

5. Soulmate AU: Who is eager to meet their soulmate? Who absolutely does not want to meet their soulmate?

Molly loves the idea of having a soulmate, and can’t wait to fall in love with whoever hers may be. She’s a little wary of the timing, however, because she wants to have a career, and worries her soulmate will want to get married immediately and start making babies. Sherlock, on the other hand, resents the little mark on his left shoulder, is determined to make his “soulmate” hate him the moment he meets her, so she won’t want him to marry her and start making babies.

Of course, things don’t go as planned. They meet on Molly’s first day at Bart’s, but they don’t figure out that they're soulmates until much later. When he fakes his death, and Molly has to do his autopsy, that’s when she sees the mark, identical to hers. She’s not surprised, because she’s already in love with him, but she knows his feelings on that subject, so she pretends it means nothing to her.

Then the phone call happens. Oh, the phone call! Sherlock turns up at her flat that night while she’s showering, and she doesn’t hear him pick her lock. He waits in her bedroom, and she comes in, wrapped only in a towel. She screams, only just hanging on to that towel, and then he sees it. He jumps up and turns her to get a better look at it. It'so mistaking it, that’s definitely the same mark. Which means… when she saw his, after he “died,” she knew… and didn’t say anything.

“Why?” he asks on a whisper.

“Because you don’t want it.”

He meets her eyes and says, “I didn’t. Not until you.”

....Fuck, I need to write this one, too.

6. Single parent AU: Which one is the single parent? (Alt. if they’re both single parents: Which one is open to starting a new relationship from the start? Which one is never planning on finding love again…Until they meet the other and are instantly smitten?)

Ooh, my favorite version of this has already been done, at least twice. Parent Trap AU!!! I recommend A Trap of Parental Proportions by 16magnolias, and also Brilliant Beyond Brilliant Idea by OccasionallyCreative. BOTH SO GOOD.

7. Doctor AU: Which one is the long-suffering doctor? Which one is the patient?

Um… this isn’t AU. This is canon. I totally believe Sherlock’s #2 reason for using Molly’s flat as a bolthole is because she patches him up. (#1 reason is because it's Molly, and she calms his mind. And he’ll never admit it, especially not to John, but he rather likes being the big spoon. 😉)

8. Bodyguard AU: Who is the bodyguard? Who are they protecting? Which one is secretly pining for the other?

Once again, this has been done already, masterfully so. I would like to direct you to The Queen’s Man, by @writingwife-83. It’s perfect. Also, MUTUAL PINING ALL THE WAY!!

9. Pirate AU: Who is the pirate? Who is the member of the royal family who did not sign up for this?

Again, obvious. Sherlock is the pirate. Molly is a royal, maybe a cousin of whichever historical monarch you think fits best (I say George III, because after #4, I'm digging the Revolutionary vibes). She gets kidnapped by the dastardly Captain Moriarty, who intends to kill her and frame his rival, Captain Holmes. Sherlock gets hired by his brother, who initially offers a great deal of money, which Sherlock declines. Then he offers freedom, for him to continue being a pirate without government interference. This, Sherlock accepts, and he sets off to rescue the royal damsel.

However, when he finds her, he discovers she is no damsel. She has won over Moriarty’s entire crew, and Moriarty has been marooned. He doubts his rival will stay on the little island they chose for very long. He tells her as much, and offers to help her bring him down, after which he will return her to London.

Of course, by the time they finish with Moriarty, they’ve fallen in love, and she has no desire to go back to her life of excess. Sherlock decides he much prefers the thrill of having to stay one step ahead of the government, and removing that challenge would spoil the fun.

Yep... gonna have to write this one, too.

10. Childhood best friends AU: Which one was super obviously in love with the other the whole time? Who was oblivious until they were older?

They were both madly in love, and it was obvious to everybody, except them. Neither of them knew how the other felt, and Molly only realized her own feelings when she was 12 or 13, somewhere around there. Sherlock took much longer, refusing to admit it until they were both adults. ALL THE MUTUAL PINING!!

Yep... these bear continued study and attention. I bet I can get a few one-shots out of them at least. 😊

#sherlolly #sherlolly questions #sherlolly headcanons #sherlolly ficlets #our ship sails on

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cherryeol04 · 4 years

Text

Tomorrow, Today

Words: 3k

Summary: You’re not entirely sure what you’re doing with your life. Thankfully, your visited by an angel who helps guide you.

‘You keep pushing me while my eyes are half-covered’

You pulled the earbuds outs as the last Bell of first period rang and you were once more trapped in your study period. You always thought it was strange to have a study period in first period, but it seemed better than the alternative; science, history or worst of all, math. It was a period you could use to catch up on the homework you failed to do the night before and get in a little bit of studying before the quiz you would inevitably have in your third period. That teacher swears that she only gives pop quizzes. But there's nothing ‘pop’ about having a quiz daily at the beginning of the class and most of the material was stuff you hadn't covered yet. She was crazy and you were absolutely sure of it.

Your eyes moved to the front as the teacher stood from his desk. As he rose so did everyone else and you reluctantly joined. Running through the same mundane morning routine that just seemed to suck the life out of you, you were finally allowed to sit back down. With the instructions the same as always “study”, you plug your earbuds in and open up your chemistry textbook, your notebook open and posed, just ready to be written in. You were honestly thankful that music was allowed in the class because utter silence for nearly an hour would just drive you absolutely crazy.

Your fingers flew over the screen of your iPod, unlocking it and pulling up your music. You wanted to make sure it was on repeat of your new, current favorite song. It was by a group called JJ Project, aptly named for the two members that made up this group, Park Jinyoung and Im Jaebum. They had the singing voices of angels and their new single, Tomorrow, Today, was absolutely your favorite song. While many people could probably argue with you (and most likely would, knowing those crazy fans) that they had better songs, even in their fully formed group Got7, you have never heard a better song in your life. Mainly because the lyrics struck something deep within you. Feelings and confusion that you thought only you suffered from.

‘Somebody let me know, Tell me which way to go, Cuz I don’t, don’t, don’t know’

It was your senior year of high school. At the end of the year marked a big transition in your life. You were expected to go to college, find a major that would eventually lead you into your career. A career that would fully support you and whatever family you would have in the future. All the while, also having a social life to go and meet some nice boy and settle down with and eventually marry. Not to mention you were also expected to take care of your parents as they got older in life, since they spent 18 years of their life caring for you. At least you didn’t have siblings, but sometimes you wished you did. Maybe if you did, all the pressures of life wouldn’t be on your shoulders. You could share the responsibilities. Of course you would probably still be the first born and expected to care for them and be their role model. But maybe that wouldn’t have been so bad. At least you would have someone to talk to about your fears and worries in life.

Sure you had your parents, but would they really understand? Maybe, but as it was, they see life as a never ending routine. Wake up, study, pass exams, go to college, get a good career, make a lot of money, come home, eat and do it all over again. A never ending cycle like a robot. Up, work, down. Over and over like a mindless zombie and that was honestly a scary future to think about. You had your friends, and yes they were all going through the same things you were going through. Studying, exams, searching for colleges. But your friends somehow still bested you. Two of them were in the top 3% of the school with their scores. Your best friend having tested out of high school a year before due to her high scores on placement exams and was already in college. Another friend in your group could care less because in less than four months, she was going to be married to her high school sweetheart (who was three years older than her). He already had a secure job working with his father, but was going to school to get a degree and climb the corporate ladder. She needed to do absolutely nothing; her life was set.

And then there was you. You struggled day to day to finish your homework. Not because you had a tough life at home, or had to work after school. But because you hated school. You found it not only a waste of time but it was also very challenging for you. You never saw the need to be competitive and strive to be the best. You had absolutely no idea what you wanted to do with your life. Of course your parents knew what they wanted you to do with your life. But you wanted to make those choices, you didn’t want them to be made for you. And you didn’t want to make the choices that you thought were right, only to look back and wonder what your life would have been if you chose a different path. Would it be different? Was this the right choice? Should you go this way, or that way?

It was confusing and stress inducing. And the only solace you could seek was within your music. That’s why this song was so meaningful to you. It was like these people were in your head and could hear your struggle. Their song was about this, the struggle of choosing the right path in life without fear and regret that they chose the wrong way to go. So blind as to which was the right path for them, how could they make the right choice or answer the questions that life threw at them when they didn’t even know the answers themselves.

It was like your theme song; your life song. Tomorrow, Today. Where would you be tomorrow? How could you possibly know when you’re still living today? How could you possibly see into the future?

A heavy sigh left you as you laid your head down on the desk, eyes closing. You let your mind wander as you lost yourself in the song. Darkness surrounded you with a warm, welcoming embrace and you found yourself falling deeper and deeper into it. A gentle touch and a soft call of your name was pulling you from the embrace. You didn’t want to go, but the voice sounded so sweet, so soft, you couldn’t help but be curious as to who was calling you.

Your eyes opened slowly and they were flooded with light. But not the harsh light of the classroom you had been in. But a soft, natural light, which was strange to you. A soft groan left you as your eyes adjusted to the light for a moment, the large tree overhead finally taking shape and you wondered, where it came from. The sound of birds chirping also caught your attention and you were slowly becoming aware of the fact that you were outside. How and when did that happen? You were just in the classroom...weren’t you?

“Y/N.” You tilt your head back towards the voice and the face of the mysterious person suddenly comes into view. You have seen many handsome men before in your life, but none as handsome as this man. Such fair skin, amazing hair, gorgeous eyes and such plush lips. You swore you’ve seen him before, but you weren’t sure where. You also could swear that this was a dream, because honestly, how did you go from inside a classroom to outside under a tree? But that thought soon dissipated as the male smiled at you, his eyes crinkling as he did so and you thought it was honestly the cutest thing in the world. How could this man go from handsome to adorable in less than five seconds?

“Hey, are you awake? You went to sleep.” Sleep? Yeah, you remember going to sleep. Frowning, you stared at him for a moment before sitting up and looking around. It was an open grassy field with a beautiful view of the city out in the horizon. The sun was shining brightly above, making you feel nice and hot, but the occasional breeze came through to cool you off, making you feel warm and cozy. Turning your body, you realize your head been resting in his lap and judging from the items around you, he had been reading? Maybe this was some sort of picnic? There was a basket on the other side of him. “What’s wrong?” he asked quickly, worry suddenly etched on his face.

“I…” you trailed off, eyes once more taking in your surroundings, trying to make sense of all of this confusion. How? When? Where and why? Looking back at him, you let out a soft yet confused laugh. “This is going to sound crazy but I don’t know where I am. Or how I got here. Or who you are.” The words tumbled right out of your mouth and it was like a light bulb was turned on in his mind. There was this strange look of understanding that crossed his features and he nodded slowly. This had to be a dream then. How could someone just seem to know? How could this guy just be so alright with what you said? You assume that you know him and you’re at least friends with him, if not something more. So how could he just be cool with the weird words that just left you? It’s not like you got hit in the head and went unconscious and now you have amnesia. Right?

“I get it.” he said and stood. He carefully placed his book in the basket and picked it up before holding out his hand, smiling once more at you. “Come with me.” he said. You were a little hesitant at first, to just take the hand of this random stranger, who was still so calm and collected about this whole thing! “Y/N, trust me.” Oh yeah, like you were simply going to just trust someone who told you to trust them. But something inside you told you to take his hand. So you did. Grasping it tightly, he pulled you up and just as suddenly as you found yourself in that field with him, your surroundings changed once more. Gone was the sunshine, the cool breeze and beautiful horizon. It was gloomy, overcast and you were standing at the end of a road. Before you were two signs, both arrows to let drivers know they could either go left or right. Two signs, one choice. Which way to go?

“I don’t get it.” you found yourself saying as you turned to stare at the male to your left, but he wasn’t there. Confused, you turned quickly to your right and he wasn’t there either. You turned in a circle, searching for the man that just been there, had just held your hand. But he was nowhere to be seen. You felt fear and panic start to set in. You were in a strange place, alone, with no guide to tell you what to do or how to get back. “Oh my god.” you whispered, hands moving to run through your hair as you exhaled slowly. Your eyes moved back to the signs and you slowly walked towards them. Looking to the left, you saw nothing but an empty road. Looking to the right, you saw the same thing. Two different paths, two different ways to go.

“How do I know which way is the right way?”

“Follow your heart.”

It was a soft voice, but you knew you had heard it before. It sounded exactly like the man that had just been with you. Now he was telling you to follow your heart? Well it was a little hard to do that when your mind kept coming up with scenarios of the worst case situation if you picked the wrong direction. How could you possibly pick and not know about the other way? You felt a soft, warm touch to your shoulder, the same you felt right before you had woken up. It was comforting and it silenced your brain long enough for your heart to take the lead and make your choice. Turning to the right, you stared at the road and nodded. This was the right path.

This was your path. You began walking with more confidence than you had ever felt before in your life. For once, you didn't feel lost. You didn't feel like every choice you made in your life was a mistake. You didn't feel like others were pushing you to make this choice. You made it this time. And it's the choice you were so proud to make.

As you walked down the road the skies grew darker and darker, but not once did you falter in your belief that this was the right choice. You kept walking until all that was around you faded to black and you were once more wrapped in the warm embrace of darkness.

“Y/N!”

Jolting awake, you looked around quickly as your earbuds fell from your ears. You stared up at your friend, her worried eyes scanning your face. “Are you alright? We're gonna be late for art class.” she said

Sitting up slowly, you looked around the familiar classroom and let out a sigh. A dream. It really had been just a dream. “Y/N?”

“Ah yeah. Sorry.” You said quickly and scrambled to grab your stuff and pack it in your bag. Standing, you smiled at her, before covering your mouth to stifle the loud yawn that left you. “Let's go.”

“If you say so, sleeping beauty. Have any good dreams?” she asked as she walked out of class with you.

“I wouldn't call it a good dream. But it as a dream.” You said with a shrug.

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

“Ah...maybe later? I'm still trying to understand it myself.” You told her with a chuckle. You both made it to class with a few seconds to spare, the late bell ringing just as you both took your seat. After another mundane routine of greeting and instructions, you were left to work on your class project, a portrait of a person that you had yet to start because honestly, you had no idea who to draw. Until now.

Setting up the table easel, you attached the sketch paper and started working. Your hand moved effortlessly, sketching out each smooth and beautiful feature. Losing yourself in your sketch, you're just about done with it when you finally pull back to rest for a moment, your back screaming in relief.

“Wow! So that's who you've been drawing? That's the best sketch of Jinyoung I've ever seen.” your friend said in awe. Jinyoung? You sat there and looked at the sketch and you realized the male in your dream was indeed Jinyoung. This realization suddenly put the whole dream in perspective and you smiled to yourself.

“Follow your heart.” You whispered to yourself and grinned. That's exactly what you were going to do.

~*~Eight Months Later ~*~

For your graduation present, your parents got you tickets to a Got7 concert and a Got7 fanmeeting. They were so proud of you. You had turned around so quickly, getting better grades in school and you finally decided what you wanted to go to school for. While they weren't the biggest supports of an arts school, your national win in the art contest had all but proven to them your talent for drawing.

As you made your way down the table, getting your album signed by each member, you clutched tightly to your 1st place sketch of Jinyoung. It felt like forever and not that you weren't grateful to be able to see all the other members (Got7 was one of your favorite groups after all), you were dying to give this gift that the other members always eyed, wondering if it was theirs.

At last you reached Jinyoung and after the small greeting, you lifted up the drawing, pressed against a hard black cardboard back and laminated so nothing could ruin it. The 1st place ribbon was still attached to it and across the top read ‘Tomorrow, Today’. Jinyoung stared at it for a moment, marveling before accepting it with a gracious smile. Carefully he sat it next to him on the floor, leaning up against the chair so it wouldn't be trampled or stepped on.

“Thank you. It's beautiful.” he said. Simple words but they had you blushing. He would probably never understand how important that drawing was to you or the meaning behind it, but you did and knowing that he now had the source of your motivation and confidence, it made you happy. You were no longer lost and confused. You knew which path was yours and you were going to walk down it with your head held high and you were going to meet any forks in the road with confidence and follow your heart in making your decisions.

You watched as he leaned forward and uncapped his pen and started writing. You thought he was signing, but after a few seconds, his hands started making the large movements that signified his signature before he passed back the album. With a bow, you took it with a smile and started moving down to the last member. Looking down at the album, you read over the words careful.

‘Always follow your heart, Y/N. I'll always be rooting for you. Fighting~’

Brows furrowing, you quickly look back and stared at Jinyoung. He was looking back at you and gave a wink, which only added to the confusion you felt. It had all been a dream…

Right?

#fanfic #fanfiction #got7 #jinyoung #park jinyoung #got7 jinyoung #x reader #dream au #slice of life #tomorrow today #verse 2 #jj project #jjp

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