#i have a test in less than an hour and and i ditched studying for it to write this fucking... essay

[gaysails]

saturday march twenty-fourth. shermer high school. shermer illinois. six oh oh six two. dear mister vernon. we accept the fact that we have to sacrifice a whole saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. and what we did was wrong. but we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. what do you care? you see us as you wanna see us. in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. you see us as a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess, and a criminal. correct? that's the way we saw each other at seven o'clock this morning. we were brainwashed. I can't believe you can't get me out of this. I mean it's so absurd that I have to be here on a saturday. it's not like I'm a defective or anything. I'll make it up to you. honey, ditching class to go shopping does not make you a defective. have a good day. is this the first time or the last time you do this? last. well get in there and use the time to your advantage. mom we're not supposed to study we just have to sit there and do nothing. well mister you figure out a way to study! yeah. hey I screwed around. guys screw around there's nothing wrong with that. except you got caught, sport. yeah mom already reamed me alright? hey! you wanna miss a match? you wanna blow your ride? now no school is gonna give a scholarship to a discipline case! well, well. here we are. I want to congratulate you for being on time. excuse me sir? I think there's been a mistake. I know it's detention but um, I don't think I belong in here. it is now seven oh six. you have exactly eight hours and fifty-four minutes to think about why you're here. ponder the error of your ways. you will not talk. you will not move from these seats. and YOU. will not sleep. alright people we're going to try something a little different today. we are going to write an essay of no less than a thousand words, describing to me who you think you are. is this a test? and when I say essay I mean essay. I do not mean a single word repeated a thousand times. is that clear mister bender? crystal. good. maybe you'll learn a little something about yourselves. maybe you'll even decide whether or not you care to return. uh, you know, I can answer that right now, sir, and that'd be no, no for me, because -- sit down johnson. thank you sir. my office is right outside that door. any monkey business is ill-advised. questions? YEAH I GOT A QUESTION DOES BARRY MANILOW KNOW THAT YOU RAID HIS WARDROBE

[caffinateef-studyblr]

hey I'm asking this because I've been so conflicted with everything as of now. I just completed 10th and my mom wants me to do IIT, I've not really got a strong opinion on what to do myself but I think I wanna to IIT as well. my question is which one would you suggest techno schools or normal schools and seperate coaching - normal schools meaning like dav, bhavans n stuff. my dad got me an admission in dav and is thinking of seperate coaching for IIT, but my mom suggests directly coaching cause it would lessen the burden. so we've been thinking of fitjee, I got like an offer from akash, an they even offered a way lesser price but we didn't really give a proper answer. I'm so conflicted as of now because what if a dont make it even If my parents spent so much money on me. I'm currently staying in Hyderabad and we are thinking of going to fitjee and like check out out. I'm seriously starving for any advice, sorry for bothering you but may I ask for your opinion?

would you suggest fitjee for 11th and 12th?

hi! the conflict is very understandable (and also relatable honestly, I went through the same thing)

since you have decided to do IIT, the choice of techno schools vs normal schools with coaching depends on you and how much pressure you can deal with, because these two years will be a continuous effort to work for JEE.

Personally, my school had a tie-up with a coaching institute where they would send their teachers to our school and we had half-day school and from like 1:00 to 4:00 or 4:30 we'd have coaching at school itself, so basically I had normal school and coaching. and the rest of the time was spent doing assignments and practice problems

it worked out for me but in the end, I ditched engineering and went for architecture instead since it appealed more to me (the math and physics does help a lot because we have some of that rn but I'm getting off-topic lol)

also, i have studied in kota for a while, so I will say that if you can deal with it a direct coaching might work out for you. but remember, just because you're just going for the coaching, doesn't mean that it's gonna be less effort. It'll be quite vigorous since you'll have to keep up with the pace and sit for the intense sessions for hours.

i asked a friend of mine about their experience in telangana and I'll just copy-paste what all they told me!

I did Olympiad school. Similar to techno school with more no. Of exams and all, then went to college. It was good. Once you get used to their pace, you'll be fine.

For me techno/Olympiad school was helpful. Grip on jee syllabus from the start could be really helpful. But, it also depends on the individual. If you're a fast learner, then coming from a normal school is also not a problem at all..since they start teaching from the scratch.

It's not as techno school will lessen student burden, it will almost be all same..but it will be easier for you to understand and solve the problems is all.

Well, personally, I went to Narayana so I would suggest that. But every college is one and the same. They conduct weekly mock tests in the weekend. For both mains and advance.

We had boards related lectures. But they won't focus much on it. Every college mainly focuses on advanced training..then mains and last but not least EAMCET. So preparing for these is almost enough for IPE too. Usually IPE lectures will be conducted a month or one and half month(max. 2 months) before the exams.

There are some slow learners toh they might start early too

For boards just referring to the books provided by the college is more than enough. You just have to go through the college provided books and you'll get full on full marks. There won't be any numerical changes in any type of questions.

But you need to be thorough in theory to answer very short answers.

Other colleges I'm not sure. But in Narayana there are different levels of training. According to your termly performance you'll be segregated into the team/level you're fit into and they'll train you accordingly for mains, advance and EAMCET

so that was their answer!

now for which one to choose, you might have to do a bit more research into it, like the coaching's/school's study structure and how well it would fit how you study, because those need to be compatible or else you'll feel burnt out too soon. and don't worry about making it or not too much right now. for now and for the next two years, all you need to focus on is just studying and understanding. as long as you put in your 100% it'll end up fine in the end.

talk to some seniors who have attended the coaching and techno schools and ask about their experience and see what might fit best for you.

don't stress out too much okay? also feel free to send me a message if you need advice or need to rant or sth and I'll try me best :)

#asks #anon

[gringolet]

I'm curious what makes you ship gawain and lancelot in the first place?

shulregahlugrahugr okay… look….

short answer: I just think they’re neat and should hold hands

LONG ANSWER:

it just seems like they just genuinely really care about each other even though they’re in some ways very different, like they’re technically rivals right, because at least in vulgate and (kinda) la morte de arthur, lancelot is the best with gawain a close second, but they never seem all that competitive.

especially in chretiens kngiht of the cart where they have this whole like buddy cop thing going on, where lancelot is younger and more impulsive and emotional and gawain is like just sort of along for the ride, stopping lancelot from falling out of windows and sleeping wierd places. then lancelot gets captured and has this whole. deeply homoerotic monologue about why gawain hasnt rescued him yet.  here is is:

“Ah, Gawain, you who possess suchworth, and whose goodness is unparalleled, surely I may well be amazed that you do not come tosuccour me. Surely you delay too long and are not showing courtesy. He ought indeed to receive youraid whom you used to love so devotedly! For my part I may truly say that there is no lodging place or retreat on either side of the sea, where I would not have searched for you at least seven or ten yearsbefore finding you, if I knew you to be in prison. But why do I thus torment myself? You do not carefor me even enough to take this trouble. The rustic is right when he says that it is hard nowadays to finda friend! It is easy to rest the true friend in time of need. Alas! more than a year has passed since first Iwas put inside this tower. I feel hurt, Gawain, that you have so long deserted me! But doubtless youknow nothing of all this, and I have no ground for blaming you. Yes, when I think of it, this must be thecase, and I was very wrong to imagine such a thing; for I am confident that not for all the worldcontains would you and your men have failed to come to release me from this trouble and distress, ifyou were aware of it. If for no other reason, you would be bound to do this out of love for me, yourcompanion. But it is idle to talk about it – it cannot be. “ 

basically sitting in a tower moping playing ‘he loves me, he loves me not,’ so thats certainly a lot, lets move on to the vulgate, where gawain pretty infamously says the following about lancelot:

“I’d immediately wish to be the most beautiful maiden in the world, happy and healthy, on condition that he would love me above all others, all his life and mine,”

so. theres that.

the main reason is deffo the end tho, where gawain gets fully unhinged and keeps trying to cut of lancelots head, which sounds wild but like lemme explain.

so lancelot and gawain fight and its really close, but eventually lancelot wins. gawain refuses to yield though, so lance now has to choose between killing gawain, which will also end the war and solve a lot of his problems, and dishonorably leaving the field, prolonging the war and shaming himself. its worth noting that gawain is literally begging lancelot to kill him at this point. but lancelot cant bring himself to do it, and returns to his cousins in shame.

theyre like dude what the fuck, and he says uh some things which speak for themselves:

“he would have killed you if he could,” said Hector, “Why did you not do the same to him?”

“I could not do it,” said Lancelot, “because my heart, which directs me, would not allow it for anything,”

and

“I should not kill him for all the world…he is the man, out of all those in the world that have meant anything to me, that I have most loved,”

and 

“it is certainly remarkable of you, “said King Bors, “to love him so deeply when he hates you mortally,”

“find it remarkable if you wish,” replied Lancelot, “but he will never be able to hate me so much that I stop loving him.”

fuck oh god i made myself sad holy shit. guys they love each other. god this post is so long but like. feel free to send me asks about them when fuckin ever i will drop everything to talk about how much i think these two medieval literature characters should kiss.

#long post #arthuriana #look #THYERE IN LOVE OKAY #i have a test in less than an hour and and i ditched studying for it to write this fucking... essay #and i also ditched studying last night to watch avalon high on discord... #sorry greek vase painting of archaic athens but u dont hold my attention like gawain does #Anonymous

[byunbaekby]

title: haven’t been caught pairing: badboy!haechan x goodgirl!reader word count: 1.7k genres: fluff, established relationship au, high school au, secret relationship warnings: mentions of weed, suggestiveness, one cuss word, not proofread additional: based on the song “good girls” by 5 seconds of summer. also, big thanks to @florence-cvrt​ for all their help <3

-

She's good at school, she's never truant She can speak French, I think she's fluent.

“Lee Donghyuck, if you don’t get your hand off my thigh right this instant, I will tell Mr. Qian to fail you.”

You bring a light slap down on his hand, which is threatening to slide up your skirt. Your boyfriend’s hand immediately leaves your leg, innocently tucking it back into his lap. When you turn to him, his pretty lips are spread into a fake virtuous smile and his long hair barely covers his entertained sparkling eyes. Still, he complains, “Wait until I tell the student body that their vice president is actually violent and manipulative.” 

He tsk’s as you show no reaction, instead flipping through the pages of the French textbook. “What would you tell them?” 

Donghyuck leans back in his desk chair where the two of you reside in an empty classroom, adjusting the collar of his leather jacket before running a hand through his hair. “That even though you walk around school smiling at everyone and kissing teachers’ asses, you love hitting your boyfriend and threatening him.”

“You, my boyfriend?” You laugh at him, eyes never leaving the book. “They’d never believe you.”

You’re right, because the school has no idea that you, the It Girl and vice president of the student body council, are dating Lee Donghyuck, the guy who smokes weed behind the school and always skips class for no important reason other than to entertain himself. How you even started dating is another story, but now your relationship is on the infinite downlow.

“You’re right,” he relents, but he’s obviously not given up yet as he leans closer to you. You try not to get swayed by the sudden infiltration of his scent, and continue scanning the pages of the French book. “They won’t. But it wouldn’t be a surprise. I mean, we’d be the hottest couple ever. So, maybe I should put a nice big hickey, right there on your pretty neck. Maybe then they’ll believe you’re not as innocent as you pretend to be,” teases your boyfriend, his voice dipping lower into dangerous territory. 

You roll your eyes. “Sure,” you respond sarcastically.

“If you say so.”

Before you know it, your boyfriend has leaned in to kiss you, lips inches away from yours. When you realize what he’s up to you put a hand up, so his lips meet your palm instead of their intended destination. “No.”

A whine leaves him, a stark juxtaposition from his dark appearance. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not appropriate.”

“Not appropriate?” he questions, crossing his leather covered arms across his chest. “You’re my girlfriend.”

A shake of your head tells him no, along with a teasing smirk upon your lips. “Not right now. Right now, I’m your French tutor. Now pay attention,” you tell him, gaze skimming the textbook page. 

“Fine,” he scoffs, leaning back in his chair. 

“Je suis allé au café et j'ai pris une tasse de café. Translate that for me.”

“That means,” he starts, rolling his neck back to stretch it out, looking less than interested in the lesson. “My boyfriend is so sexy and I wish he would kiss me right now.”

Your eyes narrow, and you shake your head. He speaks up again. “I was kidding, actually it means, Donghyuck, I love when you wear your leather jacket, it makes you look so sexy.” 

You lean forward, capturing your head in your hands in frustration. He just laughs. “Tu es une telle honte, pourquoi je sors avec toi,” you sigh out, exasperated. 

“Oh,” he hums, leaning forward to hold your hands instead. “Maybe that one means, My girlfriend is so beautiful and smart?” You look up at him, raising an eyebrow at his sudden attempt to appeal to you. “Because you are.”

You roll your eyes, a smile spreading over your lips. “Actually I was calling you a disgrace and wondering why I’m even dating you.”

“Not surprised,” he chuckles softly, but immediately closes the French textbook on the desk before the two of you. “Come on, you know I’m not good at this school thing. Mr. Qian already knew that when he asked you to tutor me. How about,” he tilts his head at you, about to put up an offer. “We ditch this tutoring session and go get some ice cream? On me.”

A purse of your lips tells him you’re considering it, and he adds, “If anything, I’m just studying more by being with a beautiful lady who speaks fluent French.” 

You chuckle, leaning forward with pursed lips. “Je t'aime.”

“That one I know,” he smiles as he presses a sweet kiss to your lips. “Love you too. Now let’s go,” he says, standing and pulling you along by the hand. 

'Cause every night she studies hard in her room At least that's what her parents assume But she sneaks out the window to meet with her boyfriend.

Carefully you climb down the side of the house, trying your best not to make any noise against the wall but also trying not to fall to your death. A sigh of relief leaves your lips as both your feet touch the solid ground.

“Going somewhere?”

Immediately you jump, eyes widened as you turn to meet the owner of the voice. “Donghyuck!” You hiss, voice still low. “I thought you were my dad!”

“Well, you can call me daddy too,” your boyfriend says as he approaches you to press a kiss on your cheek. The tip of his light chin stubble brushes on your skin as he does so. 

“Don’t even joke about that,” you roll your eyes, allowing him to slide an arm over your shoulder and walk you down the street to where he parked his car out of view from your house. “So, where are we going?” “A friend’s party. His name is Mark.”

A cautious eyebrow is raised by you. “Will anyone from school be there?”

He shakes his head in response, knowing you can’t be spotted together especially with you under his arm at a college party of course. You’ve got to protect your precious reputation. “Nah, he’s in college. There’s no way he’d let high schoolers in.”

“We’re high schoolers, silly.”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugs before turning and grinning sinfully at you. “But we’re cool.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” you tease as he releases you and unlocks his car.

She may be clever but she just acts too square 'Cause in the back of the room where nobody looks She'll be with her boyfriend, she's not reading books.

As you slide up onto your tiptoes, the feeling of your boyfriend pressing against you is much too present and you scoff. “Can you stop being a horndog and get this book for me?”

“Darling,” he chastises, reaching up to grab it easily above you. “That’s what I was doing.”

As he hands the book to you, you roll your eyes. “Sure, like you weren’t trying to rub up on me.” 

“Not at all,” responds Donghyuck, dark eyes glinting with mischief. You leave him behind as you turn into the next aisle, searching carefully for the next book you were looking for. As you get deeper into the library shelves, the light gets further away and the tall shelves begin to cast a shadow upon your hidden figures. “Why do you even wear your uniform, anyways? You know it’s not required by the school.” 

“Yeah,” you respond matter-of-factly. “But as the vice president I should adhere to the suggestions set by the administration. Clearly you don’t care,” you say, glancing over his usual outfit of ripped jeans (which definitely didn’t fit normal dress code anyways) and his trademark leather jacket over a white Adidas shirt. 

“Okay, but your president Huang Renjun is a lame virgin with a stick up his ass and even he doesn’t wear his uniform everyday,” retorts your boyfriend.

“More reason why I should have been president instead,” you respond, scanning over the back of a book sounding not at all petty.

“That’s because at the time, you were more focused on becoming my girlfriend than campaigning, you minx,” Donghyuck teases as you slide the book back into its place, unsatisfied with its synopsis. When you don’t respond, instead turning into yet another aisle, he follows you, fingers tugging slightly at your skirt. “That’s okay, I like the skirt anyways,” he says, his famous smirk over his lips as your mouth gapes and a flustered warmth slides up to your cheeks. “S’cute.”

She said to me, forget what you thought 'Cause good girls are bad girls that haven't been caught

“Oh my god, Y/N,” Donghyuck already starts as he approaches you in the front of the school, already losing his bad boy personality in the fear that you’d be upset at him. “I’m so sorry.”

The two of you had been caught making out in the bleachers by a few members of the football team after school yesterday. Okay, perhaps it wasn’t the most discreet of places but you swore they’d announced over the intercom that football practice was cancelled for the day! Unluckily, it seemed a few players still wanted to get some practice in. 

Surely, rumors flew in less than twenty-four hours. Y/N, with Donghyuck? No way. Impossible.

Yeah, that was what you thought too, until it happened. You fell for him, for all his rough edges and playful teasing. He doesn’t deserve to be hidden. 

The smile you give him must throw him off, because he blinks. He’s probably forgotten his pre-made apology; he knows how important your reputation is to him. In his silence, you speak up.

“I don’t want to hide anymore. Let’s,” you propose as you interlace your hands, surely feeling eyes on you already. “Show them what a hot couple looks like.” 

He blinks, eyes flying to your hands and it’s probably the first time you’ve seen the snarky Donghyuck speechless. He recovers smoothly, smirking and nodding. “Okay. Let’s blow them away.” 

“But if you fail your French test in third period, I will break up with you.”

A boisterous laugh leaves his lips as he kicks open the doors to the school hallway. “Noted.”

Before the two of you enter the hallway to expose your unlikely clandestine romance to everyone, you lean up and whisper in his ear. “Je t'aime.”

“I know what that means,” he smirks as he presses a proud kiss onto your temple, and takes a step inside. 

#neowritingsnet #dreamwritersnet #nct-writers #mlznet #haechan fluff #haechan angst #haechan scenarios #haechan imagines #haechan fanfic #nct dream jaemin #nct dream fluff #nct fluff #nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct drabbles

[letarasstuff]

Making the Voice quieter

(A/N): This was requested by an anon. I hope you like it!

Summary: Spencer finds out about his daughter's eating disorder, he will he react?

Warnings: Angst, discription of an eating disorder (bulemia to be more specific), discription of (binge) eating, bad body image, self hatred, abuse of pills (diet pills)

Wordcount: 2.2k

✨Masterlist✨

______________________________

Prison. Cat. Diana. All those things happened close to each other. Luckily a few months have passed since then and slowly everything settles down. Spencer is able to get his feelings sorted through, processing the events.

Ever since his imprisonment he follows a more or less strict routine, given the uncertainty coming with his job. Spencer still tries to keep it up. So is every Friday dedicated to buying the majority of groceries and needed non food articles.

Sometimes (Y/N) tags along, other days she already has plans with her friends. Her father doesn’t mind it much, he is happy to see her socializing with people her age. The two of them have one father-daughter-night in the week anyways.

“Sweetheart, I’m heading out! Did you put everything you need on the list?” He shouts into the apartment. A faint “Yes! Love you!” echoes back to him. A smile forms on the doctor’s face. Oh how he longed to hear those words from her every night while he laid in his bed, locked up for a crime he didn’t commit. “Alright, love you, too!”

Meanwhile her father has to deal with Karens being their ignorant selfs, (Y/N) is under the biggest stress she has ever been. The end of her sophomore year and suddenly every teacher thinks it’s alright to give the students a load of work in every single class.

It’s beginning to get to her head. Four essays, three projects and studying for two tests and everything is due next week. She can see herself sitting at that very desk for the whole weekend, trying to contain control of her current situation.

As (Y/N) begins to read the page in front of her again to pull any information from it, it feels like her brain shuts down. Only one thought possesses her. One thing that can assure her, make her happy again.

Her body moves automatically, into the kitchen to the fridge. Her hands grab what they can. Puddings, yogurts, bananas, apples, last night’s dinner, everything that she can carry. Then the teenager sits down at the floor and devours everything she just got out. (Y/N) doesn’t stop until she gets to this intense feeling of being full.

It seems like she snaps out of a trance. Upon seeing what she ate in the shortest time, the girl feels even worse. Quickly she tries to destroy any kind of evidence, getting the trash out, making the fridge appear more full than it is, anything.

In her panicked state she remembers the small container of pills in her room. Relief washes over (Y/N), thinking everything will be better. She takes two of them for good measurement.

With the relief also guilt takes over. What just happened wasn’t normal. But (Y/N) tells herself that she can stop any time she wants. It’s not like she is sick or something, everything is fine. It’s just her way to copy stress. A way she discovered while her father was in prison. The diet pills help her to undo her mistakes. Someone from her friend group, who is already 18, got her them from the doctor for a fair price.

Feeling calmer now, the teenager sits back at her desk. A new perception of control helps her to continue her school work. She has to get done as much as possible, because in not even half an hour (Y/N)’s best friend will be the toilet.

Spencer is completely obvious to it. Sure, he is a profiler and he noticed his daughter’s new view on eating healthy food and working out. He just assumes that (Y/N) and her friends are on a healthy trip and he doesn’t see a problem in this. On the contrary, he is happy that she wants to be good to herself and her body.

But as the weeks go on, a suspicious feeling captures him. “(Y/N)? Why is the fridge nearly empty? We got groceries last Friday and it’s only Tuesday. Did you have a party over here while I was away on the case?” Spencer enters his daughter’s room, trying to joke about it.

(Y/N) freezes. Of course she isn’t able to say that the food went bad and she threw them away, her father is meticulous regarding this subject, always checking the best before day date. “Uhm, please don’t be mad. But Alex, you know her, the short one with red hair, uhm her parents are on a business trip and she is not the best cook. So I brought her lunch and dinner over. I’m sorry for not telling you.” She looks down at the floor, not only to feign sadness but also to avoid his eyes.

The second the teenager talks Spencer knows there is something fishy. Her voice is higher and she fidget with her hands. But he writes it off as being nervous for not telling him. Ever since he is out of prison, it feels like his daughter is withholding something.

“It’s fine, Sweetheart. Just give me a heads-up beforehand, so I know to buy more groceries. What do you think about ordering something tonight? I heard from Luke that a small Chinese restaurant opened a few streets down. We can celebrate the end of the stressful phase in Sophomore year.”

It seems like (Y/N) is calculating something in her head. Spencer knows exactly what she thinks about. “You can forget about your calorie intake for one night. I see how much time you invest in living healthy, but we can let loose for a night together. Just some noodles with chicken or spring rolls and us trying to use chopsticks and giving up after two minutes and resorting to forks. How does that sound?”

The teenager would love to sigh, but it would only alarm her father further. “Yeah, you are right. Let us let loose. But only if I can choose the movie we watch after dinner!” (Y/N) feels bad for eating unhealthy food again. Her last binge was only yesterday and usually she tries to consume lighter things. But she has to bite into the sour apple, else her father will be more suspicious. After all, she can just stop. (Y/N) promises herself to not think about her weight, her shape or the calories she will eat.

Well yeah, no. Just after the first noodle hits her tongue, intrusive thoughts take a seat in her mind, getting settled.

‘You already look like a potato.’

‘Are you sure this is the right thing to eat?’

‘Can you really stop?’

‘Dad is going to hate you when he finds out.’

All of them and more enter her head. (Y/N) is unable to shake them off. She is fine. She doesn’t have a problem. She just doesn’t feel like eating now, that’s fine, right?

“Uhm Dad. I’m full and really tired from the day. Is it ok if I go to bed? Maybe we can rain check on that movie?” The girl asks, feeling even worse for ditching her father. Usually it’s the other way around.

“Are you feeling ok? You look a little pale. Are you sick?” Spencer fires his question canone being the borderline helicopter father he always is. “Yes, just really exhausted from all the assignment and school work. A good night's rest and I will be good as new.” (Y/N) attempts a small smile, but fails miserably at it.

“Ok, sleep tight baby. I’ll put the leftovers in the fridge for you tomorrow.” Quickly she goes into her room. The thoughts in her head scream louder and louder with each step she takes. Can she really stop? Maybe she should come clean to her father.

‘And risking him hating you? Look at you, thinking you are sane is the only thing keeping him from abandoning you. How would you explain him keeping you otherwise? It’s definitely not for your looks.’

Later that night, (Y/N) hasn’t gotten a wink of sleep because of the voices, she makes her way back to the kitchen. In an attempt to distract herself, the teenager scrolled through her social media sites. There she was met by pictures of perfect people.

Perfect bodies. Perfect lives. Perfect smiles. Perfect family. Perfect friends. Everything about them is perfect.

And then there is her. Her body is unperfect. Her life is a mess. Her smile is not that of a model. Her family is just her, her father and the people he works with. Her friends aren’t always the best associates.

The stress of not feeling enough is getting to (Y/N)’s head. Like several times before that her body goes into auto. She doesn’t control her movements, though she tells herself all of this is willently.

Like so many times before the girl goes through the fridge and eats everything up she can get her fingers on. But this time one thing is different. Her father is at home. And he isn’t a heavy sleeper.

The movement in the kitchen wakes him up. Immediately his brain jumps to a burglar or even worse, an UnSub they once arrested coming after him. Quickly he gets his revolver and sneaks through the hallway to the source of the noises. As Spencer only sees his daughter sitting there, he instantly relaxes.

“Hey Sweetheart, what are you doing up? It’s a school night”, he softly asks in order to not scare her. Still, (Y/N) gets startled at the sudden voice.

“Uhm, nothing much. Just hungry. Probably because I didn’t eat dinner”, she explains, looking at her father like he caught her with her hand stuck in the cookie jar. Spencer watches her closely. “This is it? Because from what it looks like you not only ate your dinner but also tomorrow’s breakfast and right now lunch.”

(Y/N) swallows her bite, feeling that sinking reality in her stomach. The pills. She needs the pills fast before her body begins to digest the food. “Uhm, yeah. I probably should go to bed. I need my sleep. Just let me tidy up. Good night, Dad.” But he is quick to stop her.

“(Y/N), I want you to sit down. There is something we have to talk about.” Hesitantly (Y/N) takes a seat. “What is it Dad? Are you reprimanding me for eating? I thought you wanted me to let loose for a night.”

Spencer sits, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Baby, I want you to be alright. But I think you are not.” His eyes get a sad look. “I’m alright. I am fine, Dad. What do you think is wrong with me?”

“Look, (Y/N), I don’t need to be a profiler to see that you are struggling with something. Do you want to tell me about it?” Her answer is a tight lipped smile and a “I’m fine. There is nothing to talk about.”

The father sighs. She is not leaving him much of a choice. “And what about them?” Spencer asks after getting something from the highest shelf in the kitchen, the one (Y/N) barely reaches by stepping on a stool. He sets a little container down on the table.

“Dad I-” “No (Y/N). You don’t need to explain anything. It’s my turn to talk. I found those in your room yesterday while I was looking for a book. At first I thought nothing of it, I mean you are trying to live healthy, so I thought this is part of the process. But then I saw that they have to be prescribed and I know that these aren’t yours.

“I wanted to talk about it with you anyway. But now I know that I caught you binge eating and I see all the signs. I see them and I’m sorry for not acting sooner. (Y/N), you need help and I’m here for you. I know the last few months were especially hard on you. I can’t change what was and what happened, but I will be here for you now." Tears stream down on boths their faces.

(Y/N) is stammering for words. “I-I am fine. I can stop anytime I want. Th-this was a conscious d-decision.” Her father envelops her in a hug, cradling her head to his chest. She begins to sob.

“I know, Sweetheart. It’s hard and it won’t get easier from here on, but I’m here. You know you can’t stop, it’s only an illusion your eating disorder wants you to believe. But we get through it together. You, I and the team if you want to. We take it at your pace.” By now the two are crying loudly.

“I want it to stop, Dad. Please make the voice go away.”

He can’t make it go away. No one can. But Spencer helps to quiet it. Together they tackle the disorder, through the good and the bad times. He takes off from work for a time and (Y/N) out of school for a few weeks to be able to work on it together, to make the voice quieter and her life better.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x teen!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #x daughter!reader #x teen!reader #tw: eating disorder

[songmingisthighs]

[23.20] badboy!seonghwa × reader

⇀ he made the first move. don't you forget that.

⇁ part 1 / 2

⇁ prologue part 1 / 2 / 3

"Shit (Y/N) I'm so sorry but turns out Hyerin already put me down as a group partner!" Your friend, Chaerin, said with pity in her eyes.

Sophomore year sucks. Simply because people had already found people they wanna group with so it's back to highschool cliques. Juvenile, I know.

But Chaerin was supposed to be your safe bet, the one person who'd be in the same group as you as long as you both have the same class. But since she took the afternoon class of your addiction psychology last semester due to scheduling reasons, you could sense that she might've found new friends. Which scared you.

"Chaerin, I know no one else in this class, how am I supposed to group with them? Professor Kang said 2-3 people in a group so just take me with you!" You begged, holding onto her arm to prevent her from leaving your side during group discussion.

Chaerin looked at you with so much pity in her eyes, "I'm sorry (Y/N), but Hyerin already took her boyfriend in with her and she's really great with statistics! I need to pass statistics 1 to be able to get to statistics 2, so I'm really sorry," she then proceed to detach your hand from her arm and scamper away to her groupmates.

You glared at her, feeling slightly offended that she basically said that she assumed you're stupid with statistics and that she left you so easily.

Looking around, you found people who were still only in pairs. Some of them were quite familiar, having seen them with your other classmates around campus.

But before you could suck your pride up and grovel, someone had dropped their books on the spot next to you, soon their body plopped down and you were able to see who the person is.

Park Seonghwa.

"I hope you don't mind, I heard what your friend said so I put our name together as a group, I don't know anyone else here," he said simply, looking at you with a blank facial expression.

He was in your intro to psychology class back in your first semester, having had spoken a bit during impromptu discussions and sharing knowing glances and smiles when you passed by each other.

You knew him as the popular guy who always have 7 other people around him outside of class. Good grades, flirts a lot, respectful towards professors, and a notorious player.

But even so you couldn't help but feel relieved when he said what he said.

You exhaled loudly in relief, smiling gratefully at him, "no, no, I don't mind at all! In fact, I'm rather grateful! I don't know what I'd do if you hadn't group us together first, like who'd I be able to beg to? I barely know these people, and Chaerin just had to leave me for Hyerin and her boyfriend," you said, bitterly saying the last part.

Seonghwa smirked at you and your blatant bitterness, "aren't you supposed to be all supportive of your friends? Girl power and all?" You scoffed at him, "with how she ditch me? No way, what she did was blatant abandonment, parents get put in jail for that, you know?"

He laughed genuinely at what you said. Never had he ever encountered a girl with the amount of spunk you have. The girls he spent his time with are usually those who fake innocence or feign their whole personality so he wouldn't be able to see who they are truly. But he has enough experience to know what's genuine. And you? You're as clean as they come.

"True, I agree," he calmed down a bit before shrugging at you, "still, how much do you think she'd enjoy her time being a third wheel? You should pity her and not be mad at her," he suddenly leaned his face close to you, "or, if you want, we can convince her to come to our group and be our third wheel instead," he muttered lowly.

Usually, he'd expect girls to blush and stutter when he did that. But he was surprised to see you giggle nonchalantly, "why would she third wheel us? We have nothing between us that she would be able to third wheel on," you said, shaking your head because you honestly think what he said was silly.

While you knew him as the flirt, he knew you as the girl who goes beyond her way to help people. The girl who was known around campus as the spark of joy that they could always count on.

He convinced himself that the reason why he wanted to get close to you is because he wants to test whether or not it was true, that you are as good as people perceived you are. He supress his straying thoughts of how sweet your smile is, how you seem to stop every 5 steps to say hi to someone wherever you go, and he had to muster extra strength to suppress his need to plant kisses all over your face whenever you smile. Which is often.

The class ended with Professor Kang giving the first assignment which is to familiarize yourself with both SPSS and JASP. He gave instructions on how to download the programs before dismissing the class promptly.

As you pack your things into back, simultaneously throwing a winning smirk at Chaerin whom over the past hour and a half had been looking your way with an incredulous look, not believing that Park Seonghwa sat next to you and initiate to be in the same group as you.

When you step out of the classroom, Seonghwa suddenly joined you by walking next to you.

"So, can we meet up this afternoon at the café across campus ?" He asked, tilting his head a little at you. Despite him donning his signature leather jacket and white tee with distressed jeans, he looks adorable like this.

"What for?" you asked him, tilting your head to the head slightly in confusion, "we don't really have anything to do yet, Seonghwa" you grinned at him.

Seonghwa bit his bottom lip, suppressing the urge to pull you into him. A very hard task to do.

"I-I-," he coughed a little, not believing that he just stuttered in front of you, "we could download both programs together and learn how to use them so that we'd be on the same page, you know? So neither of us would be less knowledgeable than the other,"

What he said made sense. You considered his words while nodding your head in understatement. Meeting him later in the afternoon wouldn't be cutting in any of your schedule nor would it bother you whatsoever. And you honestly like the idea of not being too dependent on one another for things.

Deciding that it was a good idea, you nodded at him, "sure! Should we exchange numbers, then? So it'll be easier to communicate things?" you offered him your phone.

Seonghwa didn't even bother to hide the smirk on his face. Never had he ever experience having to trade number for something so innocent, it's honestly making him kind of tingly.

When you both finished putting in each other's contacts in the other's phone, going as far as putting a contact photo on them for no specific reason, you both returned each other's phone.

All of a sudden, Seonghwa leaned his face close to yours, "and besides," he smiled, "I'm keen on familiarizing myself with you too," he said before he turned on his heels and walk away.

You stood there, frozen at what just happened.

Just to make you even more flustered, he looked back and threw you a wink.

"See you later, (Y/N)!" he called, making everyone look at you in jealousy, probably thinking you had scored a date with him.

Despite the shock and the unfamiliarity, you're actually excited about meeting him later even just for something as miniscule as studying.

if only you knew.

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez scenario #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #seonghwa #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #timestamp #ateez timestamp #ateez au #smt timestamp

[flower-slut004]

TUTOR

Note; I can’t tell if those are lipstick marks or scratches but by his reaction, I think it’s lipstick

Summary; Ethan secretly (not so secretly) has a crush on you, when given the chance to help you with homework, he jumped on it.

“The papers I’m passing out are your tests from last week” your math teacher explained.

“Some of you did well” She gave a smile to Sarah as she gave her test to her.

“And some of you of you didn’t” she frowned as she came up to you, flipping your paper downside so other peeking eyes wouldn’t see.

“As for....the others...I don’t know what you did” she gave a grimaced look as she gave Rory his test.

You let a sigh as you looked at your test, on the right-hand corner a big fat D stared back at you mockingly.

“Hey what did you....oh.....” Sarah frowned when she saw your test. “I just don’t get it, I study all week for this damn test and look where it got me” you groaned.

“Hey, you tried your best and that’s what matters” Sarah lays a comforting hand on your shoulder. You let out a sigh as the bell rang signaling for lunch.

"Hello ladies" Benny waited outside the classroom for the two of you along with Ethan. You gave a weak smile towards the boys, that little action made Ethan's cheeks turn rosy.

"Don't try it today Benny, Yn isn't in the mood" Sarah warns, you didn't care if Benny played his jokes today. You knew that was just Sarah talking.

“Wait...what’s wrong?” Ethan clears his throat as he tried to hide his worried expression.

“I did shitty on this test and now I’m overthinking life and now I’m wondering where the nearest ditch is” you grumbled as you all walked to the lunchroom.

“I...I can tutor you....only if you want you to know? No pressure” Ethan stutters as he adjusts his backpack.

“Really? You’d do that?” you let out a big smile at his words. Ethan turned bright red “Y..Yeah totally. I’m sure my parents would be cool with you coming over tonight” he rambles.

“You know when Sarah is looking after Jane we can study upstairs in my room” He looks at you. Benny raised his eyebrows at his best friend's new boldness.

“I mean...if you’re okay doing it in my room. I...I mean studying! I mean if you’re okay studying in my room” Ethan looked at you in horror as he tried to explain himself.

Benny and Sarah left the two of you alone as they were trying to stop themselves from laughing.

Ethan glared at the two as they left and turned back when he heard you clear your throat. "Whatever is available when we get to your house E...thanks again." you squeezed his arm highly.

Ethan felt his face turn red once again when he felt your touch on him."Let's eat, I'm starving" you giggled as you pulled him to the line.

The school was over sooner than you expected and Ethan ran out of the building going straight home to make sure the house look presentable.

A gust of wind blew through Ethan's house signaling Sarah sped inside. "Please never do that again, I think I'm going to barf" Benny groans as he appeared next to her.

"What are you guys doing! I don't have time for this YN is coming over" Ethan groaned as he scrubbed the kitchen counter.

"It seemed like you needed help so here we are" Sarah grabs the rag he was holding. "Benny stay here and help me, Ethan go get dressed" she shooed him.

"What? He's my best friend, I want to help him" Benny whined. "Benny just shut up and help" she glared as she shoved the cleaning supplies in his hand.

Ethan rushed upstairs to get dressed and almost came down tripping down the stairs when he heard a knock.

When Ethan got down, he noticed Benny and Sarah gone, letting out a sigh he opened the door to see you standing with a wide smile.

"Hey! Thanks so much again for offering to tutor me E" You smiled widely as Ethan let you inside. "Yeah yeah, no problem. Anything for you"

Ethan mentally slapped himself for saying that. "I mean because you're my friend. Anything for a friend" he reinstated.

"Well none the less, thanks. You have no idea what this means to me E" you gave him a small hug, to which he froze too.

"Yeah yeah...let's get to studying" he cleared his throat and lead you to the study table.

Days would go following this routine, certainly, Ethan's parents noticed his interest in cleaning and invited you to dinner.

"So, YN... has Ethan been helping you a lot?" His dad would ask trying to make small talk. "Definalty, I'm taking the retake this week and I've been understanding the subject a lot more thanks to Ethan" you smiled at him causing him to blush.

The day of the test arrived and to say you were nervous was an understatement. "Okay I know I said I was prepared but I'm still freaking out. Quick E give me a random math equation" you grabbed on to him.

"Relax, YN you'll do fine, I promise you." Ethan gently removed your hands from him. "Go take your test, I'll be waiting here for you" he nodded as other students piled in to take their retake.

About an hour passed and students came out, some with upset expressions, others with grins.

Ethan peered into the classroom when he didn't see YN and was almost tackled by her.

"E! I passed all thanks to you." she squealed as she pressed kisses all over his face in gratitude.

Ethan was left frozen when she pulled away. "Oops... I left some lipstick stains on you, I'll be back!" she apologized as she headed to the bathroom.

A wolf whistle came up from behind him "Seems to me, you two did a little more than studying if you catch my drift" Benny teased.

Ethan stayed quiet but a smile came across his face as he held on to his cheek where you placed a kiss.

#multifandom imagines #my babysitter's a vampire imagine #mbav x reader #ethan morgan #my babysitters a vampire

[scxrlettwxtches]

urgent romance intervention | kim seungmin

genre: slight angst, fluff, humor

warnings: none!

prompt: everyone thinks we’re already dating, but we’re just best friends--oh wait--

word count: ~3.2k

a/n: first of all, im so sorry for literally dropping off the face of the earth after opening requests. i’ve been in a deep writing slump and i just managed to somewhat pull myself out of it with this fic. >.< to the lovely anon who sent this, im so so sorry if this isnt as good as you wanted it! i’ve just been having a very hard time writing. i hope this isn’t too far off from what you expected! as always, im so so grateful to everyone who has supported this blog, it means so much to me! love you all! <3

“We are not dating!”

This was absolutely ridiculous. Of all the crazy things you had imagined yourself doing once you got to college, you never thought you'd be having to deny dating allegations (from some pretty close friends, no less). What made this situation even more bizarre, was the fact that the topic of these allegations, your supposed “boyfriend,” was none other than your best friend, Kim Seungmin.

“There's no need to be so private, Y/N. We aren't prudes here,” Jisung looked far too smug sitting across from you as you worked on your project together at a random campus cafe with your other group member, Minho.

You couldn't help but scoff at his words, writing in your notebook with a little more ferocity than usual. A little was an understatement, actually; your pencil was practically cutting into three pages at this point, “I'm not being private, I'm being honest. I'm not dating Seungmin.”

“Are you sure?” Jisung continued to press for details, leaning forward with wide eyes. 

“I think I'd be aware if I was dating my best friend,” you rolled your eyes, taking another big bite of your croissant, holding it with your left hand as you continued to take notes with your right. 

Minho coughed and muttered the words similar to, “You'd be surprised,” under his breath, but you were too sick of this conversation to care.

You had a total of five minutes of pleasant peace and quiet when Jisung spoke up once more, “I think you two are cute, for what it’s worth,” he said, nibbling at his cheesecake.

“I very much appreciate it, but I’d appreciate it much more if you actually worked on our project,” you smiled pleasantly, gripping your mechanical pencil so hard you were sure it would snap. Jisung huffed, blowing the hair out of his face when your phone buzzed on the table.

“Oh, it’s your boyfriend,” Minho interjected with a smug smile. 

You scowled. You definitely didn’t get enough sleep to be in the mood to deal with this, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you rolled your eyes, grabbing your phone.

“Are you sure? I bet you it’s him.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s in class right now, and you know Seungmin hates to text--” your voice died right in your throat as you stared at the notification. What the hell was going on? Since when did Seungmin ever text anyone during his classes? But phones don’t lie, and the alert was definitely about the two unread messages from your best friend.

seungmo

wanna get dinner tonight?

i got a reservation at the hotel restaurant you like 

me

how in the world did you get that?! i try to get it for special occasions and i always have to book like three months in advance

seungmo

just some connections

wanna go?

me

hell yeah. see ya soon :)

“So, who’s the lucky texter?” Jisung put his elbows on the table, smiling at you with a devious smirk.

You gave both him and Minho a wary glare as you slipped your phone back into your bag, flipping around your textbook again and continuing to work on the project as you muttered, “Seungmin.”

“Ah, see? I knew he cared about you more than school,” Minho sighed dreamily, which honestly made you want to hurl, “That’s true love, isn’t it, Sungie?”

Jisung nodded fervently and you finally snapped, throwing your pen down, “Why the fuck does everyone think we’re dating?! We’re not!”

“Oh yeah? So what did he text you about?” Jisung asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

You pursed your lips, snapping once more, “Just about--” you faltered slightly, processing Seungmin’s messages as your expression morphed from indignant to almost confused.

“About what, Y/N?” Jisung tried again, a smile already quirking his lips upward as he studied your expression. Damn him. Damn Minho. Damn this whole fucking thing.

“About going out for dinner,” you answered under your breath, resting your chin on your arms as you muttered defensively, “It’s not even that big of a deal. We eat dinner together all the time.” 

Minho snorted, “Of course. I bet he even said he made reservations at some fancy ass restaurant,” When the only answer to his accusation was silence, he couldn’t help but scoff, “For someone as bright as you, you’re pretty oblivious about flirting, aren’t you?”

“Watch it,” There was an undertone of a growl as you bared your teeth at him, “I’m the only reason you’re all getting A’s on this project. Don’t test me.”

Jisung shrugged, “If it means finally getting you laid, I’m willing to take an L,” he said simply, twirling his pen as your cheeks grew flush, and with an angry huff, taking your notebook and smacking his arm with it. 

“My sexual life is none of your business,” you snapped, steam practically shooting out of your head as you glared at the two boys. How you three ended up being friends was always going to be something you’d never understand.

“It was none of our business because there was nothing to talk about. Things are different now, sweetie,” Minho snickered, giggling with Jisung like a pair of gossipy school girls as he whispered to you , “Trust me, I got this information first hand. Did you know Seungmin actually has a monster--”

“That’s it. You’re doing this project on your own.”

“W-wait--Y/N!”

.

“Of course you can skip overtime today! It’s not like you’re ever obligated to stay,” your boss at the local bookstore said happily as you hesitantly asked her if it would be alright if you didn’t close up for the day.

Still, despite her reassurances, you bit your lip, “A-are you sure? I could tell my friend to just go with someone else,” you trailed off just as the woman took your hands in hers, shaking her head fervently.

“No, no, no, don’t do that. Of course, you can leave at six. Hell, I wouldn’t even mind if you left at five since you already do so much for me,” she chuckled, smiling at you, “Where are you going? Party? Club?”

“No,” you said with a sheepish smile to compliment her wolfish grin. You both knew that alcohol was definitely not your thing “Just a fancy dinner at a fancy place, apparently.” 

"Oh! With a boyfriend?" She asked as the two of you walk around sorting the newly arrived books into different categories. 

Your face burned with embarrassment, "No, it's just Seungmin," you muttered in response, carrying a stack of books over to a large pile of nonfiction novels. 

"So, a boyfriend," she said simply, not even bothering to look at you. 

Unlike with Minho and Jisung, you couldn't blow up at her or snap. Not just because she was your boss, but because Mrs. Kim was probably the sweetest woman alive, and you could never bear saying anything remotely rude towards her. 

"Seungmin isn't my boyfriend, Mrs. Kim," you replied politely as you checked a book for rips or printing errors before putting it into the newly growing pile. 

"He's not? But he's always looking after you, dear!" Mrs. Kim looked almost offended by your denial, which was exactly what you were trying to avoid. 

You shuffled uncomfortably,  "Well, we've been best friends for years, and his mom would kill him if he didn't take care of me,” you quickly fumbled for an excuse and smiled like you were being forced to take a yearbook photo or pose with the sun hitting your eyes. 

"I've never seen a best friend spend his whole paycheck getting their friend a limited edition of a book series they were dying to get," Mrs. Kim pointed out rather dryly. Where was this sass coming from? Was this really the same woman that fed you homemade pastries on your first day of work? It certainly didn't feel like it. 

"He only bought it because I was practically nagging him for months,” your excuses became more relaxed as you let them spill off your lips more. After all, they've lived in your head for the last seven years. It was just like dusting off an old notebook. 

"Oh, this is ridiculous," Mrs. Kim threw her hands up in utter exasperation as she barked, "Hyunjin!" 

The poor boy almost dropped the pile of books he was carrying as his head whipped up to look at Mrs. Kim with a panicked expression. He never really got over the trauma of spilling tea all over Mrs. Kim's favorite book even though she forgave him after a day of sulking. 

"Yes?" he squeaked, his eyes wide as he was probably preparing himself to die at the hands of your boss. It would be almost funny how afraid Hyunjin was of a sixty year old woman if you weren't just as terrified of her when she barked your name. 

"Who's Y/N dating?" she asked. 

Hyunjin's panicked expression all but vanished as he realized that he wasn't the one in trouble, and he answered matter-of-factly as he glanced over at you, "Seungmin. Why?" 

You sputtered in indignation. First Jisung, then Minho, and now Hyunjin, too? 

"We're not dating!" You exclaimed for what was probably the twentieth time in the last two hours alone. 

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, "Please, you're not fooling anybody here." 

You gawked at Hyunjin, unsure whether you wanted to sock him in the face or rat him out to Changbin for replacing the rapper's shampoo with pink dye, "What in the world gave you the idea that we're together?" 

"Y/N, you two literally hold hands unironically," Hyunjin pointed out. 

"Friends do that all the time!" 

"He ditches us in an instant whenever you call him to hang out." 

"That's because you guys see each other every day, and I only get to see him on the weekends." 

"He was literally draped around you during movie night last weekend." 

"Maybe he's just touchy." 

Hyunjin glanced at you with a skeptical eyebrow, immediately calling out your bullshit, "You didn't seriously call Kim Seungmin a touchy person, did you?" 

You looked away scowling, because Hyunjin always had an uncanny knack for seeing through people's masks. Especially with you;  you knew he always suspected your hidden feelings for your best friend, even when the rest of his friends were happily oblivious. 

Mrs. Kim raised a disbelieving eyebrow, "Are you so against the idea of dating him? Because let me tell you, as a girl that hooked up with boys left and right during my prime time-" 

"Oh my god, Mrs. Kim, I really didn't need to hear that," you groaned in mortification, covering your flushed face with a book. 

"He's one of the good ones," Mrs. Kim finished before glancing at you with a bemused smile, "If it's not because you don't want him, then what's the problem, dear?" 

You felt cornered. It wasn't fair. Hyunjin and Mrs. Kim were looking at you like they knew everything when they didn't. They didn’t know how much you’ve pined over this man, how much carefully crafted effort and time you’ve spent trying desperately to get over him. 

"I don't want to think that I'm special and then have to wake up to the cruel realization that I'm not," you said flatly,  although from the shift in Hyunjin's expression, he could hear the pained inflection hidden in your voice. 

He opened his mouth to say something probably reassuring when Mrs. Kim interrupted, “So it's fear. What are you afraid is going to happen?”

This was definitely the wrong time to be having a conversation like this, during working hours when you were supposed to probably be helping customers. But there was no one in the store and no one outside about to come in either, so you couldn't help but be a little revealing.

“We don't go to the same school anymore,” you explained uncomfortably, “If he hasn't already, he'll probably meet someone kinder, gentler, softer than I could ever be. I don't even have the advantage of time on my side now.” 

“Okay, first off,” Hyunjin interrupted, glancing at Mrs. Kim and then back at you, “Seungmin has never looked at anyone the way he looks at you. He's totally hung up on you, just like he was back in high school." 

"You don't know that," you muttered, fumbling with your fingers. 

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, "Don't tell me what I know and don't know. I literally see him checking his messages for your replies at least twice every ten minutes." 

“Stop it,” you snapped, looking at him, eyes blazing, “Stop making this sound obvious. You don’t have any right to act like a fucking love expert when all everyone does is fawn over you--”

“Okay, both of you need to cool off. We’re still in a bookstore here,” Mrs. Kim glared at Hyunjin who immediately lost his high horse attitude and ducked away to keep working.

"Darling," Mrs. Kim took your hands in hers, the anger on her face softening into an expression akin to sympathy, "I don't know what you've gone through to think that you're not worthy, but take it from the words of an old woman. If a boy is waiting for you to get off of work with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, chances are that he thinks of you as more than a friend." 

You blinked at her in confusion before following her line of sight, and your heart did a weird backflip as you saw none other than Kim Seungmin, standing outside of the bookstore with a sheepish smile and bouquet of roses in his hands. 

.

This was definitely the strangest day of your life, you thought as you sat directly across from Seungmin, absently admiring the rose petals. It was one thing for Seungmin to take you out for dinner (he always liked spending his big fat paycheck from interning at that fancy tech company), but the flowers threw you off. 

Weren’t roses meant for dates? Was this a date? You looked around at the lavish restaurant, the candlelit atmosphere and the plethora of couples eating around you.

No, definitely not a date.

"Are you alright?" Seungmin asked with the gentle smile he only showed you. Funny, was it Hyunjin corrupting your mind, or did Seungmin's eyes sparkle when you looked at him? 

You nodded, carefully putting down the flowers on the ground underneath your chair to make sure no one accidentally steps on them, "Yeah, I just had a weird day." 

"Weird how?" Seungmin reached for your hand that was resting on the table, causing your stomach to do a somersault. Damn those stupid boys who just don't know when to keep their mouths shut! You just can't stop overthinking things anymore! 

Wait. Now that you think about it, no thanks to those little shits, Seungmin has been abnormally affectionate the last few times you've hung out, holding your hand, letting you rest your head on his shoulder when you got tired, even full on cuddling with you when Jisung hosted a group movie night at his apartment. You'd reasoned it all in your head that he was probably just going through his more clingy phases, but now thinking back, Seungmin never liked to cuddle, even in his most clingy moments. And yet, he'd wordlessly pulled you to his chest that movie night as if he'd wanted you to cuddle with him all his life, even when his friends were around.

“Y/N?” He prompted gently, his eyes now filled with a hint of concern as he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

The rational part of you wanted to just forget this whole thing. The boys say dumb shit all the time; how can this be any different? It would be so simple, so easy for you to just do as you’ve always done when it came to your feelings and run away. 

But your heart, your lonely heart that has known nothing but secret glances and unrequited love was aching to take a chance. Minho, Jisung, and Hyunjin were idiots, but they weren’t cruel. They wouldn’t give you this false hope for nothing.

And for the first time, your heart won over, and you decided to be honest.

“Well, the boys keep saying that we’re dating,” you chuckled sheepishly, trying not to focus on Seungmin’s hand wrapped around yours.

To your surprise, Seungmin’s eyes grow wide as saucers as he all but squeaked, “They what now?” 

You blinked, trying to be too taken aback by his reactions, “Minho and Jisung just yabbering on about us, and Hyunjin didn’t bat an eye when my boss asked him who I was dating,” you glanced at him, throwing caution to the wind as you asked hesitantly, “You don’t happen to know about this, right?”

Seungmin might as well have held up a giant flashing sign that said he absolutely knew about it. His ears grew bright red, redder than you’ve ever seen them turn, and he stammered for a moment, trying to find his words, “I-I--um--I told them not to use that plan.”

The carefully crafted excuse to get both of you out of this awkward situation that you held on the tip of your tongue immediately disintegrated, “W-what plan?” you stuttered out in disbelief. 

Seungmin looked almost crushed as he pulled his hand out of yours, putting his head in his hands as he rested his arms on the table, “This stupid plan they made for me to ask you out,” he muttered, and if your hearing was ever so slightly worse, you would’ve missed those words completely.

“Why would you need a plan to ask me out?” you asked, and your heart could almost leap out of your chest at this point. It felt horrid waiting, waiting for the confession or the rejection. You’d almost regretted opening this can of worms when Seungmin suddenly looked up at you, his expression distraught.

“Why?” he repeated, smiling bitterly, “Was I really so out of your league that you didn’t notice how in love with you I’ve been this entire time?”

Your mind went blank and it felt as if someone had yanked the ground out from under you. This whole image of unrequited affection, this whole idea that you were never good enough for Seungmin to even look your way, it was all a farce, a con that was now being torn apart by his simple question.

“S-seungminnie,” your voice refused to work the way you wanted it to, and you stumbled over your words, “I didn’t know--I’m so sorry--I had no idea…”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Seungmin immediately sounded concerned as he watched you fall apart in front of him, “You didn’t do anything wrong, you have nothing to be sorry for--”

“I thought I wasn’t good enough for you!” You blurted out, looking into his warm, brown eyes as the shame bubbled out of your chest and you lowered your head, “I thought...I thought you would find someone better than me at your new university, at your new job.”

Seungmin sighed, and he reached over, resting to fingers under your chin and tilting your head up to look at him as he smiled, “There’s no one else I want except you,” he whispered, and you could’ve sworn your heart combusted right there.

And when Seungmin took you to the Christmas lights after dinner, the bouquet of roses still in your arms as he pressed his soft lips against yours, you couldn’t wait to go up to your friends the next day and proudly declare that yes, you were absolutely dating Kim Seungmin.

(and maybe give them a Starburst for making it happen.)

.

a/n: im sorry im rereading this and it’s trash plsdontkillme

#inkidz #districtninewriters #stayhavennet #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids drabbles #stray kids reactions #skz oneshots #skz reactions #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz blurbs #stray kids blurbs #kim seungmin imagines #kim seungmin scenarios #seungmin drabbles #skz x reader #skz x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids #my fics

[vitaliciouscreations]

Drop of Paradise - Part Seven

First | Previous | Next

Getting home had been… well, let’s just say it had been a challenge for Marinette.

Considering Marinette’s home was just across the street from François-Dupont, it being a challenge to get from one place to the other was pretty unusual. Unusual, though, was the perfect word to describe the sight Marinette had found herself confronted with when she’d tried to leave the school.

Usually, the street separating the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie and François-Dupont was, well, a street. Cars drove down it, pedestrians walked on it, you know. But just a few hours ago it had looked far more like… well, saying it had looked like a can of sardines was probably the most accurate. But, like, if the can was a street, and the sardines were reporters.

Okay, so maybe that wasn’t Marinette’s best metaphor, but the point still stood! The street had been packed so full of reporters some had literally been crawling over each other, while others viciously tried to elbow each other out of the way, all to get just a little bit closer to the front entrance of François-Dupont.

Marinette had never been more grateful that her time as Ladybug had familiarized her with all of François-Dupont’s exits. She doubted she would have made it out of there otherwise. Even now, there were reporters clogging the streets, interviewing Marinette’s teachers and classmates and anybody even remotely in the area and willing to talk to them. Marinette had made it out safely only because she had plenty of practice in sneaking off unnoticed by now, and even then it had been difficult.

Tiān revealing itself to the world was a big deal, of course. Marinette knew that. And she’d learned from Alya that pretty much every news media company on the planet was going wild about it. But today had been nothing more than a silly school presentation, given by Marinette, a girl nobody knew was Ladybug. So Marinette hadn’t really expected such a media frenzy about it.

Her mistake, she supposed. If Alya had been there, she wondered, would she have known to expect it?

And there it was. Yup. Marinette was still upset about her friends missing her presentation. And honestly, she was pretty sure she was going to be upset about it for a while? She’d tried to talk herself through it after getting home, but she’d failed to rationalize her hurt feelings away. And it really didn’t help that one of her friends had texted her a picture of the entire group, including Lila, having fun without her.

She had other texts besides that one, though. One that had been sent during her presentation, from Luka, wishing her luck. And one from Kagami that she’d received after she’d gotten home, congratulating her on her presentation and reminding her to eat something filling. Marinette had actually already eaten lunch, incidentally, but she didn’t really feel up to telling Kagami the real reason she’d collapsed during her presentation, so she’d just texted back a promise to take it easy on herself for the rest of the day. Those two texts didn’t soothe the sting of her classmates ditching her presentation, but they did make Marinette feel better regardless.

“Marinette!” her father’s voice called from downstairs, actually startling her a little bit. “One of your friends is here to see you!”

Marinette’s heart jumped into her throat. Luka? He normally texted before coming over, though. And Marinette doubted it would be Kagami, either, so then—!

Marinette jumped up and rushed for the trapdoor on the floor of her room. Then she paused, and nearly tripped over her own feet as she rushed back to her mirror and hastily peered at her reflection. Her eyes weren’t noticeably red, there were no tear tracks on her face, and her clothes were only slightly wrinkled. Marinette nodded at her reflection and tugged at her skirt to straighten it as she pulled up the trapdoor and rushed down the stairs. And there—

There.

There.

Standing in the middle of Marinette’s living room, looking far more innocent than she had any right to, was Lila Rossi.

“I have something else to do, so I’ll leave you two girls alone,” Marinette’s papa said, oblivious to Marinette’s rapid shift in mood. Marinette glared at Lila as he hustled out of the room, and Lila simply smiled at her in return.

“Hey Marinette,” Lila said, her demeanor her usual act of a sweet, friendly girl. “Here, I brought you something.”

Lila stepped forward and held out a paper towards Marinette. Marinette didn’t want to take it, unreasonably suspicious that it had some sort of deadly poison on it, and more reasonably suspicious that something horrible was written on it. Marinette eyed it cautiously for several long seconds, and Lila’s fake sweet smile stayed in place the entire time.

Finally, Marinette sntached the paper and turned it over, scanning the words written there. Instead of some sort of awful message, it was just…

Eden is an isolated city high in the Kunlun Mountains. It’s existence has been kept secret for several millennia now because of the locals' fear of the outside world.

“It’s a study guide,” Lila said, drawing Marinette’s attention up from the page. “Sabrina was kind enough to write one out for you while we were all out getting ice cream. It was certainly a much better time than standing around and listening to your boring presentation about your so-called heritage.” Lila laughed, her sweet act dropping to the ground and shattering into a million pieces. “At least that’s what Adrien said when we were all having fun without you.”

“No he didn’t!” Marinette snapped.

“Didn’t he?” Lila asked. “I guess you’ll never know since you weren’t there. Everyone else was, though. All of your precious friends. I told you before, didn’t I? I’m going to take them from you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Marinette’s hands clenched into fists. The “study guide” Lila had handed her crumpled loudly in her grip. “They’re not so easy to manipulate, Lila. They’ll see through you eventually!”

“Oh, will they?” Lila taunted. “I barely even had to try to get them to come along with me today. You know what I think? I think they didn’t even care about seeing your stupid presentation in the first place, even though all of them knew how much it mattered to you. The second I said anything about leaving they all jumped on board. Max even talked about how failing one test wouldn’t ruin any of their grades, and you know how much he cares about his test scores.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not!” Lila insisted. “You just can’t accept the truth; none of your “friends” think of you as anything more than a meal ticket, so to speak. And they’re right! You’re very useful when it comes to free sweets or clothing, but when it comes to actually hanging out with you? Ha! It’s barely worth it.”

“Why would I believe anything you say?” Marinette snarled.

Lila smiled at her way too innocently. “Why wouldn’t you believe me? I mean, if your friends were really your friends, they would have stayed for your presentation today, right?”

“That’s your fault!”

“Oh please.” Lila rolled her eyes. “It’s not like I dragged them out of the cafeteria kicking and screaming. They all agreed to come with me of their own free will. Even Adrien.”

Marinette was shaking. Not trembling, but shaking. Shaking with rage as she did her best to stop herself from doing something she’d regret, though what that something was, she didn’t know yet.

Lila took a step closer to her, an absolutely insufferable smirk on her face. “By the way, Alix wants those pajama shorts you promised her. She said it’s really annoying that you can’t even do the one thing you’re good for in a timely manner. And I agree with her. I mean really, two weeks for a pair of shorts? Honestly, it’s no wonder they’re all reconsidering whether to keep pretending to be your friend.”

“Shut up!” Marinette snapped, lunging forward and getting in Lila’s space.

A crooked grin crossed Lila’s face, making her look downright devilish. She looked at Marinette with expectant eyes, and that, if nothing else, reminded Marinette to rein in her temper.

She wrestled with it; it really wasn’t easy to get her anger under control when there was this much of it, and especially not with Lila still standing there. Marinette could see something in Lila’s face, though. She’d definitely riled up Marinette for a reason; she was expecting to get something out of it. Marinette had no idea what that something was, but she did not want to give Lila what she wanted.

“Goodbye, Lila,” Marinette said, her voice strained. Neither of them moved, except Lila’s face twitched. Her smile looked a little less pleased.

“Goodbye?” she echoed.

“Get out of my house,” Marinette ordered.

Lila smirked. “Or what?”

“Papa!” Marinette shouted. Lila visibly straightened up, looking nervous. Marinette’s father was one of the gentlest men in all of Paris, but Lila didn’t know Marinette or her family well enough to know that her father’s large frame was mostly deceptive.

“Fine,” Lila snarled. She turned on her heel and stomped out the door. Not five seconds later, Marinette’s papa rushed into the room.

“Something I can do for you, sweetheart?” he asked. “Oh, where’d your friend go?”

“She’s not my friend,” Marinette said quickly, not wanting to get into it. “And I just wanted… a hug.”

“Oh sweetheart,” her father said, stepping forward and pulling Marinette into a warm, comfortably tight bear hug. “You can have one of those whenever you like.”

Okay, so it’s been a while. I just left this one alone for a while, but I always intended to keep going with it, and the support I got even during my hiatus only encouraged me more. So I kept going with it.

Tell me if you want to be added or removed from the tag list.

@miraculous-of-salt​, @plushbookworm​, @captainmac6​, @unmaskedagain​, @crazylittlemunchkin​, @mochinek0​, @diamondheart31​, @schrodingers25​, @northernbluetongue​, @heaven428​, @starberry-mina​, @kennyfuckingdiedagain​, @asandygraves​, @souleateralicestein​ , @sleepdeprivedbarelyalived​, @saphiraazure2708​, @vixen-uchiha​, @procrasinatingrightnow​, @gaylord1027​, @theg0ddesspersephone​, @onegaybookworm​, @geminikessa​, @moonlitarchangels​, @sassydepression​, @emjrabbitwolf​, @clumsy-owl-4178​, @missjuliaducky​, @un1cornf1ghter​, @sealy4321​, @ravennightingaleandavatempus​, @sofmimis​, @ladybug-182​, @yin-390​, @jessigurl-design​, @gentlemanoftimetravel​, @cynicalwonders​, @destinationdesignation​, @sharksharkbb​, @akalovelymaybe​, @nonasficcollection​, @fairiewalker​, @chrismarium​, @actual-disaster-human​, @purplesundaze​, @the-one-woman-army​, @loveswifi​, @elmokingkong​, @aestheticnpoetic​, @cupcakeandkisses​, @thewondersoflebanon​, @magic-miraculous​, @ladylupa​, @shreky-boi​, @foxy-pumpkin-princess​, @the7thg​, @mariae2900​, @fandomkitty8​, @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl​, @kae690​, @ljj-tm​, @chaosace​, @novicevoice​, @naomi-from-paleontology​, @jeminiikrystal​, @sofmimis​,  @lunaraquaenby, @miraculous-anna, @vanillacoffee-bean, @my-only-friend-is-a-potato, @the-navistar-carol, @bigpicklebananatree, @xxvanilla-thundaxx, @shoushig, @rowanrouge,

#marinette dupain cheng #miraculous ladybug #ml salt #ml salt fic #drop of paradise #lila rossi #lila salt #anti lila

[mahalidael]

Those Familiar Spirits

(*sprints up to the podium* FIRST FLYNN FANFIC. sort of. if you don’t count the phantomrose96 one, but flynn doesn’t actually appear in that one so make of it what you will)

Danny was two years old when the police came to their house. He must have thought the flashing lights were fireworks; he ran outside alone to look.

He saw uniforms, a funny black and white car, and a great deal of shouting between the grown-ups. It was July, and very muggy. Flies buzzed around the police cars’ lights as Mom and Dad talked very quietly, and Aunt Alicia yelled, and the police said ma’am, please, we’re trying to help, could you just, ma’am. Ma’am.

Danny ran up to get a better look but was promptly swept up by a police officer and carried back inside as he craned his neck to hear what they were saying.

Mom went inside for a minute and made him and Jazz sit on the couch. She told them gravely, “We’re just going to talk to the nice policemen, okay? Don’t go out there.”

Danny huffed. Jazz noticed his irritation and spoke up. “Can we watch TV if we stay inside?”

“Mm-hm,” said Mom, looking out the window at the lights again, already standing up and gravitating towards them.

Jazz reached for the TV remote and hit the power button with an ease that a four year old will only exhibit when provided with sufficiently busy parents. Danny started chewing on his shirt sleeve as images flashed on the screen; they were big kid cartoons that he had no interest in.

“Mom?” said Jazz, peeking up over the back of the couch.

Mom paused in the doorway and addressed one of the policemen before turning back to Jazz. “Just a second — yeah?”

“Where’s Flynn? He likes this show.”

“Um,” said Mom.

She cleared her throat.

“That’s what the policemen are going to help us with. I’m sure he’ll be back before it’s over.”

Their cousin was not back before it was over. He wasn’t back at all, but this, like most everything else from when he was two years old, fell through Danny’s memory like it was water.

...

Jack had been wary of his sister-in-law coming over for a week. He’d also been wary when Maddie described her sister’s marriage as “getting better” and said that she was “calling off the divorce.”

Anyway, within two days of the visit Danny had gotten it into his head that his uncle’s name was Damn-It-Bob.

But the most disconcerting thing was that Jack couldn’t do much about the situation. Alicia was a notoriously private person, and considered the matter of her marriage between herself, Maddie, and Damn-It-Bob. Trying to get close enough to be allowed into that inner circle was an exercise in self-endangerment. He had tried exactly once in college, and the dislocated wrist he’d gotten out of that arm wrestling match nearly cost him his scholarship.

Getting through to Damn-It-Bob was even more frustrating. Alicia, at least, cared about Maddie’s studies. She didn’t understand them, but looked on with interest as Maddie expertly extracted a sample from the latest ghost specimen and held it up to the light for her sister to see.

Damn-It-Bob was worse than an outsider. He was a snob.

Damn-It-Bob looked like if Alicia didn’t already have a pickup truck, he’d drive a Prius, and if he ever tried tikka masala he’d brag about it. Jack had to assume that if Alicia married him, they had to have some kind of common ground, but damn if he couldn’t figure out what it was. And apparently neither could they.

He had a degree in aerospace engineering, which he constantly emphasized was a really useful science. Alicia didn’t even have to work at the logging company if she didn’t want to keep up the family business.

He tried to charm the kids with pictures of the rockets he’d designed. It worked on Danny, which, yeah, okay, he was two years old, but Jazz seemed to pick up his intentions and tried to steer Danny away. Jeez. If Jack left her alone for five minutes, she might be doing calculus when he came back.

And then there was the kid.

He didn’t even notice that he was there until the Walkers were standing in the living room. Jack had walked behind Alicia to hang up their coats and suddenly saw him standing right behind her.

The kid hadn’t said a word in the entire thirty-minute production of his family coming inside — or if he had, he hadn’t been listened to. He had this sort of rust-colored hair that stuck out in all directions, like they tied up a big ponytail on the top of his head and chopped it off instead of giving him a real haircut.

Getting closer,  Jack finally saw why the kid wasn’t talking. He had his nose buried in some book. Oh, so he was one of those, Jack thought. He hadn’t personally been a child who devoured books like a woodchipper, but Vlad had.

In any case, silent reading hour was over. “Hey, bucko!” said Jack. The kid nearly jumped out of his skin, one hand snapping the book shut like a cell phone at the end of a tense call. “Thirsty for knowledge, I see? We’ve got more down in the lab.”

He shrunk away. Alicia noticed and put a hand on his shoulder as she turned her attention away from Maddie. “—so that’s how the union settled. And you two remember Flynn, right?” she said, ruffling the kid’s hair. “We brought him to Danny’s baby shower. He was so shy back then you thought the table was set by a ghost for a solid thirty minutes.”

Maddie’s eyes landed on Flynn and lit up in recognition. “Oh, yeah! I remember. You were at least a head shorter last time we saw you.”

Flynn nodded, staring at his shoes. He hugged the book to his chest like it was a stuffed animal.

Alicia and her husband chuckled politely. “Well, you might have seen him earlier if you didn’t pull out your toys to try and find that ghost,” said her husband, less politely.

“Bob, could you please be civil?” Alicia said under her breath.

“The event was delayed by an hour and we missed our flight over a bunch of—”

“Damn it, Bob—”

“It was a poltergeist, technically,” Maddie laughed nervously, stepping between them, a note of oh lord not this again in her voice.

“Hey, kids, how about we go down to the basement and check out some cool gadgets?” Jack was itching to take Flynn and the children downstairs. He had to ditch the conversation before it went south. “Wanna see what ghost bones look like?”

Flynn actually looked like he was going to respond to that, but Damn-It-Bob cut in. “Flynn probably wouldn’t be interested in theoretical science. He likes studying useful things.”

Yeah, ectoscience was theoretical. You could tell it was bad because it was italicized.

Jack resisted the urge to get passive-aggressive right back. Not in front of the children. “There’s plenty of physical things in the lab that I’m sure Flynn’s gonna love. Every kid loves lasers. Right, Danny?” he queried his son, who was chewing on the leg of the coffee table.

Danny blew a raspberry, which he assumed was a yes. Jack managed to whisk them away before the Walkers started swearing at each other.

He put Jazz and Danny down in the little area of the lab that they’d sectioned off with a foldable plastic dog gate, where Jazz made herself busy putting all the crayons in a straight line before Danny picked them up and started scribbling on the rubber tiled floor.

“So, Flynn! We’ve got some whosits and whatsits to check out. That catches ghosts,” Jack said, pointing at the gadgets skewed across the counter like exploded, “this blasts ghosts, that catches and blasts ghosts, and this is a hot dog maker. What do you wanna see first?”

Flynn shrugged and shuffled an inch backwards.

Okay, this wasn’t going anywhere. Which was odd — they’d opened up the ops center to tourists in the past for alternate revenue, and kids always seemed to be the most excited about the gadgets.

Plan B, he guessed. “What’s that book about, anyway?” he said.

Flynn hesitantly held out the book. Jack took it. It was a big, heavy book, with a hard cover titled The Collected Jack London. Jack went to open it to a random page, but was interrupted when his leafing caused something to fall out from between the pages.

It was a flower. Flynn quickly snatched it off the floor and took his book back, scowling. “It’s sabatia geu — sabatia geutianoides,” he muttered. “It’s one of the rarest flowers in Arkansas, so I can’t pick another one.” He then very carefully flipped to another page in the book, counting the page numbers in whispers until he found the one he was looking for and slipped the flower back inside.

Ah. He could work with that. “Really? Is it the rarest one you’ve got?” he said, posing a challenge.

“Uh, I have Stern’s medlar, but just a leaf I got off the ground. They’re cruh — crit — crit-i-cal-ly endangered.”

“We’ve got some samples of a pretty rare plant ourselves.”

Flynn’s eyes lit up. “Can I see them?”

Jack took Flynn off into a side room. This room was mostly like the last, though being closed to visitors, it was far less organized. He picked Flynn up and lifted him over a heap of spare parts on the floor. “Watch your step.”

A cacophony of containers were heaped on a table in the center of the room. Only a few of them were planter pots that they’d already owned; the rest were old shoeboxes and burned-out pots and pans. They were all filled with soil. Their occupants stretched their purple-black stems towards the overhead sun lamp.

“Rosa sanguinea, also known as the Massachusetts blood blossom,” said Jack. “They were grown in the 1600s — apparently they release an anti-ghost vapor. Unfortunately, we can’t prove whether it works, since we don’t have any intact ghosts to test it on, but they’re delicious.”

“That’s so weird.” Flynn rubbed a black leaf between his fingers, as if he expected the color to come off. “Roses aren’t normally hardy enough to grow inside. And the leaves are naturally black?”

“Yep. Well, maybe. We think they were mutated by long-term exposure to ecto-energy. The biggest patch of them is around Salem, and that place is a hotspot for the natural portals to the dimension ghosts live in,” he said, pointing at the pictures of such that they’d pinned to the corkboard across the room. Jack himself couldn’t believe some of the places that they’d found natural portals in. One of the pictures on the corkboard was of a portal they’d found in a public toilet. “They’re stubborn little buggers, but only in ecto-energized soil — we had to cart the dirt in these pots all the way back from Massachusetts.”

Jack snapped his fingers.

“I’ve got an idea.” He picked up a blood blossom growing in a mason jar and handed it to Flynn. “That’s yours now. Take it back to Arkansas, and it’ll protect you from ghosts.”

“Really?” said Flynn, seemingly more awestruck by the plant itself than any properties it might’ve had. “I can have it?”

“All yours! After all, who knows when you might need it?”

...

Flynn hadn’t wanted to leave Arkansas. He hadn’t wanted to sit in Mom’s funny-smelling truck for ten-odd hours while listening to them argue about money, and ghosts, and damn it Bob, would it kill you to put the toilet paper in the holder the right way just once?

At some of the rest stops, Flynn had stood in the bathroom and stared in the mirror. The door was right behind him and Dad hadn’t left the stall yet. He could just turn around and run into the woods, so Mom and Dad would talk about something other than their horrible marriage.

Because Flynn was ten years old, and the problem that he saw was nothing as complex as an incompatibility of personality, or people growing apart. The problem he saw was that they needed to shut up about the divorce.

That was all he wanted. Something to come in and make them shut up, and make the divorce go away, and put things back where they were supposed to be.

But obviously that’s not how things work. Flynn went outside and picked dandelions that were growing at the edge of the parking lot, and he held them outside the window while they were driving so the seeds would scatter all along the road, and he still ended up visiting Uncle Jack and Aunt Maddie in New York, and Mom and Dad were still fighting over stupid stuff.

Flynn kept trying to put off the tour. He knew that Dad would hate the lab. He stuck with real things, metal and chalk numbers — never mind that one of the major points of contention was the slew of Young Living boxes sitting in their garage. A better statement was that Dad rejected any science he didn’t think he could exploit. Like, son, wildflowers are nice and all, but you know that the real money’s in saffron, right? It sells for twenty-five hundred a pop and it’s not getting any cheaper. Just think about it, son.

“ —converts ectoplasm into a power source.” Aunt Maddie was showing them something embedded in the lab wall. Flynn didn’t really like ectoscience either, but that was mostly because the topic freaked him out. He didn’t like when his friends played that pencil game that let you talk to ghosts, much less when his uncle talked about ripping them apart mmmolecule by mmmolecule.

It just felt kind of rude. They were people, at some point. Everyone knew a dead person.

“Quaint,” said Dad, turning over the hot dog maker he had found on the counter. “Very quaint.” It was his usual word of condemnation. “What’s that hole in the wall?”

It was barely a hole. Not so much because of size, but because it was so badly occupied by a tangle of wire that actually entering it would be impossible. Aunt Maddie said: “Our prototype for a stable portal into the ghost zone.” Dad scoffed, but she smiled tightly and ignored it. “With a reliable and stationary portal, we can collect data faster.”

“And it took you ten years to think of that?”

“Bob, if you don’t want to see it, you can just wait in the guest room,” said Mom, rubbing her temples.

“No, it’s fine, Alicia.” Aunt Maddie sighed. “We’ve been thinking of it. It just took this long to make sure building a portal large enough for a human to enter would be safe. A few years ago, a friend of ours was injured by one that wasn’t any bigger than a car tire — precautions needed to be taken—”

Dad put up his hand in a ‘halt’ gesture. “So, wait. You know that those things can hurt people, and yet you build a big one in your basement, and let your kids in here ?”

“They’re at a safe distance — they’re not even on the same side of the lab,” said Aunt Maddie, eyes narrow.

“Oh, thank goodness you let your toddlers play some paces away from a potential biohazard! ” Dad threw up his hands in fake relief. “I guess that makes it okay, then!”

Aunt Maddie looked like she was gearing up to shout. But she glanced at her kids in their little corner hutch, and seemed to think better of it. “Look, Bob, I — help me understand. Five minutes ago you were calling ghosts ‘fairy tales,’ and now you’re getting on about potentially endangering my children with something that, by your own logic, shouldn’t do anything. What’s your real problem?”

“My ‘real problem’ is that, ghosts or not — and there are certainly not — the fact that someone got hurt at all tells me that you’re tampering with something that you don’t understand—”

“Bob, that’s enough —”

Seed dispersion was one of the fundamental adaptations of the plant world. A seed that dropped straight down from its parent plant was a dead seed. It wouldn’t be able to access sufficient nutrition, water, or light so close.

Mom exiled him and Dad from the lab so she could have a good talk with Aunt Maddie. Uncle Jack awkwardly let them sit on the couch and watch NCIS with him.

“I just think that pseudoscience has no place in being the primary income for a family,” said Dad.

Uncle Jack nodded with a poorly disguised grimace.

“Anyway, have you heard that lavender has anti-autism properties?”

Uncle Jack suddenly excused himself to go to the bathroom. Luckily, Dad seemed to think that the distant laughter was coming from the TV.

Dandelions had a nasty taxonomy. They were wind-dispersed, able to fly up to sixty miles away from their parent plant, where they isolated and readily speciated. This was a large part of the reason why Flynn couldn’t appreciate them without every adult in an eighty-mile radius screaming it’s a weed!

By Sunday, Mom and Dad couldn’t be in the same room together without shouting.

By Wednesday, they wouldn’t speak to each other at all.

By Saturday, they started calling the divorce lawyer again.

That night before they went back to Arkansas, Flynn slept on his aunt and uncle’s couch. He could hear Mom and Dad talking in the guest room above. At indoor voice levels. He didn’t know whether that was good or bad.

The potted blood blossom sat on the end table atop Jack London.

He was woken up at two in the morning when something spritzed him in the face like he was a cat. Flynn squinted in the darkness for what it could be and was immediately spritzed again. He wiped the spray off his face and jolted at the sight of a red smear on his wrist.

A faint hiss was coming from the end table. Flynn watched as the blood blossom emitted a quiet red steam into the air.

He looked around the room nervously. Then he looked out the front window.

At the very end of the street, between the buildings, there was a faint green glow that looked very much like Uncle Jack’s pictures.

Well, of course dandelions were weeds. When something survived too well, humans inevitably got all up in their business, trying to trammel them in. It was a weed because it didn’t cooperate with that.

Flynn didn’t need to pack his bag; he had already loaded everything from the trip back in, but he added some more anyway. He got a knife, a frying pan, and a BIC lighter out of the kitchen. And of course, he took his book and the blood blossom.

Then he walked out the front door for the last time.

It was a muggy July night, and all the lights in the windows were out. The streetlamps pooled in the road. The green light creeped into the alleyway on tiptoe.

Flynn stood before a hole in the world and found himself alone. The hole didn’t appear to properly occupy the alley. It looked like a bad photoshop in person. Just standing a foot away from it, he could feel the static electricity. It felt like it was ruffling his hair in a gesture of approval.

There was a deep hum that might have been the portal, or the flies buzzing around it, or Flynn’s heart getting ready to tear itself from his chest in excitement or fear. He did not know which.

The blood blossom was beginning to overflow its mason jar with red condensation. Flynn poured it out onto the ground. It mixed with the dank puddles in the mundane depressions of the concrete that, absurdly, continued to exist in the presence of something so otherworldly.

Flynn reached through the portal. It felt like cold water — strange, but not icy enough to be unpleasant.

This was what he needed. Something he didn’t know, somewhere his parents couldn’t find him. He could find shelter with those familiar spirits for a little while, and his blood blossom would protect him as his parents looked for him, and then he would come back and they would be so happy and angry to see him that they wouldn’t talk about the divorce again for another year at least, and it would be nice, and it would just be so nice, it would just be so nice when he got back.

And then the light consumed his vision.

...

Twelve years later.

“Jazz? Did you just come through the portal?” Danny squinted at the readout on the specter speeder — the constant green light of the ghost zone made it hard to read at times.

“No?” she said over the speeder’s radio. “I’m still in the lab, why?”

“Because the radar’s picking up signs of life.”

#danny phantom #flynn fenton #dp #dp fanfiction #this flynn goes off the-stove-is-on-fire's version of his backstory btw #flynn walker

[thebiscuiteternal]

“Competition”

Reverse Age Nies, One-Sided Attraction, Sexual Harassment, Ancient Chinese Roofies (but nothing happens), Nie Mingjue is this close to committing murder. And his friends might help.

__________

"What has you so troubled?" 

 Nie Mingjue blinked and looked up from adjusting the fletching on his arrows to find Lan Xichen watching him with concern. A short distance away, his friends from the Jiang sect were also studying him with expressions a bit more tense than usual. 

"Nothing. I'm fine." 

Wei Wuxian openly snorted. "You usually kick our asses way easier than this. Something’s got you off your game." 

He rolled his eyes, then scratched the back of his neck with an annoyed growl. "He's doing it again." 

Lan Xichen’s eyes went wide. “Oh, no. I thought that would have stopped by now.”

"Wait," Jiang Cheng cut in. "Who's doing what again?" 

"Every time they're in the vicinity of each other, Wen-zongzhu starts eyeing my brother like a particularly nice dish at a banquet." 

Wei Wuxian's nose wrinkled. "Seriously?"   

"Watch this." 

Turning, Nie Mingjue waved to his brother up in the stands. Nie Huaisang beamed and enthusiastically waved back, and, just a couple seats away, Wen Ruohan turned his head slightly in the middle of a conversation with one of the minor sect leaders. 

There was no missing the way his gaze tracked from Nie Huaisang's raised hand down his back and then back up before he resumed whatever he and the other sect leader were discussing. 

"Oh, that's fucking creepy," Jiang Cheng muttered in disgust.

"How long has this been happening?" 

"Seven fucking years. Ever since their first meeting as fellow sect leaders. Sang-ge insists he's only doing it to provoke us into embarrassing ourselves by making accusations we can't prove." 

"Yeah, no. If that were the case, he wouldn't be doing it where other people can see it."

"Unfortunately, no one seems willing to actually call him on it," Lan Xichen pointed out, disappointment written on his face. "Even shufu only reminds him of propriety every so often." 

"Which is why I told the disciples that Sang-ge has to have at least one guard at all times until we get the hell out of here. I trust that bastard as far as sect Leader Jin could throw him."

“A fair assessment.”

---

It was well after dark when a pounding on the door startled Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng out of bed. 

"Wen Ning? What are you doing here so late?" Wei Wuxian asked, ignoring his shidi's hissed question as to how the hell he knew a Wen. 

 "I am so, so very sorry!" Wen Ning stumbled over the words and nearly his own feet as he bowed low. "But there is a problem and your room was the closest!" 

 "What kind of problem?" Jiang Cheng asked, immediately suspicious. 

 "This way." 

 The two of them glanced at each other, then followed. 

Whatever possibilities they had been considering, finding Nie-zongzhu slumped against a pillar in a daze, barely able to stay standing, wasn't it. 

"Drunk?" Wei Wuxian asked. 

Wen Ning shook his head. "I checked his eyes. This is something much worse. He needs to see a-jie, but-" 

"We'll help," Jiang Cheng said roughly. "Wei Wuxian and I can get him to his room, then one of us can keep watch while the others get Mingjue and your sister."

They took up positions on both sides, slung the barely-conscious sect leader's arms over their shoulders, and put their own around his waist. Even with the sluggishness of the drugs, one of them probably could have carried him easily, and he made only the smallest incoherent mumble of protest as they started down the hall. 

"Wasn't he supposed to have a guard already? Why the hell is he out here alone?" 

"I have a feeling that no matter what answer to that question is, we're not gonna like it, and Mingjue's gonna like it even less." 

Nie Huaisang's room was empty of anyone when they arrived. At the sight of the overturned table near the door, Wei Wuxian cursed softly. 

"What?" 

"And was already addled enough to get lost. Damn. Lucky he came our way, instead of running into a Wen guard." 

"He must have tripped over it trying to get out of the room." Which would have meant he was aware of the drugs starting to take effect. "He wasn't just wandering around, he was trying to get help." 

Actually getting their burden onto the bed proved more difficult than getting him down the hall. Whatever it was he'd been given had progressed enough that it was more like moving an oversized noodle than a person. 

But they managed, and when Wei Wuxian turned, Wen Ning had already vanished. "Okay, so who has to break this to Mingjue?" 

Jiang Cheng winced, then sighed. "I'll do it. If someone shows up to make trouble, you have a better chance of defending Nie-zongzhu." 

Wei Wuxian clapped his shidi on the shoulder with a grin. "You're a brave and noble man." 

"Shut it."

---

Nie Mingjue stood beside the bed, a positively murderous scowl on his face as he watched Wen Qing work. "Well?" 

He didn't bother fighting the urge to growl. He had absolutely no illusions as to what this was about. There was only one reason that someone here would so obviously want his brother alone and entirely unable to defend himself. "Can you purge it?"

"Frankly it's a miracle he was still on his feet at all," she said as she finished running her tests. "The combination of sedatives and muscle relaxants should have put down a horse." 

"Qi circulation would help, but with that dosage, it'll still take hours. Since there's no danger to his breathing or his heart, it would probably be better to just let him sleep it off." 

"Why not?" Nie Mingjue asked bitterly. "He has been for almost a decade." That earned a round of flinches from the rest of the room's occupants. "But I know what Sang-ge will say," he continued. "And as much as it pisses me off, he's right. We have no way of proving that it was actually Wen Ruohan or someone on his orders. It could have been Jin-zongzhu or one of the vassal sects looking to settle a score." 

"What do we do in the morning?" Jiang Cheng asked. "Sect Leader Wen can't just... get away with an attack on another sect leader." 

"If that were the case, it says nothing good about the security here," Wen Qing pointed out archly. "Wen-zongzhu would still take offense." 

Wei Wuxian looked absolutely galled. "So we have to keep quiet about this? That's horseshit!" he protested. 

 "It is horseshit," Nie Mingjue agreed. 

Wen Qing sighed. "You're... not wrong. But you're also in the middle of a stronghold not your own, with only a few disciples to back you up. Can you actually afford to piss him off?" 

Nie Mingjue gritted his teeth, and for a moment, he was damn well willing to try. But... if he lost, that would leave Huaisang alone to face someone who'd already shown he'd use the worst of underhanded tactics to get him into bed. 

He forced his jaw to unclench and his hands to relax. "No. We can't. Not yet." 

Wei Wuxian looked like he had something to say about that, but Jiang Cheng elbowed him sharply before he could run his mouth. "So what do we do?"

"I'll tell Sang-ge what happened in the morning and see if I can find out what happened to the guard. And then I'm taking over guarding him myself. There's still another day and night to go before we can leave, and if that bastard had the stones to try once, he'll probably try again." 

 "If you don't mind other sects assisting, we could take a couple of shifts," Wei Wuxian suggested. "I bet Lan Xichen would, too." 

"I'll consider it. For now, the rest of you should get back to your rooms." He hesitated for the briefest moment, then saluted sharply. "Thank you all for your assistance and good night."

---

His brother was still sleeping when the door cracked open and Jiang Cheng poked his head in. "The first event for today's at si shi, do you need one of us to take over so you can get a bath and some sleep?" 

"I bathed before bed last night," Nie Mingjue replied. "But I suppose I could use an hour nap or so." 

The other boy nodded, then vanished. Roughly a fen later, the door opened again and Lan Xichen entered with a breakfast tray. "The others explained what happened," he said as he set it down on the bedside table. "Is he alright?"

"Hasn't so much as twitched, but his breathing evened out a few hours ago. It's just a waiting game, now." 

Lan Xichen shook his head a little. "Horrible. I knew Sect Leader Wen was brazen, but this-" 

A tiny, confused noise from the bed caught their attention, and when he turned his head, Huaisang's eyes were slitted open. They still looked cloudy, though, and when Huaisang tilted his head to look at him in turn, his brother blinked several times before registering his presence. "Jue-er? What time is it?" 

"Still early," Nie Mingjue murmured, gently sweeping mussed bangs out of his brother's eyes. "Do you remember anything from last night?" 

"Anything after the banquet?" Lan Xichen clarified. 

"N... no." Huaisang put an unsteady hand to his forehead, then rubbed his eyes. "I don't. Gods, did I seriously drink that much?" 

"No!" Nie Mingjue snapped vehemently, then at the startled looks from the other two, he took a deep breath to get his anger reined in. "You didn't. Someone gave you drugged wine." 

Huaisang stared at him, the color slowly draining from his face. "What?"

"Nothing happened!" he quickly elaborated. "Some of my friends found you and got me and a physician." 

"Still... Wait, what happened to Zhang Fai?" 

"I'd like to know that myself." 

"I overheard Liu Hei telling your deputy that he didn't report in this morning." 

Huaisang groaned softly. "Fantastic. So he's either in a dungeon or a ditch somewhere, or he left on purpose." 

"He better be in a dungeon or a ditch," Nie Mingjue muttered. "And I'm taking over guarding you." 

"No. We're not arguing about it. My friends-" he nodded to Lan Xichen, "-have offered to help when I absolutely have to take a break, but I'm not letting that asshole get near you again." 

"Jue-er-" 

Huaisang sighed and reached up to swat lightly at his cheek. "Stubborn brat," he chided fondly. "Fine, then. I'm in the capable hands of you lot until we leave for home." 

"Good. And on that note," Nie Mingjue said as he rounded the bed to flop on the other side, "You're up, Xichen. Don't disappoint." 

Lan Xichen smothered a laugh with his sleeve. "I'll do my best," he said with a teasing salute as Huaisang rolled his eyes.

Satisfied, Nie Mingjue settled in, and sleep claimed him surprisingly quickly. 

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #wen ning #wen qing #lan xichen #reverse nies #fanfic

[imaginesbymk]

PINK + WHITE.

— chapter ten ; stained glass window.

summary: teresa’s permanent resignation from the peaky blinders leads her to a whole new chapter of working in an art museum. but little did she know her best life would be butchered some time later when her former lover tommy shelby gives her no choice but to return to the peaky blinders after they make new enemies, with the leader, of all people, being the man teresa fell in love with one night after a wedding reception back in post world war; luca changretta.

pairing: luca changretta x OC x tommy shelby

tags in this chapter: swearing + smoking

[ chapter index ]

A/N: I am sooooo sorry for the long hiatus! </3

This story is getting more views on Wattpad than here on Tumblr. I still love the show and Luca's my favourite villain, but as much as I want to discontinue this story, I want to get it out of the way because I have drafted a timeline of this story, including Teresa's and Luca's closure on their relationship. So I'm stuck in the middle on what to do???

BTW, I've come up with a headcanon for Luca's full name as Luca LaPaglia Changretta! His middle name is never revealed in the show, I just did this for the fic.

RIP Helen McCrory. You were one of my favourite stars of the show. Fly high <3. The Peaky fandom will miss you so much.

///

TERESA wasn't as religious as the next person, but she kept her respect as her heels echoed down the aisle, immediately spotting the tall man kneeling on one of the pues. His hands were folded in prayer, and he murmured what the Welsh could make out to be Italian tongue.

"Do you want to be alone?" she asks.

Luca pauses, his eyes still shut and hands still in folds. "No. I want you here."

Teresa slides over and sits next to her lover, staring at the giant crucifix behind the front podium. "How often do you pray, amore?"

Luca pauses his prayer again. "Almost every day. God and I keep in touch, y'know."

"What does he say to you?"

"He tells me to tell you to quit interrupting until I'm done talking to Him." Teresa chuckles, prompting her to let him finish. As it took another good minute for Luca to conclude his prayer, Teresa gazed at the stained glass windows on each side, casting a good light from the clouds that allowed a bit of sun for England, some of it casted its light onto Luca, like an angel on an opera stage.

Luca makes a sign of the cross, sitting back on the pue and grunting a bit from kneeling for a while. "How was lunch with Mamma?"

Teresa nodded. "It was lovely."

"Just lovely?"

"Mhm." She holds his hand. "She says your middle name is LaPaglia."

Luca hums, kissing her hand that curled with his. "C'mon, I wanna take you out with me for wine."

"Hmm... Luca LaPaglia Changretta," She said out loud, admiring the beauty of his full name slipping from her lips. "And I had wine with your mother."

"I meant wine shopping. I'm doing most of the taste tests, it's my cousin's birthday soon."

"Then shouldn't he be the one shopping for wine?" she asks.

The Italian pulls the heavy door, escorting Teresa out of the church and into the chauffeur. "He counts on me, I'm better at choosing wine and gin these days."

"ARTHUR, quit pacing. You'll burn your legs out."

"Where the fuck is she?" Arthur grunts. "Eh? Tom, you're really in it for this one. The fuckin' Welsh is not gonna live up to a fuckin' promise."

"You stop that, she's on her way," Tommy takes a sip of his drink.

A split-second passes as the maid knocks on the heavy office door. "Mr. Shelby?" the feminine voice calls softly. "Miss Griffith is here to see you."

Tommy gives a smug look to Arthur and Polly. "Yes. Send her in," he says. They waited for the woman to walk in, kind of wishing for Tommy to immediately scold her once she stepped foot into his office, but Tommy wasn't up to waste that much energy.

Arthur was the one to step in and do so, otherwise. "What? Did you stroll around Manchester or something?"

"Sorry," Teresa frowns, her face reading she wasn't holding any joy from her day so far. "I was with Luca."

"We're all ears," Polly walked around Tommy's desk. "What's happened? Did he fuck you until you forgot how to tell time?"

"I'm assuming Finn told you?" she asks.

"That's Finn for you, Teresa," Arthur points out.

Teresa rolls her eyes. No point of getting back at him this time. Rat or not, he would never hold back a word from the family. She remembered seeing him appear at the gallery, and he wasn't going to keep a secret from Tommy.

"I invited him for a meeting at a bar...then he took me to the theatre..." Teresa trails off.

Tommy opens his cigarette pack. "Go on."

"That's all, Mr. Shelby."

"You slept with Luca Changretta, just say it."

Teresa folded her arms. "Actually, yes. But earlier events prove what I'm about to propose; I'm in."

The members of the Peaky Blinders all raised a brow, mostly Tommy's.

"You slept with Luca Changretta, I didn't expect you to actually follow up with that, I don't recall telling you to do so, either."

"I wanted to discuss his plans on taking the Penarth gallery. It's not for his dirty hands to touch."

"You wish to join because your heart was too broken to hold back?" Polly says. "Is that where we're getting at, Teresa?" The Welsh woman stared at her. This was probably the first time they had seen each other after all those years that followed from her resignation. Since the last time they spoke, Polly didn't have anything held against her, and here she is, quite disappointed that Teresa shared her heart with a man like Luca. She did quite enjoy her company and her contribution to the Peaky Blinders, even when she chose to depart from Tommy and their relationship, then came Grace Burgess. Polly just didn't want to deal with another afterwards unless it was Lizzie.

"You're doing this just to get even? Luca could care less about your feelings now."

"Teresa," Tommy sighs, nodding at his old friend. "Come back here tomorrow."

Teresa nodded and made her exit out the foot of her door.

"And come on time, please." Teresa wished she could slam the door on him, but Arthur shut it as soon as Teresa's foot took a centimeter away. She presses her ear against the wood to hear them muffling.

"Tom?" She hears Arthur speak. "We can't trust her."

Tommy clears his throat, setting down a scrap of an article he read on his desk. "She'll go back to Penarth, but we can't let her stay there. I know what's going to happen."

"What do you know?"

"Italian men will show up to the gallery."

"It's certain Teresa Griffith keeps a firearm in her drawers," Polly says.

"No," Tommy shook his head. "Not enough to take down at least five men. Luca keeps count of who he orders - who he sends. We're more careful of that, we know of that."

"We're not morons, Tommy. Now we hear from Finn that Luca and Teresa were together?"

"Teresa should give us what we need to know from Luca Changretta. She knows too much about him."

"And Luca knows too much about us," Polly slowly walks over to Tommy. "If Teresa forms an alliance, what will she do? She's already slept with him, but I doubt she got anything out of it. She's not here for the sake of helping. She wants in because she's a woman with a broken heart."

Teresa detaches herself from the door, having heard enough. One of the maids returns, noticing the guest hadn't left yet and was suspiciously eavesdropping their boss. Teresa was pulled back by the shoulder like a child, escorting her out of the foyer.

SEVERAL HOURS EARLIER, Teresa woke from the blinding sun. The silky bed sheets that covered hers and Luca's nude bodies were unmade - ruffled around. If you left the curtains open, you're more alerted. Luca never intended on waking Teresa up that way. In fact, he wasn't even lying next to her in the bed.

Luca's white dress shirt casted more brightness but his trousers were half done. He stared outside, holding his China cup of tea in one hand before looking back down at the papers sprawled across his desk.

Teresa sat up to clip on her brassiere, her accent thinned to greet in basic Italian. "Buongiorno."

He didn't respond.

She slides out of bed and approaches the desk. "Do you need me to leave soon? Though, you don't look like you're in a rush for an important meeting."

Still nothing.

"What, Luca?" This wasn't new for Luca to strangely switch up his mood. He wasn't an easy man, it's hard to impress him or to even study his emotions at times. Teresa had the feeling that Luca didn't enjoy what they had done. "Was this a mistake?"

"This was unprofessional." Luca sets his cup and coaster on his desk. "If you think something will come from this, then think again. I never should have taken you to the theatre. You were trying to let my guard down, were you?"

"No," Teresa shook her head. "I wasn't surprised that this was going to happen."

"Such a mind you carry in that blonde head of yours."

"Seeing you again felt good, Luca. I seized the opportunity to share another moment with you. I was thinking you were going to plan on coming back to Penarth indefinitely."

"Miss Griffith, did it ever occur to you that I wasn't supposed to stay here?" Luca frowns. "I'm no citizen here. America is where my heart belongs, if not America; Sicily."

"You fled to America. That was your last ditch effort to get away from the police," Teresa murmured. She folds her arms. "I understand why you had to do it."

"Then why do you hold it against me?" he asks, exhausted.

"Because I never heard from you ever since."

"I was fairly active in New York, you know?"

"I didn't know."

Luca stared at her. "That's your own problem, Miss Griffith."

"Christ, Luca. Enough with the formalities!" Teresa snaps. "I'm standing at your desk, half nude. We fucked in that bed right there!"

"Which was something we shouldn't have done," Luca began rubbing his temples. "I didn't come back here for you, all right? Porca miseria-" he cuts himself off to heave in a deep sigh. "I have to ask. All this time... you're still hung up on me?"

"Yes," Teresa says, her face paling. "Because I missed you, you bloody bastard. I couldn't reach out to you or your mother, not even the American press, to see how you were doing, or if you were kissing another woman's lips."

Luca slid his hand over to pick up the dress and shawl he placed on the side of the desk. "You need to leave now."

There was no point of convincing him anymore. All was said. Teresa knew not to vex a mafioso unarmed. If she had her handgun with her, she would have tried to pull something in a spite of anger. Would that do her a favour? Probably not. The rest of whoever's left of the Changretta family would go after her without question.

There was Tommy, though, and he's still waiting for her response back in Small Heath.

Grabbing her clothes, Teresa marches back to the bed, gets dressed and leaves the hotel room without saying a word to her former lover. Not even a curse.

#pink+white #luca changretta x oc #luca changretta fanfic #luca changretta #luca changretta fanfiction #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders x oc #peaky blinders

[bffsoobin]

Iced Chai

↳ you had a small obsession with drinking iced chai lattes between class, and it just so happened that the coffee store on campus had the best ones. when a new barista replaces the one who used to make your drink, you put him to the test. he makes the most wonderful iced chai you’d ever had. he’s also one of the most handsome boys you ever seen on campus.

➤ fluff, college!au, shy barista!hueningkai

Word Count:3,830

A/N: yes, this fic is very much influenced by my massive love for iced chai lattes and the way I consumed them up until March when we had to leave campus. Sadly I didn’t have any cute boys serving me :(. Anywho, I hope you enjoy it! Please keep in mind that I haven’t proofread, so there may be some small mistakes!

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

Calculus was a pain in the ass. Obviously, you knew this well before you scheduled for your freshmen year of college, but there was no way to avoid the reality handed to you by your major. So every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning at 8 am you endured the rambling lectures of your less than spry professor who could barely work his desktop computer. You tried your best to pay attention, you really did, but there was only so much you could do when the conversation shifted from tangent lines to the best way to reheat fast food french fries.

As you doodled in the margins of your lined notebook, your mind wandered to the only good thing sitting through this class does for you. Other than the credits. As soon as the clock struck 9am, you had a date with the on campus café. The roughly hour break between the end of calculus and the beginning of chemistry gave you the perfect window to enjoy some alone time. Homey, student run and always playing some version of a coffee shop playlist; the place was your haven on campus. Not only did you love the atmosphere and the fact that it was the best place on campus to study, but they also serve the best iced chai latte you’d ever encountered. The thought of the drink alone made your mouth salivate. From your first hesitant order, you had become hooked. Within your first week on campus, you had easily drank 10 cups of the chilled goodness before your roommate expressed concern for the sheer amount of sugar and dairy you’d been consuming. 

Due to the timing of your tri-weekly trips, you had always been served by the same lovely barista, Rachael. She was stylish, down to earth and always told you a good joke when you showed up looking especially out of it. Most importantly, something about the way she mixed the drink convinced you that she surely was sent from the heavens.

When your graying professor finally let your class go for the day, you walked on clouds to your favorite spot on campus. It had rained during class so the air was chilled and the ground was still damp. The telltale scent of rain invaded your senses and a chill ran through you. Most people would be craving a hot coffee or steaming cup of tea- but all you desired was the smooth flavor of your favorite drink. The walk to your beloved café wasn’t long, but you always found yourself in a bit of a rush to get there as soon as you possibly could. In a moment of carelessness, you stepped right into a rather large puddle and soaked one of your feet right through your shoes and your sock. Disgusting you thought as you finally arrived at the door. The handle was slick with moisture thanks to the weather, but you wiped your hand onto your sweatshirt as you stepped inside and let the familiar scent of coffee grounds occupy your mind. Your shoulders relaxed simply at the relaxed atmosphere.

A few students who also frequented around this time were sitting at their usual tables, and you waved at them politely before taking yourself- and your squelching shoe- over to the small booth you’d come to know and love. You ditched your bookbag on the table with a thud, feeling secure with the knowledge of your agreement with the girl who sat at the table next to you to keep an eye on your things. 

As you headed toward the counter, you belatedly noticed that the line seemed a bit more backed up than usual. It wasn’t too big of a concern, as your college was relatively small and waiting an extra five minutes would by no means ruin your timing. It was just curious. Usually Rachael ran the counter with the ease of an experienced sailor, but that ease seemed to be missing today. Nevertheless, the line inched forward steadily. Engrossed in your phone, you hadn’t noticed the glaring difference in your routine until you got to the cash register. While placing your plastic ID card over the scanner, you chirped “just my usual, Rachael!” 

Despite what your mind told you would happen next- she would laugh, say okay, maybe ask about class while handing over a receipt- you were met with an awkward stutter that your trusty barista certainly didn’t make. 

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know your usual,” upon finally looking up, your brain processed the sight of a new boy. A new gorgeous boy. Did they only hire beautiful people here? His black hair was falling into his eyes, charmingly shaggy and exposing just enough of his forehead to make you oddly wish you could see more. His cheeks were dusted in a light pink blush that both charmed you and made you feel bad at the same time. He seemed so fresh. Upon further inspection, you caught his handmade name tag written in slightly shaky handwriting that was so cutely boyish. Hueningkai. He had decorated one corner with a smiley face and the other with a drawing of a coffee bean that looked suspiciously like nothing more than a dark brown blob with a small accent line down the middle. 

“I’m sorry, Hueningkai,” you didn’t miss the way his eyes widened slightly at the use of his name, “usually Rachael is here to take my order. But I’ll take a large iced chai latte, please.” He nodded quickly, reverting his eyes to the LED screen which his eyes bounced around for a few seconds before he finally found the correct button. This must have been why the line seemed abnormally long. As the sound of your receipt printing filled the silence, you asked; “first day?” 

A melodious laugh fell from his lips, causing a scrunch of his perfectly pointed nose that you felt honored to have seen as he stepped away from the register to start making your drink. “That obvious, huh?” Another worker came to take his spot and serve the next student but you followed Hueningkai to his new destination. For as shy as he was at the cash register, he moved with much more confidence when it came to actually making drinks. His earlier hesitation was totally gone as he got to work mixing up your drink. In his new position, you could get a better look at his hands, adorned in simple silver jewelry that embarrassingly made your breath catch in your throat. His actions were over almost as quickly as they began, and his earlier hesitation seemed to return as he slid the drink to you over the granite counter top. You grasped at it eagerly in the same moment he reached to balance a straw on top of the lid. 

For a brief moment your fingers lingered and your mind went wild at the absurdity that you honestly felt sparks pass between the two of you. 

“Oh, uh, sorry,” he mumbled, dipping his head down awkwardly as he finally tore his hand away. You smiled back earnestly, hoping to make him understand that you weren’t bothered at all by the contact. 

Back at the safety of your table, you took a second to collect yourself. Surely you were overreacting to the small interaction. After all, you were already having a pretty weird day. Looking down at your clear cup, you remembered the beginning of your dilemma- the absence of amazing barista Rachael. Hueningkai was adorable, but could his skills hold up to the woman who made drinks you literally dreamed about? Tentatively, you took a sip of the drink and immediately cocked your head to the side. On the off chance your taste buds had totally deceived you, you took another long swig from the cup. 

Hueningkai’s drink was even better than Rachael’s.

——

The next morning, you awoke before your alarm even started to beep. Thursdays meant no class until 1 o’clock, so you had almost all the time in the world to catch up on assignments and homework and do your errands. Instead of doing anything constructive, you found yourself craving yet another iced chai latte. As you voiced this desire to your roommate, she looked at you as if you’d just admitted to the murder of 4 people.

“Are you insane? Do you not remember how miserable you felt after drinking two a day? I can’t let you do that again. You can go to the café but at least drink something different!” You knew that she was right, but something inside of you- that shitty little perpetual teenage boy who hides in a corner of your mind- told you to do the exact opposite of what she said.

“I’m sorry,” you shuffled through the shirts hanging in your closet, the sound of the plastic hangers clicking together resonating in the otherwise quiet room. “But you have to go to class so there’s no way you can police me. Plus,” you pulled a shirt out of your closet and slid over to your cheap full length mirror to inspect yourself. “You didn’t see Hueningkai. He is...” your cheeks flushed as your roommate began to let out a high pitched squeal. “Shhh! The walls are thin!”

“Oh don’t act so scandalized. I guess it makes sense that you’d have a crush on the boy who feeds your addiction.” You rolled your eyes at her, lobbing a pair of rolled up socks in her direction in retaliation. They hit her side softly before bouncing to the floor dejectedly. “You,” she pointed a finger your way as you rooted through your drawer for a pair of jeans, “are ridiculous. Have fun with your dreamy boy while I’m at class.”

Despite the familiarity of the path to the café, you still felt a bit out of place making the trip on a Thursday. Even the other students passing you by felt wrong in a way you couldn’t quite place. There was also the lingering worry that Hueningkai wasn’t even working today, and you’d show up to the small building just for a dose of disappointment. In you worried haze, you had barely noticed you arrived until the door was pushed open from the inside and a small pack of students held the door aside for you.

Inside of the building, a blanket of warm air surrounded your form and the faint smell of cinnamon drifted easily through the air. You were instantly calmed by the scent until someone bumped into your shoulder. With wide eyes, you looked around to see about double the amount of people your usual visits yielded. You were in no way prepared for the absolute mass of bodies that filtered between the tables and comfortable sitting areas. 

Feeling a bit lost, you put yourself into the line of waiting students and tried your best to peer over heads and around bodies to see if you could catch a glimpse of the barista that had captivated you so easily. It didn’t look like he was making drinks, but you held out hope that he was manning the register that was blocked from your sight. After what felt like forever, you reached the register and came face to face with...not Hueningkai. Despite your disappointment, there was no way you would turn down a drink, even made by a non-Hueningkai. 

Once you had the chilled cup cradled in your hands, you took a hopeless look around at the full dining room. Almost every table looked to be occupied, and some students had even resorted to leaning against the walls to chat and sip their drinks. The back of your neck began to heat up as you wandered around hoping for anyone to decide they were done and get up to leave. You had almost given up and decided to just go back to your dorm and lick your metaphorical wounds when a voice called your name. It only took a second of looking around to lock eyes with the one who was calling for you. 

Hueningkai. He had a light blush filling his cheeks as he waved a hand noncommittally your way. He looked ethereal sitting at the table, hot cup of something steaming next to his sticker covered laptop. His eyes were wide and adorably eager; akin to the look of a puppy who had just seen their owner after a long day. Your feet were working before your brain, so when you arrived to the table you had to scramble for an opener. 

“Hey! I was looking for you!” you winced. Way to go, Y/N. Out yourself on the second meeting. “I mean, uh,” you felt the cup in your hand start to slip with the sweat your palms produced, “I was hoping you’d make my drink again.” 

A smile spread like wildfire on Hueningkai’s face and his eyes crinkled adorably in the corners.

“You liked it that much?” His voice was meek, oddly shy for the way he beamed up at you with so much ease. 

“Yeah! It was really good. Even better than Rachael’s, to be honest.”

“Really? She was the best barista here!” He brought a hand up to his mouth in shock. 

“Yeah, really! Anyway, I can get going if you...you look busy,” you gestured toward his open laptop and drink that you were sure was rapidly cooling the longer you distracted him. 

“No!” he blurted the word before visibly flinching at his actions. At least it wasn’t just you feeling like a fumbling idiot. “I called you over cause it looked like you needed a seat? And if you want to sit with me, you can. I’m just working on a presentation and you won’t distract me, I promise.” There was no way you could deny the eagerness lacing his voice, so you pulled the chair opposite him across the floor and settled in. 

----

“That sounds like a date. A hangout at the very least,” your roommate asserted as she typed some code into her computer. 

“It was not a date!” You whined, glaring up at your ceiling from your spot on your twin XL. “He just saw me looking for a place to sit and offered.” She scoffed. 

“Yeah, and then he proceeded to ignore his homework to talk to you. And then he asked if you were coming back to the cafe tomorrow. And then he-” 

“Okay, I get it! But what am I supposed to do? Ask him out?” A bubble of nerves was resting heavily in your stomach at the thought. As much as you liked him, who were you to think that he wasn’t just being kind? When you voiced this concern to your roommate, she tossed her computer to the side and strode over to your bed to not-so-gently pull you out of it. Without an idea of what she was doing, you stood dumbly until she put on her slippers and drug you out of your room. 

“What are you doing? I didn’t even put my slippers on!” Your sock covered feet slid across the tile of the hallway as your roommate finally hauled you into the common room of your floor, where a few small groups had gathered to do various activities. 

“Hi everyone! My lovely roommate Y/N and I have a question for you. Do any of you know Hueningkai? He works at the cafe, really tall, music major?” A few people nodded in confusion, surely wondering why the hell one of the polite tenants of room 112 was conducting some kind of survey in the lounge. 

“Great. Has he ever shown interest in any of you? Asked you to sit with him in the cafe? Spent about an hour inquiring about your life instead of quietly working? Gave you his number?” Everyone who had previously nodded stood still, not moving an inch as they whispered between each other. “Okay, that’s all!” Your roommate left with no further elaboration as you called out a weak apology to everyone. Back in the safety of your room, you stared at her, scandalized. 

“What was that?” 

“That, my dear Y/N, was proof. He likes you!”

----

A nervousness you hadn’t felt since move in day was crawling through your body the closer the clock ticked to 9 am. Theoretically, you could just skip going to get a drink today, and therefore avoid the source of your nerves; but you knew that Hueningkai was expecting you to show. He had even sent you an eager text this morning with a series of heart wrenchingly adorable emojis. There was no way you could avoid him after that. 

Late fall weather had surely settled in today and you felt the chill settle into your bones as soon as you stepped out of the math building. For a few seconds, you stopped to watch a rough breeze rustle browning leaves across the concrete paths of campus before simply digging your hands further into your pockets. You had to power your way through this. Worse case scenario, he says no and you can never show your face on campus again. Simple. 

The door felt especially heavy under your hands as you hauled it open. The much more familiar, sparsely populated shop greeted you but only ratcheted up your nerves. With less people milling around, there was no way to delay your conversation with Hueningkai. As soon as you began to approach the counter, you could see him stumble over to the register before the other working student could even attempt to. He tried to casually lean his elbow onto the half wall to his left, but he miscalculated and ended up shyly tucking his hands into the front pocket of his apron. 

“Hi,” you swallowed the lump in your throat and hoped that he hadn’t notice the shake in your voice. The familiar beep of the card reader interrupted your worries momentarily as you heard the boy in front of you exhale a greeting. 

“Your usual?” He inquired as if he hadn’t already seen you with the drink two days in a row. Not trusting your voice, you simply nodded and waited for him to punch the order into the screen. His hand hesitated as he glanced up at you again. “You’re the only person I know still ordering cold drinks in this weather,” a teasing smile had blossomed on his pink lips and your heart jumped at the sight. 

“Well, I guess I’m just a bit stuck in my ways,” you followed him, as always, to the other side of the counter where orders were placed when finished. 

“I like that,” he commented as he grabbed a cup, “it makes my job a whole lot easier,” your eyes locked onto his hands out of instinct. Yesterday you had noticed the addition of a thin silver chain around his wrist, and you would be lying if you hadn’t spent a few minutes admiring the delicate chain contrasted against the strength of his hands. A pour of ice pulled you out of your thoughts, and you caught the back half of a question from him. 

“What’d you say?” You felt as if lava was bubbling right under the surface of your skin as you reeled in embarrassment. You couldn’t believe that you’d let yourself miss a chunk of conversation for something so stupid. 

“Oh,” he seemed equally embarrassed that you hadn’t heard him, and it hurt your heart a little to see the way his eyes shook. “I just wanted to know if you had a good night yesterday. I mean because you-you told me when we hung out that you had a lot of reading to do, and I wasn’t sure if you got it all done. Sometimes I get so overwhelmed with readings that I don’t do any of them, and Taehyun yells at me for that but I just can’t seem to stop doing it.” He was rambling, and you both knew it, but you let him continue as he shyly looked away in order to pour your drink over the ice. 

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I had an okay night. My roommate was a bit much, but I love her, so it was okay.” His eyebrow quirked softly at the mention of your roommate, but he seemed afraid to broach the subject just yet. He gave your drink a good swirl after sealing on the lid and slid it over the smooth counter to your waiting hand. Unlike the first time you had met, you had already grabbed a straw from the small display and plunged it into the drink. 

Although you should have walked away, something kept you rooted to the spot, Hueningkai seemed to be under the same kind of spell as he looked over his shoulder to see that no one else had lined up to be served quite yet. 

“Hey, I was wonderi-”

“This might be weird-”

Your sentences clashed in the air as you spoke at the exact same time. Your mouth hung open like a fish out of water and Hueningkai waved his hands around wildly in your direction. “Go ahead!” He enthused, looking as if he was going to melt into the floor as a side effect of interrupting you. 

“No, I mean, you can say your thing first, if you- if you want,” you offered weakly. 

“No, it’s okay, you definitely spoke first. G-go ahead,” he nodded rapidly in order to convince you further. You raised your eyebrows in a silent question of ‘are you sure?’, to which he nodded again. 

“Okay, I was wondering if you’d like to, uhm, go out sometime? On a date?” The words felt like weights rolling off of your tongue. Hueningkai blinked once, twice, a third time before he broke into a peal of laughter. A sudden wash of panic, as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over your head, filled your senses. This was it. You would have to transfer schools and change your hair color to get rid of this incident. Goodbye, life you had come to know and love. 

Hueningkai must have recognized your panic as he took a harsh breath and surged forward to reach for your arm. 

“Wait! I wasn’t laughing at you! It’s just that I was, um, also going to ask you out.” This time, a laugh bubbled up in your throat at the confession. 

“You’re right. That is pretty hilarious.” You admitted, feeling the tension around you totally dissipate. 

“Well, I think this bodes well for us. We’ve only known each other for a few days and we already have telepathy. My roommate will be so jealous. He’s been trying to meld our minds for weeks.” His personality was beginning to peak through when he spoke about his friends, you noticed. It was charming. He was charming. Not to mention, he still made the best damn iced chai latte you’d ever had. 

#hueningkai #hueningkai fluff #txtwritersnetwork #hueningkai x reader #hueningkai fic #hueningkai fanfic #hueningkai imagine #hueningkai imagines #hueningkai reactions #hueningkai reaction #hueningkai scenarios #hueningkai scenario #hueningkai drabbles #hueningkai drabble #txt x reader #txt fluff #txt imagines #txt imagine #txt reactions #txt reaction #txt drabble #txt drabbles #txt fanfic #txt fic #txt scenarios #txt scenario #txt au #tomorrow x together #tomorrow x together fic #tomorrow x together fanfic

[redhoodssweetheart]

Sketchpad

Day Thirty of my milestone challenge:  College AU

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Gender Neutral!Reader

Requested: No (REQUESTS ARE CLOSED)

Word Count: 908

Warnings: Fluff, party, drinking and smoking mentioned.

Description:  You’re dragged to a frat party that you don’t want to be at, but it’s not so bad once you meet Steve.

A/N:  One day left!  I can’t believe I actually managed to write 31 stories a day!  Enjoy! :D 

The party wasn’t supposed to last this long.  You were supposed to go in, mingle, and then get out and go to dinner.  Your friends, however, had a different idea.  Their “one more minute” turned into thirty minutes and their “ten more minutes” turned into an hour later.  You grabbed an unopened bottle of water and headed into the backyard of the frat house you had found yourself in.

It was much quieter out here than inside the house where the bass was cranked all the way up and you could practically feel your bones rattling inside you.  Tonight had not gone according to plan and you weren’t sure if you should feel annoyed that you had been forced out when you could be back in your room studying for the test on Monday.

Instead you were trying to find a safe corner of the backyard where people weren’t making out or drinking and smoking together.  The farther you went the less crowded it became until you found a fire pit that was practically deserted.  A lone figure sat there and was drawing something in a well worn sketchbook.  He hadn’t heard you approach, to lost in his own work to care.

“Excuse me,” your voice made him jump and he looked at you with wide blue eyes.  “Do you mind if I sit here?  It’s a little too loud back there,” you said gesturing to the frat house where someone had dragged the keg outside and now had a group of people standing around chanting chug as some guy decided to chug whatever poor quality beer was in there.

The man shook his head, “I don’t mind.”

Smiling you took a seat across from him on the loveseat and leaned your head back to look at the stars.  The sky was clear and you could see several of the familiar constellations winking at you from their spot in the heavens.  “One, two, three, four, five--”  You had begun counting the stars softly under your breath, just something to pass the time and fill the space with something other than the music and the cheering.

“Are you counting the stars?”  He asked you, making you move so you could see his face again.

You shrugged, “I didn’t want to pester you with questions and it gave me something else to focus on besides that.”  You hooked a finger back toward the house.

The man studied you, and then surprised you by asking, “Could I draw you?”  His cheeks heated and he began backtracking, “You… you don’t have to!  I’m sorry that came out so wrong.  I haven’t even introduced myself and here I am asking a complete stranger if I can draw them.  I swear I’m not a creep!  I’m an art major and I’m having--”

You held up a hand and stopped his rambling from continuing, “I’m Y/N.  And I don’t mind, it’s the least I can do after you so graciously let me intrude on your peace and quiet.”

He visibly relaxed and said, “I’m Steve by the way.  I actually live here at the frat house.”  He glanced back to where some of his fraternity brothers were now setting up beer pong and cringed, “I’m already dreading the mess and hangovers.”

That made you chuckle, “You know you could ditch them in the morning.  It’s not your mess.”

Steve considered your words for a moment, “Very tempting, I’m not going to lie, but I would catch hell if I did that to them.  No it’s safer if I’m here and helping even if I did protest the idea of the party.”

The two of you fell silent while Steve began to sketch you.  He had you shift your position a couple of times until he found one he liked and you tried to stay as still as possible while he worked.  “Why art?”  You asked after about five minutes of silence.

Steve didn’t look up from what he was doing, “I’ve always been good at it.  It’s something I’m passionate about.”  His gaze met yours, “What about you?”

“Still figuring that out,” you admitted.  “I haven’t found my place in the world yet.”

He didn’t say anything like people normally did.  You were tired of the people placating you and telling you that you would find it eventually or telling you just to pick something before it was too late.  He just told you that when the time was right you would know what you wanted to do.  After thirty minutes he had finished the majority of the sketch and he tore it out of the sketchbook and handed it to you.

“A gift,” he said.  “For keeping me company tonight.”

That made you feel warm inside and you went to say something to him when you heard one of your friends call out, “Y/N come on!  We’re ready to go!”

You looked over and held up a finger, “I’ll be right there!”  You turned back to Steve and held out your hand, “Pencil.”  He handed it over and inside the sketchbook you scribbled down your number, “If you feel like ditching your friends in the morning text me and we can go get breakfast together.”  As you began walking away you called over your shoulder, “Night Steve!”

He looked down at the number you had just written in his sketchpad and smiled.  Maybe the party tonight wasn’t a bad idea after all.

#Steve Rogers x Reader #Steve Rogers x Reader fluff #Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers fanfic #Steve Rogers fanfiction #Steve Rogers fluff

[lokislytherin]

euphoria // vampire!jungkook

pairing: vampire!jeon jeongguk x human!reader summary: you’re scared of vampires - until one saves your life one night. word count: 1988 + 1808 + 

chapters: prologue / chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / epilogue

The next few days are mostly uneventful.

Taehyung visits and shamelessly beats your ass at Mario Kart when he steals Seokjin's DS, only to have his older brother return and beat his ass in an act of revenge.  Taehyung begs for rematches, and the amount of times Seokjin wins is alarming.  That day, you learn that your roommate is surprisingly competitive when it comes to Mario, games, and Mario-related games.

You also meet up with college student Kim Namjoon, who has kindly volunteered to tutor you in math.  In the span of your one hour-long session, Namjoon manages to misplace both his wallet and his phone while rambling on about trigonometry and Greek mathematician/philosophers.  Thankfully, he finds both in the cafe booth you've been studying at.  You bear him no offense, but you're glad for the distraction your new friend's disastrous luck and tendency to babble offers you, if only for a short while.

Even though he tries not to show it in front of you, you can tell that Seokjin is still suspicious about what happened - or rather, didn't happen - the other night.  You shut your own worries down, telling yourself firmly he's better off not knowing.  If he found out that you met a vampire, he'd flip out and pitch a fit, or have a heart attack.  Perhaps he'd do both, and proceed to lock you in your room and never let you out without him being by your side.  He's never been good with horror films, but again, neither have you.

The next time you find yourself alone, it’s night-time again.  All your friends are busy – most of your friends from school are already asleep or being insomniac gremlins; Taehyung is doing some last-minute studying for a test the next day; you're not desperate enough to contact Namjoon, and not familiar enough with him either; and surprisingly enough, Jin is on a date.  Despite your initial irritation at him ditching your movie night, you’re happy for him – he needs to get out more, and his good looks deserve much better than to go to waste with him being a bachelor for the rest of his life.

You sigh as you attempt to brush out the tangles in your damp hair, envying Seokjin’s effortless beauty.  No matter what he does, he's flat out gorgeous, and he knows it, even if nobody else notices.  But you? You're not exactly society's image of 'drop dead gorgeous'.  All your previous relationships have gone to shït, even though you will admit that it was not your fault.  You glare at your reflection, and the girl in the fogged-up mirror glares right back at you.

You turn around, sick of looking at your messy, knotted hair – and scream.

There’s a boy.  In your bathroom.  A boy with dazzling blue eyes and gleaming white canines, a boy that doesn’t appear in the mirror.  A boy that clearly can't be human, no matter how much his other features almost lull you into a false sense of security.  

He grins.  “Hi.”

Did I mention the boy is in your bathroom? Had he arrived a few minutes earlier, you would've been naked.

You scream again, right in his face.  It’s the bloodsucker from several nights ago! You quiver upon realizing that his fangs are even sharper up close. He cute though, the voice in your head supplies helpfully.  It's not wrong. He winces, immediately clamping a hand over your mouth.  His skin is cold, cold as ice, whereas you are warm, face flushed with terror and mild embarrassment. Enclosing you in his arms, he carefully pulls you away from the mirror, setting you down on your bed.  Your eyes are wide, brain frozen in fear, body unable to move of your own free will. You seem a little less scared of him than he is of you as he pulls his hand away from your face, but reflexively presses a finger against your lips to shut off another scream from you.  You go cross-eyed at the contact.  Is he trying to kill you, or flirt with you?

Boys are confusing, you decide.

“Sorry if I scared you,” he says quietly, almost bashfully, “I keep forgetting I’m not a human anymore.” If he were human, he’d probably be blushing, but he’s not, and his face is pale, without any sign of a flush.  He looks a little paler than he should be, but that’s it.  He carefully sits down beside you, leaving a large gap in the middle.

“Thanks for calling me cute, though,” he says, incredibly forward but somehow even shyer than before (and shït, Y/N, you realize belatedly, he’s not supposed to be this cute! He’s dead!).  He doesn’t meet your eyes.  “You’re not too bad yourself.”

You finally gain control of your tongue (and your brain).  “I don’t mean to be rude, but who the fück are you and what the fück are you doing in my house?”

You know it’s probably unwise to swear at an undead being who could drain you dry of blood and life in less than a minute, but right now you’re too angry, scared (and honestly a little turned on) to care about that.  Besides, the vampire boy doesn’t really look like he could hurt you. “I’m Jeon Jeongguk, and I’m a vampire. I won’t hurt you; I swear.” You narrow your eyes.  The primal instinct inside your head still screams at you to run, even as you see how he looks a little lonely, a little sad.   “You’re still scared of me, aren’t you?” You nod, and he pouts.  Eyebrows knitted together, he closes his eyes in intent focus, and you watch in fascination as his fangs retract into his gums to reveal normal human teeth.  “Again, I’m really sorry for scaring you the other day.”  

He cracks a wry smile.  “I’m not me when I’m hungry.”

To your surprise, a giggle escapes your throat.  “You’re a vampire.  How do you know about Snickers?”

He looks wounded.  “Why wouldn’t I know about Snickers? I'm not too big a fan myself, but I still know about them.” He sighs.  “Believe it or not, I was human too.”

You resist the urge to hug the stranger upon hearing the sadness in his tone, instead just softly patting his arm.  “How old are you?” You blurt curiously.  The question’s been on your mind for a while.  He looks young, not much older than you are.  But how old is he really?

Jeongguk pouts.  “I hate it when people ask me that. I’m so shït at counting.” He tries anyway, counting with his fingers and looking confused.  “I was turned a year ago? I was twenty-one, but I haven’t physically aged since then. So, does that make me twenty-two, or am I still twenty-one? Am I supposed the years I’ve been alive for? But I should be biologically dead, because my heart’s not beating anymore and I'm fueled by blood and magic-”

He stops and sniffs the air.  “Actually, I think your roommate’s back.” He closes his eyes, sniffs a little more and promptly looks disgusted.  “He doesn’t seem very happy.”

You cock your head. “Emotions have scents,” he explains, “irritation and self-deprecation smell the worst.” He wrinkles his nose with a small pout.  “Werewolves can distinguish scents better, though.  They're like dogs, especially near the full moon.”

You coo inwardly at the pouty look on his face, and jump when you hear Seokjin's key twisting in the lock.  Your room is further away from the door than Jin's, and if Jeongguk can smell Seokjin from here he must have one hell of a nose.  Briefly, you're tempted to pull out some garlic bread.

“Well, that's my cue to leave.” Jeongguk smiles so brightly you're a little dazed.  He looks like a bunny - adorable - and it's so cute that you're squealing and dying on the inside at the same time. “Bye!”

That said, he jumps out the window.

You almost scream and throw yourself out after him, only to remember he's a vampire with far better reflexes than you.  You see him downstairs, a blur of black in the shadows.  He stops and waves goodbye, like an energetic puppy of sorts.  With a light blush on your face, you wave back.

You flinch away from the window as the door creaks and swings open, hearing a disheartened looking Seokjin stomping in. You hope he doesn’t notice the lingering blush on your cheeks.  You'd feel bad if you snagged a cutie and he didn't, after trying for so much longer than you have.

“I take it that the date didn’t go too well?” You ask, testing the waters as you walk out to greet him.  An angry and heartbroken Seokjin is never a good Seokjin to deal with.

Seokjin mumbles something unintelligible, and you hum to get him to clarify.

Seokjin throws himself onto the couch.  “She ditched. She didn’t even call, or text! I waited for an hour.  Alone. In the dark.” He sniffs, pouting.  “These dates are so stupid. I feel so stupid.  Why do I even bother anymore?”

You sit down beside him, patting his shoulder reassuringly.  “Oh, darling.” He’s a little older than you, but he’s used to your fond nicknames.  “You’ll find the perfect one for you soon enough.”

He huffs. “You say that every time,” he retorts bitterly. “Well, maybe you’ll find someone who appreciates you.” He sighs heavily, barely giving you time to move your arm before he flops backwards dramatically, almost boneless.  “I hope so too, Y/N.”

Seokjin switches on the tv, mindlessly flipping through the channels.

“Still up for movie night?” You suggest.

Your roommate nods gratefully.  “Hell yeah.”

You take the remote from him, laughing.  “Good, because I’m picking the movie.”

He groans dramatically.  “Oh, what a nightmare.”

You move to flick his forehead, but he ducks out of the way.  “Just for that comment, we’re watching Twilight.  Now get the chips.”

He obliges, albeit grudgingly.  Neither of you are big fans of the vampire movie franchise - or the books, for that matter - but your sassy jabs at the characters never fail to make Seokjin feel better.

You won't tell him about your ulterior motives - after a vampire named Jeon Jeongguk barreled into your life, you've never related to Bella Swan so much.

#jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jungkook #bts jungkook #bts au #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #vampire jungkook #bts jin #bts rm #bts v #jin #rm #v #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #suga #jimin #jhope #bangtan #bangtan boys #bulletproof boy scouts #bangtan sonyeondan #vampire #bts paranormal au #vampire au

[andimlonely]

You Shine

BNHA; Denki Kaminari x f!reader | With finals approaching, your diligence is cranked up to the highest setting, but after rarely seeing you outside of class for a few days, Denki has to step in before you run yourself into the ground.

✿♦ Fluff and angst 

A/N: I was struggling with this one for awhile but I think I like how it turned out in the end. Listening to this: https://youtu.be/AGtKpeY6UqI really helped to inspire me, because it captures the feeling of the angsty moments well. Really, a lot of the angst I write will probably pair well with that song if it’s not super heavy. I hope you enjoy this one, and maybe even find some comfort in it if you can relate! 

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“Heya, (y/n),” greets Kaminari as he strolls into your room casually, as he always does, clad in a black tank and grey track pants.

You lift your head and glance over your shoulder at him from your desk, noticing the dampness of his forehead and hair, “Hey, Denki. What’s up?”

“Nothin’ much. Kiri and I just got back from the gym. Can ya tell?”

It takes one glance at your blond friend’s silly pose, an attempt to flex all the muscle he purported to have, for you to chuckle, “Yeah, I can tell.”

He chuckles along with you, retorting that maybe he isn’t all muscular yet but he’ll get there, and dropping down onto your baby blue beanbag chair - and probably widening the small but worrisome ripped seam that you have yet to sew back up. 

While he makes himself comfortable, you continue to tap at your keyboard, then pause to read, then tap away again, a monotonous cycle that threatens to lull him into a boredom-induced nap. By now Denki is used to the sight, having learned of your diligence before he even got to know you personally. In fact, it was due to Aizawa’s praise towards the students with perfect scores on the first exam that he reached out to you in the first place. With Yaoyorozu overbooked for studying sessions, it was between you and Midoriya, and while he had nothing against his freckled classmate, he wasn’t going to choose him as a tutor when there was someone cute and just as capable available. 

But despite how accustomed he is to seeing you hunched over your desk, he’s no less dismayed. 

“Don’t tell me you’re still studying,” he groans, his head tossed back against the beanbag. 

The rhetorical nature of the question has you playfully rolling your eyes. “Should I even answer that? Besides, have you even started studying? Finals are next week.”

“It’s Monday! This week just started and you’re already worrying about the next one?”

He really won’t let this go. Exasperated, you drop your pen and swivel around so you can plead him to let you study.

“Denki,” you whine, “We’ve been over this. Cramming at the last minute isn’t a good idea, didn’t you learn that after the last math test?”

He cringes at the mention, raising his hands defensively, “Alright, alright. I’ll let you study, but you’re still playing games with us later. I’m not gonna let you ditch me for some homework.”

“Fine,” you sigh with exaggerated reluctance. Secretly, as exhausted by Denki’s refusal to let you work in peace you are, you’re endeared by how persistently he tries to give you a break. Taking a little time to go get food with your best friend, or watch a movie, or anything really, sounds especially fun right now. Almost fun enough to loosen your tight study schedule, almost.

It’s not as if you want to study, or that it’s some kind of recreational activity for you. Flicking endlessly through pages, straining your eyes scanning line upon line of text, and scrawling numbers and letters that become progressively less neat in your notebook are all pretty dreadful to you. But the prospect of being handed back an assignment marked with anything less than 90% possesses your body to keep at it. The weight of maintaining such a strict regimen might strain your shoulders, but the weight of failing or underperforming threatens to crush you. And as much as you want to let it every now and then, you sweep the idea aside by burying your nose into your work. 

With a reminder that you have a few hours until you have to report to Jirou’s room for some gaming, Kaminari dismisses his still mildly sweaty self for a much needed shower. 

----

You spent that night huddled between Jirou and Denki for a couple hours, immersed in the almost evenly matched brawling of Smash Ultimate and the tumultuous rollercoaster of a game that is Mario Kart, among other games. It felt nice to indulge in something fun for awhile, even more so surrounded by your friends, but before it went on for too long you excused yourself back to your room for the night. 

That was the last time Denki and Jirou had seen you outside of class not hunched over a book or your computer, or training furiously at the gym. Needless to say, your absence from the group activities, and spaces outside your room in general - besides meals - quickly grew worrisome. 

“Dude, I haven’t seen (y/n) out here like all week,” Kaminari frowns, “I get it’s finals almost, but she’s kinda pushing it, don’t you think?”

Jirou, after taking a drink from her water bottle, sits on the adjacent sofa. “Definitely. I tried dragging her out earlier but she was asleep at her desk.” 

“Damn, dude. All she does is homework and study. I’m getting kinda worried about her.”

You might be what Denki considers an overachiever, but he’s never seen you this determined, except maybe during practical exams and of course during the many villain encounters the class has endured. But as for school work, you’re never this obsessed.

“We should try talking to her or something,” Jirou suggests, sharing in the blond’s concern for you.

“She’s so stubborn though. I tell her to take it easy all the time, she just won’t have it.”

“That’s not what I meant. Of course she’s not gonna listen if you tell her to take a break. I meant ask her why she’s so stressed in the first place. Maybe something else is bothering her.”

For some reason, the idea that something besides compulsion and maybe a little masochism is fueling your tireless work hadn’t occurred to him before. 

Denki crosses his arms, “Ya think?”

It makes sense as he considers the idea. But what could be so compelling to keep you chained to your desk everyday? He isn’t sure, but he aims to find out.

----

You barely hear the knocking over the audio playing in your earbuds, the explanation of a scientific concept you find too abstract put on hold as you answer the door.

“Denki. You knocked,” you say, eyebrows hovering far above your eyes.

Your eyes. You look so tired. Denki is struck by the darkness encircling your usually bright (e/c) irises, now swimming with tired determination.

“I know,” he replies, his hand stroking the back of his head as he steps into your room, “I dunno why.”

The curtains are loose, completely shielding your room from any light that could spill in from the night sky, though it could surely use some; your table lamp is the only source of light in the dimly lit room. In the dark he can still make out the clothes and few other items littering the floor around you, probably accumulating from all the time you sank into your studies this week.

“I assume you’re here to tell me I need a break, but I already took one. I watched youtube for an hour or so,” you inform him, a tired smile on your lips.

His smile is weak, and you notice it. “Not bad.”

He’s too quiet. 

“What’s wrong?”

A nervous chuckle falls from his lips, “Nothing’s wrong.” 

“Then.. Why are you so quiet?”

The only times Denki ever acted this strange were after brushes with villains, and that time he was feeling insecure about his critical thinking on the field, so you know better than to believe nothing is bothering him. 

“Ah.. guess I’m just tired. Aren’t you?”

“A little,” you confess, your fingers tugging at the hem of your t-shirt. “But I can’t stop now. I’ve gotten a lot done, but I still have lots to finish.”

“Dude,” your friend whines, and you sigh, already ready to protest his insistence that you’re pushing yourself too far. “I know you don’t wanna hear this, (y/n), but you really need to take a break. We haven’t even seen you out of your room since the other day, except for dinner.” 

“Denki, I don’t have time for this..”

“I’m serious, (y/n). We’re getting worried about you. Not even just me and Jirou, but the others too.”

“Worried? I’m fine.” 

Even you don’t sound so sure, your stare locked on anything that isn’t Denki. 

He drags a hand down his face, groaning once again. Maybe his pestering is annoying, but enough is enough. He would rather risk you hating him for a little while than let you run yourself into the ground like you’ve been. 

“(y/n), look. I get you’re driven and all, but it’s okay to take a break, you know?,”

“No, Denki, it’s not okay! It’s not chill, or cool, or fine! I have to pass - no, I have to ace these tests!” 

Your outburst has him taken aback, and he places a hand on your shoulder, eyes like honey saturated with sincerity.

“Hey, hey. (y/n). They’re just tests, relax.” 

“Relax”..? The word alone has you flying into a fit of rage. How could he possibly expect you to just relax, as if it’s easy, as if you can erase the glaring red numbers that flash through your mind any time your hands aren’t busy. As if the imaginary anvil hanging over your head will just disappear if you pretend it isn’t there. As if you can even dig yourself out of the mounds of paper you’re swimming in in the first place. 

“They’re not, though! Why aren’t you getting that?! Maybe you don’t feel an urgency to do well, but I do, why is that wrong?”

Denki has never seen you this distressed before, and he only grows more alarmed by the way your eyes grow glassier every time you speak. 

“It’s not wrong, (y/n).. But obsessing about it like this is. It’s not like you’re anywhere close to failing your classes, so why is this freaking you out so much?”

“Because it’s the only thing I have! If I don’t do well academically then --” 

Before the rest can escape, you cut yourself off, halting the flood of words that threaten to break through your lips. Your wrap your arms around yourself, your fingers pressing firmly into your arms.

But Denki can’t forget what you’ve said. He has to know. Why are you so desperate to prepare for these finals?

Rather than try to make you look him in the eye, he steps into your line of sight again, urging you to finish your thought. 

“Then what..?” 

Half of your face is illuminated by the glow of your lamp and computer, a gleaming droplet rolling down the slope of your cheek. Your breaths stutter faintly. The silence feels thick, so gripping in the absence of your raised voice from just moments ago. The room’s energy might have diminished but the weight of your emotion clings to the air.

“T-then I.. don’t stand out at all,” you murmur, all the defensiveness from before drained from your voice.

‘(y/n)...’

His hand is raised as if reaching weakly out to you, but you turn your back to him.

“What are you talking about?..” 

‘Isn’t it obvious?’

“My quirk isn’t really exciting, and my field work is fine but it’s not outstanding.. If I can’t ace every test, then there’s nothing exceptional about me at all. I’m just.. mediocre without my academics.” 

And you struggle to even stand out then. Yaoyorozu, Iida, Deku.. even Bakugou. All of them are just as, maybe even more, focused on their grades and just as often share in your tendency to receive high marks. It’s not as if you want them to fail; you even admire their intelligence and diligence, but sometimes, sometimes it seems so unfair. They already have such amazing quirks, make such an impression whether they’re participating in something controlled like the Sports Festival or finding creative ways to elude villains. They already seem like heroes. Why can’t you have just one moment to feel that capable, even if your moment is confined to the classroom?

“(y/n).. Hey, that’s not true. You’ve got it all wrong. There’s tons of stuff about you that stands out.”

By now your shoulders are shaking, every drop of frustration and exhaustion you locked away to be able to focus on your studies over the week seeping out of you at once. 

“Like what, that I’m the least interesting student in the class?” 

Denki’s chest stirs with a guilt-like feeling. How could you think this way? How could all this fear and insecurity you’ve been carrying have slipped past him? Quirk aside, he isn’t the brightest, but he thought he at least knew you well enough to notice when something is wrong.

He moves in front of you, and seeing you have your head lowered, he crouches before you so his face is in sight.

“No. Like how great you are at thinking on your feet. And how much you trust other people, instead of just taking the reigns every time you’re working with them. And all the creative ways you use your quirk. I’d never be able to think up stuff like that if I were you. Hell, I couldn’t even think of a way around the obstacles of my quirk without some help.”

“But.. what if my quirk just isn’t special enough?..”

“Hey. I get it. Sometimes it can feel like the rest of us fade into the background when you look at people like Bakugou or Todoroki. They seem like they’re lightyears away from us sometimes, and it can be kind of a downer. But just look at all the times relying on their quirk wasn’t even enough.”

“Yeah.. I guess so.”

He continues.

“I mean, yeah, quirks are pretty important, and powerful ones get all the attention. But if the only thing you have going for you is your quirk, I dunno, I doubt you’re gonna get very far. Don’t you think? I mean maybe if I was as smart as you I’d have a lot more brain cells left after using my quirk for a long period of time,” he jokes, tender smile deepening when you crack a laugh of your own.

“I guess I’m trying to say.. Your quirk is just as cool as anyone else’s, but it only is because you made it that way. You don’t have to ace every test to stand out, because you already shine without that. But it’s not like you even have to try that hard to do well, right? So just.. Keep being you.”

“I.. shine?”

“Even without your quirk, or your good grades,” he nods, rising to his feet, “You’re already awesome without all that.”

Without warning, your arms are wrapped tightly around him, your face buried into his shoulder, dampening his shirt somewhat as the tears you were suppressing flow free - not that he cares. You could blow your nose with this shirt and he wouldn’t mind if it meant he got to feel you like this. With the arm not trapped in your embrace, he squeezes you closer.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” you mumble into his shoulder.

“It’s okay. You’re kinda cute when you’re mad anyway,” he grins, half expecting you to shoot him a playful glare, but you stay nestled in the fabric of his t-shirt instead. “So you promise you’re gonna slow down?”

You can’t remember the last time you felt this calm. You don’t want to let him go, not any time soon. Despite how close you’ve become, you had never hugged Denki for this long, but now, as he sways you lightly right to left, you can’t imagine going long without it. 

“I’ll try,” you nod, face flushed as you come down from your emotional high, “Could we maybe.. watch a movie together? I’m tired of studying for tonight.”

“‘Course. I’ll get my laptop, it’s bigger.”

#denki kaminari x reader #denki x reader #denki fluff #denki angst #bnha fluff #bnha angst #bnha fanfic #denki kaminari #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha imagine #x reader #reader insert