#i haven’t learned anything new since like middle school

[bedsyandco]

𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓

✰ PAIRING — fem!reader x quinn hughes

✰ SUMMARY — in which Quinn returns home to Michigan for christmas and runs into his old girlfriend! this takes place christmas ‘23!!

✰ CONTENT — nothing I can think of? potential spelling mistakes bc no matter how much I check I still find them days later

✰ WC — 2.54K

✰ NOTE — inspired by phoebe bridgers’ scott street!! as always I love writing Quinny and I hope you enjoy it!! I don’t like this but … here we are. please do tell me what you thought about it…I’m always curious what you guys think!!

Michagan has always been special. No matter where life took you, returning to Michigan and visiting the city you grew up in, always felt like coming home. Even three years after graduating from university and moving away, nothing compared to the feeling of driving the streets where you had your first fall and scraped your knee open, the streets where you learned to drive for the first time, the park where you had your first kiss. Michigan will always be special and it will always be home but coming back always leaves you with the biggest ache in your chest.

There’s a reason you haven’t been back to Ann Arbor since you graduated. This place held too many memories. Too many “what ifs” or “what could’ve beens” It was like one big memory box, every corner you turned reminded you of something, someone. And while usually you weren’t opposed to taking a stroll down memory lane and being reminiscent about past years, somehow it always led to one year, one summer, one moment, one person. Quinn Hughes.

You met him your freshman year at Michigan, both of you in the same class. You were late to class the first day, uncharacteristic of you and a result of a missed alarm that morning, and you got stuck sitting in the only open seat left, the one next to Quinn. You’re sure it would have been sat in earlier if it wasn’t for the bag he put on it. You still get the urge to laugh when you remember the expression on his face when you approached that very seat. As if he was actually considering having you sit on the floor just so he didn’t have to share his space. Knowing everything you do now, you had no doubt that he had a mental image of Ellen scolding him for his bad manners and that’s the only reason he scrambled to accommodate you.

Somehow as luck would have it you were partnered up for a big project and spent a lot of time together. And Quinn Hughes went from a reluctant seat partner to your closest friend, to the man who you were hopelessly in love with and was lucky enough to call your own. The next two years you had been glued to his side and wherever he went, everyone knew you weren’t far behind.

Perhaps that’s why everyone had a shock when you didn’t follow him to Vancouver when he left after two years. You had many nights that summer where you had debated it, the decision to move to a new country for a guy you had been dating for less than two years. The fact that you even considered it at all should have already been an indication of how much you loved him. But when he did eventually ask if you’d do it, you knew that you couldn’t and turned him down. You had dreams and goals and plans of your own and none of those consisted of moving to Vancouver.

The idea of moving to a new country, in the middle of your degree, where you didn’t know anything or anyone didn’t particularly sound like a joyful experience, no matter how much you loved Quinn. But you also didn’t expect the two years after Quinn left to be as hard as they were. Somehow you had gotten so wrapped up in your relationship that every aspect of your life revolved around him. Where you hung out, who you were friends with, what routes you drive to school. You felt alone when he left, you felt isolated, you felt misunderstood. Because the only way you fit into that life you had built for yourself was if Quinn was next to you, and he wasn’t anymore.

Quinn made it big and moved on to bigger and better things and you were just the girl he left behind that was stupid enough to turn him down when he begged you to go with him. And so the last two years of what was supposed to be the best years of your life turned into one big pity party thrown by everyone you met. People who once envied you for getting to be with him, now pitied you for losing out on him.

You’d only been with him two years and yet he destroyed the memories of the place you called home for the 18 years prior to that. And it wasn’t those last two years and the pitying looks that ruined Michigan for you, it was the fact that they were right. The fact that you still thought about him and those two years you got to have him. The fact that you’ve compared every guy you’ve met and been with to him and none of them have ever measured up. The fact that staying in Michigan only resulted in awkward social situations, a piece of paper stating your degree that you could’ve gotten at any institute, and regrets. Lots of regrets. The fact that every time you come to Michigan, it’s all that you can think about. It haunts you.

And because you like to torture yourself, this year on your annual visit home, you somehow ended up at his favourite cafe. You had spent more time here than anywhere else when you were dating. It was the place you had your first study session, your first date, your first “I love you”, and also your last goodbye.

As fate would have it your first time seeing him since you guys broke up would also be at this café, because as you entered the relatively empty room, it’s as if your whole body could sense him, your eyes shooting to where he was sitting in the corner of the room, a coffee and a bagel in front of him, folding the napkin in front of him as many times as he could until is was small enough to push in between the salt and pepper that was on the table.

You always wondered what it would be like to see him again. What your response would be to those fight, flight or freeze instincts. You briefly considered it…fleeing. But as soon as you laid your eyes on him, you couldn’t do anything but stare. Observe. Admire. You always knew Quinn was going to be handsome once he matured a little bit. Got out of the teen-early adult phase. And while you had seen him on social media occasionally, seeing him over a screen didn’t do him any justice. Nor did it have the same effect on you it’s currently having. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest and walk over to Quinn. As if it recognized that it was the same guy that cherished, loved and swore to protect it all those years ago.

When his gaze shoots up to meet yours, that pounding in your chest ceases completely, leaving you to put your palm over your heart, just to ensure that it was still beating, and to soothe the ache that seeing those green eyes unexpectedly caused. The ache only worsens when his lips tip up into a friendly, familiar smile. His head tilting slightly as he sits back, as if he was beckoning you over and before you had even registered what was happening, your feet began moving in his direction.

“Hey,” you say softly when you reach his table and his lips quirk, obviously amused that after all this time that’s how you decide to greet him.

“Hey. Sit please,” Quinn says, gesturing to the chair across from him and you take a seat

“Didn’t expect to see you here. What are the odds…” you say. It was a few days before Christmas, and you knew that the Canucks had a few days off before then so maybe you shouldn’t be as surprised that Quinn decided to come home early for a few days. You paid a little too much attention to the Canadian team than you would like to admit.

“Yeah, it’s an unexpected surprise for sure. A good one though. I came home for Christmas for a few days, decided to stop by here. I haven’t been here in a while,” Quinn says and you nod.

“Well how are you? How are things? Hockey? The family?” you ask, rambling a bit and Quinn chuckles fondly, he knew it was a nervous habit of yours.

“I’m good. Really good. Hockey is good. The team’s heading in the right direction, better than last season that’s for sure. The family is good. Busier than ever but all happy and healthy,” Quinn replies

“That’s good. Yeah I can imagine. Jack’s breaking records left and right and it’s Lukey’s rookie season. And you’re captain now. Big things happening in the Hughes family,” you say and Quinn nods. If he’s surprised that you know that much about him and his brother’s careers he doesn’t let it show. You briefly wonder if he kept tabs on you too. Wondered what you were doing with your life. Career. Dating.

You then come to the conclusion that he’d probably have a harder time trying to figure out details of your life since it isn’t broadcasted like his are. You were snapped out of your thoughts when the server asks you your order and your cheeks tint a little when you realise you walked through the door and straight over to Quinn without even placing an order. To the server it probably looked like you were meeting him for lunch, so some of the embarrassment fades a little and after you place your order, you turn your attention back to Quinn.

“Congratulations on being named captain by the way. It’s a huge achievement Quinn, and I don’t think it’s any surprise that Vancouver is having the year they’re having after naming you captain,” you say and his cheeks redden slightly, fingers tightening against the coffee cup.

“Thank you. I mean there’s a lot of things going into it. The coaching change, the new additions to the team, new playing structures, I don’t think it’s me necessarily…” Quinn says, smiling sheepishly when he sees the expression on your face. He was never good at taking compliments.

“What about you? I heard you opened your own marketing agency? That’s huge, congratulations.” Quinn says and you can’t keep the smile from spreading across your face

“Thank you. And you heard? From who?” you ask teasingly

“Your mom and my mom still talk. She always asks about you, and reports back to me. I still talk to your brother too so…” Quinn trails off and you gape at him

“You still talk to my brother?” you ask incredulously

“Yeah, not often but we catch up every now and then,” he says and you don’t know if you find it sweet that he still kept in contact with your little brother who looked up to him so much or if you felt a little bitter that he could keep in touch with your brother but not you. If only you knew that most of their conversations were about you anyway.

“What about Josh? Brady? You keep in contact with them right…how are they?” you ask and Quinn smiles. Josh was at Michigan with both of you and you and him still followed each other on social media. You guys were friends, you just understandably drifted a little when you and Quinn broke up. You met Brady one summer at the lake house and you had instantly taken a liking to him.

“Josh is good. See him all the time when I come home in the summer. Brady got married. That’s still so weird to say,” Quinn says with a shake of his head and you laugh.

“I saw! Who would’ve thought he’d be the first one to get married. He looks really happy though. Good for him,” you say and both you and Quinn go quiet for a moment after that. There was a time everyone had thought the two of you would be the first ones to get married. You wonder if Quinn’s mind wandered to the same place yours did. To those 2AM conversations you had about your future, what type of house you want, a dog, how many kids. Your relationship with Quinn had always progressed fast, and you had no doubt that if you did follow him to Vancouver, you would have ended up engaged a summer or two after, and probably got married by now. Your heart stings thinking about it.

Thinking about how if you made one or two choices differently you could’ve been married to the man sitting across from you. You could have kissed his bruises after a game, nursed his injuries instead of checking for updates on when he was set to return because you were worried and too scared to reach out and ask him how he was doing. You could have been there to celebrate his milestones with him instead of slyly liking the posts on social media and hoping he would see it and know how proud you were of him. You could have had a lot of things…in another life. If you had done things differently.

Your thoughts get interrupted by the server placing your cup of coffee on the table and you take that as an opportunity to escape. There was no use in sitting here and torturing yourself by daydreaming about all the things you could’ve done differently. You couldn’t change them. You just had to move on and live with them.

“I should get going. This was a pit stop on the way to meeting a friend, and I’m running a bit late. It was nice seeing you, Quinn. Don’t be a stranger,” you say, standing up and grabbing your coffee, knowing this was likely the last time you were going to see him in who knows how long? Another five years? Maybe forever…

“Yeah, you too. Happy holidays and tell your parents I say hi,” Quinn says and you nod, grabbing your cup and practically sprinting out of the café

When you get to your car, you take a moment to collect yourself, clenching the steering wheel tight and taking a shaky breath. You hesitate for a moment before switching on the car and driving away from the cafe. Away from him. And the more distance gets put between you and him, the more you wonder about the next time you return to Michigan. And the time after that. You wonder if you’ll always have a heavy heart when coming home. If you’ll always have a hole in your heart that Quinn used to occupy. If you’ll always think about all the things you wish you could go back and change. Things you wish you could do differently.

And you wonder if this exchange will be the little cherry on top of the “regretting my life choices” cake. If you’ll come back next Christmas and think about how you just had a chance to fix all the mistakes you made. Had a chance to reconnect with the one you let slip away. Had a chance to rectify all those regrets that always plague your mind and you just…didn't.

#quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes oneshot #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine #nhl x reader #Spotify

[wrtingsoftheunknown]

Vincent Sinclair HC

Vincent Sinclair hc SFW and NSFW

I’ve haven’t  been seeing my boy get repped recently so I have to do it myself. My first time writing something on here or towards this character ,I promise I will get better y'al,l I made this super quickly not proofread oops.

SFW

-While he can be insecure about his face he definitely has an ego from being the favorite child and having perfected his craft.

Lester drags him out to go for a ride around town or force him to come to his place for some quality brother time (Bo joins every now and then but wants peace and quiet dammit )

‘I know a lot of people have him learn sign language but I think he either writes what he wants to say, speaks as best as he can, or gestures, ( he was born in the south to parents that I don't think cared about communicating with him too much but he could have picked it up later in life maybe in his teen years or middle school era)

More sadistic than Bo when it comes to killing, he doesn't care if they are dead or alive when working on them and takes satisfaction in the result of his work

He prefers to work in silence but you can catch him humming now and then some country song or a guilty pleasure pop song from the 80’s( I see you Vince)

I think he partakes in multiple forms of art besides wax work.We see he’s able to paint, draw, but he also  takes pictures, , sews, writes, makes videos, anything artistic he’s learning and keeping up with new techniques.

Since he takes video of the killings at times I think they sell them as snuff films to make extra cash on top of stealing and selling victims stuff. (At least that’s what I thought when I first watched the film anyone else or just me)

Rarely happens but will keep victims that interest him like Bo ,but dispose of them when they get boring  or no longer match up the ideal version of them in his head.

-Does want a lifelong partner, the white wedding and picket fence, kids,  but knows it might be difficult with the line of work he does.

- He can talk but only does when it’s important or to emphasize something. He does have a southern draw like Bo and I imagine his voice to sound similar but raspier, maybe deeper/ quieter from not using it as much.

-like I said earlier you have to really catch his attention and be able to hold it for more than a week, if that happens then he’s obsessed and protective maybe a little too over protective.

Does indeed have a hair care routine I believe this full throttle and no one can can tell me otherwise I'm not listening.

NSFW

I don't know if he’s a virgin, I don't think he is something is telling me he isn't, but i’m not sure

He has no problem with nudity, bodies are seen as art, there's not as much of a sexual connotation with them as with Bo and Lester .

He wants to be in love with the person he is intimate with, he wants to be worship and worship his muse.

Drawings  of his partner naked as well as in the midst of a passionate night, he might tease them all night to make sure the sketch is as life like and accurate as possible

Good size and thick that's all I gotta say

Praise kink hard core, hearing his partner call him a good boy or how he makes them feel so good he will crumble

He starts slow and sensual, enjoys the control he has and having someone at his power.

I think he will edge you and leave you high and dry when you act out but he always caves by the end of the day and gives you what you need.

Can last a long time surprisingly

Mainly a giver but someone please for the love of god give this man the nastiest had he’s ever received will make the prettiest noises 

Is down to try anything new and more open about sex than you would think.

When he’s horny he comes up behind his partner and starts caressing every inch he can reach, while resting his chin on their shoulder acting as innocent as he can.

#vincent sinclair #house of wax #vincent sinclair x reader #headcanon #horror #masked men #country man #bo sinclair #lester sinclair #x reader

[haikyuufanficwriting]

Chapter 8: Ushijima

Prompt: Reader falls asleep on Character’s shoulder Character: Ushijima _________________

Since starting your third year at Shiratorizawa Academy, you can’t remember the last time you’ve gotten a proper amount of sleep.

Much less sleep in general.

Being in such a prestigious school, of course the workload would be bigger than any average high school. You just didn’t expect to be struggling this hard.

Back in middle school, you remember being levels above your peers. Maybe it was the hours your parents spent drilling you at home, or just natural talent, but you’re pretty confident that your reputation half brought you here.

But as you would learn, reputation and talent could only take you so far.

With your house being way too far to walk or bus, your parents allowed you to stay in one of the schools many dorms. While you were ecstatic about your new freedom, it did have some pitfalls.

Pitfalls being that your study habits were only enforced by your parents. So as any normal teenager would, you started to become lazy. And your grades began to slip.

Fortunately for you, there was rule where students had to obtain a certain average by the end of the year, or they would be kicked. That rule definitely blew some smoke up your ass, because during your first and second year, you did your absolute best to keep above that average. Which you did. Fairly well, too.

But entering your third and final year, you were just so tired. All of the motivation and strength seemed to vanish the harder your classes became. You couldn’t understand your subjects, which lead the unhealthy habit of pulling all nighters, trying to grasp the material on your own.

Eventually, your sleeping schedule had become so messed up that you were only powering on coffee and instant noodles just to get through the school day. And like a deadly cycle, certain classes and concepts were harder to comprehend the longer your brain was starved of sleep.  

One example being. Advanced Functions.

For the life of you, you just couldn’t seem to understand anything in that class. No matter how hard you tried to concentrate, tried to focus, it was always in one ear out the other. The textbook seemed so convoluted that it only managed to confuse you further, so studying on your own was a no go.

Needless to say, you weren’t even close to passing this class, and final exams were coming soon. You absolutely needed to do well in this, or else you’d get a letter sent home to your parents, and you can’t even imagine what they’d do to you.

Thankfully, your teacher had the same thought. After class ended, he called you over to his desk.

“I’ve asked a student in this class if they’d be willing to tutor you. I haven’t told them anything about your grades, just that you need some help. They’re available to work with you on Tuesdays in the library. Will that be alright with you?” You manage to keep your face passive and devoid of any emotion. Honestly, you weren’t exactly keen to be tutored, but with your grades this low, you’re really don’t have any other choice other than to throw away your pride and bite the bullet.

“Yes, thank you Sensei, that would be perfect.” You bow and make your exit, having your respectful smile drop the second your face is out of view. You sigh heavily as you made your way to your dorm.

You just hope whoever’s tutoring you can help make sense of this nonsense.

~~

Ushijima was a busy man. Key word was. After losing to Karasuno, the time he needed spend in the gym was significantly less than before. Of course, he went to the gym to practice regularly anyways, working on anything and everything to improve. But, after the coach found out, he told Ushijima to relax and take a break, claiming that he should take this time to rest and relax. Just for a couple weeks, and to take time focusing on his studies.

The only problem was, he didn’t need to focus on his studies. Or relax. He already had highest marks in most of his classes, and stress had never been an issue for him. While most ordinary students could study everything under two hours, he could. While most couldn’t function with five or less hours of sleep, he did. Ushijima had gotten so used to his hectic timetable, that having a huge chunk of it missing was extremely odd to him. Like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“This is your time to find a hobby, Wakatoshi-kun.” Tendou had told him, to which he only tilted his head in confusion.

“But I do have a-”

“One that isn’t volleyball.” That made him pause. A hobby… That wasn’t volleyball?

Was there really anything?

If there was, he couldn’t think of one.

“How do I find a hobby?” He asks, causing Tendou to hum.

“You gotta try different things out. See if you like it or not.” Ushijima nods, absorbing the advice. It was good advice, but it did bring up an important question.

What’s one thing he could try?

That stuck with him, circling his head for the rest of the day. There seemed to be too many and none all at once. Even if he did find some that seemed interesting, which would he do first? Could he do multiple at once to become more efficient? What if he liked a new hobby but had to stop due to his schedule becoming normal again? If that’s a possibility, what was even the point of trying to find something new?

Ushijima was close to exploding with all the questions that he couldn’t answer and was about to call Tendou again for help, at least until his advanced functions teacher called him to his desk.

“Ushijima-kun, I need your help with something. There’s a student in this class, (Name), who needs a little help understanding the material. Since your season is over and you’re fairly good at the subject, do you think you could help her out?”

As if the gods heard his cries for help, an opportunity had dropped on his lap. But did tutoring count as a hobby? It seemed like a commitment too…

‘You gotta try different things out. See if you like it or not.’ Tendou’s words ring in Ushijima’s head. Well, if he had to try different things out, this seemed like a good start. With the thought being the final push, he agrees with a solemn nod.

“I don’t have a problem with it.”

~~

You jerk awake from the bell ringing loudly in your ear. You confusedly look around to see students getting up and collecting their items around you, signaling in your brain that you must’ve fallen asleep in class again, and you slept through yet another lecture.

Guess I’ll be staying up late again…

You yawn, standing and picking up your bag before making your way out of the class, about to go the cafeteria, at least until you feel your phone vibrating in your pocket.

Was someone calling you?

Confused, you pull it out to hear a soft alarm and text across your screen in dark bold letters reading ‘Tutoring today at the library!’ causing your eyes to widen. You had completely forgotten about it! You let out a slur of curses as you rush up the stairs to the library, hoping that you didn’t make your tutor wait too long.

Practically slamming the library door open, you speed walk to the study area of the library, searching the students that littered the desks, seeing if you recognized anyone from your class. You stand there for a couple minutes longer than necessary, with your extremely heavy eyelids making it considerably difficult to scan peoples faces, but after not seeing anyone at first glance, you start to walk around the area. You don’t know how much time passes until someone calls out to you.

“(Name)-san.” The deep voice makes you jump far harder than it should’ve, with you almost dropping your school bag. You collect yourself as fast as you could and turn your head to the sound, finding none other than the star of the school.

Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Your brain blanks as you continue to stare at him, your mind too tired and too shocked to put together sentences. After a couple minutes of silence, he tilts his head, clearly waiting for your response. That manages to kick your brain into gear.

“Wakatoshi-san.” Your voice is meek, and your face flushes at how stupid you sound. If Ushijima sees your cringe, he doesn’t acknowledge it.

“I’m glad I found you. I thought for a moment you had forgotten about our session.” His comment confirms your suspicions, but it only manages to disorientate you further.

You just never would’ve assumed that the Ushiwaka, the ace and captain of this powerhouse school, was wasting his time tutoring you. You mean, you’re not entirely surprised he was picked to help, he was one of the smartest in your class, (You’re fairly certain he’s a robot, how could someone be so good at everything?) but you just thought he would be way too busy to help anyone.

You also thought with his personality he wouldn’t want to help anybody. Honestly, you’re just confused as to why he even agreed to help you at all. Maybe to put it on his resume?

You don’t know, you assumed that being a prodigy in sport was enough, but you digress.

“Come, I’ve already set up a table.” He motions you to follow him, and with a soft ‘alright’, you follow him to a more secluded part of the study area, with a single desk surrounded by bookshelves, each stocked to the brim with dusty old books. On the desk was you assume his study books and utensils neatly organised. Of course he was a neat freak.

You sit in the chair just across from his, feeling your body almost go limp in exhaustion the second you sit down. You wait until he settles himself and opens one of his books. Your brain once more begins to fail you as you stupidly watch him flip through pages, basically falling asleep with your eyes open. You don’t even realize until you hear a sharp knock on the table.

“(Name)-san?” The voice suddenly comes into focus and you snap up. “Y-yes?”

“Aren’t you going to pull out your books?” Ushijima asks, face stoic as ever. You stutter out a slightly slurred reply as you open your school bag and search for your books.

Only to not find your math books, but your biology books. You scrunch your nose in confusion. It takes your brain a couple of seconds to realize what you did.

You switched your books on accident.

Oh, how badly you want to curl up and cry right now.

Not only was it embarrassing to have one the most popular boys in school tutor you, but to also act like a total ditz was almost too much for you to take. It’s almost like the gods want to mess with you for shits and giggles at this point.

You have to slowly put your bag down, and look back to your tutor, who’s been staring at you for the past few minutes now.

“Wakatoshi-san, I just realized I brought the wrong books by accident. I’m sorry but I’ll have to go back to my dorms to get the right ones.” You give him what you hope is an apologetic smile and begin to stand up, until his voices rings in your ear once more.

“That’s not necessary.” You pause.

“Excuse me?”

“We’ve already wasted enough time as it is. I have no problem sharing my books for this session.” With that he pulls out the chair right next to him and offers the seat.

You’re pretty sure almost every girl would kill to be in your position right now. You can’t stop the blush that forms on your tired face.

“Oh-uh… ah, thank y-you.” You finally managed to get out, wanting to slap yourself subconsciously as you take the seat next to him. The second you sit down; your overworked brain is hit by so many things at once.

He smells nice. Like really nice. You definitely wouldn’t mind curling up to that. Not to mention, his warmth.

You can feel the warmth coming off him in waves.

Sleeping next to that would be so comforting…

You’re snapped out of your thoughts again when you hear a textbook being slid over to you. If you were a little more awake then you are now, you would realize how intimate this was. Sharing a book caused you to be a lot closer than necessary, but of course with you being sleep deprived and Ushijima being Ushijima, neither of you commented.

“So, what are you having troubles in?” He asked, and you go to answer, only to be met with emptiness.

You were so confused; you didn’t even know what you were confused about. You mentally kick yourself. That’s a new low.

Of course, not wanting the captain to know how much a dumbass you were, you responded, “The first couple chapters really messed with me.” Which isn’t a lie, you just didn’t mention the rest of the chapters that messed you up as well. He nods and goes to the beginning. Then begins to explain the main concepts of the chapters.

“A polynomial function has specific characteristics that define them from another other kind of function. With those characteristics being a domain of real numbers, a possibility of the range being restricted by both upper and lower bounds, and these functions do not have horizontal…”

You hear his words turn into nothing but mixed sounds as he continued to explain. As much as you tried to focus, you feel your eyelids becoming impossible heavy. You were trying, you really were, even pinching yourself ever once in a while and biting the inside of your mouth as hard as possible, but with Ushijima’s voice this low and soothing, you were fighting a losing battle. You didn’t expect that when he wasn’t scaring you out of sleep, that his voice was actually extremely nice to listen too.

Not to mention his unexpected but totally welcomed comforting aura, his warmth, his smell and the quiet atmosphere, they were all begging you to let go and leave the realm of the conscious. While you were too busy fighting the war, Ushijima was too focused on the book and pointing out examples that he didn’t even realize.

You only manage to last a couple more minutes, until you see nothing but long awaited black.

~~

“…Then there’s quartic, quintic, so on and so forth. There are polynomials bigger than these, but the likely not to appear on the exam so we don’t have to cover them. Between these main five functions there are subdivision that we can also use to characterize them, for example-” Ushijima is cut off by a warm pressure falling on his arm. He turns confused to find you, positively knocked out and now using his arm as a pillow. His thought process is cut off.

Well this is… a development.

Ushijima figured you were tired. In fact, he had known for a long time, that you weren’t getting the sleep you needed. Just a quick glance in class, or talking to you, your slurred speech and heavy eyes, made it easy for anybody to figure out. However, he didn’t think it was to the point of passing out anywhere and everywhere.

He’d be impressed if he wasn’t inherently worried.

He been around people who were sleep deprived, previous senpais and enthusiastic kouhai’s who couldn’t get enough of volleyball, and it does terrible things to brain. Once it had been the point of someone ending up in the hospital.

Ushijima watched you with worried thoughts swirling his mind, as you had a look of absolute comfort on your face, even sleepily nuzzling your face into his arm, which caused him to stare at you a couple seconds above normalcy.

His slightly weird stare was cut off by the bell, which did put his thoughts back into gear. What was he supposed to do? Wake you? Call a teacher?

Well, one things for sure, he couldn’t just leave you here.

So, seeing this as the best course of action, he attempted to wake you.

“…(Name)-san…” He said gently, nudging you with the arm you were sleeping on, you made some sounds of discomfort, before rubbing you nose into his arm again and falling back to sleep.

It was almost cute. Almost.

“(Name)-san.” Ushijima says with a little more finality, which does cause you stir a little more, even causing you to open your eyes a little, but he could tell you were far from awake.

“She’ll be right with you.” You breathe out, which does make Ushijima lips quirk up the tiniest bit.

“(Name)-san, you have to wake up.” He’s reached his regular loudness now, hoping that he wouldn’t have to raise it higher to get you to wake. Thankfully, you manage to open your eyes fully, but is was safe to say that you weren’t completely conscious. You were almost like in a drunken state, with your pupils blown wide and the dazed expression you wore. Looking at you, Ushijima then decided what he needed to do. He couldn’t possibly let you go to class like this, not when you needed something so vital to the brain.

He grabs you by the shoulders to bring your head off him, making sure you don’t wobble too much. Once he’s sure you won’t bang your head on the table, he gets up and starts to collect your things.

“Hm? Is the session over?” You slur, eyes have lidded as you watch him pick up your bag.

“Yes.”

“Did I do well?” You ask with a tired smile, clearly not remembering what happened. Or what didn’t happen. For reasons even he didn’t know, Ushijima decides to humor you.

“Yes.” You raise your arms in the air in happiness, letting out an excited ‘yay!’ in a shushed voice, which Ushijima is extremely grateful for, as he didn’t want to cause a ruckus in the library.

He turns back to you. “Can you stand?” His question turns your mood for some reason, and you huff like a child. “’Course I can stand! Who d’you take me for?” And very quickly, as if to prove your point, you stand from your seat, only for your mind to spin and knees to wobble. Out of reflex to stop you from falling, Ushijima grabs your waist to steady you.

You two stand like that for a while, with your bodies a lot closer than they should’ve been. After what felt like an eternity, you break out into a goofy yet proud smile.

“See? Told ya I could stand.” Ushijima face is passive at best and remains silent. Only giving you a nod while he grabs his stuff along with yours as you two make it out of the library. He holds onto your waist to make sure you don’t fall when walking, but when he secures that you can walk, albeit a little slow, he still doesn’t let go. Walking through the halls and out to the dorms you both we’re met with a lot of stares. And whispers.

Not that either of you noticed.

After he’s exited the school and begins to walk to the girl’s dorms.

“What is your dorm number?” Ushijima asks, for you to snap out of whatever trance you were in.

“Uhhh… red… I think…” He looks at you, visibly confused.

“What?” You look at him back, clearly trying to think through the mess that was your brain.

“Wait… What did you ask me?” Ushijima has to keep in a sigh.

“Your dorm number.”

“Oh… That’s… Uhh… four…thirty-one.” You say.

“(Name)-san, there’s only two floors.” You two now stand in the front of the girls’ dorms, and since it was lunch hour, the likelihood that someone would be there, was considerably low, which did save Ushijima the explanation. You try to articulate a proper answer, but your brain this melted, Ushijima didn’t really have high hopes. So instead, he let go of you for a second, to read the names on the lists of the many mailboxes that littered the entrance hall. After a couple minutes, he found your name.

“208.” He says. Not even close. He watches the look of realization appear on your face.

“Ohhh, yeah that’s right!” He doesn’t hold back the sigh this time, grabbing your hand, and bringing you up to your dorm. Surprisingly, the dorm is unlocked, but you must’ve forgotten to lock it this morning when you left. He opens it and leads you in. You just follow in after him and just stare, clearly not knowing what to do.

Ushijima drops your things on your desk and takes you and sits you on your lower bunk bed.

“You should stay here and rest. You don’t have to worry about your next class, I’ll go and tell your teacher that you’re not feeling well.” He tells you, but like before, you just stare at him, telling him its just going in one ear and out the other. Out of the corner of his eye, he’s spots a random notepad and pencil. Ushijima turns away from you and takes the notepad and pencil.

“I’ll just write this down for you, so you can read it when you are in a correct state of mind. I hope you can learn to have a proper sleep schedule, it’s extremely vital to your health and not sleeping is actually- ” When he turns to you again to place the note, he finds you just as before. Knocked out on your bed, not even lifting your legs from the ground.

Ushijima watches you again for more than he cared to admit, before taking his stuff and leaving your room.

And to think he just wanted to try something new…

~~

You slowly open your eyes, to find yourself on your bed and still in uniform. You sit up, confusion hitting you hard.

How did I get here? What day is it? What time is it? How long did I sleep for?

You started panicking a little, at least until you spot a piece of folded paper on your nightstand. Curious, you open it.

(Name)-san, you fell asleep during our session, and I didn’t feel it was acceptable to leave you, so I brought you back to your dorm. I told your teachers that you weren’t feeling well, so please feel free to relax and rest. I strongly recommend that you get a proper sleep schedule, as what you are doing is dangerous.

We’ll continue our tutoring next Tuesday, hopefully you should feel better by then.

Ushijima Wakatoshi

You might just have cardiac arrest.

#fanfic #haikyuu #writing prompt #ushijima x reader #haikyuu fluff #drabble #humour

[yuurei20]

Jade and Floyd Info Compilation part 10: Azul (pt1)

Floyd says that while he, Jade and Azul have been classmates since elementary school he wouldn’t describe them as childhood friends because he barely knew Azul existed until just before they started middle school.

The drama of Book 3 revolves around Azul trying to get a photo from an elementary school field trip removed from a Coral Sea museum, but Floyd says he likes the old Azul because “he’d make a better meal than the one we’ve got now.”

It seems both twins have been to the restaurant run by Azul’s family, but Floyd says that the only thing he remembers is that Azul hated it.

In Book 3 we learn that the twins have signed an NDA covering Azul’s past, which is possibly why Jade refuses to tell Vil how it is that they and Azul met. When asked, he says, “I haven’t the foggiest idea. It’s completely slipped my mind.” Vil is incredulous.

Jade and Floyd both encourage Azul to change into his mer-form at the end of Book 3, with Jade saying that “No one would see the cute chubby little merman in the picture and connect that it’s you,” and Floyd asking why he limits himself to two legs when he can have eight.

In Harveston Jade tries a spiced stew and reflects on how Azul could probably identify all its ingredients if he were there.

Jade says that Azul is “as hardworking as it gets” and will do anything to achieve his goals. “It’s an easily misunderstood temperament, you see.”

Jade encourages Grim to have faith in Azul in Book 4.

Jade and Azul work well together, ganging up on Jamil on the subject of introducing a new dish to Mostro Lounge (despite Jamil’s protests) and managing to convince Idia to keep the Ignihyde Halloween display running (because they have produced a pamphlet that the are selling to visitors, which features Ignihyde’s projection mapping set up).

They also come together to tease Riddle during Spectral Soiree about a surprisingly impassioned speech concerning Azul, and Jade steps in to distract Cater, who threatens to interrupt Azul’s efforts to influence Kalim during Vargas Camp 2.

During the drama of the camp, Jade recommends that he and Azul escape the Vargas Monster by hiding in the lake, offering no solution for Vil and Trey.

When Azul tries to leverage his supply of magestones to help Vil and Trey fight the monster, Jade assures them that Azul is aware that it is an emergency. “I’m sure the terms will be more than favorable. Isn’t that right, Azul?”

When Vil insists on working at Mostro Lounge for only two days rather than the five days that Azul is asking, Jade interjects with the idea that, if they are to compromise to suit Vil’s schedule, they will require exclusive sales rights to his homemade smoothies.

Both Azul and Vil agree with Jade’s compromise.

Sometimes Jade will keep Azul from derailing conversations, such as when they first hear about Kalim’s “absurdly marketable” unique magic and when Azul tries to turn a conversation about the Coral Sea into a tourism opportunity.

Floyd tells Ortho about a time that he hydro-dipped Azul’s hat.

Azul was less than pleased and returned his hat to its usual appearance without ever trying it on, but Floyd is undeterred and says that the next time he comes up with an interesting idea, he will be testing it out on Azul.

We see him attempt just that in the Port Fest event when, after enjoying the form of performance taught to them by Jack, Floyd immediately invites Azul to join them the next time. (Azul is reluctant but Jade follows with, “We’re in,” to Azul’s displeasure.)

Floyd says he finds it hilarious how Azul will go around “like some kinda shark in guppy’s clothing” when important visitors are on campus for ceremonies.

Floyd also has a voice line about giving a stone that he made in alchemy class to Azul that he assumes was worth “a ton of thaumarks,” because Azul was seriously happy to receive it.

#twstfacts #Floyd Leech #Jade Leech #twstjade #twstfloyd #jadefacts #floydfacts

[yaut-jaknowit]

It's All About Size

Pairings: Mai'tuiudh (Male Yautja) x Male Reader

Warnings: very suggestive themes, HEAVY size kink, sprinkles of praise, mlm, horny reader

Word Count: 1981

Summary: You're new to the realm of living out in space, stuck with only one other person on the ship. A large, blue Yautja, who trains on a regular basis. He easily dwarfs you. You're tall for a human but not for this Yautja. It's been brewing within your mind for a while now, ever since he picked you up from earth. Mia'tuiudh isn't as oblivious as you may hope he is. You won't be complaining in the end.

Author Note: I was scrolling through the Yautja tag when I stumbled upon an amazing idea. Yautja's and size kink. It's a main thing about them. Also, if you guys got ideas, don't be afraid to shove them into my inbox. It's currently open. I'm happy to write!

P.S. I'm still new to writing same-sex relationship's. If you guys can give me help, that would be amazing! Thank you

Dedicated to @kissmyaft. Thank you for this wonderful idea! You should check out my masterlist, wink-wink. Most of my stuff is gender neutral, just look at the pairings :)

Masterlist

Ao3

The calming noise of a blade sliding through a sharpener washed over you. It’s handle held firmly within your grasp. You weren’t no hunter, compared to the bulky beast honing his skills before you. That didn’t stop him from teaching the ways to be a hunter. If you were going to be on his ship, share his bed and food, you were going to learn. That’s what he told you on the first day.

Said alien danced before you, knocking a drone away from him. Another came up to zap at his glistening scales yet the Yautja was already in motion. Your eyes watched as he easily defended himself from these sparring drones.

Blood started to head south within your body. Even as tall as you are for a man, Mai’tuiudh towered over you. You haven’t met any others of his kind. It made you wonder if he average or not for his own height. Not that it bothered you. Not at all.

Red dusted your cheeks once you felt your pants tighten. Curses already formed within your head as you spun around. You faced the workbench in the back of the sparring room and focused on sharping the hunting knife in your hand.

Mai stopped what he was doing when an ambrosial scent washed over him. A drone was able to zap him on the back. Pain shocked through his system, but he didn’t even feel it. The smell drawing him in.

With a short click of his tusks, the drones stopped moving. They quietly returned back to their holes in the wall. His eyes shot over to the only other being on his ship. A minute smirk growing on his mandibles. Mai has had theories about the ooman. But this sealed his fate to Mai.

Long strides of powerful legs carried Mai easily over to oblivious ooman. Mai was a Yautja of action. He wasn’t about to dance around the ooman. But at the same time, why not tease you? Have some fun along the way. Oh, that thought made his chest rumble.

You tensed at the impossibly close noise, head snapping towards the origin. A gasp almost tore at your throat. There, in all his glory, stood Mai’tuiudh. His navy-blue chest rising and falling with each deep breath. Moisture stuck to his scales like a second skin; not sweat but humidity from the ship. Burnt orange eyes set on you. Your lips pressed together at the sight before you.

It took all of your willpower not to let your knees collapse underneath you. That didn’t stop them from shaking. “Hey-hey, uh, hey. Um, so. What’s up?” God, you were a mess. Just at the sight of him and you were acting like you were asking a girl out back in middle school.

Yet, the blue Yautja didn’t say anything. Mai just kept watching you with those striking eyes of his. His mandibles barely twitched.

Confused, maybe a little worked up too, you slowly turned back around to the work bench. It wasn’t unusual for the Yautja to be silent. He was a hunter after all. Yet, you were suspicious of his actions. But, these knives and whatnot won’t sharpen themselves. He’ll either get bored or finally speak when he wanted to.

Hands rested on your hips. Warmth washed over your back as a blazing body pressed up into you. A gasp finally scratched at your throat. Your hands slapped down on the metal bench and try to grasp it. Heat raced through your veins at the feeling of him. “Ma-Mai, what a-“ his claws start to press into your skin. You force yourself to bite your bottom lip to stop from moaning.

Your growing erection jumped at the feel of Mai. Said alien made it worse. Mai tugged you flushed with his moist scales and placed his jaw on top of your head. One of his arms slid around your torso and held you there. Shit, he’s so big.

He tasted the heavy air and let his chest rumbled. You smelled divine, right for the taking. Yet, he stayed there. “Aren’t you suppose to be sharpening my weapons?” he purred into your ear. Your entire body trembled, one that he relished in. Mai felt his own body behave in return at yours.

“It’s, it’s really ha-hard to focus… when you’re pres-sed up against me,” you stuttered, hands shakily reaching out to grasp the sharpener. Paya, if he knew you were going to react like this, he should’ve done this a long time ago. He’s had his suspicions for awhile now. It was many rotations after you joined him.

Mai ignored what you had told him. “Tell me, why are you behaving this way? If you do, I’ll let you go.” You didn’t want him to let go. On the other hand, to save yourself the growing embarrassment, you would be forced to tell him. If only the ground would open up and swallow you whole. Worst of all, it had to be the truth as well. Mai could smell when you lied.

A short purr rumbled from his chest. The vibrations rolled over your sensitive skin before hitting your hardening cock. Your eyes rolled back, throat closing before any sounds could escape. You bite your bottom lip so hard you tasted blood. Oh fuck, you were in some deep trouble now. You couldn’t trust your voice now, without making a noise that would embarrass you.

The Yautja made a soft noise and peered over your shoulder to look you in the eye. When you absolutely refused to do that, head turned away, he purred again. Same reaction from your body.

Fuck! You had to get him off of you. Now. He was far stronger than you, had the height advantage, and skills to put you face first into the ground. God, that made everything worse.

With reddened cheeks and no dignity left, you spilled what you hidden deep. “Size kink!” you shouted at first, voice two notches higher. “I have a-a size kink, alright?” Those words were said with such defeat. At the same time though, it felt like a huge weight was lifted off of your shoulders. Though, the embarrassment now would kill you.

Since you finally exposed yourself to the only other being on this spaceship, you believed he would release you. No, he didn’t. Mai tightened his grasp and placed his chin back on your head. “Hmm, you like the fact I’m bigger than you? Stronger than you? The fact I can easily dominate you?” He was loving every second of this. One of your hands grasped at the one on your stomach. His claws biting into your skin when you did. How did he know? Those words…

“Ever since I’ve been to earth, I’ve done my fair share of reading. A smart hunter researches before the hunt,” he mumbled. The hand on your stomach petting at the skin there. Your hormones were going haywire at this point.

That means he’s known almost this entire time.

Since that day, things have changed. You had spilled your hidden secret to him, one he’ll forever tease you about. You, a ooman, loving his size and strength. Though, nothing happened afterwards. You were nervous on the whole ordeal. That doesn’t stop him from randomly coming up behind you, hands skating over your skin. Purrs vibrating your skin. It makes you ache for him. But you never had the balls to ask or even suggest such a thing.

Water dripped down the toned body of Mai’tuiudh. The blue Yautja shook his head, droplets splashing about in the washroom. His dark tresses slapping against his hide. Your eyes refused to move away from his handsome frame; no matter how hard you tried. Everything about him screamed power.

His perfectly shaped ass was facing you as the Yautja bent over to pick his discarded loin cloth up. You would happily take a bite out of it. Your eyes widened at that thought. With a disappointing huff to yourself, you refocused on the tablet before you. Sometimes you could be unhinged.

The familiar musk Mai produced washed over you. You took in a deep breath at that and softly closed your eyes. It’s heavy and fills the room due to the humidity.

There was the soft pitter-patter of Mai’s wet feet as he moved around. Mai dropped his loin cloth somewhere to the side then headed towards you. You didn’t think much of it as you opened your eyes and continued screwing about on your tablet. A simple game pulled up for the fun of it. You have to keep yourself busy or else you’ll go made out here in space.

Two blue legs appeared in the edge of your vision. A brow was softly raised at this but you held strong. If you happened to look up, you might get caught looking. He would tease you all over again.

Mai just stood there, burning eyes set solely on you. His hands twitched at his sides. He wanted you to want him the same way he does. The ache that resonated deep within his bones. It made him want to touch you, tease your softer skin, lick it. Draw out those light noise you believe he doesn’t hear while you’re in the bathroom alone. He wanted to fill you, keep you close in his arms. Be his mate.

With two easy strides down further into the concave bed, he knelt down between your open legs. You kept your eyes glue to the device in hand. Your body tensed, hands grasping the tablet a little too hard. What in the world was he doing?!

Blue fingers wrapped around the top of the tablet and pushed it down. When you still refused to look him in the eye, he used that same hand to tilt your chin up at him. Your eyes locked onto his almost immediately, biting your bottom lip at the sight.

He continued to crawl forward, staying on the balls of his feet. As he did so, you were forced to lay back on the pelts around you. “Good boy,” he whispered and placed his free arm next to your head. At those words, your brain short circuited. All you could hear was him chuckling.

When a warm palm touched your thigh, you snapped back to reality, gazing up at the large Yautja. Mai snaked his hand up, pushing up the hem of your t-shirt. Claws skated over your sensitive stomach before stopping. His entire paw covered almost all of your belly, thumb gently stroking the skin there. He leaned down, creating a curtain with his tresses around the two of you. “Tell me to stop if you don’t want this. I’ll stop,” he clicked lowly, eyes boring into yours.

You took great notice of him. His bulky body hovering over yours, easily swallowing you in his shadow. Hand able to take up almost all of your stomach. If he wanted to, he could easily pin you down and fuck you with his size alone; plus his strength, you would never stand a chance against him. No, instead, he was asking.

One final look into his burnt orange eyes. You reached out, discarding the tablet to the side, and hooked your arm around the back of his neck. “Please don’t stop.”

#yautja #yautja x reader #yautja x #yautja x human #yautja x you #male reader #yautja x male reader #male predator #predator #male yautja

[kooktrash]

omg hi i was the one who sent in the spooky request 🫣 here it is again bby HAHA 💘:

could u please do yandere!neighbor taehyung x innocent reader where he helps her around the house a lot (chores, homework, etc) just so he can have an snoop around her things and spy on her. reader is also very innocent/naive and tae takes advantage of this by slowly corrupting her.

one day tae steals a spare key and makes it a nightly thing to visit reader and touch her while she’s sleeping. usually, he’s slick about it and even drugs her on some nights to make sure she stays asleep. until one day, reader wakes up in the middle of the night to tae in between her legs and u know the drill hehe the rest is up really up to u dear author 🖤✨

sickening love | kim taehyung

drabble: SMUT, DUBCON, SOMNOPHILIA [do not read if uncomfortable], oral sex [f recieving], manipulation, yandere Taehyung, breaks into y/n’s house, neighbor Tae, obsessed Tae, naive y/n, gaslighting, etc.

It had started with a knock at first. A simple and gorgeous smile on his face as he introduced himself to his new neighbor. Of course you hadn’t known that he was infatuated the day he saw you moving in exactly two months ago. It had been a slow, calculated first meeting. He had dressed in his best clothes, styled his hair more than usual, wore expensive perfume. All just to say hello to you. Now, he’s not sure if he could ever live without you. Who else would protect your nativity and corrupt your innocence? Surely not any of this so-called close friends of yours. The ones he’d grind his teeth at when one would sleep over and he’d have to leave. He snaked his way into your life by doing small favors for you. He learned your schedule early on, always making sure you ride in the elevator together every morning and afternoon. Of course you didn’t know he had no reason to do any of that. He does keep secrets from you but once you’re together he’ll be honest.

“I can’t do any more Tae, please can we take a break?” You asked one evening as he helped you with your homework. You were still in college, young and 21, too trusting that’s for sure. He was older but not by much, even if he acted like your caretaker and you let him. Why? Because you didn’t know how to be independent and Taehyung loved that. It was your first time living alone. Your life had always been sheltered not only by your parents but by friends too. You’d always had a sense of innocence around you. Too trusting because nobody in your life had ever done anything to deliberately hurt you and Taehyung would do the same. Taehyung basically forced himself into your everyday life and you hadn’t even realized it. Your friends told you it was strange but maybe you were naive and too trusting. Never being on your own you haven’t learned how to truly be independent so it was easy to depend on Taehyung, ultimately a stranger.

“You’re almost done sweetie, I can get you a little snack if you’d like,” he said with a little smile as he pet your head already moving to stand up. You were finishing up an exam on your laptop that you had been stalling till the last minute. Taehyung was the one who offered to help you since he’d taken the exact same quiz when he took the class in college. In truth though, he didn’t even attend the same university that you did when he was in school. He came back from the kitchen holding a plate of cut fruit and a glass of water. You reached for the fork but he got to it before you could and fed a piece to you. It went on like this until you finished your exam.

He helped you clear the table, a part of him realizing how domestic this all was and how he wanted to make you his already. But you’re like a kitten, if he gets too close so soon you’ll run away. He had to take baby steps so you could trust him.

A light buzzing came from your phone and before he could look at the caller you were standing up with phone in hand, “Jungkook!”

He rolled his eyes as you excused yourself to your room to answer and before he knew it he was going to follow. His ear pressed against the door trying to decipher the muffling but his blood was beginning to boil, thrumming in his eardrums. He could practically picture you right now. Smile on your face, giggling about something your friend said. The same friend who’s in love with you and wants to make sure you stay away from Taehyung. His jaw clenched as he backed away from the door, he couldn’t have you catch him eavesdropping. He walked past by your door, looking down at your entrance table, a silver shining object catching his eye.

He looked back to your bedroom door still hearing you talk and his feet took him toward the trinket bowl where your keys sat. Next to your main keychain was a single silver key and as he held up comparing it to your other key he noticed it was for the apartment. Without another thought he dropped the key into his pocket getting away from the table and sitting down to wait for you. It was a rush, his hands shaking at the thought circling his mind. He has only been able to be at your apartment when you’re in class.

He would steal a package of yours or watch a new piece of furniture come and he’d convince you to let him help you when you were gone. He’d take his time looking at all your photos, looking in your drawers, in your bathroom, anything. He’d smell your scented shampoos and wrap your blanket around him taking in your sweet smell. He will admit that he might’ve taken a pair or two of your underwear but it was the clean ones. He still too nervous to go through your hamper. Now that he’s got the key he could do so much more than just snoop while you’re not home.

“Sorry, Jungkook wanted to know if he was picking me up tomorrow and then I got distracted,” you said as you came out, completely unaware of what Taehyung just did. He smiled, “It’s alright but it’s getting late, maybe I should head home now.”

It happened two nights after. Taehyung had been hanging out with you when he was off work and crushed a few tablets of Melatonin into your water. He didn’t want you drugged up, but melatonin would surely knock you out. He mixed the water with a flavor packet and you hadn’t tasted the sleeping supplements.

Taehyung let out a shaky breath at the image in front of him. Your sleeping figured curled up under the sheets in a deep slumber. He pulled the sheets back immediately biting back a groan at the sight. You slept in only a t-shirt and panties, the t-short was twisted and your panties barely covered anything. You stirred at the sudden exposure, but didn’t wake up.

He took a seat at the edge of the bed. He shouldn’t do this, right? Yet even as he thought that his hand was gliding along your soft leg, goosebumps raising on your skin that he tried to soothe. “I have to,” he whispered to himself thinking back to all those times he dreamt about this. Of course you were awake in those dreams but this would have to do. Things weren’t going as quickly as he hoped and he just couldn’t take it anymore. He had to have you, that way your friends such as Jungkook won’t steal you from him. He spread your legs carefully.

His eyes fell shut as he placed gentle kisses on your thigh, your heat coming closer and closer. He took a deep inhale smelling hints of your body wash. He had stolen a small amount one day and washed his own body with it. Without your knowledge, your body was reacting to his proximity. He could practically see the smell wet patch forming on your underwear and it’s only then that he realized how close he had actually gotten. His nose brushed against the thin material of underwear.

“You won’t be mad, right?” he teased the lips of your cunt through the fabric, his thumb running over your clit, “You have to understand baby, I need this. I’ve been so patient and you don’t even realize it.”

Taehyung did not hesitate to pull your underwear down, eyes locking at the glistening pushy. You had already been wet and he wondered if you were having a wet dream, maybe about him. Lord knows he’s had too many with you as the star.

He dipped tongue inside to taste you, not being able to hold back. A moan slipped past his lips as he sunk his tongue between your pussy lips, nose bumping your clit before lapping up some of the slick. His eyes locked on your face, almost daring you to wake up but you simply withered in his hold. His hands held your thighs apart giving himself more room between your legs.

He knew you’d be sweet. Everything about you was just so sweet, even your essence and it drove him mad, clearly. He’d never done anything like this, he never put this much effort into someone but you were different. You were destined to be his and that thought alone was enough for his hardened member to brush against the mattress.

He was getting ahead of himself, his middle finger massaged your outer folds, lathering his digit with your slick, running it up your slit and poking at your clit. It was dark and he wished he could your pretty cunt but he knew he can’t turn the light on. In a stroke downward his fingers dipped into the ring of nerves at your entrance, already feeling so tight. He had wetness dribbling down his chin along with a little bit of drool and he couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to bring you so much pleasure, so he let his finger sink in. The puffs of your tight walls hugged his finger snugly and he was groaning at the feel. He looked down at your clit before bringing his lips down onto it, sucking gently as if it was a nipple all while his finger began to thrust in and out.

You began to stir in your sleep but he was too far gone. He needed to taste your release and it had him sinking his ring finger in as well. Your brows scrunched together and he watched your face contort in confusion or pleasure while his tongue flicked over your clit, moving it around with his probing.

“Ah,” you whined but he didn’t stop. Not even when your hand was flying down toward your heat wondering what was happening. Your hand landed in his hair and his eyes rolled. Yes, touch me too, he thought as he sped up his ministrations.

Your eyes widened, sleep draining from your body as you released a loud moan. You looked down at the soft locks you were holding, mouth drawing open in bewilderment, “Tae? W—what, ngh, Wait…”

He didn’t, he kept going feeling the pulse of your walls meaning you were close. You tugged on his hair to get him to stop but the pull only turned him on even more. Your head dropped back, “Please, sto—“

He pulled away, crawling up your body bringing his fingers to his mouth for a taste. He stopped when he was facing you, your noses nearly brushing and he watched your eyes water. “What are you do—“ his lips pressed against yours and you blamed it on the stimulation he’d given you that had your mouth opening to the kiss.

“Shh, don’t you trust me?” He asked peppering your face with gentle kisses, “Aren’t we friends?”

“Yes, but how’d you—Tae!” He sucked along your neck wanting to create love bites on your skin. His hands groped your sides, “Don’t you like me? Don’t you think I’m handsome?”

You thought about it for a second. Of course he was handsome but he’s your friend. He went on kissing down your exposed collarbone, “Don’t I always take care of you?”

“You left your door unlocked and I came to tell you,” he pulled at the hem of your shirt, you weren’t wearing a bra and he wanted to kiss the mounds of your breasts, “But you looked in pain, and I don’t like seeing you in pain. Doesn’t it feel good? Getting the release you need baby?”

“I—“ his hand was cupping your breasts through your shirt hiking it up letting the cold hit your exposed cunt, “It does feel good but, aren’t we friends?”

“Friends can help each other sweetie,” he was yanking your shirt up, “Aren’t I helping you right now? Look at your body, it’s so wet and your nipples are so stiff baby, I just wanted to help.”

“You know I’d never hurt you,” he said pulling away to look down at your pretty body. He’s only seen glimpses of it through your cracked door when you change or bathe but it was beautiful, and all his.”

“You don’t want my help?” He made a pout letting his hands cadres your shaking thighs, “Your body wants my help, won’t you let me help? I’ll make you feel so good.”

Your eyes locked with his and he was bucking his hips seeking friction against his jeans. You were so damn beautiful and innocent and naive and perfect for him. You didn’t want him to think you didn’t need him. You did need him but you never expected him to do this. But, he was making you feel good and you had been tense lately. Maybe he sensed it and thought he should help? He helps you with everything else anyway. “Baby?” He called out, his patience running thin wanting to move things along. You nodded and it made his heart skip a beat, “Words honey, use your words.”

“Will you be gentle?” You asked and he audibly moaned, his eyes closing, yes finally.

“Of course,” he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “See? And after, you’ll help me feel good too right? That’s what best friends do.”

You never did this with Jungkook but maybe it’s because Taehyung’s older. Maybe this is how more matured friendships do. You nodded in agreement, “I’ll make you feel good.”

“Fuck, baby you’re so perfect,” he let his head fall against your chest, rubbing his face between your breasts with his mouth drawn open, “Tomorrow I’ll take you shopping. I’ll buy you whatever you want because you’re such a good girl. Aren’t you baby? Aren’t you my good girl?”

You nodded and he smiled, he looked like a predator as he began to slide down your legs to continue what he’d done when you were asleep.

::.

ok fr thanks for sending this in. I’ve been wanting to do a yandere Tae but my minds been going blank lately

#kpop #kim taehyung #taehyung drabble #taehyung smut #yandere taehyung #bts #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #park jimin #bts smut

[fcble]

GREAT THINGS, PART I

"Call to me and I will answer you, and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known." — Jeremiah, 33:3.

In which Haksu becomes an idol in an unorthodox way. FEATURING: Kang Haksu, Lee Taein, Fable ensemble SETTING: November 2017 WORD COUNT: 10.3k WARNINGS / NOTES: Stalking, blackmail, extremely heavy-handed religious themes. Welcome to the piece that kicked my ass for over a year 🎉🎉. As in I started it a year ago and then wrote 9k words in the past two weeks. I have versions of this piece in three different perspectives. This is technically a rewrite of something I wrote earlier but now a few times longer 🎉🎉.

You’re going to do great things. You know this because it’s all anyone’s ever told you. You hear it from your father and your mother and your father’s father—until he dies—and your father’s mother—until she dies too—and your mother’s father and your mother’s mother.

You wonder when the great things will start. Time flips by, like the thin pages of the Bible that has resided on your bedside table since you were five. You’re a kid, a teenager, a young adult. You enter and exit middle school and high school. You begin to attend a mediocre university in Seoul, because it’s the only one in the city that accepted you. You brush that off, because you’re going to be great.

You think if you’re really, truly, going to be great, you might have to do it yourself.

The man’s name is Lee Taein. You meet him for the first time in a dream. You memorize the lines and planes of his face, because something about him is familiar. You conclude he must be rich or famous or both. 

In the dream, he doesn’t tell you his name. You find it yourself, on the Internet, holding the image of his face in your head as you comb through the other dream fragments: a stage, a song, a single voice. You’ve never thought about being a singer. You wonder why. 

You know how to sing. You’ve spent over a decade in choirs. You could be a singer.

That, you decide, is greater than whatever you’re doing now, which isn’t much of anything, and certainly nothing someone great would be doing.

You do your research. A lot of research. You spend your nights in bed, the darkness of your bedroom illuminated only by your laptop screen. In the mornings, you spend twice as long covering up the shadows under your eyes. 

It’s a worthwhile exchange. You learn Lee Taein is forty-nine years old. Last year, he parted ways with SM Entertainment to found his own entertainment company. You dig deeper.

He married his current wife four years ago. Her name is Jung Eunyoung. She’s forty-three, and yet has risen no higher than a secretary for a minor law firm. You learn all this from her very public Instagram profile.

His biggest vice is gambling—some of it barely legal, most of it not. You find a news article from 1999 detailing an illegal gambling ring bust. His name is mentioned once.

His new company is called Zenith Entertainment. You’re briefly disappointed to see that the last time they held auditions was February.

There are partially censored Tweets and forum threads speculating the identities of the company’s trainees. You look at the grainy pictures and read the names: Jaeseop, Kiyoung, Eunsu. 

You keep meticulous notes: index cards and the Notes app and a notebook you bought solely to organize your thoughts. Your grades slip. You haven’t attended class in three weeks.

You spend your days at a coffee shop across the street from Zenith Entertainment. You sit in a corner with a view of the building. You order the two cheapest items on the menu: a cookie and a small black coffee. You open your laptop and your notebook and pretend to work, covering the pages of your notebook with another sheet of paper whenever someone walks by.

Mostly, you watch.

You keep track of the people entering and exiting the building. Many of them work in the copywriting agency, based on their business casual outfits. You’ve stepped into the building once, only to be overwhelmed by the bright lights and the quiet hum of computers and the feeling of wrongness at being in a professional setting.

Taein dresses almost the same. If you didn’t know what he looked like, you’d miss him. The difference is in his stride and his posture: back straight, head forward, quick and even steps. You like him even more for that. He arrives in the late morning and leaves after the sun sets. You note the times: 9:43 AM, 10:02 AM, 9:56 AM, 7:19 PM, 7:48 PM, 8:10 PM.

You learn the intricacies of his schedule. There are days when he never arrives at all. You watch and wait as the hours tick by. Eight o'clock, nine o'clock, ten, eleven. No Lee Taein in sight. You wonder what he does when he doesn't work.

There are times when he'll step outside in the middle of the day, the movement catching your eye. You watch him stand on the sidewalk across the street and smoke a cigarette while he speaks on the phone. Twenty minutes later, he'll head back inside.

Sometimes you watch him leave accompanied by a younger man, somewhere around your age, who walks nearly, but not quite, behind him. You assume that must be his personal assistant or secretary or something along those lines.

Some of the people who visit the building must be trainees. You identify them from their age—young—and their dress—casual—and the times they arrive—all throughout the day. Occasionally, they stop by the coffee shop first, becoming more and more familiar to you.

There’s the tall foreigner who pronounces Americano with a distinctly Western accent. He arrives early in the morning, ordering his coffee shortly after you. He crosses the street in casual clothes and leaves in the late afternoon with the copywriter crowd, having changed into a more formal suit jacket and dress pants. You miss his departure for days until you realize he’s dressed differently.

There are the two high schoolers: one in a lurid yellow school uniform and another in a more sensible navy blue one. Sometimes their friend arrives earlier than them and sits a few tables down from you. He doesn’t wear a uniform. He sits for a half hour or so with his earbuds in while his iced coffee melts in front of him, until the high schoolers arrive. They talk loudly and boisterously, as if no one is listening.

You listen. You learn their names—Eunsu, Byeonghwi, Mingeun—and their orders—cold brew with an extra shot of espresso, iced caffè mocha, iced caffè latte. You hear them complain about teachers and Taein and trainee life.

You wonder if they could be your way in.

At night, when your roommate asks where you spend all your time, you tell him you got a job. He asks where. You fidget and your palms sweat and your heartbeat quickens. You stare past him and lie.

That weekend, you travel a few kilometers farther than usual and confess your sins.

Absolved, you think you’re ready for what comes next. 

You have to talk to Taein. You can’t be great if all you do is wait and watch. 

You peruse your notes, all of that information collected from your research and your observations, and then you devise your plan. You ask for His guidance and affirmation every day until you receive it. It comes in the form of one of your professors agreeing to overlook the sudden string of zeros in your homework assignments and tests. You were a decent enough student until a little over a month ago. If your previous work can be so easily overworked and dismissed, then maybe it’s time for your true calling. You’ve waited for this moment your entire life.

Less than a week later, you walk into the building like you belong there, not too early, not too late. You wear a winter jacket, which you shed as soon as you step inside, over a stiffly starched collared shirt and your best Sunday pants. You step into the elevator, alone, and decide to start at the top. You press the button for the fifth floor. It refuses to light up. You press it again and again to no avail. You stand in the still elevator and try the fourth floor.

Your ascent begins. You planned it all out: it's just after nine in the morning, after all the copywriters start their work and much too early for the students to be around. You're a last-minute callback from the audition, though that was months ago. It explains why Taein won't recognize you. You spoke to someone over the phone, someone named—what was her name? You can't remember. She said you should visit, so you're here—and oh, the appointment isn't in his calendar? She must have forgotten. You'll smile winningly and apologetically and Taein will be so charmed he'll agree to take you on on the spot.

You haven’t thought farther than that.

You step out of the elevator and into a dimly lit hall. The very air seems stale. There seems to be no one else around, so you proceed slowly down the hall. The fluorescent lights cast everything in a sickly yellow shade. You’re presented with two doors. The one on the left has a small glass window. You angle yourself away from it, on the off chance that someone sees you and knows you don’t belong. The one on the right is windowless, a blank slate of dark brown wood.

You debate internally for a few moments. The longer you stay there, the longer you risk meeting someone other than Taein. You try the plain door. The knob turns easily in your hand.

“Jaeseop?” A voice asks from inside. You aren’t Jaeseop, but you’ve seen that name before.

You steel yourself, silently ask for His guidance, and turn the knob all the way.

“If you’re asking about managing the social media accounts again, the answer is no,” the voice continues. It belongs to a middle-aged man, in a plain dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a ballpoint pen in the breast pocket. He looks away from his computer screen, and you find yourself face-to-face with Lee Taein.

“You must be lost. The copywriting agency is on the first two floors,” Taein says.

“I’m supposed to be here,” you say. You bow, politely, to him, then add on, “My name is Kang Haksu. I received a call a few days ago—”

Taein cuts you off, which is maybe for the better, because now that you were about to say it, your story is paper-thin and a bit silly. “You didn’t receive anything. There were no calls. You’re no one.”

Nothing is going to plan, so you do your best to improvise. “I know you’re developing an idol group. I need to be part of it.”

Taein stares at you like he can’t believe those words came out of your mouth. You believe them. You need this. Who will you be if you don’t do this?

“This is not a charity.” His voice is bone dry. “We can’t get everything we want in life. It’s better to learn that lesson early. Tell whoever sold you your information on my business and I that I don’t take charity cases.”

“I’m not a sasaeng.” His words sting. It’s a veiled accusation, but an accusation nonetheless.

“I never said you were. People like you are a dime a dozen, thinking you can waltz into the entertainment industry with no experience and no connections and immediately become a superstar. It takes much more hard work, skill, and luck than someone like you can imagine. Try your luck somewhere else.”

His words strip you to the core. Were you too naive, thinking you’d be different? You shrink back from the ferocity of it all, cowed more than you’d like to admit. You don’t take his words to heart. You can’t go anywhere else. You’re supposed to be here, under Taein’s direction. 

You don’t know how or when, but you’ll be back. You’ll find another way. You don’t have anything to say to his words, the humiliation still burning across your face, so you turn tail and flee.

You escape out into the cold, winter morning, no closer to your destiny than you were an hour ago. If anything, you’re objectively farther away. Taein knows you now, knows your name and your face and your deepest desire. You don’t let that stop you. You vow to yourself to never let him get the best of you like that again. You’ll be seeing him a lot in the future, you know, because you’ll be in his group. 

By the time you enter the cafè across the street again, you’re bouncing back. You’ve always been resilient. You’re shielded, after all, by the grace of God. The cashier starts to ring up your usual black coffee and cookie order, but you wave it away and spend a little more on a latte instead. As you sip your drink and stare broodingly at the building across the street, your second plan begins to form. If it’s a sasaeng Taein wants, then it’s a sasaeng he’ll get. 

On your way home, you stop at a convenience store and buy a new notebook. You sit on your dorm room bed and think about the days you spent watching the building, the days when Taein was nowhere to be found. He’s a bit of a workaholic, but clearly not enough to spend seven days a week at his workplaces. You, on the other hand, are unemployed enough to spend seven days a week looking into what he does. You copy the dates and times out of your old notebook and try to find a pattern.

He arrives late on Mondays, but you chalk that up to a normal dislike of Mondays. The rest of the weekdays are sporadic. There was a week where Taein missed three days of work in a row. You wonder if it's something else, if it's easily explainable. Maybe he caught a cold. It is winter, after all. You dismiss the thought. He's up to something. You know he is.

The day he misses the most often is Tuesday, from the few weeks you've watched him. In fact, he's never been at work on a Tuesday. You wonder why you never noticed that before.

It's Thursday, which means you have a few days to continue your research. You do a quick search for how much a private investigator costs, and are shocked by the results. It's fine. You can be a private investigator yourself. How hard can it be?

You plug Taein's name into one of those less-than-reputable websites that promise addresses and phone numbers. You're prompted to create an account and pay a small fee. You click through it all without hesitating. A few thousand won now means very little in the great, grand scheme of your idol destiny.

Multiple people with the same name as Taein pop up. You aren't worried, because your Taein is a public figure. That, and you know his age and his wife’s name.

Eventually, one of them fits the bill perfectly. You take a quick break to straighten your posture and ease the stiffness from your spine. You've been sitting here, engrossed in your new plan, for the better part of an hour. 

Your best guess so far is an address in Hongje-dong. You've been lucky in your observation so far. That must mean you're on the right track. You're getting closer and closer with each passing day. Tomorrow you'll close the distance between you and your destiny.

In the morning, you wake up extra early to get to Hongje-dong before Taein leaves. You doubt he takes the subway anywhere, so you rent a bike and make your way to his address. You only lose your balance twice in your first block. It’s early enough in the morning that there’s no one around to see you.

You arrive at the address much faster than you expected. The sun is only barely beginning to creep over the horizon. Then you pause, because Taein lives in a condominium. Every house on the block looks the same. The only differences are the cars parked out front of each one and the numbers on the houses. You stick out here, a young man on a bicycle with nowhere to go. You take one last look at Taein’s home and the car outside—a white Mazda—then wheel yourself around and pedal out.

You repeat the license plate to yourself in your head until you arrive at a convenience store. It’s the only place around that’s open. You buy a bag of chips and take a seat outside, keeping an eye out for Taein. You add the plate number to your notes and try to figure out exactly what kind of car he drives. You have time to spare. You expect him to head to the Zenith Entertainment building today, and he tends to arrive around nine or ten. After you consider traffic, it shouldn’t take him more than half an hour. 

You’re almost certain he drives a 2015 Mazda 3. You head back inside and buy a coffee. Then you take a few moments to think through your plan. Like if Taein drives, then where in the city does he park? Naver Map told you this convenience store was along the quickest route to Sinmunno 2-ga. What if he has a faster route? 

You’re still worrying when Taein’s car speeds by, much faster than the speed limit allows. You jump up from your seat, nearly spilling your coffee. You can’t hold it and ride your bike at the same time, so you hurry to dispose of it and pack up your notes again. You pray Taein is heading to Zenith Entertainment. It’s a little early, but maybe there’s a good reason for that. You set off in the same direction as him, though he’s disappeared from sight.

You make your way to Zenith Entertainment anyway, and by chance, see a white Mazda disappearing into a parking garage down the road from the company building. It’s too far for the garage to be connected to the building, so you lock your bike across the street and wait for him to leave. You lock and unlock the bike lock three times, fiddling with the combination. You strap the helmet to your backpack and lean against the seat and pretend to look at your phone, all the while eyeing the entrance.

Taein never leaves. You look both ways, then cross the street into the depths of the garage. It’s risky, because Taein could see you and recognize you, but you can’t take the chance that he’s gone somewhere else or is doing something else. Your imagination runs wild, thinking of all the illicit activities he might participate in. There are a number of other cars in the lot. The copywriters, you assume.

Then, in a small walkway that must lead to another entrance, you see him, standing with another man. You duck behind a car, and creep closer to the two of them. Taein must be smoking, because the smell of cigarette smoke permeates your hiding spot. 

“You wanted to do more than catch up,” Taein is saying when you can finally hear them.

“I didn’t.” The other man sounds amused.

“We could have met anywhere else. You insisted on this attempt at discretion.”

“It’s about your case,” the other man says. “They want to open it again.”

“I thought you took care of that, Cheolhwan.” Taein sounds guarded. “How much do they want?”

You don’t know what this is about, but you silently take your phone and start to record. 

“Twice what you gave me. This is above my pay grade.”

They’re quiet after that. You peek carefully through the cars to see if they’ve left. They’re still standing there, the ember at the end of Taein’s cigarette the brightest light. You duck down again without getting a better look at Cheolhwan. You wonder if he’s a loan shark or something. Breaking off and starting a company can’t be cheap.

“Alright. The police never liked me much anyway,” Taein says suddenly. You poke your head back up to watch him drop his cigarette butt to the ground and grind it under his shoe.

Cheolhwan snorts. “I can’t imagine why. Planning on begging Jinguk again?”

“I don’t beg. Jinguk-ssi and I are proper business partners.”

That gets a laugh out of Cheolhwan, the short, rough, sound echoing around the garage. 

You stop your video recording, unsure of whatever that was. You doubt it'll be of use in your quest to be an idol, but you decide to hold onto it for now. You hear footsteps begin to recede in the distance, and you wait in your hiding place until they disappear completely. 

All in all, you feel vindicated. There's something suspicious going on with Taein. You're certain you can get to the bottom of it. It's something to do with money. You can find out who Cheolhwan is. Their relationship is uncertain to you. They spoke casually to each other, but there was a degree of aloofness to the entire conversation that you don't know what to make of. Whatever it is, it was more than a simple meeting between friends.

When you’re certain they’re gone, you stand up, stretching out the crick in your neck. You assume Taein will spend the rest of the day at work, and that’s not somewhere you can watch him too closely. You return to your usual haunt across the street instead and make an attempt to catch up on your forgotten coursework. 

It’s a good attempt, but you lose all steam when the high school trainees arrive. You stare daggers at their backs, because they’re in the exact position you want to be in. You watch them order their drinks and slowly sip them, idling the afternoon by. You don't understand why they don't take their positions more seriously. There are so many other people—yourself included—who are dying to be where they are.

But you aren’t them, so you have to settle for envy.

Eventually, they leave, and you watch through the window as they enter the Zenith Entertainment building, still laughing and talking companionably. You aren't jealous. You could build your own close group of friends. You just haven't. But if you really wanted to, you could.

The sun begins to set, and you know you've outstayed your welcome. You haven't bought anything since your single coffee hours ago. The waitstaff give you sidelong looks every now and then, but they don't ask you to leave, so you pretend you don't see them.

You finally see Taein make his long-awaited exit a little earlier than usual. He's walking fast. This time, you’re prepared. As his Mazda 3 emerges from the parking garage, you’re right behind him on your bike. You think he should be heading home, but that's not set in stone, so you decide to follow him. Your intuition pays off when you see him turn not back to Hongje-dong, but somewhere else. At a traffic light, you pause to try and figure out where you are. You've only lived in Seoul for a year and a half, the length of your short-lived university career. The city blocks are still unfamiliar to you. The light turns green, and Taein speeds off. You rush to catch up with him.

You wonder where he could be going, driving so quickly he nearly bowls over a pedestrian. Leave it to him to be so careless. Your opinion of him is souring faster and faster.

He comes to a stop outside of a small, decrepit bar you’ve never heard of before, still driving too quickly as he pulls into the parking lot. You stop, across the street again, trying to figure out where you are. It doesn’t like the type of scene that caters to university students or tired corporate employees. Your mind goes to the worst places. It could be a front for all the worst types of activities—drugs and gambling and prostitution. You record the name in flickering neon lights anyway.

You’re about to leave and try to return during the day when you spot Taein leaving. He’s in the company of a young woman, and so you almost don’t recognize him. She’s wearing a long coat, but the front is open, giving you glimpses of an outfit that isn’t close to being warm enough for the weather. She clings to Taein’s arm like a lifeline, stumbling over the cracks in the sidewalk in her heels. They look like a couple. Your stomach turns. He has a wife.

With shaking hands, you raise your phone and snap another few pictures. You don’t want to see him anymore, so you don’t bother to try and follow them. You almost regret your decision to weasel your way into his life. Instead, you get back onto your bike and head home.

Saturday arrives. You don't spend your weekends at Zenith Entertainment, because you have better things to do. Or had. This morning, you wake up early again to bike back to Taein's home. You spent some time last night wondering just how far you’ll go to reach your destiny. Between that shady conversation you overheard yesterday and the young woman he met up with, you’re almost afraid of what you’ll see him do next. Sometimes you have to do difficult things before you can do great things.

More than that you’re curious about what Taein does on the weekends. Before this, your impression of him was that of a career-driven man with few feelings or even an existence outside of his job. You don’t understand why you have to work for this man, but it isn’t your place to question it.

You cycle around the blocks a few times, and it slowly comes to light in your head.

Taein is clearly the breadwinner between him and his lawfully wedded wife, so you doubt he spends his weekends shopping or cooking or cleaning. You also doubt he’s devout. As hard as you try, you can't even begin to picture him in church. You're almost certain he doesn't have kids. If he does, it's a very closely guarded secret, because it wasn't mentioned once in anything you read about him online. You wonder if maybe he had kids with his previous wife and lost custody of them. Knowing what you know about him now, you don’t find that hard to believe.

The white Mazda 3 sits outside of his condo. A light is on inside the house. You aren’t looking forward to spending a day waiting for Taein to do something. You wonder if you should have forked over the money—your parents’ money—for a private investigator. Then it would be someone else keeping watch on Taein’s house, someone more suited for the job than one young man shivering on a bike.

You think it's weird for you to sit right outside his house, so you take to patrolling the two possible entrances to the street instead. You pedal slowly, heading up and down the street. At the moment, there's nothing you fear more than having him leave without you noticing. You pause to scrutinize the map on your phone to ensure there are no other exits or back roads or possible ways out of his home other than the main street.

Then, eventually, you see his car roll by. You rush after it. He's driving slower than normal. That's when you notice it isn't him in the driver's seat, but his wife. She's the only one in the car. It makes sense, then, that the car is following the posted speed limits. You wonder what Taein is possibly doing alone at home now.

You ride back to his house, just in time to see him step outside and lock the door behind him. You stare, shocked, and have just enough sense to hide behind the condo across the street. His wife left less than five minutes ago. Where are they going, separate and alone?

Taein heads off on foot. You wait until you see him leave. The bike is a bit cumbersome. How could you have predicted that his wife would take the car somewhere and he’d leave on foot? You walk alongside your bike and try to pretend you aren't following him. You ride halfway around the block in boredom before you have to turn around so you don't lose him. You wish he could walk faster.

You check your phone. What's within walking distance of his condominium? The convenience store you sat outside of. A station? He could get anywhere from there.

The streets are too empty for you to follow closer. If he were to turn around, he'd spot you immediately. It stresses you out. You aren't a professional. You really should have hired a private investigator.

To your dismay, he turns into the subway station. You abandon your rental bike right outside, tapping through the app to return it as you continue to follow Taein. There are a few more people here, which makes it easier for you to follow him, and easier for him to lose you.

He's waiting for Line 3 towards Ogeum, the only line that runs through this station. You check the overlapping lines on the map, standing behind him so he doesn't see you. There are too many options for possible transfers: Jongno 3-ga, Euljiro 3-ga, Chumgmuro, Yaksu, Oksu, and on and on and on. You hope he doesn't travel too far. You hope he doesn't get off somewhere and order a taxi. You fill the time by once again trying to imagine what he does for fun on the weekends. For some reason, you can't picture him doing anything. He's the type of person to spend the weekend at the office. You chart the path to Zenith Entertainment from your current location. It’s two stops on the line and then a short walk. It wouldn't surprise you if he stopped there. You don't particularly want to go to Zenith Entertainment again. You're supposed to find something about him that will leave him no choice but to accept you. The woman he met yesterday was a good start. You wonder if he's heading out to see her again. 

As you're lost in your thoughts, the train arrives. You make sure you're in the same car as Taein, though it increases the chances of him noticing you. You'll have to play it off as a coincidence. You rehearse the lines in your head. You'll pretend you don't recognize him. As if you could forget what he looks like. He might not recognize you, you realize. You met him once, for a few minutes. The train picks up speed.

You pass through the first few stops with no incidents. So Taein isn’t going to work. Your interest is piqued.

You're on the train with him for almost forty-five minutes. You watch station after station pass by, the smooth tone of the recorded announcer reciting stop after stop. Taein makes no move to exit at a single one. He stares down at his phone, which lets you stare at him. He doesn't do anything interesting. All he does is scroll through his phone, tap his screen a few times, then stare. He looks like your average salaryman.

He finally gets off in Yangjae. You’re in Gangnam now. You let him leave first. When the doors are about to close, you follow after him. He isn't heading out, but through the station. You follow him to a transfer to the Shinbundang Line. You only know this because you’re spending so much time staring at the map on your phone, it’s starting to become engrained on the backs of your eyelids.

He rides the new subway line for one stop. You both exit at Gangnam Station. You follow him up back into the daylight. It's much more crowded here, locals and tourists alike. 

Taein walks faster. That probably has something to do with the crowds. You hurry after him, thankful you're no longer burdened with your bike.

He heads down a series of twists and turns, alleyways and backroads forming a route Naver Map would never recommend to you. You’re glad it’s the middle of the day. You’d hate to do this at night.

In front of you, Taein heads into a storefront you wouldn’t be caught dead in. This one doesn’t have a name on top of it. You take a picture anyway, then cross-reference your location with the map. There’s still no name. You debate whether or not you should follow him in. From the outside, it’s not the type of place you belong. But Taein could be doing any matter of incriminating activities in there, and that’s what you need to see.

You let your internal debate rage for a few seconds more. Then you cross the street and push the door open.

The room is dimly lit. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust, and when they do, you realize a few of the patrons are looking at you. You’re the youngest person in the room. You slide up to the bar and order a drink. God knows you need it.

You take a small sip and grimace immediately. It's obvious people don't come here to drink. You cast a casual glance around the room, looking for Taein. It isn't too crowded. He should be easy to spot---and vice versa, he could easily spot you. You don't see him. Most of the patrons are more engaged with the TV screens in the corner of the room and across the top of the bar. You expect to see sports or the news or something along those lines. You look up to see horses.

It clicks in your head. Horse racing. These people are day drinking and gambling. You belong anywhere else in the world but here. And where is Taein, in this entire mess?

You flag the bartender down.

"Did you see a man come in?" you ask. "Middle-aged, around my height, with an oversized watch? His name’s Lee Taein." You do a bit of your own gambling, placing a bet on Taein being a regular here.

The bartender regards you curiously. "You’re looking for Taein-ssi?”

"He’s my boss," you say. "He told me to meet him here. I was promoted recently. He wanted to celebrate."

The words fall easily from your tongue. It's more of a lie than the truth, but it could be the truth soon enough.

"Congratulations. He invited you here and didn't tell you the password?" The bartender shakes his head. He points into an ever darker recess of the room. "Down the hall. To the left of the bathroom. 8179."

You thank him and leave your drink alone. The left of the bathroom is a door with a keypad above the handle. You type in the passcode, and the lock clicks.

Taein is on the other side of the door. Your destiny is on the other side of the door. You take a deep breath and crack the door open.

You don't know what you expected. It certainly wasn't the opposite of what you experienced upstairs. For a secret room, it's well-lit and almost cozy. There aren’t many people in the room, just a few small groups of four or five people sitting around green, square tables, playing cards. Now, you spot Taein immediately, sitting behind a decently-sized pile of poker chips, the largest pile on his table. One of the people he's playing with the young woman you saw him with last night. She seems your age, maybe a few years older or younger.

You close the door silently behind you. Your skin crawls. You want to get out of here as soon as possible.

There's another bar down here, against the back of the wall. The drinks on the tables look significantly better than they do upstairs. You think about getting another one, just to make it look like you belong here and you fit in.

No one seems to notice your entrance, too engaged in their games. Your luck holds as you slide around to take a few pictures of Taein, holding your phone just in front of you, at waist level. Your fingers shake, but blurry photos are better than no photos. No one else has their phones out, not even resting on the poker tables. It feels illegal for you to do this. In fact, everything about this feels illegal. You make sure to get Taein's full face in the images, and from multiple angles. Then you slip your phone back into your pocket.

That's when you're interrupted.

"You're new here." A hand lands on your shoulder. A few people—not Taein—look up at that, before just as quickly returning to their games. You turn slowly around to see a man twice your size, a bouncer inside the club.

"I was looking for the bathroom," you say, aiming for young, fresh-faced innocence.

"How old are you, kid?"

"Nineteen," you lie. You’re twenty-one. You hate how easily that one comes out. You could have told the truth.

"Good try," the man says, keeping his firm grip on your shoulder as he guides you back to the exit. You take a glance back at Taein. Throughout the entire ordeal, he hasn't looked up once, much too concerned with the cards in his hands. Although it doesn’t look like it, you hope he loses. 

You aren't in the mood to wait in the real bar until Taein emerges, so you leave.

"Leaving already?" the bartender upstairs asks.

You ignore him. It doesn't matter. You're never coming here again.

You head home to see how blurry your pictures are. You think you might already have enough material to force him to give you a position. He's made it scarily easy for you. You didn't even need a private investigator.

You spend the rest of the week following him around anyway. You've grown used to it: the bike rental and Taein's neighborhood and Zenith Entertainment and a variety of bars and hotels across the entire city you know you’ll never step foot in again, and once, another day spent in Gangnam at a shiny skyscraper. Taein arrived at seven in the morning, earlier than he does at Zenith Entertainment, and didn't emerge until nearly eight at night. That was weird, but you had no way of getting into the building, short of breaking in. You had considered pizza delivery, kid of an employee, new employee, and a few other disguises before giving up. After the bouncer encounter, you’re staying clear of security. And that building made its security obvious, what with all the men in navy blue uniforms and earpieces, standing outside every entrance. What were the chances of Taein doing anything illegal or immoral there? Low, you figured, judging by the number of luxury cars dropping passengers off outside.

In your spare time, you try to find anything about Cheolhwan. With only a first name and a tenuous connection to Lee Taein, it’s difficult. You find two Cheolhwans in Taein’s Korea University graduation class. That was decades ago. You doubt either of those are the same man. 

Regardless, you go through with your new plan. Armed with your newly obtained material, you’re ready for your second attempt. You know Taein's schedule now. That means when he arrives at Zenith Entertainment for the day, on a bright, sunny, perfect Wednesday morning, you're standing outside his office.

"You again," Taein says, calm and impassive. "This type of perseverance is seen as obsessive behavior. The answer is no again."

You haven’t even asked your question. You watch him unlock the door to his office.

"Please leave."

You stop him from closing the door with your foot. "I have something you might want to see."

"I don't think so," Taein says. He seems to be in a bad mood. He must have had a bad night last night.

"If you don't want to see it, I think your wife, Jung Eunyoung-ssi, might have an interest in it instead," you say.

That gets his attention. "I don’t see what you’re getting at. I don’t mix business with pleasure."

"Please don't play dumb, Taein-ssi," you say, adapting to each of his evasive attempts. You didn't plan this out. You remember how poorly that went last time. Taein is unpredictable to you. You don't know him nearly well enough to begin to predict any of his responses. "I know you're seeing another woman."

Taein stares at you. "I suppose you should come inside." He sounds extremely reluctant. At the same time, you know this isn't a conversation the two of you should be having in a corridor. You tamp down the sudden flare of excitement in your chest. 

His office looks the same as you remember it. You take a seat in the plastic folding chair with the uneven legs.

"Are you a private investigator? A detective? You’ll find everything in order."

He’s defensive already. You’ve barely said anything. The investigator comment is a bit flattering. You like it.

“Everything except your marriage,” you note.

Taein shrugs. "Divorce is messy. I don't have time for that right now."

You think it's terrible that he divorced his first wife, and seems to be considering divorcing his second wife. You shove the thought aside and bring out your phone, placing it on the table between the two of you. 

“What’s her name?” you ask. “You seem to spend a lot of time with her.”

It's definitely not the strongest statement, but your proof is what's more important. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words.

"Did Eunyoung hire you?" Taein asks suddenly, ignoring your comment. He's looking at you, instead of the pictures of himself.

"No," you say. "No one hired me."

The two of you look through the album together: Taein and the young woman, arm in arm over and over and over again, in bars and restaurants and hotel lobbies and out on the street in broad daylight.

Then, Taein swipes one photo too far and you’re both presented with a photo of Taein in profile, staring intently at the two playing cards he’s holding. He picks up your phone. "How did you get this?"

He isn’t denying it any longer. You figure it's hard to deny something when the hard, concrete proof is right in front of you.

"I was there," you say.

Taein thinks about it for a second, then nods. "I didn't recognize you then. You were the one Soogeun-ssi removed."

You don't like his choice of words, but you nod anyway. You didn't think he'd noticed you. You thought you were so clever, getting away with everything. You don’t have anything else to say. Your photos speak for you.

"Who paid you?" he asks again, deathly calm. This is uncharted territory. “How much more would I have to pay you?”

“No one paid me anything. I don’t want your money. All I want is to be an idol.”

He shakes his head. “There are easier ways to do that.”

“This is the way I’m doing it. This is the way I want to do it.” This is the way you have to do it.

Taein’s expression is inscrutable. You’ve played your hand. It’s up to him to respond. You wait with bated breath, until he finally says, “I’ll give you a trial period. If you can keep up with everyone else for a month, we can reconsider your position then. If you can’t, then we part ways amicably. No one, least of all Eunyoung, needs to know what you’ve done.”

“I don’t get anything,” you say.

“You get a chance,” Taein snaps. “It’s more than you deserve. Time will tell if this bet pays off.”

You don’t appreciate being compared to a game of roulette. “I might talk to Eunyoung-ssi any time in the future.”

“You might. It won’t make a difference.” He’s oddly calm. It unnerves you.

“Why not?” You have to ask.

“Cheating isn’t illegal. Nor is playing cards in a private setting. Stalking, on the other hand, is.” You can’t do great things from a jail cell, so that keeps you from continuing to argue. 

Taein continues to speak. “For the time being, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try to ruin my marriage. The negative press would be disastrous at this time, and divorce proceedings are lengthy. As long as you want to work for me, our fates are tied.”

That’s a sentiment you can support. You nod slowly. Something like a smile takes its place on Taein's face. “You can come by on Monday. The other trainees know it's too late for me to accept anyone new. Tell them you've been confirmed to debut.”

On your first day, you take the elevator up to the third floor. It opens to a floor much different from the fourth. The left side is the same: a door with a glass window, expanding all the way down as far as you can see. The right side leads into an open office, with cubicles arranged in small groups of fours and fives. There are even a few people sitting amongst the desks. That isn't your place, so you ignore them and push open the door to the left. 

There's one person in the room, a teenage boy sitting down on the floor and stretching. He looks up at you when you enter with sharp, calculating eyes. You recognize him for your days in the cafè—Mingeun. He doesn’t seem to recognize you. He rises to his feet, moving with a grace unfit for his age, like he’s so perfectly comfortable in his body despite being in his awkward teenage years. You were nothing like him when you were his age a few years ago.

“I’m Haksu,” you say. “I’m new here.” You smile at him, something you think is befitting of an idol, but he doesn’t return it. If anything, his neutral expression grows frosty.

“Mingeun,” he says stiffly. “Taein-nim promised there wouldn’t be any more new people. Where are you from? JYP? YG?”

He sounds whiny and childish. You’re unimpressed.

“Gunsan,” you try, though you know that’s not what he means.

Mingeun scowls. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

You’re about to respond, to tell him you’re not from anywhere in the way he means, when the door flies open. You recognize both of the two new arrivals—one is the tall foreigner you’ve seen in the cafè, and the other is the young man you’ve seen following Taein—his assistant, presumably.

“Mingeun!” Taein’s assistant scolds. “Stop harassing the new guy.”

“I wasn’t harassing him,” Mingeun shoots back. “We’re going to be good friends. Right, Haksu-ssi?”

The look he gives you clearly says to play along. You don’t know if you’re going to be good friends, but you nod along anyway. Their conversation continues like you aren’t even there.

“We were just getting to what company he trained at,” Mingeun says. “Then we were going to talk about why Taein-nim thought he should join us.”

Taein’s assistant winces. “You won’t like either of those answers.”

“Another SM reject? I can handle it. I’m over it.”

Taein’s assistant ignores Mingeun and turns to you instead. He holds his hand out, Western-style, and says, “I’m Jaeseop. I’m so sorry about Mingeun. We''—he gestures to himself and the cafè foreigner—”were supposed to be the first ones to meet you. Sam—Taein-nim—held us up. Oh, and that’s Andrew.”

Your first impression of him is that he’s frazzled and all over the place. You imagine being Taein’s assistant is a difficult job. Behind him, Mingeun folds his arms, clearly upset about being excluded from the conversation. 

You grasp his hand. “Haksu.”

“I know,” Jaeseop says, suddenly looking like he’d rather be anywhere but in front of you. “Taein-nim told me about you.”

You wonder how much Taein told him. You don’t think he’d tell his assistant everything. It’s supposed to be a secret between the two of you.

“How many—” You hesitate in the middle of your sentence. Of you? Of us? How long until you're one of them? “—other trainees are there?”

“Seven,” Jaeseop says. “With you, there's eight.”

“If you're expecting monthly evaluations and competing against fifty other trainees, we're past that,” Mingeun cuts in.

“We’re the debut team. We’re all that's left,” Andrew adds.

The three of them seem so in-sync with one another, like parts of a perfect, well-oiled machine. You're the loose cog, the piece of scrap metal carelessly tossed inside, with all the potential of breaking the machine into pieces. And how does Taein's assistant fit into all of this? He seems close to Andrew and Mingeun, closer than an assistant to the CEO should be.

“When will I meet everyone else?” you ask, just to change the subject.

Jaeseop, with all the mental fortitude of an overworked assistant, takes a deep breath and begins to rattle off a list of names and short descriptions and times, most of which fly right over your head. “Intak will be here around lunchtime, after his classes end. Byeonghwi and Eunsu come by after school in the mid-afternoon. Kiyoung-hyung keeps saying he'll quit his job, but he hasn't, so he won't be here until the evening.”

Andrew picks up on your obvious cluelessness, and simplifies it down to, “Intak will be here soon. He'll be extremely bad at small talk. Don't mention it to him.”

You don't know where that came from, but you nod along anyway. These are going to be your group members. You need to get along with them. 

“Don't talk about League either,” Mingeun adds suddenly. You didn't realize he was still part of the conversation. “Unless you're also an SKT fan upset about their loss. He's really into that. You don't seem like a gamer.”

“I play a bit,” you say diplomatically, because you do. You were a teenage boy at one point, and there was no way for you to survive those years without playing League of Legends at least once.

“We all have sensitive topics, “ Jaeseop says as way of explanation. “Things we don't want to talk about and therefore try to avoid unless there's no other way around it. Mingeun, yours are?”

With a sigh, Mingeun dutifully says, “SM Entertainment. All you need to know is that I used to be a trainee there. And my mom. You don't need to know anything about her.”

Jaeseop keeps saying “we.” If you hadn’t seen him so many times with Taein, you’d take him for another trainee. You want to ask what his role really is, but you know you can't, because it'll betray you. It's harder than you expected to act like you know nothing about them. You'll have to be careful to not slip up. 

He turns his full attention to you, and asks, “Got anything?”

This is the last thing you expected from your first day as an idol. Your first item comes quickly. “How I joined Zenith Entertainment.”

You know you'll have to tell them eventually, but for now, you want to get along with everyone. Mingeun looks like he wants to ask you anyway, consequences be damned.

Andrew dismisses him before he can speak. “Byeonghwi asked for the same.”

“He asked us not to ask him why,” Jaeseop corrects. “He got in through the audition.”

Mingeun attacks like a shark smelling blood in the water. “Why’d you do it?”

You could tell them that, you suppose, but something holds you back. You want to be certain you can achieve your destiny before you start shouting it to the world. “I don't want to discuss that either,” you say instead. It's the only way out of it you can see, so you take it.

“Can we talk, hyung?” Mingeun asks, turning to Jaeseop. “Privately?”

You know you'd be the subject of their conversation. You can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing. You like the attention, but in this context, it seems bad. You want to get along with Mingeun, but it's clear he has little intention of getting along with you.

“No.” Jaeseop's response is firm, and you like him a little more for that. “You can tell me in front of Haksu-ssi.”

Mingeun falls silent, clearly unwilling to say whatever he wanted to say a few minutes ago.

“Great. Anything else?”

You do have a few other ideas in mind, but you've already chosen two major ones and you're afraid to rock the boat, so you shake your head.

On the wall behind him, you notice, for the first time, a schedule created out of a bunch of individual pieces of paper taped together. You skim over it. It’s overwhelming. There are classes on three out of the seven days, scheduled back to back to back: dance lessons and vocal lessons and rap lessons and media training and a short section on how to walk and more dance lessons. It's overwhelming. You're thankful to see that Sundays are, blessedly, left empty.

Jaeseop follows your gaze. “It’s a lot to take in at first,” he says sympathetically. “You’ll get used to it.”

You will, because you have no other choice. Your options are to adjust, or to give up and forfeit your spot and your destiny. The latter isn’t even in the realm of possibility. You’ll adjust and you’ll succeed, because you have to.

Then it's noon, and Intak arrives. You remind yourself: no comments on his social skills and nothing about League of Legends. He shows up with nothing but a laptop bag slung over one shoulder and a can of Red Bull. He looks over you with a disinterested gaze, asks, “Another one?”, chugs his Red Bull, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he and Andrew disappear out of the practice room to wherever else they go. 

Mingeun leaves shortly after the two of them. You know he's going to the cafè to wait for the two high schoolers, but you don't say that out loud. You watch him leave, and then you're left alone with Jaeseop, the two of you sitting on the floor. 

“If I ask about how or why you became a trainee, can you give me an answer?” Jaeseop asks.

“No,” you answer, because you can't.

“Do you have any relation to the Danyoung Group?” is his next question.

“No,” you say again, unsure what a chaebol who built and now owns three-quarters of the buildings in Seoul has to do with you. “I’m from Gunsan.”

He stares at you like he doesn't believe you. You meet his gaze until he looks away. 

He sighs. “I’ll take you on a tour. You haven’t seen everything yet, have you?”

The question appears much more rhetorical than literal, so you follow him out of the room. 

“The floor used to be all office space,” Jaeseop says, walking backwards as if he’s a professional tour guide. “This half hasn’t been converted yet.” He gestures to the messy sprawl of cubicles. To your surprise, that’s where Andrew and Intak are, two chairs in the same cubicle, though it looks like Intak is the only one working. 

Jaeseop avoids them and makes a beeline for the other side of the space. It’s emptier than you had thought at first glance. He introduces you to a middle-aged man, sitting at a desk, surrounded with a tidy assortment of trinkets and knick-knacks and framed photographs. It’s the polar opposite of Taein’s office.

“This is Sanghyun-nim,” he says. “He’s Taein-nim’s right-hand man. He does all the unpleasant tasks Taein-nim doesn’t want to do.”

That doesn’t seem conducive to your image of Taein. You’ve seen him do a few unpleasant tasks. You suppose those weren’t necessary for his job.

“The menial ones,” Sanghyun corrects. “You’re the new recruit. Kang Haksu-ssi.”

“That’s me,” you say, surprised by the way he recognizes you. You wonder how much Taein told everyone else, what kind of story he fed them. You doubt it was the truth. You hope you can trust him. If you can’t, it’s a little too late for that.

He seems like he could have an entire conversation with you, but Jaeseop whisks you away. “Hyekyung,” he says, of a young woman around your age, with a phone tucked on her shoulder, taking notes with her other hand. She waves in your general direction.

“Social media and marketing,” Jaeseop explains. “I wouldn’t get on her bad side. She’s really the one in charge of this entire area.”

He stops in his tracks and points across the room. You tiptoe to see what he’s trying to point out to you. A woman who looks like she should be a floor below them with the copywriters sits alone at a desk, a wide berth between her and anyone else.

 “Gyeongwon,” Jaeseop says, voice dropped to a whisper. “She doesn’t work here, but she works with Taein-nim. I wouldn’t upset her either.”

He moves on, taking quick strides across the floor to the side opposite the elevator. “The stairwell is here. Goes from the first floor up to the rooftop.”

You think he’s going to take you up the stairs—to the rooftop, maybe—but he stops. “The fourth floor is only Taein-nim’s office for now. I assume you’ve been there. The fifth floor is empty. The elevator doesn’t go up there. If you do ever go up to the rooftop, the door is always stuck.”

You try to follow along, completely overwhelmed with the amount of new names and faces and information you’re expected to now know.

Jaeseop checks the time on his phone. “Mingeun should be back by now.”

You don't have much praise for Jaeseop's tour. This time, when you open the practice room door, Mingeun is pacing. The conversation stops abruptly as you enter. Eunsu and Byeonghwi, you remember, though you can’t remember who’s who. 

Jaeseop comes to your accidental rescue. “Eunsu.” He points out the boy in the mustard-yellow uniform. “And Byeonghwi.”

Byeonghwi gives you a smile and a wave, and you’re immediately struck by how he seems genuinely happy to meet you, as if he was destined to be an idol, forever pretending and playing along with people slipping in and out of his life. Like you, you have to remind yourself. It’s a sharp contrast from the way everyone else has behaved around you. High school students are supposed to be annoying and immature, not better than you at your own fate. You try not to let it get to you.

Not long after their arrival, Intak and Andrew make their re-entrance. Andrew is in a different outfit, the type of corporate wear you’ve seen him leave in. You see your opportunity, so you take it. 

“You changed,” you observe.

“Work,” he says. “I teach English at a hagwon.”

You wonder if he’s qualified to do that, and then if the parents of the students he teaches know that their teacher is focused on being an idol and not on teaching. You should have guessed. What else could he do? 

You watch him leave. Almost as soon as the door shuts softly behind him, Intak pulls Intak to the side and speaks softly. You strain your ears to overhear, though you're drawn into Eunsu and Mingeun and Byeonghwi’s inane conversation. 

"I can't work with him," Intak is saying.

"I know," comes Jaeseop's reply. "You have to try."

"I am trying," Intak hisses. "He's the one who doesn't want to try. He thinks he can do it all by himself. He refuses to show me anything he's working on. He’s impossible."

"I know," Jaeseop says again. He says something else, but you don’t hear it, because Byeonghwi is asking you how and why you joined the company, and you have to tell him that’s not something you’re ready to talk about yet.

You watch the sun start to set out of the windows overlooking the street. They're open, but they face the wrong way and let no air in. You want to go home. Jaeseop steps out to pick up dinner. No one makes a move to leave, so you don't either.

When the sun is fully down, you meet Kiyoung. He arrives looking a bit too much like a copywriter as well. You would have mistaken him for one, had the reception to his entrance not been perfectly warm and friendly.

You learn a few more facts in rapid-fire fashion. He's the oldest of the team. He works for an environmental non-profit organization, and is refusing to quit until he finishes his current project. Before he was a Zenith Entertainment trainee, he was a trainee at another small company that went under before he could debut. He met Jaeseop when they were both in middle school and their schools double-booked the same trip location.

You exchange a few more pleasantries, and then the mood of the room shifts more towards homework than anything else, because everyone—with the exceptions of Kiyoung and Intak—are still in school. It surprises you to learn that Jaeseop is a student.

“This is my last semester,” he explains when you ask. “I don’t go to class much anymore. I’ll graduate just fine.”

You’re beginning to feel like the odd one out, so you continue your hopeless quest to catch up on all your work. You probably aren’t going to graduate. You probably aren’t even going to finish this semester.

Andrew returns later in the night, and that, for some reason, signals the end of the day. Eunsu is pressed to the glass, announcing his imminent arrival before he even steps foot in the building. Andrew’s single action upon returning to the third floor is to pick up Byeonghwi, who seems only too enthusiastic to leave. After that, it’s a free-for-all bordering on a bloodbath. You wait, because you’re new, and it’d be rude of you to be one of the first to leave.

Then it’s you and Jaeseop and Mingeun, nearly a mirror image of the morning. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Jaeseop says to you, and then in almost the same breath, “Make sure you go home, Mingeun.”

Mingeun scowls.

You nod, though you’re almost dead on your feet. You think being a private investigator might be a little easier. You aren’t sure how, but you’ll survive it. You have to. It’s the only way you can do great things.

#╰ to be written in ink is to be immortal — [ writing. ] #╰ to be written in ink is to be immortal — [ haksu. ] #ficnetfairy #fictional idol community #idolverse #idol oc #kpop oc #fake kpop group #kpop fanfic

[fandomsforpotterheads]

Foreign exchange student

Pairing: Ron Weasley x reader

Warnings: None

Requested: @hnbroyles

Your house: Slytherin

Story:

hello! could i request a rone oneshot of him crushing on the new American transfer whose in Slytherin and him being her only friend?

***

Transferring chills was never easy for anyone to go through, especially in the middle of the school year and you have to learn everything all over again.

It may be the life for one, but never for you. But since you weren’t legal to venture out on your own quite yet, you had no choice but to trail along with your family when your father’s job had decided to move you once again. When the time comes to move, it was usually to a different state. This time however, the move was taking you out of country and you would be transferring over to Hogwarts school.

Truthfully, England was never a place that you’d care to go visit or not. Yet, here you are and you were actually starting to like the new adjustments, but you still haven’t made any new friends as of right now. When you got to Hogwarts, you still remain in Slytherin house and no one seemed interested in getting to know you or just to even know your name. The first person you tried introducing yourself to was Draco Malfoy, and that didn’t go as well as you had hopped, making that the cause of losing interesting in continuing to try.

“Hello, the name’s (Y/n) (L/n).” You stuck your hand out for Draco to shake, but he just left you hanging before saying anything.

“Don’t care. Didn’t ask. Not interested.”

Thinking that you’d be friendless, those thoughts were quickly interrupted the next day after meeting Ron Weasley for the first time during potions class.

Not only were you sharing the same desk with soon to be best friend, Ron Weasley, you were partnered up with him for an assignment. The class started off just like any other class, and this was actually your second day since your transferring. Ron was easy to get along with, and was your only friend at this time, the next class you shared together was Defense Against The Dark Arts and when Snape walked in like the drama queen he is, you were surprised to say the least.

“Sir.. where’s professor Lupin?” You hear Harry ask.

“That’s none of your concern, is it?” Snape snarls before making his way up front.

“Turn to page 394.” He instructed, and you follow along with everyone else.

Out of everyone in Slytherin house, you seem to be the only one to have a problem with the potions master and the reason for that is you didn’t appreciate the way he treated Ron and his friends.

You didn’t respect him as a teacher or as the head of your house. The last straw was when he called out Hermoine for answering a question correctly and that’s when you snapped, slamming your fist on the table, causing Ron and a few others to flinch at the sudden, unexpected noise.

“Yes, miss (L/n)?” Snape says.

Knowing he was staring daggers at you made you feel brilliant and in control of the situation, not to mention the adrenaline rushing through you as you start amazingly defending for not just Ron, but for Gryffindor as well.

“Are you really taking points from Gryffindor just because the correct answer was given?” You snap.

When the professor doesn’t reply, you continue with the rest.

“If that’s the case, then why don’t you take five points from Slytherin and give that back to Gryffindor? Because at this point, it’s Slytherin who’s done wrong, Gryffindor has nothing to do with it.”

The room fell eerily silent, so silent that you could hear a pin drop on the other side of the classroom. You go on to say more of what you had to say, but Snape stops you right there.

“That’s enough, (L/n). Detention, and ten more points taken from Gryffindor.”

“I beg to differ-“ you begin to say.

“Another word, (L/n), and it’ll be fifty points from Gryffindor.”

Ron than nudges your shoulder, causing you to turn and face him.

Despite his wide eyes, he’s able to speak.

“It’s okay, (Y/n). Thanks for defending us.” He adds.

“No problem. You’re the only friend I have.” Ron couldn’t help but feel flattered.

“As flattering as that is, I’m sure it’s not long until you make more friends.”

You smile back at him, Ron is truly, very sweet person.

Ron was right.

***

@fandomsforpotterheads

Requests: Open

Note: I apologize for the long wait, but I’ve finally have been able to come around to this request, I hope you like it!!!

Thank you for this request! It was fun to write!

Characters list:

• Harry Potter

• Ron Weasley

• George Weasley

• Fred Weasley

• Oliver Wood

• Neville Longbottom

• Cedric Diggory

• Viktor Krum

• Draco Malfoy

• Tom Riddle

• Snape

#harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter #ron weasley imagines #ron weasley imagine #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #oliver wood #cedric diggory #draco malfoy #tom riddle #snape #requested #request #requests

[supercap2319]

The Prince & The Fairy Chapter 1 - Season 2

Pairing: “Sky x Male Reader

A/N: Chapter 1 of season 2 is here. I’d like to credited #nathandrakelover. For the ice scream and healing in this fic

Y/N, Bloom, and the rest of the Fairy student body were in the Stone Circle, as Rosalind taught today’s lesson at Alfea as the new headmistress. It was Y/N’s sophomore year at Alfea, and it was nothing like last term. It was like they were in the Hunger Games or something. It was no longer about embracing your power and controlling it. No, it was about getting the results. No matter how bloody or painful it was.

Bloom and Y/N stood on the opposite side of Marco, a graduated Air Fairy who led the battalion against the Burned Ones. Marco had two electricity balls in his right hand as he awaited Rosalind’s orders. The elder Fairy began her lecture on the new way to achieve power magic. “Your emotions are a tool. Nothing more, nothing less.” She looked around at all the Fairy students. “They’re a power source. You’ve been told to control them.” Marco nodded his head as Y/N and Bloom had a snowflake and fire in their right hands, respectively.

“That isn’t always the best option.”

Marco sent both attacks at Y/N and Bloom as he put out their magic like a birthday candle. It hurt like hell as the students ‘Oohed.’ Y/N shook his hand at the numbing feeling. “In combat, you’ll need to rely on instinct.” They summoned their power again, but it hurt a bit. Marco attacked again as Y/N grunted. “You’ll need to let go,” Rosalind said. The Air Fairy kept hitting them over and over again as it became more and more difficult to maintain control of their powers and not let them burst free. That’s what Rosalind wanted. For them to let go.

Bloom did better at holding back then, Y/N, as she bellowed towards Marco, eyes ablazed as she had two orange spheres of energy in both her hands. Rosalind waited to see what she would do as she stopped her stride, called off her powers, and walked over to Musa, who put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Rosalind nodded as Marco sent an even bigger ball of energy at Y/N and this time, he snapped. “STOP!” His eyes were a light blue color as the vibrations from his voice froze in rings as they flew towards Marco and sent him flying; Y/N’s voice echoing through them. An ice echo. Last time he had frozen him solid. This time, however; he had not.

“That’s when you find true power,” Rosalind said.

Y/N felt heat creep on the back of his neck. That was embarrassing. He called back his magic. He was done being Rosalind’s show pony for the day.

After the dismissal of class, Rosalind brought Y/N and Bloom into her office, formerly Ms. Dowling’s office, to discuss their evaluations amongst the students of Alfea. “The middle of the pack. Been evaluating students over the past month and that’s where you both landed.”

“It’s better than the bottom, right?” Bloom asks.

“We’re trying our best.” Y/N told her.

“Bullshit. You both transformed last year. Turned the school upside down looking for answers. You’re both powerful. This is a choice.”

“A choice not to lose control. I came here to learn control and now you’re telling me to loosen my hold over my powers?” Y/N looked at Rosalind as she rolled her eyes. “Control limits you. I thought you’d do anything to keep Sky safe, Y/N.”

“Not at the expense of hurting ourselves or other people. I will protect Sky with all my powers the right way. Not by going ballistic with no control.”

“Like today in the Stone Circle with Marco? You unleashed powerful magic without even trying. Imagine what you could do if you’d simply let go.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen what happens when you ‘let it go.’ Trust me it ain’t pretty, Y/N joked.

“I am preparing you both to fight the dangerous threats that exist here. The Burned Ones were nothing compared to what’s outside the barrier. Even this realm,” Rosalind said.

“You keep saying that and yet we haven’t seen a threat since we took down the Burned Ones,” Bloom said.

“They’ll come, eventually. And the sooner you both realize that the old regime is gone and embrace the new one. The better off we’ll all be.” Rosalind stood from her chair as she walked out of her office.

Y/N looked at Bloom and sighed.

…..

“Rosalind’s gonna get someone killed.”

Y/N, Bloom, and Aisha walked down the busy corridor filled with students. New and returning ones. “Like, is it just me or has she gotten meaner in the past few weeks?”

“I think it might be the new haircut,” Aisha jokes.

“Channeling that much magic under stress is dangerous. Most of the students aren’t ready,” Y/N says.

“I mean, if it hurts us, it’s gonna hurt them more.” Bloom held up her right hand with the ice pack for emphasis.

“Pretty sure Rosalind doesn’t care unless she gets results. How long are you guys going to hold back?” Aisha asked.

“We’re not gonna kill ourselves for her sake. As far as I’m concerned. She’s not headmistress. Miss Dowling is,” Y/N said. “I think we go on a road trip this weekend. We hit a few towns nearby. We can just see if anyone’s seen her.” They’ve tried this for months now. Ever since the new school year started, but they've found nothing.

Aisha sighs. “Y/N, Bloom… I wanna Dowling just as badly as you do, but the entire Solarian Army has been searching for months.”

“And? What if they just don’t know where to look?” Bloom countered. “Or what if she’s still in hiding somewhere?” Aisha gives them a doubtful look. “Look. All we’re saying is that this…” Y/N points around. “...this is temporary. All of it.”

“We’re gonna get this school back to the way it was.” Aisha looks at them for a moment as she moves her head to the right and smiles at Y/N. “Don’t look now, but you’ve got a lurker.” Y/N turns to see Sky standing across the room, leaning against the stonewall with his arms across his muscular chest. He’s wearing the new uniforms that Rosalind and Erendor picked out. They looked amazing.

Y/N shrugs his shoulders. “What a total creepo. I’m just gonna get a better look.” He walks off as Bloom calls out loudly. “Wear a condom!” Y/N blushes as Sky smirks down at his blushing boyfriend. “You know. I hate 99% of Rosalind’s changes, but these uniforms are… sexy.” Sky chuckles. “Well, if you play your cards right, I just might let you try it on.” He scoops Y/N up in his arms.

“Ooh. Is that before or after I strip it off you, Blue Eyes?” Sky captures Y/N’s lips with his own as he pushes him gently against the wall. They continue for a few moments before Sky pulls back. “You cut your hair.” Sky’s hair was no longer long coiffed peaks like a gold helmet. It has been cut short on the sides and back into a fade that was long at the top and a little bit curly. Sky ran a nervous hand through his hair. “D-Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

“You know, Erendor says that I should stay away from you. He says that you’ll corrupt me with your…”

“...with my homoerotic tendencies?” Y/N smiled.

“Something like that.” Sky and Y/N kiss again. They get more frisky as Sky’s hands travel up Y/N’s shirt, exposing some skin as Y/N tries to get him to stop. “Hey. Hey. Hey… we don’t want to get in trouble for public indecency now, do we?” Sky looks at him amused. His eyes are twinkling with mischief. “That would be quite the show for all of Alfea to witness. Seeing you take it so good for me. Might be worth the detentions or expulsion we’d receive.”

“Who knew you were such an exhibitionist, Blue Eyes.” Y/N smiled.

Sky laughed as kissed Y/N once more. “I’m headed to practice in a few minutes. Care to come watch me?”

“And risk making Erendor mad? I’m in,” Y/N said. “Just let me head back to the dorms and get my jacket.”

“Alright, Baby Boy. I’ll see you out there.” They separate as Sky heads to the training grounds as Y/N walks back to their dorms.

He passes by a smirking Bloom and Aisha as he walks up the marble steps and towards the Specialist’s Wing dorms. Erendor had wanted to separate the Specialists and the Fairies. Saying it made all students weaker to be around each other, but Rosalind disagreed. She liked how the living arrangements were and decided to keep them the same way, but added more students together. It was honestly the only good thing she’s done for Alfea. Besides the uniforms. He walked down the hallway towards his dorm as he and his suite mates of last term were moved into a bigger suite with new rooms.

Y/N opens the door as he sees an almost naked young man in a blue speedo standing in the middle of the room. His back is turned towards him as he’s looking down at someone. “How’s it look, Sam?”

The young Ice Fairy frowns. “Umm… Sam?” The young man who’s wearing the blue speedo turns and gives Y/N a perfect view of Sam… on his knees?! “Am I interrupting something? Should I go?”

Sam’s head poked up as he looked at Y/N. “Y/N! Umm, don’t be ridiculous. Nothing’s going on.” It then dawned on Sam how this must look to his best friend. Him on his knees in front of a speedo covered crotch. That’s not what was going on at all. The Earth Fairy blushed hard.

The young man smiles down at Sam. “Oh, don’t be shy, Sammy. You can tell him what’s going on between us. Tell him about how you were just about to give me a blowjob.”

“WHAT?!” Y/N’s eyes widened.

Sam blushed harder as he stood up. “Shut up, Grey!”

Grey chuckled as he looked at Y/N, his hand outreached. “Grey Owens.”

Y/N shook his hand with his own. “Y/N Peters.”

“Grey’s our new Specialist roommate.” Sam explained.

“Ah… I see. But that doesn’t explain what you guys were doing when I came in.”

Sam blushed. “Grey wants to go for a swim and asked me which of his speedos looked best.”

“So, what? You thought you’d get a closer look, hmm?” Y/N smirked. “If you’re going to experiment with your sexuality, Sam. Grey’s a good choice. Sexy too.”

Grey smiled. “You think I’m sexy?”

“Very, but unfortunately I’m taken, so there can never be an us.”

“Too bad. Would have been fun.” Grey and Y/N smirk at each other.

“Something tells me you didn’t come back to the suite to flirty with Grey, right?” Sam asked.

“Right. I came to get my jacket. I’m watching Sky’s practice.”

“I thought Erendor said no Fairies allowed during training,” Grey said.

“You’ll quickly learn that Y/N doesn’t take no for an answer.”

“Yeah, and you’re looking for a place to go swimming?” Y/N looks at Grey. He’s 5,11 with dark hair, brown eyes and white skin. He’s also muscular. “That’s right. The Specialist workouts are always crowded and tedious as hell.”

“I see. Well, there’s an amazing river close to the forest that my friend Aisha goes to all the time. You should check it out.”

“Thanks. I will.”

Y/N nods as he grabs his red jacket and slips it on as he heads for the door. “Welcome to the snake pit, Grey.”

“Thanks.”

….

Y/N makes it just in time to see the end of a sparring session between other Specialist students as they get off and Sky and Dane take center stage on the training mats. Erendor smirks. “The little prince and the upstarter. This should be good. First blood.”

Sky looks worriedly at his not-so-dead father, king of Eraklyon. First blood? He can’t be serious. “You worried about staining your new outfit?” Sky scoffs. “Maybe home economics is more your speed? Is that what Saul taught? Did he wear an apron?” He mocks Sky.

“Come on, man, let’s just do it. We’re not gonna hurt each other,” Dane says. He spins his sword. Sky sighed as Dane charged forward and jumped into the air as he swipes down as Sky blocks his strike. Dane tries two more times and on the last hit kicks Sky in the stomach. The young Prince stops another swipe as Erendor evaluates their match as he walks towards Riven and when he sees Y/N; he frowns. “Shouldn't you be inside with all the other Fairy boys?”

“Shouldn’t you be in a retirement home?” Y/N counters as Riven chuckles. Erendor frowns. “Odds?” He looks at Riven.

“Yeah, at first glance, it’s Sky’s to lose. Dane’s got shit to prove, though.” Dane and Sky grunt back and forth as the blonde boy really puts the pressure on the one with his sword strikes. “A lot of pressure.” Sky and Dane lock swords as Sky uses his superior strength to push Dane back. “Yeah, Sky will, uh, give him space. Let him think he’s winning, then find his opportunity to win.” Dane strikes as Sky spins and throws out his leg and kicks Dane. The younger boy charges as his attack is blocked as Sky slams the hilt of his sword into Dane’s stomach as his eyes narrow. Sky sweeps his legs and Dane falls underneath his weight. His sword falls out of his hands. “I give it three, two…” Sky swings down towards the fallen Dane as he blocks his sword with his hands on the hilt. “Nah. Thing is, this isn’t a first glance fight. Sky won’t draw blood. Dane on the other hand…” Dane push’s Sky forward and position’s his own sword against his side as Dane puts his heavy boot on it as he flicks it up, successfully drawing first blood as he cuts Sky’s uniform and his side as well.

Blood seeps out as Sky gasps and grabs his side. Riven looks at Erendor and smirks in a ‘Told ya so’ fashion. Dane chuckles at the fallen Prince as Y/N’s face is pale as he sees the gash on his boyfriend’s side. “SKY!” He runs towards the mats as he feels someone reach behind and grab his arm harshly. The young Ice Fairy turns and locks eyes with the king of Eraklyon. His eyes are dark with anger. “Don’t interfere, boy! Sky’s weakness will remain his own.”

Y/N frowned as his other hand had frigid air coming off of it as he clenched his fist as ice formed over it, successfully creating an ice fist replica of his own. He swung forward and punched Sky’s father hard enough in the face to draw blood as he fell on his ass. Riven busted out laughing and so did a few other students as Y/N leaned over the Specialist’s Headmaster. “That’s the first and last time that you’ll put your hands on me.”

The young man walks away as he gets on the mats and sinks down to Sky’s level. “Blue Eyes!” His wound is bleeding out as red dots drip on the floor as Y/N glances at Dane. The young Specialist’s smirking face is gone and replaced with fear as Y/N’s eyes glow a dangerous light blue.” “What the fuck, Dane!”

“I-I-I was just doing as we were instructed,” Dane protested.

“Yeah, well. Your Headmaster is a royal prick.” Y/N helped Sky to his feet as he walked him down the steps and towards the school as Riven walked beside them. “Want me to walk ahead and tell Terra to get everything ready?”

Y/N shook his head. “ No thanks, Riv. I got this one.”

“Of course, you do,” Riven said as Y/N and Sky walked back towards the school. He sighed. “Well, fuck me…” he chuckles.

Y/N helped Sky to their shared bedroom as he gently placed Sky on the bed. Once he’s sure he’s comfortable, he looks at his ruined outfit. “Take off your shirt, Sky,” Y/N commands.

Sky chuckles. “You first, Baby Boy.” Despite his pain, he’s still making lewd jokes about their current situation.

“Fine, I’ll take it off myself.” Y/N’s eyes glow as small snowflakes form around Sky’s shirt as they swirl around him, as his shirt is teleported to the floor below them. His golden abs and body were on full display and anyone who might walk in on them might get the wrong impression. Sam’s working his shift at the greenhouse and Grey is probably out swimming and Riven is back at the training grounds.

Sky just smiled. “Couldn't wait to get my shirt off could you.”

“This isn’t funny,” Y/N said.

“I know it’s not, but it’s the only thing keeping me from either angrily ranting or crying.”

“This is low. Even for him.” Y/N looks down at the wound. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” Sky winces as he shifts in bed. Y/N takes off his own shirt as well, much to Sky’s enjoyment and shock. “Ooh, does this mean that I get a private peep show?”

“In your dreams. I just figured it would be better if we were both shirtless to do this,” Y/N said.

“Do what?” Sky asked.

Y/N leaned down and carefully minded his legs as he straddled Sky’s hips as he kissed him softly on the lips to distract him as his hand traveled down towards Sky’s wound as he twitched his fingers and little tiny snowflakes came out. They moved towards Sky’s wound and he gasped against Y/N’s lips as it felt like someone was putting an ice pack on his gash. He shivered slightly as the snowflakes did their job and closed the opened wound until it was but nonexistent. Ice healing.

Y/N pulled back and smiled. “There. Good as new.” Sky notices the wound is gone, and the pain has stopped. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Y/N gets off of Sky as he sits next to him on the bed and snuggles close to his chest. “So… have you heard anything? About Silva’s trial in Solaria? I mean, there’s supposed to be news soon, right?”

“I dunno. And I don’t care,” Sky says without a care. This was a sensitive subject for him. The man who raised him tried to kill his dad. He pretended not to care, but Y/N knew that it was killing him inside. Before he could respond, there was a knock at the door. It was Beatrix with news about Silva.

#x male reader #male reader insert #sky fate the winx saga #sky winx #danny griffin x male reader #danny griffin #sky of eraklyon #winx club #fate the winx club #kj apa #ice magic #shy male reader

[shiningwonderland]

S Class Prologue (Repeat)

Translators: Momo (twitter: peachandrabbit) Proofreaders: Lala (twitter: i_am_gamer) Editors: Aoi (twitter: AoiTsukihime), Terry (twitter: turtlemudge)

“Idols.” Those whom we long for but can never be with.

“Idols.” Those who give dreams and energy to others.

“Idols.” To me, they are….

I am Haruka Nanami, age 15. Starting this spring, I’m aiming to become a composer who writes songs for these “idols”!

If I were to look back to my middle school years, I didn’t have anything.

I was extremely shy and I couldn’t make many friends, I was howled at by the neighborhood dogs, and scratched by stray cats….

I wanted to be useful to other people, but every time I tried to do something, it never worked out.

Through all those days when I felt bummed out, the idols on TV always cheered me up.

I want to compose songs for idols myself one day! To make that dream come true, I wrote a song.

I put all my feelings into this song and sent it with my application to Saotome Academy, a professional performing arts school where only one out of 200 applicants get in.

A few weeks later, I received a letter from Saotome Academy.

Select the phrase!

I… I got into S Class!?

I... I'm in S Class!?

It’s the first time one of my wishes has ever been granted, the first time one of my dreams has come true. This is the first step towards changing myself.

From today onward, my story begins!

Haruka Nanami: ... I didn't sleep at all. And today's the entrance ceremony….

I haven’t been able to sleep well since learning I passed the exam.

That I passed was amazing enough, but I even got into S Class... Will I be able to do this...?

With that in mind, I'd set to studying as much as possible and bought every book I could think of to read, but... I was still worried.

Since then, I’ve hardly slept.

Haruka Nanami: ... So sleepy... But I've got to do my best.

HAYATO: Ohayahooo~! How're all HAYATO's 10 million fans nationwide doing today?

Sending good vibes to everyone today from Studio 2~!

Today's theme iiiiis 'plants'! But I don't mean the corporate-bought kind! I'm talking about the cherry blossom flowers themselves!

Haruka Nanami: Ahh, HAYATO-sama, you're as lovely today as always.

My beloved HAYATO-sama is a new idol who debuted just last year.

No matter how difficult the trial, he always overcomes it with a smile. He's bright and energetic, just like the first star in the night sky.

HAYATO-sama is the reporter for this program, Ohayaho News, and no matter how busy or sleepy I am, I make sure to watch it. I always kneel before the TV at this time!

That's my daily routine.

HAYATO: ... And that concludes the report from HAYATO! Everybody, bye-bye nya~!

Haruka Nanami: He's as amazing as always today.... Thank you for the good vibes. Now I can give it my all today!

I initially left the house with plenty of time to spare. It should have taken me 30 minutes to reach the school... except I realize when I get to the train station that I left my wallet at home.

Haruka Nanami: I should still be able to make it in time....

Thinking this, I head back home to get my wallet.

Haruka Nanami: Only ten minutes to spare! If I run I'll just barely make it.

Lack of sleep makes me unsteady, but I still run full speed from my house back to the station. However, just before reaching the station—

Cat: Meoooow!

Haruka Nanami: ... A cat?

I hear a cat's plaintive meow from somewhere nearby.

Cat: Meow, mroooow!

Haruka Nanami: Where's the meowing coming from?

Upon looking around, I can't see the cat.

Cat: Meooow! Meooow!

Haruka Nanami: Aha!

The cat is up on a telephone pole.

Haruka Nanami: I see, you climbed up there and can't get down now. Don't worry, I'll catch you. C'mere....

I look up at the cat with my arms held out. After a moment's hesitation, the cat jumps down.

Haruka Nanami: Thank goodness, you don't seem to be hurt.

Cat: Mew!

The cat responds happily in my arms.

Haruka Nanami: No more climbing up high places, you hear?

After saying this, I put the cat down and start running again for the station.

... Except before reaching the station, it comes time for the train to leave.

Haruka Nanami: ... I'll run the rest of the way!

The school is two stops from here. If I run the whole way I might be able to make it, so I start running once again.

I run through the quiet residential streets, not bothering to look both ways before racing through the crosswalks along the way.

Haruka Nanami: Ah! Kyaaaaa!!

I’m going to be hit! I shut my eyes tight. However...

Haruka Nanami: It... stopped?

A fancy-looking black car has come to a halt right in front of me.

If the driver had hit the brakes a moment later, I'd have been run over. Realizing this, my knees give out, and I collapse onto the street right there.

George: Girl... do you have a death wish?

Haruka Nanami: Eh... oh... I... um....

A man in a butler suit with a dark complexion exits the car's driver side and approaches me.

George: You have guts to pick a fight with a car belonging to Jinguji Group. Now, what will you do....

Ren Jinguji: Enough, George! You're scaring her.

The rear door opens, and a long leg slides into view, followed by slim fingers gripping the door frame.

Out steps the beautiful man who'd said those kind words.

He's slim but well-built, with a figure and face like that of a sculpture of a god from Greek mythology. He has the aura of a mature adult, befitting his beauty.

His style of clothing, while informal, looks posh and has the sex appeal of an adult man.

From head to toe, he is perfect. I'm enraptured.

I had no idea a person this beautiful could exist....

George: Hmph, if that is your wish, young master Ren.

Ren Jinguji: This young lady here is just a lost lamb.

Haruka Nanami: ... What?

A... lamb?

If anything, I'd describe myself just now as a small-town girl who failed to watch where she was going as she ran full tilt across a street to avoid being late.

Oh, just now my knees gave out on me and I could be compared to a newborn lamb's trembling legs as it takes its first steps, but….

As I sit there dumbfounded, the man reaches out and takes my hand to pull me up and against his chest.

Ren Jinguji: What a beautiful little lamb.

He sweeps back his long hair as he speaks. Every little action he makes is so perfect I can't look away.

Our eyes meet. He winks at me and his face draws near....

Ren Jinguji: Your legs are shaking. Were you scared?

He scoops me into his arms with ease.

T-this is... is this what they call being carried princess style?!

Ren Jinguji: I wouldn't mind carrying you all the way to school, Lady.

Haruka Nanami: Eh—a-absolutely not! That would be too embarrassing!! Um, I can walk, so, um…!?!

Ren Jinguji: Oh? That's a shame.

He acknowledges my response and sets me down within moments.

Ren Jinguji: Judging by your blush, that was a little too thrilling for you. I'm Ren Jinguji. What's your name, little lamb?

Haruka Nanami: U-um, I'm....

Just as I'm about to answer him, the alarm on my phone goes off and brings me back to my senses.

Haruka Nanami: Ah! I-I'm so sorry, I need to be going!!

I dip my head in a quick bow of apology and race off towards the academy once more.

Haruka Nanami: If don't run faster, I'm going to be late!

After 15 minutes of running, at last, the school comes into view.

Haruka Nanami: Haaa... haaa... I'm so hot.... Where did I put my handkerchief...?

I reach into my pocket for my handkerchief, intending to wipe off the sweat dripping down my face, but....

Haruka Nanami: It's not here!

Where could I have dropped it? I was really fond of that one.... But right now, I have to keep running.

Haruka Nanami: I think... I made it in time...!

Now to head for the auditorium... hm? What's that person doing over there? Did they drop something?

A male student is on his hands and knees below a tree by the front gate, apparently searching for something.

A person should do one good deed a day. I'd better help him out....

Haruka Nanami: Are you looking for something...?

Tokiya Ichinose: Yes... I dropped my dorm room key around here.

Haruka Nanami: ...!!!

When he turns around, I'm so shocked I forget to breathe.

Haruka Nanami: Ha- HAY- Haya- HAYATO-SAMA?!!

Tokiya Ichinose: Hm...?

Haruka Nanami: Um, uh, ummm...!

Tokiya Ichinose: Will you please lend me a hand?

Haruka Nanami: Y-yes!!

He looks exactly like HAYATO-sama….

Those cool eyes. That intense, direct gaze. That silky hair.

His hard expression feels a little different from the cheerful and energetic HAYATO-sama's usual aura, but….

His eyes and lashes, his straight nose and the shape of his ears are so alike that I can’t completely believe that he's a different person.

Ack! Now's not the time to be staring! We've got to find that key....

Oh—I saw something sparkle at the base of the tree. Maybe there...?

Haruka Nanami: I knew it...!

I picked up the key and held it out to its owner.

Tokiya Ichinose: Thank you very much.

Even his voice... sounds just like HAYATO-sama's. The tone is a lot calmer than HAYATO-sama's, but it's still a very beautiful, charismatic voice.

Tokiya Ichinose: Hm? Is something the matter?

Haruka Nanami: Ah, um... would you happen to be... HAYATO-sama...?

Tokiya Ichinose: Oh, him.... HAYATO is my elder twin brother.

Haruka Nanami: Your... older brother?

I didn't know HAYATO-sama had a younger brother....

Tokiya Ichinose: Being mistaken for him is a regular problem. My name is Tokiya Ichinose. You are?

Haruka Nanami: Huh? Um... are you really someone else?

Tokiya Ichinose: Haaa.... You don't believe me? This is a school for aspiring idols, remember?

Haruka Nanami: ... Right.

Tokiya Ichinose: Why would HAYATO, who is currently working as an idol, attend a school like this?

Is there any reason for an idol who has already debuted in the entertainment industry to aim for a debut?

Haruka Nanami: ... Um... but... um....

I wind up in a panic.

Even after Ichinose-san's explanation that he is not HAYATO-sama, the words ”May I please have your autograph?!” keep ringing in my head.

Tokiya Ichinose: Let's get going before we're late.

Haruka Nanami: Um... o-okay....

Unable to throw away the thought that he really is HAYATO-sama, I follow after Ichinose-san.

Syo Kurusu: Hup! ... Damn it...! ... Why—can't—I—reach—?!

In front of the auditorium where the entrance ceremony is being held, a boy is jumping beneath a blooming cherry tree.

What a cute little boy. Judging by the fact that his height is about the same as mine, maybe he's a middle schooler?

Wow, such a stylish hairstyle—and those bobby pins are adorable! Middle schoolers these days are quite fashionable, huh?

Even those round, intense eyes are adorable, and I find myself wanting to help him out.

What should I do? Should I call out to him?

Haruka Nanami: Oh...!

I see, his hat is stuck in a tree branch and he can’t reach….

As I approach the boy, a breeze picks up and blows the hat out of the tree, right to me.

I catch the hat and plop it back onto the boy's head. There we go.

Haruka Nanami: Be careful not to lose this again, little boy.

As soon as I say that, a vein pops in the boy’s forehead. I wonder why?

Syo Kurusu: Who're you callin' a little boy?! Listen up, I'm the great Syo Kurusu! I'm the man who's gonna stand at the peak of Japan's entertainment industry as the number one genius idol! SYO KU-RU-SU-SAMA!

Tokiya Ichinose: ...

Haruka Nanami: Ohhh, really? That's amazing!

Saotome Academy is a one-year school, and applicants must be at least 15 years old.

I wonder if he's the younger brother of a new student?

Maybe he got lost, in which case his older brother or sister will certainly be worried.

I should help him find them.

Syo Kurusu: ... You're making fun of me, aren't you?

Haruka Nanami: I am not. I really think it's an amazing goal when you're still so small, Syo-kun!

Syo Kurusu: Don't call me small! ... I'm 15, seriously....

Haruka Nanami: ... You're what?

Syo Kurusu: I am 15 years old and a student in S Claaaaaaass!!

... Whaaaaat?! I thought for sure he was in middle school, or maybe even elementary school...!

Ren Jinguji: Aha, there you are, Lady. That was awful of you, disappearing on me like that.

All of a sudden I hear Jinguji-san's voice from behind me.

Ren Jinguji: So you're a student here after all. It was pretty easy to tell by your uniform, Haruka Nanami-chan.

Jinguji-san grins at me as he says that.

Haruka Nanami: How... how did you know my name?

Ren Jinguji: How indeed, I wonder?

In a smooth motion, he wraps his arm around my shoulders and his face draws near mine.

Haruka Nanami: U-um, I, uh...!

Ren Jinguji: You dropped your handkerchief, didn't you? These days not many people have their names printed on their handkerchiefs.

Subsequently, he withdraws a handkerchief from his blazer pocket and holds it out to me.

Ren Jinguji: Your shampoo smells lovely. The pure, cute fragrance suits you.

Eek!! He blew on my ear!

It's ticklish and makes me blush and I'm unsure of how to react.

Haruka Nanami: ...!!!

Tokiya Ichinose: Ren, you shouldn't pick on someone whom you've just met so much.

Syo Kurusu: T-that's right! Don't get so full of yourself just 'cause you're a little tall!

Haruka Nanami: Um... are you all acquainted?

Tokiya Ichinose: Yes, somewhat. We met at the school briefing.

Ren Jinguji: Yep, we're all in S Class. That makes us the cream of the crop.

If they're all in S Class then... we're all in the same class...!

Ichinose-san, who looks identical to HAYATO-sama. Jinguji-san, who is as attractive as a model. Syo-kun, who is small and cute.

Each one of them fits right into S Class.

Incredible... I get to spend a whole year with these people!

Aaaall right! I'm going to work harder than anyone else!

Prologue End - Choose your partner!

#repeat #tokiya ichinose #ren jinguji #syo kurusu

[moody4world]

Real rider

A/N(?): i am !!NOT!! a writer, everything i write and post is simply for fun and not to be taken seriously

equestrian y/n teaching jack the basics of horse riding for churchill downs mv

this is fluff

Jack had just dropped his brand new album called home the kids miss you. He had already recorded a music video for first class but he was mostly excited to film his music video for churchill downs with THE drake himself.

He had proposed his idea of what he’d want to include in the music video to his directors and one of those scenes included jack riding a horse. Only problem with that was that Jack had never ridden a horse in his life. But he was dead set on having this in his music video.

“Come on Neelam there’s gotta be someone you know that can teach me, I mean how hard can it be right?” “Oh you’d be surprised, I do know someone and it’s definitely not as easy as you think Jack, you want to learn how to ride a horse at a high speed in the span of a few days when you’ve never even sat on a horse before, be for real.”

Jack stared at Neelam looking very offended but he knew she had a point. A really good one at that. But the last thing he was going to do is give up. “Okay okay that’s true but if they’re such a professional i can at least learn the basics right? I just really want this to look cool as fuck.”

“Fine i’ll give her a call later and see what I can do for you.”

“This is exactly why I never fired you.”

“Jack what the hell?”

“I’m kidding i’m kidding…wait did you say she?”

“Uh…yeah is that a problem?”

“No of course not I just thought it’d be a guy”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve just never seen you hang out with a horse girl before.”

“Oh god please don’t call her that or she’ll flip her shit. She hates it when people call her that.”

“Gee thanks for the heads up.”

Later that day you were watching a random movie that was recommended to you by a friend on netflix when your phone started ringing. You picked it up to see it was Neelam and you accepted the call. “Hey Neelam what’s up?” You said while stuffing your face with popcorn. “Hi y/n! just work and more work, you know how it is.” “Yeah that’s literally all you do, why’d you call though? is everything okay?”

“Yeah yeah everything is great..but”

“Uh oh what is it?”

“It’s nothing bad but I just need you to do me this one favor for the next two weeks and I promise i’ll pay you and everything just please help me out or this boy won’t leave me alone.” Neelam rambled

“You had me at the word pay but what do I have to do for the next two weeks? thats a lot of days.”

“Can you teach Jack how to ride a horse for his music video?”

You paused your movie at the mention of Jack’s name and put your bowl of popcorn on the coffee table in front of you.

“Uhm yeah..yeah sure that’s fine I can do that. When do we start?”

“Are you available this friday?”

“Yeah that’s perfect, i’m sure you remember where the ranch is so i’ll see you then.”

“Thank you so so much y/n i’ll text you a time and more details later okay?”

“Okay byee”

You let out a heavy sigh after you both hung up. “I haven’t seen Jack in person in years…will he even recognize me? okay he probably will you haven’t changed THAT much y/n come on. Yeah that’s true…ugh i really hope he’s nicer now cause that dumpling joke was so annoying….it was kinda cute tho. Girl snap out of it. I’m literally having a whole dialogue with myself about this and I haven’t even started teaching him yet jesus christ.”

Everyone talks to themselves….I just happen to do it a lot more than usual and there’s nothing wrong with that. I knew Jack since middle school, we always had the same classes and he would sit near my lunch table and our friends usually hung out together. He never bullied me or anything like that cause i’d refuse to let a young jb look alike who raps to bully me. He just always pointed out things that made me feel slightly embarrassed. Like that one time he called my kermit and mrs. piggy socks cute which made his friends laugh about it. He apologized afterwards and said he really meant it but I mean who knows.

Friday comes around and I made sure I got to the ranch early to set everything up. I got the horses ready and even had enough time left to have a quick snack. A few minutes after I was done, I saw Neelam walking in with Jack. I walked over, meeting them half way. Neelam gives me a tight hug swaying us side to side as we always did when we see each other. “y/n!!!! hiiii” “It’s been way too long Nee” “I knooow this guy keeps me way too busy.” She says pointing towards Jack who’s standing there all awkward with his hands behind his back. He puts his hand forward and I do the same shaking his hand “Jack” “y/n” there’s an awkward silence between the three of us until Neelam clears her throat and breaks the silence “Oh..kay uh i’m gonna go and leave you two to it then. y/n good luck with this one.” “I think i’m gonna need it so thanks” “I’m standing right here…you guys realize that right?”Neelam laughs and walks towards the exit of the ranch. Once Neelam was out of earshot Jack turns to me and goes. “Long time no see y/n l/n” ugh here he goes with the last name. For some reason he could never just say my first name like everyone else. “Yeah long time no see…clearly not much has changed.” “I don’t see why that’s a bad thing dumpling.”

There it is..that old nickname. I didn’t want to have feelings for this guy but the butterflies were unavoidable at this point. He’s taller now, he has a nice beard, his hair is curlier, his voice is also deeper but his cute goofy smile is still the same and clearly the nicknames too. “I was hoping you’d forget about that name.” I said awkwardly. “I did until I saw your chubby cheeks again.” “Stop pointing it out” I said defensively but in a joking way, he laughs and puts his hands up in defense “I’ll stop…no promises.”

“Okay enough talking let’s get started or we’ll never get you to ride a horse in time for your music video.” “Okay let’s go”

Getting Jack to even get on a horse was harder than you expected.

“Pay attention to what I do so you can do it after me.” I get on the horse making sure to do it at a pace that he can follow and once i’m seated i turn to him and tell him to do what I did. Since he’s tall you would think its much easier but nope. This guy took like 5 minutes to even get on the horse, to be fair I didn’t pick our nicest horse for him either but he got on eventually. I got a good laugh out of seeing him struggle with something that was so easy to me though, no regrets so far.

After we did a little bit of trotting we took the horses for short walk before calling it a day. “So..how do you know Neelam?” he asked me out of no where “Uh…we met through a mutual friend” “Why are you lying?” “Who says i’m lying?” I was definitely lying, but how did he know that??? did Neelam tell him how we met?

No probably not cause he didn’t even know I was his instructor. “You did that awkward smile you used to do when you lie….so how did you guys really meet?”How does he even remember that?! i’m feeling those stupid butterflies again too get it together y/n. “Okay fine, I used to date her cousin a few years back and we got really close.” “Used to?” I don’t remember Jack being this nosey damn “You sure are nosey Jackman.” he shrugged.

“Not nosey just curious. I’d hate to be your ex, I know he feels stupid.” “You don’t even know what caused the break up.” “By your body language i can tell he’s the one that fucked up though.” “Yeah he did but i’ve been over it for a while now.” “Any new dudes in your life?” “No, just enjoying life as it comes these days. How about you mister rapper? new groupie every night or what?” “Who’s the nosey one now huh?” he says with a smirk. I know he did not just flip the script on me. “You asked a bunch of questions and all I asked is one and now i’m the nosey one?” “I’m just messing with you. But no i’m not like that… not anymore at least.” “Oh wow” He looked offended at my reply but can you blame me? he’s so popular now.

“What do you mean by oh wow? do I look like a manwhore to you?” I give him the look of “do you really want me to answer that?” “Okay don’t answer that” and we both started laughing. “Do you wanna do a small race to the stalls?” he looked at me as if i had grown two heads “ A race?!? are you trying to kill me? I thought we were getting along.” “You’re so dramatic it’s like 7 feet away” “Are you forgetting that you’re the real rider here and not me? I’m just an intern” “Okay prospect, no race this time. You’re such a party pooper.” “If you’re a good teacher and I get the hang of this by the end of these two weeks i’ll race you. Deal?” “Deal” We shook on it and continued our way to the stalls. Unlike getting on the horse, Jack had no issues getting off of it and he was quick to offer me his hand to help me get down.

Of course I didn’t need it but I decided to entertain him and accepted the help anyway. For whatever reason my horse, Talula felt like it was good moment to push me off and of course it had to be like one of those cliché rom coms. You know the ones where the girl falls into the guys chest and their faces are so close they’re almost breathing the same air and they look into each other’s eyes like its the prettiest thing they’ve ever seen?

Well that’s exactly what was happening between Jack and I. Until Talula decided to push me again and we both snapped out of it. His right arm was still around my waist and his other hand was still holding mine. I frantically pushed him away and stepped back brushing my clothes off from the invisible dust and possible horse fur.

“Sorry about that.” Jack apologized “No no it’s fine.” I started nervously laughing.He started walking backwards towards the exit “Tomorrow same time?” “Yeah, same time” “Alright, see you tomorrow dumpling.” He turned around now walking to the exit with his back towards me. “Stop calling me that.” “Not a chance dumpling.” He glanced at me over his shoulder with a smug grin on his face. I rolled my eyes but I couldn’t hold back my smile. After a full day of teaching Jack some of the basics and catching up a little bit I can say that he’s definitely the same goofy Jack that he was when I first met him in middle school. Maybe these next two weeks won’t be so bad after all.

#moody4world #moody fics #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow

[topguncortez]

Hi G, I read your post where you were talking about coming back to religion and relearning to put your trust in Him and I just wanted to say how proud I am of you.

I was hurt religiously, and I came back to God a few years later (about 2-ish years ago now) and I'm still learning to trust God again.

I don't think it's something you do once and then it just happens automatically every time afterward. I think you have to continuously give it to Him, continuously chose to trust him.

Like for me, that looks like when I listened to worship music and prayed on the way to my neurology appointment earlier this week, and my eye doctor appointment today because I was so anxious (I picked out some really cutey glasses and prescription sunglasses btw and I am so excited to get the call that I can come pick them up! It was a new office so I was so scared that I wouldn't like them, put everyone was so nice! Especially the woman who helped me pick out my glasses).

i’ve had such a weird relationship with God my whole life. I was raised catholic. i went to a Catholic school until I was in middle school. For a long time, my faith and trust in God was so important to me.

Then i was hit with some tragedies back to back and i just questioned everything. Why is He punishing me and doing this to innocent people who haven’t done anything to forsake him? I thought there was no more suffering because Jesus died on the cross?

It’s been a very slow and difficult process to put my trust in God again. I started to rebuild my faith when I was at bootcamp 6 years ago. I went through a very traumatic experience before I shipped out, and I thought I was over it… but I had a huge panic attack one day and realized “no. i’m not over it. I need to talk to someone” so i started talking to the chaplain and every since then I’ve been turning more and more to God and the chaplain for guidance on what I should do when things get rough.

Like I said, religious trauma and doubt isn’t something you get over in a couple of days or months or years even. It’s a slow process

#g mail

[password-door-lock]

Mystictober Day 13-- Leaves

“This is so exciting,” you gush, tearing the sticky label off of your brand-new rake. You take a moment to appreciate the sharpness and the straightness of the tines— they won't stay that way for long, if experience serves you. “Our first fall together! And we have our very own yard to rake!” It's a strange milestone, but as far as you're concerned, it's a milestone all the same.

Saeran grins at you, endeared. “I'm looking forward to it,”  he assures you. “Though it's going to be new for me.”

You shrug. “It's really not that difficult,” you announce, “At least, not from what I remember… I’m pretty rusty, too. I haven’t had to do this since high school.” You’ve been living in the middle of the city for a while, and though you’ve gotten very good at sweeping the balconies of various apartments, you haven’t had to seriously worry about leaves for quite some time now. “But I did learn to rake leaves in elementary school, so maybe it’s one of those skills that sticks with you, like riding a bike.”

“You were doing chores like this when you were that young?” Saeran asks, surveying the yard. It's not too bad— the big tree near the garden has just started to drop its first leaves, but you figure that if the two of you make a day of it, going out and collecting all the leaves every week or so, the task won't become too big.

“I mean, I was trying,” you shrug, “I wasn't very good at it, but I had a lot of fun raking them into little piles and jumping in— we could do that, too, if you want, but there might not be enough leaves yet, so we’d have to wait until the tree really gets going.” 

“That does sound like fun, darling,” Saeran admits, giving your hand a small squeeze before returning his attention to the yard. “How should we start?”

To be honest, with all of his gardening experience, you were surprised when Saeran first told you that he'd never raked leaves before, but the more you thought about it, the more sense it made— as Ray, he was allowed to tend the gardens at Magenta, but there were other believers officially assigned to the task, and the grounds there were so sprawling that Rika likely would have considered it counterintuitive to have him spend so much time away from his computer when someone with fewer responsibilities could easily have done it. Of course, even if you didn't understand, you wouldn't say anything about it to Saeran— your general philosophy is that he can tell you what he wants to when he wants to, and that can be that. It’s his decision what he wants to share with you or keep to himself about his time at Magenta, and you won’t press him for any more than that.

“Well, what I like to do is to rake one horizontal line— maybe up by the flower beds?— and then do vertical lines the length of the yard to finish it up. Then we'll have a long pile of leaves that we can just rake onto a tarp or into garbage bags to add to the compost heap— after we jump in them, of course.” You use hand gestures to aid your explanation, which would probably be a bit confusing without them.

Saeran nods; he seems to understand regardless of your erratic explanation style. “Of course, my love. Let's do that.” With the two of you working, it doesn't take too long to clear the yard of leaves at all. Perhaps your childhood memories of entire afternoons spent cleaning up leaves were slightly exaggerated in the depths of your mind—  or perhaps you've just grown a lot since then. Maybe it's the fact that you have help— regardless, you're happy that you can share this moment with Saeran. 

Once all the leaves are piled up, you take the liberty of flopping into them with a thud. “Okay, you know what, honey? That wasn’t as fun as I remember it being.” You’re laying on your back amid the leaf pile, which is really more of a leaf area— there aren’t quite enough leaves yet for a proper pile.

Saeran, who apparently has much more common sense than you do, lowers himself down into the leaves by your side at a much more controlled rate. Consequently, there is much less thudding involved. “I had fun,” he assures you, “Since I got to spend time with you.” 

“Spending time together is always nice,” you agree, staring up at the clouds. You don’t need Saeran to tell you that he’s also cloud gazing— you can just tell. “Even if we’re doing chores.” 

“Mhm,” he agrees. “No matter what we’re doing, I’m happy to be by your side.” 

You reach over to squeeze his hand, though your train of thought is quickly derailed by a passing cloud. “That one kind of looks like a mug, doesn’t it?” You point with your free hand. 

Saeran examines the cloud in question. “It’s more like an elephant,” he decides. 

“An elephant?” You can’t help but laugh. “No, there’s the cup part,” you trace the outline in the air, “And there’s the handle.” 

“That’s the trunk, my love,” Saeran argues good-naturedly, “It’s clearly an elephant.” 

“No, babe, it’s obviously a mug,” you retort, “It’s making me want hot chocolate.”

“Hm,” Saeran considers the cloud once more, “It still looks like an elephant, but I won’t complain about hot chocolate.” 

“We probably have to get up, then,” you groan, rising so that you’re propped up on your elbows. “Would you rather hold the tarp or rake the leaves onto it?” 

“I’m fine with either, darling,” he assures you, “I’ll be thinking about hot chocolate the whole time.” 

“Alright, whatever you say.” You grin. You’re probably going to be thinking about hot chocolate, too. 

#Fun fact in the original draft I referred to the tines as “the pokey bits at the end of the rake” #And tbh I almost left it like that because I didn't know they had a name #But when I was going through my normal editing process and looking up the definitions of common words that I use regularly #I thought why not look up “the pokey bits at the end of the rake” so here we are #mystic messenger #mystic messenger drabble #MM_mystictober2023

[yuriririn]

Someone Great

A/N: I haven’t written fanfiction ever since I temporarily gave up hardcore fangirling a couple of years back. I’m so out of touch, but creativity has been creeping onto me lately because law school is eating up most of my life.

Do you wanna guess who she'll end up with? :)

Prelude and part one under the cut! ❤

—

PAIRING | Park Jongseong (Jay) x reader

WC | 1.6k

GENRE | fluff, angst, slice of life

WARNINGS | explicit language

SYNOPSIS | I was told that I was going to love six boys in my life before I meet the one I'm going to love forever.

—

PRELUDE

Seven boys. I am going to love seven boys in this lifetime.

I went to a Chinese temple once when I was 10 because my mother was a hardcore fortune junkie and believed in these superstitions. She made (forced more like it) me come with her to see if I was going to grow up rich or something and while I myself didn’t believe in it, I let her do what she wanted because really at that point in life I never saw myself as anything or anyone once I reached my twenties. 

Not sure if they still have this now, but I inserted a coin in what looked like a gacha machine and pulled out a piece of paper (I vividly remember that I pulled a number 15) which supposedly contained my future and how life would be like for me in terms of health, wealth, love, and everything else. 

It said that I would meet and love exactly six men in my life before I meet the one for me. Back then I never obsessed on boys or the idea of dating in general, but as a young girl, it sparked my interest because the concept of love was something new. I kept that single piece of paper until I graduated college. 

—

ONE. THE FIRST.

Everyone remembers their first. First crush, first date, first hug, the first hand they’ve ever felt, and the first pair of lips they’ve ever touched with their own. 

His name was Park Jongseong. We called him Jay. 

Jay was the perfect first love. He was handsome, kind, lit up the room whenever he entered, valued his friendships, and was the ultimate momma’s boy. I met Jay when I was 13. He was 14, an only child of a business man, learned how to drive at 16, and was the boy of my dreams. 

He was tall, slender, had jet black hair that was often pushed back to show his sharp, manly features. He had a small scar at the top of his nose in between his eyes, and often had a cut in the middle of his lower lip. At first it made him look like a bad boy, someone your mother wouldn’t dream of you ever end up dating. But deep inside, he was kind, caring, and really embodied my love language (which is of course, acts of service). I dedicated literally every Taylor Swift song to him and thought that I was going to love him forever. 

I vaguely remember the day we met, but I do remember the first time I went out with him. I was so impressed by how much he spent on me considering we were just kids and didn’t really get much for a weekly allowance (at least that was the case for me). He was every boy a girl could ever hope their first love would be. He treated me to lunch, held my hand in the movie theater, and I even got my first kiss when he dropped me home that one day. 

“I’ve never done this before.” Because I really hadn’t yet. The closest form of intimacy I’ve ever had were hugs and hand-holding, and most of these didn’t even come from certain “significant others.”

“Just close your eyes.” He seemed experienced. 

Was I supposed to feel embarrassed for not knowing where to put my hands? When should I open my eyes? Should I say thank you afterwards?

See, these are the things I wished they taught us at school. 

And then, in the midst of all this overthinking, our lips touched. 

My first kiss was memorable because we laughed it off immediately after. He asked me how it was and I replied with, “Felt like a rough wilderness, but I guess it’ll feel better later on.” He never let that go because it was the object of literally every inside joke we have among our friends. 

Jay took care of me a lot. He made sure that I ate during lunch and that I received gifts every “monthly anniversary.” He took me to the movies, drove me around, even taking the long ways to places just so we can spend more time sightseeing. He would hold the door for me, carry my heavy bags full of high school necessities, and wipe the sweat off my forehead after cheerleading practice.

We had a lot of fun dating throughout those years, but when I turned 16, I got more and more exposed to school activities, boys in general, and learned more about myself and what I loved doing. Jay was extremely supportive in the things I did, and even if I didn’t get along that much with his mom, he continued to love me as though I was the only woman in his life. 

One fateful morning, I woke up after a busy day at school (we stayed up until midnight for a runway where I had to represent my class and model for the students who helped design clothes based on a theme) and I’m not sure if it was due to exhaustion or the gradual turn of events between Jay and I, but this was something I will always remember even up to this day. 

It was the day I realized that I was no longer in love. 

Going back to that very day, I was so angry, frustrated, and even disgusted with myself for even thinking about dumping my dear boyfriend. My dear, sweet, caring, Jay who treated me like I was glass. But the hardest part of it was accepting the fact that I no longer felt the same. I no longer felt the heat of the sun in my body whenever we touched. I no longer felt the sweetness in the laughs that we shared. I no longer felt the butterflies in my stomach when in fact it used to feel like there was an entire amazon in there. Everything just felt so empty. Was that how it was supposed to feel like? 

I forgot when and at what point I stopped loving Jay, but I knew that he did not deserve me the very moment I even started to doubt my feelings. The night before I finally admitted to myself that I no longer loved him was actually NORMAL. He picked me up from school, we laughed, shared stories, held hands, and even kissed before I hopped off the car when I reached home. Yet, I knew I couldn’t keep these feelings away from him. I couldn’t hide them in the depths of my young heart. I was just too small, and the feeling only grew more as I made every little thing that he did for me a big deal. 

“Did I do something wrong?” He choked. I felt the shock from his voice. He sounded like he felt every kind of negative emotion all at once. 

I took a deep breath and said, “I just don’t think I feel the same anymore.” 

“All of a sudden? Have you been feeling like this for a while?”

“I don’t know.” I really didn’t know. I just knew that even if I was still so young at the time, I spent three years of my young age with Jay. It was my first time ever sharing a huge chunk of my life to someone else. Back then, it felt like a mini-forever. 

It was a 23-minute phone call. 

We broke up that night, and I cried myself to sleep for the first time. 

It was my first heartbreak, and it wasn’t even for a guy who hurt me. He didn’t even try to hurt me. 

Jay lingered for a while. I understood why he held such as a special place in my life and I knew that he was someone my young heart had to experience to know what it was really like to reciprocate a feeling. He was my first leap of faith, my dip in the pool before I dove in, the sweet sensation at the tip of my tongue before I took a bite. I still so clearly remember how he held me the first time we hugged, and the scar he had on his lip when we first kissed. 

I was his first love, and he mine. 

#blog #kpop #kpop bg #kpop boys #enhypen jay #enhypen #park jongseong #jay x reader #someone great #fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff

[squill79]

The Gay Kid

None of the other kids like me. They always make fun of me for being gay. I’m sure there are other gay kids in my school, but I’m THE gay kid. The only one who’s actually out. My name is Hunter, but most of the other kids refer to me with one of their endless supply of homophobic slurs. I thought by now we’d be over this, gay people exist, who cares? Guess my school still lives in the stone age. I haven’t told any school faculty. I don’t want them telling my parents. Plus, I’ve kinda gotten used to it by now. It’s more annoying than anything else. This morning I went to get my Spanish books. There was a penis drawing in my locker again. Hilarious. Suddenly, I felt something hit the back of my neck. “Ow!”, I yelled. I turned around and saw none other than Brandon Wallace. Brandon used to be my friend, or at least I thought he was. I thought I could trust him. He’s the only person I ever told I was gay, and he spread it around quicker than I could blink.  

“What’s up, hada?” He said to me.  

“What?” 

“Hada, that’s Spanish for fairy.” 

“Oh, did you look that up because you were thinking about me?” 

“Pfft, you wish, queer.” 

Brandon’s such a jackass. He has this obnoxious clique of annoying straight guys. Well, them and his girlfriend, he’s the only one to actually have one. She’s just as much of a bimbo as he is, laughing along with his squad about his “sick burns”.  

“You’re so funny, babe!”, she always says that. 

“Funny enough to take to the winter dance?”, real smooth. 

“Oh babe, of course!”, bleh. They then made out for like... an entire uninterrupted minute. Gross.  

“Get a room!”, I yelled. They ignored me. 

After they finally stopped, Brandon turned over to me and said, “See Hunter, this is what you can’t have!” 

“Why would I want that?”, I asked. He couldn’t answer since they went back to making out. 

I eventually got to Spanish class. I sit in the front row of the class. I don’t like being in the middle of all the other kids. “Hola class.”, my teacher, Professor Stevenson said as class began. “We have a new estudiante today!”, a kid in the back got up and walked to the front of the class. “¿Cómo te llamas?” 

“M-me llama Tyler.”, he responded. He seemed nervous. He was shaking and had a bit of a stutter. Kinda felt bad for him. Must be tough being a new kid, especially in senior year. “I’m uh... eighteen y-years old and I umm... w-well I just wanna learn.”, how inspired.  

“Well that’s great, Tyler. Muy bien.”, Professor Stevenson said as Tyler went back to his desk. He proceeded to teach the class as normal. 

I bumped into someone when exiting class that day. “Oops, I-I'm sorry.”, he said.  

“It’s no big deal.”, I replied. I then realized that the person I bumped into was Tyler. 

“Oh, it’s you from S-spanish class!” 

“My name is Hunter.” 

‘Right... you’re uh...” 

“Hunter.” 

“The gay kid?" 

“That’s what they call me.” 

“I umm... I know you d-don’t know me and that I’m new but uh... w-would you want to go to the winter dance with me? I... I’m sorry I sh-shouldn’t have asked. It’s just that all the other kids kept telling me that you’re gay and I-” 

I pondered his question as he kept on rambling. He’s a little awkward and I don’t really know him all too well, but he’s kinda cute. Plus, there are barely any other queer kids in my school, so my options are kinda limited. “Sure.”, I answered him. “Why not?” 

“Oh... oh w-wow thanks. Ok umm... we can m-meet here outside the school. Sorry I can’t pick you up, I don’t have a car.” 

“No worries, I don’t either. I’ll see you this Saturday.” 

“Yeah I-I’ll see you then.”, he said as he awkwardly skuttled away. For the first time in a while, I was actually a little excited for something.  

Saturday night, my parents were helping me get ready for the dance. “You look so good, sweetie!”, my mom told me. “This girl is gonna be so happy to see you, what’s her name again?”  

“It’s... Taylor. And thank you.” 

“Are you sure we don’t need to pick her up? Does she have a ride?”, my dad asked. 

“She has a ride, but thanks dad.” 

“Alright, good luck tonight, champ. Remember to be polite to her... but also be yourself.” 

“I don’t think I can be both of those things at the same time.” Both of my parents chuckled. 

“Make sure to call if you need anything.”, my mom told me. 

“I will, thanks mom.”  

My parents left the room so I could finish preparing. I walked downstairs to go to the bathroom when I overheard a conversation between them. “I’m so glad he finally has someone to go to a dance with.”, my mom said. “He’s such an outcast, I was worried he’d never find a girlfriend.” 

“Well, it must be hard for him.”, my dad replied. “He’s not interested in sports like most of the other boys probably are. He’s into books and anime and whatever. It’s hard for a boy like him to find the right crowd.” Gee thanks you guys. It’s great knowing that me having a “girlfriend” is so important to them. 

My dad drops me off at the school. I arrived before Tyler, so I had to wait outside for a few minutes for him to show up. He eventually arrives wearing a T shirt with sweatpants. And to think I dressed up in a fancy suit just for him. I didn’t tell him this though. Like my parents said, I didn’t want to be rude. “S-sorry I’m late.”, he said as he walked up to me. 

“No worries.”, I told him. We walked inside and I instantly felt butterflies in my stomach. Not really because of Tyler, at least not him specifically. This is the first time I’ve been seen with another guy in a semi-romantic setting. “I hope nobody stares at us.”, I said to Tyler. I was already bullied for being gay, I didn’t want it to get any worse. 

“Oh... I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”, Tyler replied. Odd that he didn’t seem so nervous about that. I guess it must be easier when you’re not the only one. It is nice to be hanging with another gay kid. I’ve been getting sick and tired of being surrounded by a bunch of heteros.  

We enter the cafeteria where the dance takes place. Me and Tyler walk in holding hands. I caught a couple of people giving us awkward looks but it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. “Let’s get some snacks and then we can dance.”, I told Tyler. 

“Sure... l-let's do that.” 

We both ate for a few and drank some punch. We didn’t really talk much in that time. A few kids walked past us whispering homophobic slurs. Nothing I’d never heard before, I just ignored them. After a little while I asked Tyler if he wanted to dance. “Let me ju-just go to the bathroom first.”, he answered. I waited about a minute for him to come back. 

“You ready now?”, I asked when he got back.  

“Y-yeah, I am.”, he responded.  

We began to slow dance to a soft romantic song. It was nice, actually. He’s not a bad dancer. We swayed for a few minutes. Eventually, however, I saw Brandon and his dumb clique behind Tyler. They were staring at us and laughing menacingly. I really didn’t feel like dealing with them. “Hey Tyler, we should lea-” Before I could finish my sentence, Tyler shoved be into the punch bowl. I was soaking wet and the juice got in my eyes. I eventually opened them to find everyone in the room staring at me, with Brandon and his gang front and center, along with Tyler. “What the hell?” 

“D-did I do good?”, Tyler asked Brandon.  

“You did great man, that was hilarious.”, Brandon answered. He then turned and pointed to me. “That’s what you get for being mildly snarky to me!” 

I looked at Tyler with contempt. “Why? Why would you do that?”  

“H-hey, I just wanted to get in with the c-cool kids. It’s nothing personal.” 

“You don’t have to be nice to him, Tyler.”, Brandon said to him. “Queers like him are always emotional.”  

I stood up and punched him right in the face, much to everyone’s surprise. “Queers like me will always bring more to this world than jackasses like you. You may have your little gang following you around and worshipping you now, but once high school is over, you’ll be nobody. Your existence will be a blip in all of our lives, best case scenario. So have fun with that.” I then left the room. He didn’t say anything, I think he was still in shock from me punching him. I went outside and called my dad to ask him to pick me up.  

“Everything alright?”, he asked. I think he could tell by my voice that it didn’t turn out well. 

“Yeah... I’m fine dad.” 

“Did she break your heart, son?” 

I began to answer. “She-”, I then paused for a moment. “He broke my heart, dad.” 

“He?” 

“Yeah... I’m sorry I never told you I was jus-” 

“It’s alright son, it really is.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. It’s ok.”  

I shed a tear as I looked up to the night sky. “Thanks dad.” 

#writing #storytelling #gay #lgbtq

[littlehen]

life stuff update. writing this in the middle of the night and I’m buzzing, so if I do this braindump then I might be able to sleep :)

we are definitely adopting both the mum-cat and the kitten!!

the fosterer is provisionally calling the kitten 'Sienna', which is a beautiful name but a bit posh for a cat, I’m not sure I could live with it for ~15 years, so we've decided to call her Susie (I said we could call them Siena and Florence, I wasn’t serious but that would be so cute) After arguing with Dad for weeks about what to call the mum-cat, I was happy to go with his first suggestion for the kitten. It’s a sweet name and it suits her, let’s go

Dad suddenly announced that he doesn't mind the name Phoebe for the mum-cat, but he just doesn't ‘have any associations with it. Isn't it a rather sloaney name?' I said, most people probably associate it with Phoebe from Friends, although that's not why I like it, I just think it's pretty. He said, 'oh I've never seen that.' Possibly the only human on planet Earth who missed out on Friends. So I thought amazing, we decided on something. Then later in the day he said he wants to call her Mimi (Susie = Marriage of Figaro, Mimi = La bohème). I despair

(I wonder if he'd go for Midge? as in Midge Maisel and Susie. Probably not. He reckons Mimi would be easy for a 1yo cat to learn because she could almost say it herself)

but we need to decide by Tuesday next week, as they're all getting microchipped and mum-cat is being spayed. After she has recovered, she's free to come and live with us. I am not ready at all! where are they going to sleep and eat and what’s the litter tray situation? I've known this new cat was coming for so long and now the time is almost here! but I can never do anything before the eve of a deadline. The kitten changes everything of course. We’ll figure it out

I am applying for a new job, the application is very involved and taking a long time. I’ve already had one meeting with the boss and I think I'm in with quite a good chance. I'm not 100% sure I even want it, but I am dead certain I want to quit my current job

On the digital form I have to include all my work and education history since age 16, it calculates gaps and you have to account for them all (‘August 2003: this was the summer break between school and university’). It’s hard trying to remember the dates of everything I’ve ever done. Years ago, I read the advice that after you have a degree, you should take your school qualifications off your CV because it’s irrelevant and gauche – once you’re a professional in the workforce nobody cares that you got A* at GCSE Drama 20 years ago. So I haven’t had a list of them written down anywhere since 2007. ugh, I’ll include info from my A-levels up to my MA and they can just assume I got decent GCSEs. Even if I don’t get this job, at least it will have been quite useful for the future to have done this detailed exercise in autobiography

I'm also excited about new Ghosts and new OFMD, but I don’t have time to be on tumblr for all of it. I need to focus on this application because there’s a submission deadline, and the OFMD trailer is out soon (!!!), but I can’t be like ‘oops I missed out on a career opportunity because a tv show aired a trailer and I was busy reblogging gifs’ so I need to not get totally distracted by the dopamine tsunami that’s coming

Sleep?

#🐱💭