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#this was fun to doodle i was drawing her last night cause i thought little beads amd clips would be so cute and awesome on her
megaawkwardhuman · 11 months
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finally explaining the bunny thing!
ok I'm currently really board and stumbled upon an old sketch book and I've decided hey let's FINALLY explain why tf I draw wwdits characters as bunnies (cuz I know it's random as shit and I personally find the story behind my bunny art intresting)
so strap in cuz I'm going to write a lot for something I could probably sum up in two sentences
also small heads up a lot of drawn cartoon violence and blood ahead sooooooo :|
if you just want a short answer I draw these goofy looking bunnies cuz 1 it's fun 2 it's kinda a way to release stress and just a way to overall put myself in a better mood. at first I was drawing the same bunny getting kill/injured over and over again and now I draw characters I like as cute bunnies cuz it cheers me up and it's fun!
ok so I know that last part came out of nowhere but to explain a bit of how tf we got from point a to point b that let's go to the long answer
OK SO (wow I say ok so a lot sorry idk how else to start shit lol) THIS ALL STARTS SOMETIME AROUND EARLY 2022
well if you really get technical it all starts like late 2019 early 2020 when I first read a little comic called johnny the homicidal maniac then picks up in early 2022
in the comic there's a character called nail bunny which as the name kinda suggests is a dead bunny with a nail in it and I wanted to draw this character for whatever reason (I think I might have re read the comic? or I was just bored at the time idfk)
shortly after starting I gave up and instead doodled this:
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why yes that was a heart and yes I did scribble all over it and stabbed it with a pencil for some reason? I kinda learned not to question past me at this point ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
so later that night I couldn't for the life of me sleep and idk why but I couldn't forget this bunny I drew so I pulled out my sketch book at the time and drew this:
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(btw the little virgo simbol in the corner of some of these drawings was my signature at the time cuz it's my zodiac sign and I thought it looked neat)
and as the next day came and I talked to my friends over discord I STILL couldn't get this bunny out of my head so we gave her a name
this plush (yes despite bleeding this bunny and any bunny I draw is intended to be a plush bunny which is why I draw them with twinkies for arms and legs) bunny over here is named alexis (named after a friend who wanted the bunny to be named after her) and from that day onwards it was my goal to needlessly kill/injured her over and over in ridiculous ways
the story I created for this character to kinda justify it is that she gets killed/injured in ridiculous ways often (which is why I draw her with X eyes) cause her luck is just REALLY shitty and she just kinda accepts it all at this point ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
some of my favs from this time:
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as times goes by I draw her less and less (cuz I shit you not I ran out of ideas) to the point where I kinda stopped drawing bunny art
jump to later in 2022 and after creating a pixel art shitpost which led to me learning pixel art (but that's another story for another time) I realized wait a minute I actually really like this but idfk what to draw
then I remembered alexis existed! so while chatting with a good friend of mine I asked how should I kill her this time (yes that's exactly what I asked he knew about the bunny thing tho) he said "dying peacefully in a hospital"
so like the great friend I am I decided to be a dick and drew this
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this led to the creation of a new bunny character alexis's friend/roommate/idfk what they are anymore courtney!
courtney's little shory is she knows alexis, she has witnessed her die far too many times, and in later drawings she would gain the stare of a victorian child
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no joke she looks like she saw her parents die of the plague
after asking the same friend what else to draw alexis doing I also created a zombie bunny but I didn't really draw them much
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all of this sparked another wave of bunny art with like a few digital drawings but after a bit it went back to traditional but now with color!
some faves from this wave:
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now ngl this next point is a blur but soon I would draw something that would change the course of history bunny art where bunnies AREN'T killed *gasp*
so apparently this happened earlier this year but it feels like it happened last year ngl
at this point I wasn't drawing bunnies AS much but I would doodle them every so often and for whatever reason I decided to draw stede and ed as bunnies (it might have to do with the fact that I'm not the greatest at drawing humans but idk)
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and for a while it sat in a notebook with the only people I've shown it to being my irl friends
that is until the one year anniversary of this show when I decided to open up that pixel art website again and turn it into pixel art! (here's a link to the post tho I lowkey wanna redraw this since I don't like the way I drew the ears) and originally it was going to be the only bunny pixel art I was gonna do since it took a while and idk how I felt about the results
but then wwdits brainrot set in and I decided since I suck at drawing humans why not draw my boy guillermo as a bunny and the rest was history
ngl when my bunny art first for attention whenever I saw someone calling it cute in the back of my mind I would think hehehe this only exists cuz I would stop killing the same bunny over and over again
so now you know the history behind the art
yay but why?
weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell
at the beginning it was just a fun little thing I did and I never gave it much thought. It wasn't until recently as I started to post it onto tumblr I ACTUALLY thought about my bunny art and to say it's just a fun thing to do doesn't really describe it as well as it used to. To me it grew to be MORE than that! it's a simple thing I could draw to mess with new mediums, it's a thing a can draw over and over again and not have to worry about how it turns out since even if I post it on here at the end of the day I'm mainly drawing it for myself, if I need to let off some steam I can draw alexis getting killed in a goofy way, and if I don't wanna draw alexis I can't just draw wwdits bunny stuff since that always cheers me up since it's hard to be upset while drawing plush bunnies (and trust me I've tried)
yeah I know this whole thing is kinda silly and honestly random as shit but this bunny art has a special place in my heart despite me only really doing it for a year
hell it's gotten to the point where I have a small list of rules I stick by whenever creating something bunny related and I have fucking bases I use whenever I'm drawing pixel art of a character as a bunny for the first time
why yes I am taking pastel bunnies far too seriously
I think the funniest thing is (and I think I've stated this before in the tags of a bunny drawing but I'll say it again) bunnies aren't even my favorite animal
that honor goes to frogs (bunnies are in the top five tho)
so this whole thing makes LESS sense if you take that into consideration but idk it's just fun
and at the end of the day that's really all I had to say but I wanted an excuse to talk about the history of this bunny bs lol
thanks for coming to another one of my TED talks and remember I swear I'm not crazy
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strooples · 1 year
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Stuff to do/shows/art
Sooo my SO and I started to watch “Love Is Hard For Otaku” together, and it seems nice so far! It’s pretty calming and chill, so a bit of a refreshing escapism from the daily grind. The series is kinda short, so we’ll probably get through it fast!
We’re also getting through part 4 of JoJo, though at a slower pace than the previous parts bc I wanted a slight break from watching some of the past nights to recuperate from working. I have so many thoughts though!! After this part, I probably won’t continue watching JoJo because gore scares me + I hear it gets intense T~T. But I might just write out some character thoughts! Since analyzing the plot holes and stuff like that for such a gigantic series is probably gonna be chaotic. RN my favorite character of that part has to be Okuyasu bc after the initial conflict, he comes to be such a goofy and wholesome person xD. He gives me Larry Butz vibes for some reason (my SO played the first Phoenix Wright game with me & Larry Butz was my favorite for the goofiness!!). So yeah, let’s be suckers for the wholesomeness boi!
On my own, I got through the first/only season of EMARA (it’s on YouTube + made by a small animation company so it’s likely that they probably won’t be releasing any more episodes ;~;). The frames were a bit rough in some areas (like sometimes not being quite fluid) but the animation still did + excel at tons of cool stuff!! It was definitely fun to watch!! I did mention that my sister recommended me EMARA along with “All Saints Street” — both accessible on YouTube & relatively short series. I haven’t yet checked out “All Saints Street” despite it being open on my tabs!! But I need to make myself. Short 2D-animated YouTube series are laid-back and can be absolutely fun to watch :D.
Speaking of my sister, I’ve got to draw Gulpin for her! Maybe a little stack of Gulpin. She requested that, and years ago, it took me awhile to get around to drawing Furret (her last Pokemon doodle request!!).
So yeah, I’ll definitely begin on something?? Just for fun, for the heck of it, or for my sister. Cause I have lots and lots of ideas!! Mostly oriented to fanart bc it’s what’s been giving me inspiration lately, though I want to set up a still life so badly to practice realism/observational skills. I do truly miss the feel of practicing realism! I just wish there were more hours in a day to finish stuff or draw more!! >~<
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arfufo · 3 years
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hummaannn jessssseeeeeeeeee helllo sweety!!!!!!!!!!!!!!🐕🐕🐕💨💨💨💨💨
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jeonsjiddies · 3 years
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Headlights | pjm (m)
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Summary- Jimin is a fuckboi, rumor has it his tongue can make you see stars. Everyone assumes he’s this way because he just wants to have fun. No one dares look deeper, no one sees the haunted look in his eyes, the emptiness and pain that reside in their deep brown depths. Until you.
🎶 Headlights by The Classic Crime - “Please don’t face the headlights of oncoming cars alone.” 🎶
Word Count- 14.7k 🥴
Pairing- Jimin x reader
Genre- smut
Warnings- oral (female recieving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, slightly rough sex, nipple piercing? is that warning?, some depression-like symptoms/thoughts, a little self destructive behavior? Kind of.
a/n: Part of the Tatted Bangtan Series! This is the longest fic I have ever written and it is my baby. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please let me know what you think!  💕 
Walking up to the frat house was intimidating, and you slowed your stride enough for Hana to reach back and yank you with her into the party. You could feel the bass of the music rattling your bones and couldn’t hear Hana as she shouted over the music to you. 
“I can’t believe you made me do this!” you hissed, twisting your body around just in time to narrowly miss a drunk football player bulldozing his way through the crowd. 
“What?” she shouted back. 
You simply rolled your eyes and shook your head, gripping her hand tightly and following her through the overcrowded living room to the barely quieter kitchen. You took the drink she handed you and nursed it slowly, since you liked a good buzz but still wanted a clear head. 
You felt his gaze before you saw him; you could feel the shivers along the back of your neck. 
You turned to seek out the cause, methodically searching the crowd. Your eyes met the most beautiful pair of brown ones you’d ever seen, the strobe lights from above causing them to almost glow brighter-  but that was the only light in his gaze. His eyes looked… sad. Empty. 
It seemed like everything else turned blurry, and you could only focus on him in perfect clarity, every feature defined and prominent; every move he made, your eyes followed. Everything else faded away, and you only saw him. Him and his beautiful eyes, full of longing and something you couldn’t quite place.
You couldn’t help but furrow your brow in concern. Your face showed your every emotion like an open book, and you opened your mouth to ask Hana who was staring at you before she squealed, gripping your arm.
“Park Jimin is totally checking you out!” she giggled, tugging on your sleeve excitedly.
“Park Jimin?” you questioned rhetorically.
“He’s famous on campus. He’s hot, rich, and a total freak in the sheets. Rumor has it his tongue can make you see stars. Every girl on campus is dying for a night with him.” she chattered.
“Oh geez.” You rolled your eyes.
“Seriously. The saying is: once you Jimin, you can’t Jim-out. He’s so good in bed, he’s had to get like three restraining orders against girls who can’t let go. They say once you sleep with him no one else will do.” she continued, waving her hands in the air dramatically.
“I’ll take your word for it.” you giggled, glancing over towards Jimin once again.
He was absolutely gorgeous, with perfectly styled light brown hair, soft, plump looking lips, a jawline that could cut someone. His white t-shirt showed off tattoos that danced down his arms, covering the delicate ivory skin beneath. His thighs alone deserved their own wing in an art gallery, beautifully encased in skin tight ripped jeans. You caught yourself staring, clearing your throat and averting your gaze, but something kept drawing you back to him.
He was surrounded by girls, all leaning forward to give him the best view of their cleavage, all doing their best to seduce him, but he looked bored. Lonely. Lost. He sighed and his eyes trailed back to you. He watched you for a moment, noting how you flushed and turned away looking flustered. A smirk played on his lips and he shoved himself off the wall, making his way over to you.
“Shit! He’s coming over here!” Hana whisper-shouted.
You braced yourself, waiting for him to call you out for staring, or yell at you. Your body seemed to be vibrating with nerves because you could feel him getting closer, like your body had a radar that searched him out. Warm breath ghosted over the back of your neck, right under your ear. You shivered.
“Hello, there princess.” he purred.
You spun around, startled, and came face-to-face with Jimin.
He was even more gorgeous up close. He smelled of alcohol and something minty. You couldn’t help basking in the lovely scent that filled your senses for a moment, before leveling your gaze to his. His body wasn’t even two inches from yours. If you leaned up on your toes, you’d be kissing him. You took a step behind you, your back hitting the island in the kitchen.
“Hello,” you greeted in return, willing the heat in your cheeks to look like it was from the humidity in the room and not Jimin’s proximity to you.
“I haven’t seen you around before, are you a Freshman?” he inquired, sending his charming smile your way and making your knees want to buckle.
“No, I just normally don’t come to parties,” you explained, tilting your head towards Hana. “Hana made me.”
“Why not?” he wondered aloud.
“Just… not my scene.” you shrugged. 
Jimin watched your face, amusement apparent on his features. He seemed to be contemplating something. Apparently coming to his decision, his smile came back to grace his gorgeous face, but it didn’t reach his eyes, a detail you couldn’t miss even if you’d wanted to.
“Sounds like you need to have a little fun,” he smirked, stepping closer to you, his fingertips trailing along your hips and his lips grazing the shell of your ear as he whispered his next sentence, “I could help you with that. My room is upstairs.”
“I… I, uh… no… no thank you,” you sputtered, placing your hand on his (deliciously firm) chest and gently urging him backwards to put space between your erratically beating heart and his warm, enticing body.
“What?” Jimin asked, genuinely confused.
“I’m not that kind of girl.” you said softly, trying to cushion the blow to his ego.
“You really don’t want to fuck me?” he asked, bewildered.
“Um… no thank you.” You coughed awkwardly.
Jimin stared at you for a moment, reading you. His eyes searched yours, looking for something. You didn’t know what, or if he found it, but when he looked away, he shrugged.
“Your loss.” he turned to the sound of someone calling his name and left you standing there, heart pounding out of your chest and legs weak.
You watched him walk away, plastering on that signature flirty smile that fooled everyone around him. You watched his animated dancing, life of the party, putting on a show. You watched his eyes search the crowd, like his soul was longing to find something, but you didn’t know what.
                                                      -♡-
A few weeks had gone by since your encounter with Jimin, and somehow he was everywhere. You saw him on your way to class, laughing with his friends by the fountain. You saw him at the coffee shop, exiting the building as you were about to enter. You saw him in the crowded hallways of your university, heard his infectious laugh bubbling from his chest and dancing through the air. 
Even when Jimin wasn’t in your direct line of vision, even when you couldn’t hear the way his melodic voice carried through the air, he was everywhere. Every night since meeting him, you dreamt of sad, empty brown eyes attached to the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen. Every other thought that flitted through your mind was about him. What was Jimin up to? Does he look happier today? Was it just that night? Where was he now?
Sitting in the lecture hall next to Hana, you couldn’t pay attention to what the professor was attempting to teach you, a heavy sigh falling from your lips as you doodled a familiar pair of plusher ones. Hana nudged your shoulder.
“What’s up with you lately? You’re like, lost in space or something.” she accused.
“Sorry, just got a lot on my mind,” you sighed, playing with the edges of your notebook distractedly.
“Wanna talk about it?” she wondered.
“How much do you know about Park Jimin?” you asked almost instantly, causing Hana to jump a bit.
“Oh honey…” she sighed, shaking her head, “Don’t go there. Park Jimin is a good fuck if you’re looking to let loose, but I wouldn’t get too invested. Fucking is about all he’s good at. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself.” 
“Do you really think he’s not good for anything but that? I mean, he’s human.” you defended.
“That’s not what I meant, I just know how you are. Don't go crushing on him, he’ll break your heart Y/N. Park Jimin doesn’t do emotions. He does meaningless sex.” she explained.
“I guess…” you trailed off, avoiding her gaze.
“Seriously. Don’t go looking for trouble.” she warned.
“I won’t.” you promised.
“Good. Now, there’s a party this weekend. Are you coming?” she grinned.
A classmate in front of you coughed obnoxiously sending you a glare. You shot them an apologetic smile but lowered your voice. Hana didn’t lower her volume at all though.
“Maybe. I don’t know.” you shrugged.
“Come onnnn. Live a little!” she encouraged.
“If you two ladies have something to share with the class, I’d be more than happy to give you the podium. Otherwise, I’d appreciate it if you’d wait until after class to discuss whatever is so important,” the professor hummed, shooting a glare in your direction.
Immediately silencing yourself, you looked down at your notebook, where the drawing of Jimin’s plush lips stared at you. You stared back, recalling the last time you’d seen him, and how your heart had pounded in your chest violently enough that you thought it was going to come out. 
You decided you needed to see him again, which is how you found yourself completely out of place once again at another frat party. Drunk and stoned college kids stumbled around, grinded on each other, made out in corners, and caused all kinds of trouble all around you as you tried to be inconspicuous in your search for Jimin.
“Do you want a drink?”  you asked Hana and she nodded, so you ventured into the kitchen to retrieve something for the two of you. 
Once you returned, you couldn’t find her anywhere. She had a tendency of wandering off with the first hot guy she set her sights on, but you decided to look for her anyway. You wove between bodies, checking around corners and searching all the obvious places. When you came up empty handed you ventured out the back door, only to notice none other than Park Jimin sitting on the porch swing alone, smoking.
Previous task abandoned, you walked up to him and sat beside him; his eyes lazily trailed up and down your figure as he assessed you, his plump lips turning up into a smirk.
“Didn’t think I’d see you again. Change your mind about my offer?” he smiled seductively.
“No.” you shrugged, offering him the extra cup in your hand, which he took while watching you carefully.
“Seriously? Am I not your type or something? You think I’m ugly?” he wondered, feigning distress.
“That’s not it at all!” you gasped out with a little too much conviction.
“So you find me attractive?” he verified, scooting closer.
“Well, yes,” you admitted, cheeks blazing while you avoided his intense gaze.
“So you do want to fuck me.” He grinned.
“No,” you shook your head.
“Why?” he questioned, letting his fingertips dance along the edge of your shorts.
“Like I said. I’m not that kind of girl. I think sex should be meaningful,” you shrugged, though your body betrayed you with the goosebumps rising at his touch.
“Ah, so you’re one of those hopeless romantics,” he laughed.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” you giggled. “I’m not waiting for a knight in shining armour. I just want it to mean something.”
Jimin focused his gaze on your face, watching you carefully as you fiddled with a stray thread on your blouse. He knew your body reacted to him, he could see the way you shivered, feel the goosebumps on your skin. He didn’t understand why you weren’t jumping at the opportunity to fall into bed with him like everyone else. You were an enigma to him. 
You finally met his gaze, curiosity getting the better of you. You had to know if his eyes still held the same look as before, or if it was a one-time thing. You could still see the loneliness, masked by his overconfident demeanor. 
“What’s your major?” you asked, changing the subject out of the blue.
“What? Oh, um… dance, actually.” he said, averting his gaze.
“How long have you been dancing?” you wondered.
“Since I was little. Why are you asking this?” he narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“Just wondering. I don’t know anything about you,” you easily replied.
“What’s yours?” he countered.
“Creative writing.” 
“That’s cool.” he sent you a tentative smile.
“Thanks. So is dancing. I can’t dance to save my life,” you giggled.
“I’m sure you’re not that bad,” he argued, a smile playing on his lips.
“Oh, you haven’t seen bad,” you laughed.
After taking a moment to wonder why you were even outside talking to him and what you could possibly want from him, he pushed his suspicion aside..Jimin rolled his eyes with a smile and stood up, extending his hand out to you. You sent him a questioning look and he just shook his hand until you grabbed it, and he pulled you to your feet. He reached down into his pocket and pulled out his phone, playing a song you hadn’t heard before, but enjoyed nonetheless. It was slow and simple, but still pretty upbeat.
“We’ll try something simple so I can see where you’re at, ok?” Jimin grinned at you, spacing his feet apart and watching your face.
“You’re going to make me dance?” you gasped.
“I’m going to teach you some easy moves. Everyone should know at least one dance move,” he laughed.
“If you watch me fall on my face I can never look you in the eye again,” you grumbled.
“Oh hush. Okay, start with your feet shoulder width apart for balance.” he instructed.
You mimicked his stature, placing your feet shoulder width apart and following his movements that he did slowly so you could catch on. You could tell he was graceful and knew how to move his body, even when he was slowing down and exaggerating his movements so you could keep up. Jimin’s movements were fluid and calculated, each new step had precision but flowed into the next seamlessly. He was made to dance, you decided. And somehow, you didn’t fall under his instruction. He was patient and understanding when you’d mess up, showing you again and praising you when you got it right.
 He seemed to be having fun, his laughter filled you with giddiness and his smile seemed genuine, his eyes scrunched up into little crescent moons and his beautiful pearly teeth on display, his hands wrapped around his stomach as he leaned over in another fit of laughter. You giggled along with him, albeit at your own expense, but you loved seeing this side of Jimin, he seemed… happy, carefree. This was the way Jimin was meant to be.
When you messed up again, Jimin laughed, coming over to you and grabbing your hands, showing you how to move your body to the music by leading you with his own. Your back was pressed against his firm chest as he guided you, his hips flush against yours, causing a blush to creep up your neck. Jimin must have noticed the position he’d put you in, but it didn’t stop him. He only pressed closer, whispering in your ear.
“You’re doing so good for me, babygirl,” he purred, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. 
You shivered, attempting to turn and pull out of his hold to scold him, but you were interrupted by a loud male voice coming from inside the house.
“Yo Park where the hell have you been? We need help in beer pong! Oh-” a tall man you recognized as Hoseok froze at the sight.
Jimin cleared his throat and stepped away from you. Hana peered around Hoseok from behind him, curious to what was going on. Her eyes widened when she saw you, and she gave you a look of disappointment, knowing you hadn’t listened to her warning. You looked away, avoiding her gaze as Jimin breezed past you to follow Hoseok inside. Hana watched you for a moment before following them inside, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
                                                         -♡-
It had been a few days since your dancing lesson with Jimin, and seeing him in such a comfortable, happy state hadn’t really done much to take him off your mind, especially not after seeing his eyes glaze over and the mask slip right back on as soon as Hoseok called his name. How he’d breezed past you like you didn’t exist after what felt like a special moment shared between the two of you.
Maybe Hana was right… maybe all he wanted was sex. Your anxiety was telling you he was playing with your emotions, but you knew better. You saw something in Jimin, something no one else seemed to notice. The small amount of time you’d spent with him when he had let his guard down had given you the opportunity to see what potential he had. 
 Jimin didn’t have to be tough and closed off. He could be fun and open and sweet. He could be thoughtful and patient and encouraging. He could be silly and smart and dedicated. He was talented and hard working. You’d spent maybe an hour alone with Jimin at the party that night, and in that small frame of time, you’d seen a glimpse of the real him shine through that facade he put on for everyone else. 
You wanted to see it again.
You took’d taken a trip into the city to do some sight seeing and clear your restless mind, having been driven crazy going in circles. It had taken longer than you’d anticipated, so you’d opted to take a taxi home with the sun having gone down a while ago and the stars making their appearance. You watched the cityscape fly by, lost in your own little world. The closer you got to campus, the more you paid attention, knowing the bridge that overlooked the beautiful skyline would be coming soon. 
You watched the water below ripple gently, small waves dancing across the surface of the river underneath the bridge. It was beautiful, reflections of the city lights shining and shimmering in the water. You glanced up at the other end of the bridge and saw a figure standing there, alone. It kind of looked like…
“Sir, stop the car. Pull over please!” you begged the driver.
He shot you a curious look but pulled to the side of the road. You handed him your fare and dashed away from the car towards the figure. Once you realized he wasn’t going to jump or do anything stupid, you slowed your stride, watching him as you quietly made your way over to him. Jimin was lost in thought and didn’t notice you approaching him. He watched the waves longingly, as if he wished he were floating away in them, part of the nothingness. Like he wanted to disappear into the water and drift away into the sea.
The look in his eyes as he gazed out into the unknown was haunted, and it tore at your heart to see him look so empty. They say the eyes are the window to the soul, and if that’s true, Jimin’s soul seemed broken. You wanted to know why. He had it all. He had money, good looks, friends, girls, what could possibly be missing? Why did he look so dejected?
You gently placed your hand on his shoulder and he jumped slightly upon realizing he wasn’t alone, turning to face you. His gaze met yours in silence, he watched your face for a moment, then his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Y/N?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing. I was riding by and saw you, I wanted to make sure you were okay. What are you doing up here all alone?” you wondered.
Jimin turned to face you fully now, looking down at you with a hard expression.
“Why do you care?” he asked, bunching his fists at his side. “What do you want from me Y/N? Why are you being so nice to me?”
“I don’t want anything from you, Jimin. I just want to make sure you’re okay. I want to be your friend,” you explained softly, reaching out to touch his arm, which he yanked away.
“You want to be my friend?” he laughed bitterly. “Why? So I can buy you stuff? You want my money? Here,” he took out his wallet, holding out several bills for you to take.
You were shocked, stepping back a little, but looking up to meet Jimin’s gaze. He looked resigned, angry. You looked at his outstretched hand, holding the money out to you and sighed. You reached for his hand, and he thought you’d take the bills, but you only eased his hand back down to his side.
“I don’t want your money,” you told him, trying to keep your voice from sounding as offended as you felt. “I just like spending time with you.”
“Why? What is your angle here? Just take what you want and go, like everyone else does. Everyone uses each other, I don’t know what you’re trying to get out of me, but just take it and go. Stop acting like you care about me,” he hissed.
You watched him for a moment, chest heaving as he took deep breaths, looking angry and closed off and… scared. He looked scared. He said everyone uses each other, did he really not have anyone in his life who genuinely just wanted him to be happy? 
“I do care about you, Jimin. I don’t want anything from you but friendship,” you said softly.
“Right,” he laughed, “like I believe that. No one just wants to be friends. They want something. Sex. Money. Status. Then they leave, everyone leaves eventually so why bother getting attached and pretending to care?”
“That sounds really lonely, Jimin,” you trailed off quietly.
Jimin’s expression was one of shock. He was expecting some sort of reaction out of you, anger, defiance, maybe admitting you were just after his money. He expected you to try to trick him, to yell at him, to tell him he was an asshole and you never wanted to see him again. Jimin was not expecting you to see straight through him, to see how lonely he was, how much he craved connection.
You terrified Jimin. He’d been drawn to you from when he first laid eyes on you, admittedly it was a sexual attraction at first. When you’d refused him, though, he was intrigued. He’d watched you around campus, how you never sought out to be the center of attention, how you didn’t go looking for drama or clout. Then you showed up on that porch swing at the party, looking into his eyes like you really saw him.
Jimin hadn’t felt so at ease so quickly with anyone in his life like he did with you. He felt like he could be himself, like he could let his guard down. He had fun, really enjoyed himself for the first time in what felt like forever with you. He wasn’t putting on a show. He wasn’t giving the people what he thought they wanted to see from him. He was just spending time with a beautiful girl who made him feel like he was enough.
And that was terrifying.
Jimin couldn’t afford to get attached again. He’d had his heart ripped out and stomped on so many times he’d honestly thought he didn’t have one anymore. Until he watched the way your eyes lit up when you giggled at one of his silly dance moves. Until he felt the giddiness rising in his chest when you smiled especially for him. Jimin almost couldn’t remember what it felt like to feel so carefree, and he missed it so much. He longed to be free and let go.
You made him feel like he could, and that scared Jimin shitless. He’d spent so long building up this wall to protect himself, so long wearing this mask of indifference to shield his weary and battered heart from another letdown. Another person pretending to care. Another “friend” using him to get something. Another betrayal. But you… you felt so genuine. You were light and happy and kind and you made him feel like he could breathe again. He barely knew you, and already you’d wormed your way into his heart enough to make him feel like things could be different. It scared Jimin just how badly he craved that, the connection, to feel something again.
“I… I guess,” he finally admitted, his shoulders slumping from the confession. 
He looked like he was deflating, the tension falling off his body once he finally let it out that yes, he was so lonely. He watched your reaction, embarrassed that you’d seen this side of him. He didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of anyone, didn’t want to give them the chance to use him again. But you just smiled sympathetically.  You didn’t push or pry.
Instead, you pivoted. “Are you hungry? I kind of want some ramen. Come with me to the store?” you offered.
Jimin eyed you warily, but nodded, falling in step beside you as you walked along the bridge, the only sounds you could hear were the soft rippling of the waves below and the sounds of the cars rushing past. Jimin was quiet beside you, looking like he was lost in thought. He wasn’t paying attention to where he was stepping, and tripped over a loose brick on the sidewalk.
You saw the headlights of the oncoming car nearing closer as Jimin tumbled into the road, your heart beating out of your chest in bone-chilling fear. You jumped into the street and grabbed Jimin’s hand. You jumped back and yanked him onto the sidewalk mere fractions of a second before the car zoomed past where your bodies had just been, horn blaring obnoxiously. Jimin’s body crashed into yours, sending you off balance and splaying against the sidewalk.
You groaned at his weight being flung on top of you when you crashed into the hard cement sidewalk. Jimin propped himself up on his arms, body still flush against yours as he searched your face, eyes wide.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? What the hell were you thinking?! You could’ve been killed!” he scolded, eyes roaming over your face and arms for any injuries. 
“So could you! I couldn’t just sit back and watch you get run over!” you defended. 
“So you risked your life for someone you barely know?!” he hissed, with no real bite to his words. 
Worry and guilt were swimming in his gaze as it met yours. You softened, reaching up to caress his hair gently in an attempt to soothe him and get him to focus on you and your next words.
“Hey, we’re both fine. Everything’s okay,” you smiled.
“I’ve never met anyone like you before,” he said more to himself than you, “What even are you?”
“Still hungry,” you giggled playfully, trying to ease the tension surrounding the two of you.
Jimin rolled his eyes but finally, a smile graced his pretty lips. You both seemed to notice your positions at the same time, your cheeks lighting up and the tips of his ears turning red. He scrambled off of you, holding out a hand to pull you to your feet. You both avoided eye contact and he let out an awkward cough, scratching the back of his neck.
“Let’s go get ramen then,” he smiled shyly, motioning for you to go ahead of him.
You walked together in silence, Jimin being much more careful about where he was stepping while you made your way to the convenience store at the edge of the university. Entering and nodding to the cashier on duty, you both made your way over to the ramen. You reached out to grab a bowl, and a gasp left Jimin’s lips.
“You’re bleeding!” he grabbed your arm, examining the scrape on your elbow.
“Oh, whoops,” you shrugged. 
Jimin went to the cashier and requested the first aid kit, then guided you to a seat and gently took your arm, cleaning the cut with an antiseptic wipe. You hissed at the burn, and he apologized, leaning down to blow air on the wound. You watched in awe at the way his lips looked, plump and soft and delicious. You shivered as the cool air hit your skin, soothing the burn from the antiseptic wipe. Jimin smiled up at you.
“Better?” he asked.
Not trusting your voice, you simply nodded. He took the bandage and placed it over your wound, smoothing it out with a gentle brush of his fingers. 
“There. All better. Let's eat!” he chirped, pushing off his knees to stand.
You both picked out some ramen and drinks, using the water dispenser to add hot water to the dry noodles. Jimin reached for his wallet to pay for you both reflexively. You didn’t put yours on the counter and he looked at you in confusion.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Uhhh… waiting my turn?”
“What do you mean? It’s our turn.”
“It’s your turn. I’ll pay for mine when you’re done,” you shrugged.
Jimin looked shocked and confused, and the cashier looked impatient. You nodded towards the counter and Jimin paid, watching you curiously as you completed your transaction with a smile on your face and thanked the cashier. Jimin held the door for you and you both walked to a nearby park, sitting on the bench to eat. 
You ate and talked and joked and laughed. You both just enjoyed being in each other’s presence, able to let loose and not feel judged. You watched Jimin’s eyes begin to shine for the first time since you’d met him, and your heart swelled with joy. You’d finished eating long ago but neither of you wanted to leave, so you stood up.
“I’ve been practicing, you know.” You wiggled your eyebrows.
“Practicing?” he echoed.
“Dancing. I’ve been practicing what you showed me. Not to toot my own horn, but I’ve gotten pretty decent,” you grinned playfully.
“Show me what you’ve got,” Jimin smirked, leaning back into the bench with his hands folded behind his head, his shirt riding up and displaying his mouth-watering abs, along with the small trail of hair that dipped down underneath his waistband.
You stood with your feet shoulder width apart, just like Jimin had taught you, and started shaking your hips like you’d seen him do that night at the party, giving your best impression of his dance routine for the first minute or two. Then, you grinned at him as he opened his mouth to praise you, before you started doing the chicken dance.
Jimin’s laughter rang through the air and he started dancing with you, both of you making fools of yourselves, your only audience each other and the moon that shone brightly in the sky, illuminating Jimin’s face, highlighting his ethereal beauty. The two of you danced and laughed for a while, before falling onto the bench in a fit of giggles. 
Finally deciding it was time to go, Jimin insisted on walking you home, saying it wasn’t safe for you to be alone that late at night. You agreed, not because you weren’t capable of keeping yourself safe, but simply to stay with him for a little longer. You tossed your food containers in the trash as you left the park. His hand brushed against yours a few times as you walked, talking animatedly about anything and everything, and you figured it was just an accident soyou didn’t think too much of it.
Disappointment washed over you as you walked up to your dorm building and you sighed, scuffing the ground with your foot in an attempt to stall. Jimin made no move to leave either, both of you waiting in silence for the other to say something. Suddenly, you felt warmth surround your frame as Jimin wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a tight embrace.
“Thank you for tonight. This is the most fun I’ve had in a really long time,” he whispered into your ear, almost like a secret he didn’t want anyone else to hear, though you were alone.
“Me too, Jimin. Thank you for coming with me, and walking me home,” you smiled, returning his hug and placing your head on his shoulder.
You weren’t sure how long hugs between stranger-friends were supposed to last, but you weren’t going to pull away first, not when you felt so warm, so safe, so comfortable. Your heart was racing but your whole body went pliant at his touch, any tension you’d been holding melting away as you melted into him.
Jimin pulled away first, leaving a chaste kiss to your cheek before turning around and walking off, shouting “goodnight Y/N!” over his shoulder as he left. You missed the way the tips of his ears turned pink, and he missed how your whole face turned red. You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as you crawled into bed that night, your dreams filled with bright brown eyes shining in the moonlight, and a little bit of hope.
                                                        -♡-
After the night on the bridge, you and Jimin began hanging out. He’d wait for you outside the lecture hall and walk you home some days. Others, you’d show up with his favorite coffee and snack in hand before his (regrettably chosen) 8am class. Jimin was different around you, lighter. 
Because he was Jimin, people noticed. Eyes trailed after the two of you everywhere you went, whether you were together or not. Rumors spread, saying that you were using him to gain recognition, saying that he’d knocked you up and been forced to date you, saying that you’d blackmailed him or something. Neither of you paid attention to the prying eyes that seemed to dissect your every move, you were too caught up in each other.
You made Jimin feel like a better person, and Jimin made you feel safe and giddy. But there was no denying the massive crush you’d formed on the poor guy. You did your best to hide it, trying not to make him uncomfortable. You’d told him all you wanted was friendship, you weren’t about to make a liar out of yourself and get rejected, losing your new friend over something so silly as your unyielding yearning for him.
You really tried not to let your eyes linger on him for too long when he walked unaware beside you, humming the newest song he was practicing for dance class. You tried not to let your touches last longer than socially acceptable for friends, despite the way your entire body seemed to light up with electricity every time his skin met yours. You tried not to stare longingly at his lips as he told you a story about his childhood or a class he’d taken the day before.
You tried not to fall in love with him.
You tried not to fall in love with the way his eyes formed crescent moons when he smiled, his real smile. The one he used in your presence, not the one he plastered on for the rest of the world to see. You tried not to fall in love with the sound of his voice calling your name, or the way he’d mindlessly sing quietly to himself while doing mundane tasks. You tried not to fall in love with the way he’d already be looking at you when you glanced up to check on him, with the way he’d shoot you a goofy face.
You tried not to fall in love with the way he held you close, the way every hug was just a little too long, the way he’d hold open doors for you or fix your collar, or the way he seemed to be able to make you forget about the rest of the world. You tried not to fall in love with how strong he was, both physically and emotionally, how he’d let you in and trusted you. 
But Jimin was a force of nature, somehow terrifying and comforting at the same time. He showed your heart no mercy, consistently proving himself to you over and over and making you fall harder and harder. How were you not supposed to fall head over heels for Jimin? A few weeks into your friendship and you were ready to throw caution to the wind and marry the man. Or maybe you were a little dramatic, but still. You felt so deeply for him you almost couldn’t stomach it.
Jimin seemed to bounce as he walked in front of you, using his ridiculous amount of coordination to walk backwards so he could face you as he spoke. You giggled at his behavior, keeping an eye out to make sure he didn’t run into anything or anyone. He wove around the crowd gracefully, looking back every so often, but you still watched out for him. Just in case. 
“So then the professor woke the kid up by slamming a book on his desk, I kinda felt bad for him, to be honest. But it was really funny. The kid wasn’t too bothered by it, he laughed with everyone else, and apologized for falling asleep. I don’t blame him though. I nearly lost it when he went into the section on Pavlov,” Jimin recounted, rolling his eyes.
“Poor guy!” you laughed.
“I know, so embarrassing.” he cringed.
“Yo, Jimin!” came from somewhere in the crowd, and Jimin’s easygoing expression immediately morphed into a hardened one. 
You turned to see Hoseok and Hana jogging to catch up with the two of you. Ever since they’d started dating, you’d seen Hana less and less. You didn’t mind much, as your time was mostly filled with Jimin. Hana’s hair had gotten longer and she’d dyed it a light shade of pink. It suited her.
“Hey Hana, I like your new hair,” you smiled.
“Thanks, girl! I haven’t seen you in forever!” she grabbed you, pulling you into a tight hug which you returned, shooting an uncomfortable look towards Jimin.
His attention was on Hoseok though. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and you didn’t like it when Jimin’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. It looked unnatural, wrong. Happiness belonged on Jimin. Hoseok was sweet, he was funny and lively and courteous, you had nothing against him. But you wished he would leave so Jimin would go back to normal. Unguarded. 
“Jimin, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for a couple days man. I really need your help. Are you busy? The girls can grab coffee or something and we can swing by the shop?” Hoseok begged. 
“Ooh that sounds so fun! We haven’t hung out in forever! Please, Y/N?” Hana begged, pulling on your shirt sleeve.
You shot a look over to Jimin, gauging his feelings on the situation, but you couldn’t read him. His face was stoic and you couldn’t see his eyes. He shrugged, following Hoseok across the street.  Hana pulled on your arm, directing you to a nearby coffee shop and grabbing a table in the corner by the window. 
“You still like the hot chocolate here the best?” Hana asked, standing up to order. 
You moved to follow but she waved you off, placing your order for you and handing it over once it was ready.
“Thank you.” you smiled, “How much was it? I’ll venmo you.” 
“Don’t worry it was only like two bucks,” Hana shrugged. “Hobi’s been paying for everything lately, hasn’t asked me to chip in a dime! So I’ve saved up a bit.” 
“Oh wow,” you laughed.
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever! Do you remember when we used to come here like every day to do our homework and people watch?” Hana giggled.
“Yeah, it seems so long ago.” you agreed, grinning at the memory.
“Ugh, I still had that poofy curly hairdo and you wore those high school musical shirts all the time? When was that, like 8th grade?” she cringed.
“Freshman year of high school, I think. We met in high school.” you laughed. “Why did your mom let you leave the house like that?” 
“Girl I don’t know!” she groaned, “why did yours?” 
“I guess she wanted me to express myself,” you shrugged with a giggle.
“Express yourself right out of any chance to be popular,” Hana remarked sarcastically, throwing in a playful smirk.
“Hey, I don’t need to be popular. I just need a few good people around me,” you shrugged. 
“Hmmm… So, how’s Jimin?” she asked, glancing away and not meeting your eyes.
“He’s good. We were just on our way back to my dorm to watch a movie when we ran into you guys,” you explained.
“A little netflix and chill?” she laughed, but her eyes zeroed in on you.
“No,” you shook your head, “just a movie.”
Hana sighed, placing her coffee on the table and looked you in the eyes.
“YN, I’m worried about you. Someone like you shouldn’t be hanging out with someone like Jimin. When I invited you to that party, I just wanted you to get out more, not start messing around with someone like him.” Hana explained, attempting to keep her voice soft.
“What do you mean ‘someone like him’?” you asked harshly.
“You’ve heard what people are saying right? They’re spreading rumors about you because you’re hanging out with him. He’s bad news, YN. He only sleeps with girls to get what he wants. I know you’re a hopeless romantic but I can guarantee he doesn’t love you, no matter what he’s telling you.” she sighed.
“You can’t be serious.” you laughed incredulously. 
“YN, I’m just looking out for you. Jimin is-” she began but you stood and cut her off.
“Jimin is kind. Jimin is funny, smart, sweet and loyal. Jimin doesn’t talk shit about people behind their backs. Jimin doesn’t pretend to care just so he can cause trouble. Jimin doesn’t judge people based on rumors. You don’t know anything about him, Hana. You never cared enough to. No one has! You all think he’s some souless succubus who only uses sex to get what he wants, but you’re wrong. You don’t know him at all. Jimin is wonderful and I will hang out with him as much as I damn well want to because you know what? He makes me happy. So you and anyone else who has a problem with that can fuck off,” you seethed, slamming five dollars down on the table to pay her for your drink, not wanting to owe her anything, “Keep the change.”
You stomped away from the table, finally looking up from Hana’s speechless, shocked expression to find Jimin and Hoseok staring at you in mirroring astonishment. You froze for a split second, but in your rage, trudged forward, grabbing Jimin’s hand and pulling him towards the exit.
“Let’s go.” you grumbled, and he allowed you to pull him out of the exit and begin walking down the street, leaving Hoseok and Hana in stunned silence.
You didn’t let go of Jimin’s hand and he didn’t make a move to pull away as you walked silently to your dorm, your anger slowly going from a boiling rage to a simmer. You opened and shut the door with a little more force than necessary and flung the dvd cabinet open with a little too much emphasis. Jimin watched you curiously, letting you have your space and set up the movie before you crawled into your bed next to where he was waiting. 
You laid your head on his shoulder, needing the extra comfort of having him close after your emotional meltdown at the coffee shop. You sighed, letting the tension roll out of your body that you’d stored up from the encounter. Jimin wrapped an arm around you, giving you a gentle squeeze.
“You want to talk about it?” he asked quietly, eyes still on the opening credits of the movie.
“No,” you pouted.
“Are you sure?” he pressed, gaze shifting to you.
You sighed and sat up, turning to face him and pausing the movie.
“How much did you hear?”
“Hoseok and I walked in right about where you asked Hana what she meant by someone like me,” he explained.
“Oh,” you flushed, looking away from him. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
Jimin sighed, turning your shoulders so you’d face him and you gazed up into his eyes as he focused on you.
“Hey, it’s okay. I know what people think about me. I don’t care about their opinion. I care about yours, and maybe Hoseok’s. Sometimes,” he explained with a chuckle.
“I guess…” you trailed off.
“Thank you,” he spoke suddenly, softly.
“For what?” you wondered.
“For sticking up for me. For believing in me. For having my back,” he told you, his eyes swimming in an emotion you couldn’t place.
“Of course. I meant everything I said. You’re an amazing person and if people would just take a second look and get to know you, look past the wall you put up, they’d think so too.”
Jimin pulled you into his arms, encompassing you in his warmth and comfort, seeming to hold you together when you felt like you were shaking into pieces from the intensity of how strongly you felt for him. You relaxed in his hold, allowing the warmth of his body against yours to soothe your nerves.
“You’re my best friend,” he whispered into your ear, barely audible.
“You’re my best friend too,” you whispered back, hugging him just a little tighter.
Jimin smiled against your neck where he’d rested his head, and you hoped he couldn’t feel how loudly your heart was beating from feeling his lips against your skin, though he probably didn’t mean to do that. You pulled apart and snuggled into the covers to watch the movie, finally completing the task you’d set out to do since mid-afternoon.
Once the credits rolled, you were tucked into Jimin’s arms, drifting in and out of consciousness. Jimin glanced at the clock and sighed.
“I don’t want to leave but it’s getting late,” he looked down at your face.
“Nooo.. don’t go. You’re so comfy,” you whined.
“Are you calling me fat?” he huffed playfully.
“Oh hush,” you giggled, but looked up at him, biting your lip nervously.
“Can you just… stay? Just for tonight? If you want to, that is…” you looked down at your hands.
“You’re not worried someone will see me leave in the morning and start more rumors?” he wondered.
“I don’t care if you don’t,” you shrugged, meeting his eyes once more.
“Scooch over then,” he grinned and you giggled triumphantly, scooting over to one side of the bed so Jimin could slot himself between you and the wall.
He wrapped an arm around your middle, pulling you against his chest and sighed contentedly. You snuggled just a little closer, mumbling something about the chilly air in the dorm, but really you just loved being close to Jimin. Butterflies swirled in your stomach, and you listened to Jimin’s breathing begin to even out as he fell asleep. You followed not long after. Wrapped in the safety and comfort of Jimin, you swore it was the best night's sleep you’d ever had.
                                                        -♡-
The second Jimin had exited your dorm that morning, there were about 50 pictures of the incident flooding social media, rumors flying rampant about your night spent together. Every other comment was about how you’d turned into a whore or Jimin was just playing with you or you had to have something on him. You ignored them all. People could think whatever they wanted, but you knew you hadn’t done anything wrong.
On the contrary, waking up beside Jimin had felt so, so right. You’d somehow shifted in the night, both of you seeking out each other’s warmth and you’d woken up face-to-face, your noses almost touching. You’d opened your eyes to find Jimin opening his and you both smiled at each other, giggling nervously as you broke apart. 
Jimin had gone home to freshen up, seeing as your impromptu sleepover left him without a change of clothes or a toothbrush. You hadn’t heard anything from him since he left, and you were starting to wonder if he regretted staying, if he felt uncomfortable now. Your nerves were eating you up and after your fight with Hana, you didn’t really know who you could talk to about it. You sighed, flipping through a textbook while being unable to concentrate on anything you were reading.
A few hours went by and you were starting to lose your mind from the lack of communication and the anxiety it caused. You picked up your phone to distract yourself with something when a text from Jimin came through. You sighed in relief, opening the message.
Jimin [5:54pm]: The guys at the frat house say I’ve been boring lately and I’m not allowed to skip tonight’s party. Come with me?
Did he mean come with him as in… be his date? Surely not. Right? Your heart hammered in your chest. Sure, people had seen you and Jimin around together a lot, but it was another thing entirely to go to a party together. That was basically announcing that you were dating. Maybe he didn’t see it that way? Maybe he just wanted to bring his friend to the party?
You [5:59pm]: Sure. Meet you there?
Jimin [6:04pm]: Starts at 10. :)
You texted a little back and forth in the next few hours, then you got ready for the party andmade your way over to the frat house, wondering what kind of fresh hell this party would bring. Though, you couldn’t say all parties were bad. You had met Jimin at one of these. That had turned out to be the greatest thing you’d ever done.
You were filled with a sense of nostalgia walking up to the familiar front door and entering into the foyer, greeted with booming music and some cheering from the corner where someone was doing a keg upside down. You were startled by an arm wrapping around your shoulder, pulling you into a warm body.
“Y/N! Nice to see you again,” Hoseok grinned, leading you towards the kitchen.
“Hey Hoseok,” you smiled, a little confused.
“Jimin and I were about to play beer pong with Tae, we need a 4th player,” he grinned.
“Oh okay,” you smiled, walking with a little more confidence.
“Y/N!” Jimin grinned, walking over and wrapping you in a hug, “I’m glad you came. You’re on my team, ok?”
“Sounds good,” you grinned.
“Y/N, this is Taehyung, you’ve already met Hoseok. Tae, this is Y/N,” Jimin introduced.
“Nice to meet you,” Taehyung grinned a boxy smile, enthusiastically waving to you from his end of the island. “Sorry we’re about to kick your ass,” he added with an evil chuckle.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” you giggled.
“Have you played before?” Jimin wondered.
“A few times, not at a big party like this but I’ve practiced,” you mimicked brushing off your shoulders and Jimin let out a hearty laugh.
“Alright, a seasoned pro!” Hoseok chimed in excitedly.
“Is Hana not here?” you asked quietly to Jimin.
“I haven’t seen her, no,” he shrugged.
“Did they break up?”
“I doubt it, but I don’t know.” he answered.
“Alright, ladies! Let's go!” Taehyung shouted enthusiastically.
Hoseok took the first shot, landing it perfectly in a cup on your side of the table, and Jimin took the first swig, downing the cup. Hoseok shot again, missing by a mile. Jimin laughed before tossing his ball across the table, expertly landing it in one of the opposing team’s. Hoseok pouted but drank anyway. Jimin tried again, landing another. You clapped and hooted for him. Jimin got three cups before he missed.
Taehyung got two cups, and you drank both before he grazed the edge of the third, but the ball didn’t go in. You started shooting and got two cups before someone jostled you on your third throw, causing you to miss the entire table. You shot a glare to the offending stranger, who apologized profusely. You sighed.
“Minho is clumsy but he’s sweet. Don’t be too hard on him. He might actually like it. Kinky bastard.” Jimin winked at you playfully.
You choked on your next breath, giggling at his words. Neither team scored anything for a while, too busy trash-talking each other and cracking jokes to concentrate on the game. Jimin’s full smile had yet to appear, but he did seem more relaxed in your presence, so you took it as a win. He wasn’t quite himself, putting on more of a show than usual, but you decided to let it go since he seemed like he was having a good time. Surprisingly, you were too. 
Taehyung was sweet and funny. He was easy to talk to and super charming. Hoseok was a ball of sunshine and energy, and they both seemed to accept you as part of their little group with no effort at all. You were Jimin’s friend, and therefore you were their friend by association. You wondered if these were people Jimin could be honest with, they seemed really genuine, but you knew how guarded he was so you weren’t about to bring it up. They were fun to be around, and that was enough for now.
The night raged on, and your team ended up winning beer pong. You’d both gained a pleasant buzz from the game but Taehyung and Hoseok were absolutely trashed. Jimin explained that they might’ve pregamed a little too hard before the party, so the added beers from their crushing defeat sent them over the edge into utterly intoxicated. They were currently clutching onto each other and singing a very off key rendition of a song you didn’t even recognize.
“Hey, where’s the bathroom?” you asked.
“Just down that hall,” Jimin pointed, and you smiled at him before making your way there.
You quickly did your business and washed your hands, checking your appearance in the mirror and smiling to yourself about how well the night was going. Everything was perfect and after last night with Jimin, he seemed more… into you? Less platonic. Or maybe your mind was playing tricks on you. Either way, you were hopeful that maybe Jimin felt the same way you did.
That was, until you walked out of the bathroom and saw him pushed up against the wall with some girl’s tongue down his throat. 
You felt like the room was spinning. Your heart shattered and you found it difficult to get air into your lungs as you stood frozen in shock, eyes glued to the pair like a car wreck. You just couldn’t look away. It felt like years, but lasted only a second before Jimin’s eyes opened and he spotted you. He pushed the girl off of him, taking a step toward you, but you made a beeline for the door.
You weaved your way through the crowd as fast as you could, ignoring Taehyung who gleefully called out for you to join him in karaoke. You begged any entity that was listening to let you hold your tears in until there were no witnesses, focusing solely on getting your feet to move faster and holding your emotions at bay. You heard Jimin calling your name but you only moved faster, sprinting out of the open door and down the empty road.
How could you have been so stupid? Of course he didn’t like you. You were just the first person to show him, real, unconditional friendship. That’s all his affection was. Platonic. He didn’t want you. How could he? That girl looked like a supermodel. Of course she was more his type. How could you even think he would ever want someone like you? Because he spent one night with his arms wrapped around you and brought you to a party in front of his friends? Ugh.
“Y/N! Wait!” Jimin called, and you could hear his footsteps growing closer. 
Damn him and his dancer’s stamina.
You wiped any stray tears from your eyes and did your best to plaster on a smile as you turned around to face him, you couldn’t outrun him. You might as well act normal and pretend everything was fine. Jimin slowed to a stop in front of you, panting a little.
“Where are you going?” he asked breathlessly.
“Oh, uh. I’m going home,” you grimaced as your voice cracked.
“Y/N, it wasn’t what it looked like,” Jimin began.
“Oh Jimin, it’s fine,” you brushed him off, using every bit of your willpower to make yourself seem believable. “You can do whatever or whoever you want. It’s not like I own you.”
“I saw the look on your face, Y/N, I-” Jimin tried but you shook your head.
“No it’s fine. I should’ve known you’d want to have some fun tonight. You’re not obligated to babysit me just because you invited me,” you cut him off.
“But I-” he tried again, scratching his arm in frustration.
“Go back to the party, that girl is probably waiting,” you smiled, moving to turn around.
“Would you just fucking listen to me?!” he shouted, making you freeze in your tracks. 
Your eyes flickered up to meet his in shock, mouth hanging slightly ajar. Despite him being covered in tattoos and piercings, you’d never heard Jimin raise his voice or be threatening in any way. His sudden outburst caused your heart to flutter in your chest, both with astonishment and a little bit of arousal.
“She just came up and started talking to me, and she asked me to fuck, but I said no. She kissed me out of nowhere and I froze. As soon as I saw you I knew I fucked up. I pushed her off and told her to get lost. I don’t want her, Y/N. I don’t want any of them,” he nearly growled in frustration, running a hand through his messy hair. “I don’t want anyone else. I want you.”
Your heart stopped beating entirely. 
“I was scared to tell you because I didn’t want to scare you off. You said all you wanted was friendship and I didn’t want to push you away. You’re my best friend. You’re the only one who really sees me, the only one who really cares. You make me a better man. I can’t imagine my life without you in it. Everyone leaves but I can’t lose you. Not you. I… I love you. I’m in love with you,” he sighed, taking a step closer and gauging your reaction.
“You… do?” you whispered, scared that if you spoke too loudly he’d vanish and you’d wake up from this dream.
“I love you,” he repeated, placing his hands on your shoulders and running them down your arms to interlock your fingers.
“I love you too,” you choked out, your tears running freely now. “Jimin I love you so much it hurts.”
Jimin lifted one hand to cup your cheek, his eyes full of love and adoration and contentment. His gaze flickered down to your lips then back up to your eyes. You nodded, just barely, and he leaned in. Finally, after months of daydreaming about this very moment, Jimin’s soft, plush lips pressed against your own. Time seemed to stop, and everything faded away but Jimin and the way he kissed you. 
His kiss was gentle, but held so much passion. All the words he couldn’t say, or didn’t know how to, he flooded them all into the way he kissed you, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you closer as he worked his mouth against your own. Kissing Jimin felt like coming home, like the first breath of air after being caught in a current and forced underwater until your breaking point. It felt right. 
Jimin’s tongue danced along your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth, allowing him entrance. His tongue explored your mouth, sliding along yours and it felt more like a loving caress than horny college kids making out. Deepening the kiss had lit something inside you and you pressed even closer to him, pouring all your love and longing into the actions between your lips.  
Pulling away only when your lungs began screaming for air, Jimin rested his forehead against your own, his breaths coming out labored. His eyes searched yours and a slow smile spread across his reddened lips.
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he admitted breathlessly.
“Me too,” you giggled, hiding your face in the crook of his neck as the blush crept into your cheeks.
Jimin laughed and held you tight against him, rubbing soothing circles against your back. You both stayed like that, in the middle of the road, the only light being the stars and the moon, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was that Jimin loved you. Jimin loved you! And he wanted you. And you were safe in his arms. 
“Let’s get you home, yeah?” Jimin smiled, pulling back to look at your face.
You nodded, slipping your hand into his and walking beside him. Your whole chest felt like it was going to explode. You were elated. You were shocked and excited and so, so happy. You giggled to yourself, hiding your face with your free hand as Jimin walked you home.
“What’s so funny?” he chuckled.
“I can’t believe this is real, I’m so happy,” you admitted, biting your lip nervously and shooting a curious glance his way to watch his reaction.
Jimin smiled softly, pulling you closer to leave a gentle kiss on your forehead.
“Me too baby. Me too,” he said softly.
Jimin walked you home and you both crawled into your bed. Jimin wrapped you up in his arms and held you close. You felt like you were in heaven. You ran your fingers through Jimin’s hair, then trailed them down his arm, tracing his tattoos with the tips of your fingers. Jimin smiled, rubbing shapes and doodles into the skin of your back where your shirt had ridden up. 
His gentle caresses were soothing, and after the ultra emotional day you’d had, you were pretty drained. You drifted in and out of consciousness, shifting closer to Jimin and he grinned, holding you against his frame and leaving gentle pecks on your neck, your ear, wherever he could reach. You giggled.
“I’m so glad you’re finally mine,” he whispered into the chilly air of your room.
“I’ve been yours, Jimin. From the moment I met you,” you admitted sheepishly.
“I might not have known it yet, but I was yours too,” he smiled, kissing your cheek. “Now go to sleep.”
So you did.
                                                        -♡-
About a week later, the rumors were still running rampant about you and Jimin after you’d both made it official on social media, and were now spotted sharing sweet kisses and tender touches in public rather than just being together. You’d received a fair amount of messages and evil looks, girls upset that you’d taken Jimin off the market and now his skills were “going to waste.” You’d just roll your eyes and hit the block button.
You had been wondering about those skills more and more recently. Once you and Jimin had started dating, he had seemingly become allergic to wearing shirts. Prancing around your dorm room with his toned body on display, delicious ink decorating the surface of his ivory skin… you were frequently having thoughts that weren’t exactly PG. But Jimin hadn’t brought up sexual activity, and neither had you.
You felt like you could cut the sexual tension with a knife some days, but didn’t want to push Jimin into anything, not when you knew that he’d used sex as a way to push people away in the past. You knew you were overthinking, and should probably just talk to him, but you were nervous. But oh goodness did you want him. You’d wanted him from the moment you’d laid eyes on him, and rejecting his proposition that first night had been harder than you’d thought.
Now it seemed like every time you looked at Jimin, it became harder to hold back. Knowing that he knew you loved him now, and that he loved you too gave you that level of comfort you needed to be able to finally take the plunge with him. You wanted him to plunge into you. All. Night. Long. 
You shook your head to rid yourself of the dirty thoughts you were having just as Jimin climbed in bed beside you, snuggling up to your frame and pulling you against him. You smiled and ran your fingers over the tattoos on his arms, tracing the designs with the tips of your fingers as lightly as you could. Jimin liked that you were always touching him. Running your fingers through his hair, tracing his tattoos, or just resting your palm against his chest. It didn’t matter as long as you were touching him, he was content. 
He shifted, laying on his back with one arm tucked behind his head, allowing you to rest your head on his chest and trace the tattoos that littered the skin there as well. Jimin closed his eyes and focused on the sound of your even breathing and the feeling of your fingers gently brushing against his skin. He shivered a time or two, and you snuggled closer, assuming he was cold. Unable to rid yourself of the lingering dampness between your thighs, you let your fingers gently graze across Jimin’s pierced nipple.
Jimin sucked in a breath and bit back a low moan, but you heard his chest rumble with the action. You bit your lip and mumbled a quiet, insincere apology. You traced the tattoos along his collar bone for a while before your fingers daringly dipped down, brushing the other exposed nipple, which had Jimin tensing below you and letting out a quiet whine.
“Are you doing that on purpose?” he accused, focusing his gaze on you.
“Noooo…” you trailed off, looking up at him with faux innocence.
“I’m trying really hard to be good right now, baby girl,” he breathed out, almost as if he was in pain. 
“What if… I don’t want you to be?” you whispered seductively, letting your hand trail down his abdomen teasingly.
Jimin’s muscles clenched at the movement, and you noticed there was a sizable tent in his sweatpants. Your mouth watered at the sight. He was clearly working with some nice equipment. Jimin shifted so he could put his full attention on you, his eyes searching yours.
“Are you sure? I know you said you were waiting, are you really ready for this?” he asked, concern and a little bit of hope written all over his face.
“I’m sure. I love you, Jimin. I want you,” you smiled reassuringly, leaning in to place a kiss to his gorgeous, soft lips.
Jimin brought his hand up to cup your cheek, working those plush lips of his against your own. The two of you had made out before, but this felt different. You were filled with anticipation and need. You pressed yourself closer to him, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding gracefully along your bottom lip, which you immediately parted for him.
His deft muscle slipped inside your mouth, rolling against yours skillfully. His hand dropped from your cheek and snaked up your side, sneaking under your shirt and grazing along your stomach until he reached your breast, kneading it underneath your flimsy bralette. His thumb brushed against your nipple and your body jolted towards him, seeking more. 
“Mmm… so responsive.” he whispered against your lips with a teasing smirk. 
You furrowed your eyebrows, then let your nail scrape gently along his pierced nipple, tugging ever so gently on the metal ring. Jimin moaned into your mouth, his body arching towards yours. You smirked against his lips.
“So responsive.” you giggled.
Jimin chuckled, pulling back to look at you with a raised eyebrow, the light reflecting off the piercing there as well. His cocky look was gasoline on the fire of your arousal, and you made yourself busy by kissing down his exposed neck, leaving a trail of red and purple bruises in your wake.  Jimin’s low moans were music to your ears. You wanted to elicit more of the beautiful sounds from the irresistible man who had become putty in your hands.
Urging him onto his back, you straddled his hips and ground your covered core down against his clothed erection for a little relief, causing Jimin to let out more delicious noises. You kissed down his chest, bringing his nipple piercing into your mouth and licking around the sensitive area before tugging it gently with your teeth, scraping the flesh just a bit in the process. Jimin’s hips bucked up into yours at the action.
Your fingers teasingly dipped below the elastic of his sweats, running back and forth along the edge while you worked your mouth against each nipple. Jimin’s hands found purchase on your hips, his nails digging in just a bit so he had something to ground himself while you teased him. Your hand slipped underneath his sweats, surprised to find he’d foregone boxers. Your fingers brushed against his rigid length, and he tensed, gripping your hips harder.
“Don’t tease,” he groaned, head lolling back as he tried to restrain himself.
You giggled, wrapping your hand around his length and slowly dragging it upwards, letting your thumb circle the tip. You used the precum that spilled out to lubricate your next journey down. Jimin groaned, finally losing patience and effortlessly flipped the two of you over until he was hovering above you. He smirked at the surprised expression on your face and began leaving pretty red marks all over your neck and the exposed portion of your chest.
He sat up momentarily, pinning you with a hungry gaze and fiddling with the hem of your shirt.
“Off,” he commanded.
You immediately complied, peeling the fabric off your body and tossing it away, revealing your lacy bralette. Jimin’s eyes roamed over your chest and he licked his lips before leaning down and letting his tongue draw a stripe over the thin fabric covering your nipple, already erect and sensitive. Soft whimpers escaped your lips. It felt good, but you needed more.
Jimin’s lips traveled farther down your body, leaving marks all over your skin. He licked and sucked and nibbled in places you never would’ve considered erogenous zones before, but honestly, maybe it was just because it was Jimin. His tongue danced along the hem of your shorts teasingly before he glanced up at you to make sure you were still okay. You nodded breathlessly.
Jimin peeled your shorts down to expose your black satin panties, and you wished you’d worn the lace ones but it could’ve been worse. He brought the little bow tie between his teeth, tugging and letting it snap back against your pelvis. You jumped a bit and Jimin chuckled, mumbling “so cute” under his breath before slipping your soaked panties down your legs and tossing them aside.
“Damn baby girl, you’re dripping,” he grinned triumphantly. “What got you all worked up like this?”
“Jimin,”  you whined impatiently.
“That’s right baby, say my name,” he teased (although he wasn’t really joking), but didn’t waste much more time, lowering his face and licking a bold stripe along your folds to distract you while he snuck a finger closer to your entrance, letting your arousal aid him in entering you. His tongue drew some sort of lost language on your clit with expertise, and it was almost impossible for you to hold still with the amount of pleasure coursing through your veins.
Your hips bucked up and Jimin moved a hand to splay along your lower stomach, holding you down onto the bed while he devoured your pussy, slowly adding a second and third finger to stretch you out. It burned for a moment before you got used to it, Jimin’s fingers gliding along your walls and hitting your g-spot repeatedly. Even for your first time together, he knew your body like the back of his hand.
 You could already feel the coil deep inside you threaten to snap at Jimin’s ministrations. You were a moaning mess, babbling his name like it was the only word you knew. His plump lips wrapped around your throbbing bundle and he sucked- hard. You groaned, back arching off the bed as your orgasm crashed over you, your vision going spotty. Now you knew why they said he could make you see stars.
Your body fell lax against the mattress as you panted, before pushing yourself up on your elbows to see Jimin’s face lift from your core. He met your eyes and seductively licked your juices off his lips, closing his eyes and savoring the taste of you. Your mouth went dry at how erotic he looked, and he climbed up your body, pressing his lips to yours and allowing you to taste yourself. 
Your mouths worked against each other, and you wound your fingers in his hair, tugging gently on his soft locks, causing him to let out a low whine. 
“Do that again,” he begged against your lips, his voice deeper and a little hoarse, but needy.
You wound your fingers in his hair, gripping it tighter and tugging again. Jimin let out a strangled moan, grinding his rock hard member against your core. Your body shivered at the feeling of his clothed shaft pressing up against where you needed him the most.  
“Jimin, please,” you sighed, bucking your hips up to meet his.
“Okay baby. Oh fuck. Please tell me I still have a spare condom,” he suddenly groaned, reaching over for his wallet on your nightstand. 
You watched him curiously, your eyes lingering on the curve of his plump ass under his sweats. You licked your lips, wanting to bite into the flesh. You’d save that for another time. Jimin let out a triumphant noise and held the condom in the air like a first place medal. You giggled at your boyfriend and rolled your eyes with a smile. 
Jimin slid his sweats off in one smooth motion, kicking them away and onto the floor somewhere before ripping the condom open with his teeth and rolling it onto his length. Jimin paused,  peering at you from his place above you, a small smile curling onto his plush lips, his eyes alight with adoration.
“I love you,” he whispered, intertwining his fingers with yours.
“I love you too,” you sighed happily. 
“Are you ready?” he asked, squeezing your hand gently.
“Yes. I’m ready.”
Jimin leaned down, meeting your lips in a soft kiss, and slowly slid his rigid length into your honeyed entrance. You gasped into his mouth at the welcome intrusion, his cock stretching you in the most delicious way. Even with the prep from his fingers, his cock stretching your walls burned just slightly. Jimin deepened the kiss in an attempt to distract you from the discomfort, slowly inching more of his length inside until he bottomed out, his hips flush against yours.
Jimin fit inside you perfectly, his thick cock filling you up like he was made for you. He pulled back to look at your face, and you shot him a reassuring smile. He brought your joined hands up to his lips, placing them gently on the back of your wrist, and once you nodded your approval, he slid out until just the bulbous tip was left inside, before sliding back in, setting a slow, torturing pace.
This wasn’t your first rodeo, though you were nowhere near as experienced as Jimin, but no one had ever felt this good inside you. No one had ever felt this right. Jimin reached places inside you that no man had before and you were already falling apart at the movement of his hips. Jimin was definitely a dancer, able to move his body precisely and with precision, angling his hips to hit that soft spot inside you with every thrust. 
“Fuck babygirl, you look so beautiful like this,” he groaned into your ear, his hot breath coming out in short puffs from the physical exertion.
“Ngh. Jimin,” you whined, “Please. More.” 
“Can you handle it?” he wondered, experimentally dragging his cock a little faster along your walls, continually hitting that sweet spot inside you.
“Yes, yes please. Need you,” you whimpered, bucking your hips up to meet his.
Jimin’s brow furrowed in concentration and his hips picked up speed, his sole purpose in that moment to give you the most blinding pleasure you’d ever experienced. His punishing pace had you wailing out his name in ecstasy, clawing at his back in a desperate attempt to ground yourself to something, lest you float away into oblivion from the fire building deep in your core.
“Come on baby, you look so pretty when you cum for me. Let go,” Jimin urged, his free hand slipping between your bodies to rub at your clit.
“Fuck… Jimin!” you cried out, and his teeth sinking into the flesh of your neck was the last thing you needed to send you careening over the edge into bliss for the second time that night.
Your breath coming in heavy pants, you were surprised when Jimin showed no signs of slowing down. Your walls continued to clench around his length in the aftermath of your orgasm, and Jimin let our low growls at the feeling of your pussy swallowing up his cock with each thrust. You whimpered, slightly sensitive from your two previous orgasms, but Jimin pistoning himself inside you still felt heavenly. 
Jimin shifted, pulling your leg up over his shoulder, the new position allowing him to reach even deeper inside your core, and your eyes nearly rolled back in your skull at the sensation of his cock kissing your cervix. You were a whimpering mess, your moans now garbled gibberish, not making any sense. All you knew in that moment was Jimin and how good he made you feel.
His lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive flesh, and you shivered. His thrusts were getting erratic as he chased his own high, but Jimin was desperate to make you cum again first. He pinched and rolled your clit between his thumb and forefinger, abusing the bundle in the best way, sending you closer to your high once again.
“Fuck, Jimin- I-” you groaned.
“Come on baby, give me one more,” Jimin encouraged, using all his strength to hold back his own impending orgasm as he slammed inside of you.
Your whole body seemed to seize as you came for the third time, this one more intense than the others, making you almost dizzy with euphoria. Your throat burned with the force of your screams, quickly turning raw with use. Jimin didn’t last much longer, your cunt clenching around his length sending him over the edge. His hips stilled as he spilled ropes of hot cum into the condom. You could feel the heat from the thin plastic layer and wished that you could feel his seed shooting into you, dripping from your hole. 
Jimin collapsed next to you, panting. His body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and he looked absolutely edible like this. His plump lips parted as heavy breaths escaped, he turned his head and his eyes met yours. You were both shaking from the intensity of your highs, and you let out a quiet giggle which made a smile bloom across Jimin’s lips. He let out a quiet chuckle.
“You’re so beautiful,” he cooed, turning his body back to face yours after tossing the used condom into the trash.
His arms wrapped around your torso, bringing your naked chests flush against each other as he peppered chaste kisses along your forehead, nose, and cheeks before catching your lips in a sweet kiss. 
“I love you,” you whispered, clinging to his sweaty body like he was the only thing keeping you from floating away, and maybe he was.
“I love you more,” he grinned against the skin of your neck.
“Absolutely not. I love you more,” you pouted.
“Nuh uh,” he teased, fingers poking into your side, causing you to shriek and curl into him.
He laughed and kissed your forehead, relenting from his teasing and tickling. Your bodies spent, you drifted off to sleep together, safe in the comfort of each other’s arms.
                                                        -♡-
Months had flown by in the blink of an eye. Suddenly, it was May and you were graduating. They say time flies when you’re having fun, and they are right. Every moment spent with Jimin never seemed to last long enough. After the two of you started dating, Jimin had slowly begun opening up to other people. He learned to trust Hoseok and Taehyung, and your initial impression of them had been correct: they were people Jimin could count on. 
Jimin did lose a few friends from the frat house when he stopped trying to play the part of the indifferent fuckboi, but he didn’t really count those people as losses. If they couldn’t accept the real him, they weren’t worth it. The two of you had branched out socially, and made new friends as well. Yoongi, the music major, who began working at the coffee shop you both frequented. He was stoic and unapproachable at first, but Jimin had commented on his band t shirt once and Yoongi’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, showing that he was actually super sweet and thoughtful once you got past his icy exterior. 
Namjoon, the business major whom you’d met while browsing the shelves of your university library. You’d been having a hard time reaching the book you wanted, and Namjoon had assisted without you even asking for help, his much taller frame bringing the book down to your level. He’d told you he had read that book at least ten times and you would surely love it. The two of you hit it off and soon Jimin joined you, immediately connecting with Namjoon as well. He was smart, patient, and would make an amazing businessman, just from the way he could read people but never treated anyone any differently.
Seokjin, the culinary arts major who had gone around campus giving out free samples of his work, promoting his new youtube channel “Eat Jin.” One taste of his dasik and you were begging him for the recipe. Jin had lit up and began explaining exactly how to make it and invited you to an episode of Eat Jin.
Jungkook, who hadn’t quite figured out what he wanted to do yet, had met Jimin at the gym. He was boxing in the practice room that Jimin had reserved to dance. He hadn’t noticed he’d gone over his time, and when Jimin politely entered the room, complimenting his form, he’d flushed and shot him the most adorable bunny smile. Jungkook apologized for running over his time and Jimin brushed it off, but Jungkook insisted on buying him coffee as an apology.
Slowly but surely, your friendship group grew, each new friend weaving their way into your hearts and teaching you something new. They got along with each other as well, as it turned out. You’d thrown a surprise party for Jimin’s birthday and invited them along, Namjoon and Jin became inseparable almost immediately, and Hoseok and Yoongi as well. Taehyung and Jungkook became a dynamic duo, consistently stirring up trouble wherever they went. 
Hoseok and Hana hadn’t broken up, after all. Hana had even contacted you to get coffee, apologizing for judging Jimin unfairly and trying to get in between the two of you. She’d joined your little group of friends, which slowly became more like a second family . Jimin flourished, surrounded by people who loved and cared for him exactly as he was.
He didn’t have to pretend to be anything but himself, didn’t have to please anyone, play any parts. His smile reached ear to ear and his eyes shone with love and light and so much life. Thinking back to the way they’d been dull and lifeless when you first met him brought you to tears as you watched him throw his head back in laughter and wrap his arms around Jungkook, who returned the gesture with similar glee.
Jimin no longer seemed broken. The dead weight resting in his chest had been lifted, and he was free. It didn’t happen overnight, and beginning his relationship with you certainly hadn’t been a magic fix, but it had been a catalyst. You taught Jimin that there were people in this world who genuinely could care for him without expecting anything in return. You showed him that there was still good, and he could trust people. Then, slowly, he’d met more and more people who only validated the lessons you’d taught him.
The more people Jimin met who didn’t use him, the more the ice around his heart began to chip away, giving him the strength and the courage to save himself from the darkness that had plagued his heart and mind for so long. And now, you were all graduating, moving on to pursue your dreams and aspirations. It was the last party of your college career, and you’d all gathered because Jimin had announced he’d had something to say to everyone. You gazed up proudly at your boyfriend.
“Thank you all for being here to celebrate the last night of college!” he cheered, earning hoots and hollers from your friends.
 “I know we all promised to keep in touch, but I just wanted to make sure that you all know how much I appreciate you being in my life. I love every single one of you, and I couldn’t have asked for a more amazing group of people to surround myself with. You all have lifted me up, encouraged me, and given me the strength to keep fighting when times got tough. They say that sometimes when you’re in a dark place, that you think you’ve been buried. But really, you’ve been planted. You just need a little bit of love and patience before you bloom. So thank you for giving me what I needed to bloom. All of you. Especially you, Y/N. You were the first person who really believed in me, and if it weren’t for you, I never would’ve let in any of these guys. I love you, baby. And I love all of you,” he grinned, “So here’s a toast to all of you, may your future be bright and your beer be full!”
Cheers erupted around you and you cheered along, all of you knocking back a sip of your drink to Jimin’s toast. He hopped down and wrapped an arm around you, kissing your cheek as your friends congratulated him on his speech and shared how happy they were to have met you both as well. Your heart felt like it couldn’t possibly get any fuller than it was in that moment, surrounded by people you loved. 
You and Jimin had both grown so much since that first night at the party, you’d fought, you’d cried, you’d laughed, and you’d gotten stronger. You were so proud of him and how far he had come, and you felt peace settle over you knowing the fact that he’d never have to be alone again, and neither would you. No matter what you found on the road ahead, you’d be okay.
You had each other.
1K notes · View notes
worminstuff · 3 years
Text
dreamsmp mcmh
dreamsmp members as teachers au: blrub edition!
mcmh = Minecraft middle and high school
no warnings:)
wordcount: 3.9k
I will also definitely take requests from now on with this teacher au! Weather it be reader x teacher bla bla or whichever teacher and whatever prompt you think of! Just plop em in my inbox and I’ll check em out! I may not get to all of them or even see them all but I’ll try!
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Mr.Wastaken - math
“The quadratic equation isn't useless, you just don't understand it. Here,” the students glared at the diss from their teacher. Dream turned his back to them as he attempted to draw another diagram on the board.
He took a quick glance behind him at all the kids, he was only met with empty stares.
“Oh come on- guys! Really?” he laughed slightly, a wheeze crawling up his throat. They looked angry at him. “You all look like kicked puppies.”
One of the boys in the back kicked his friend. “Jared!” said friend threw his pencil at him.
“Okay well obviously we seem to be done with math today..” Dream sighed and shook his head slightly as everyone watched the fiasco in the back. He’ll step in. In a minute.
“If you throw the pencil by holding it by one end not in the middle, it'll spin more.” he called to the boys in the back. 
Mr.Blade - english
“Did anyone have any trouble or anything with the paired text writing last night?” his arms were folded on his chest, not in an angry or off putting way, his hands were just cold.
“Yeah actually I-” one student started,
“The rubric is the link under the one for the document template.” he  prematurely answered, a soft grin gracing his features.
“How did you?..” the student tilted their head in confusion. 
“You ask the same question every time.” Mr.Blade shrugged and everyone laughed softly.
Techno loved the little community that was his class, he's had them for about 3 months now so he's gotten to know them really well. This little bunch was incredibly creative and he really enjoys reading their assignments. 
Mr.Blade sat down on the edge of his desk and slid his still cold hands into his pocket, scanning the small group of kids in front of him.
“Is anyone having any trouble?” He tried to seem nice as he asked because he didn't want to come off as pushy. There was a chorus of yes’ and techno grinned.
“Well as you all know, as Sun Tzu once said-”
Before he could finish his sentence he was cut off by a series of groans and sighs as everyone rolled their eyes.
Techno smiled to himself. He really did love his job.
Mr.Jacobs - history
“Amy!” Karl excitedly grinned and dapped up a small girl walking into his class, “Was that extra credit assignment i sent pretty easy or was it too hard? I can switch it up if you don't like it.”
Amy told him it was fairly easy and she would be done with it very soon.
“No rush ames!” he said as he craned his neck a bit to look at her as she sat in her chair.
He was just about to step into his classroom as the bell rang, but a certain hand tugged on his forearm.
“Hey!- oh hi nick.” Karl's smile grew. Sapnap smiled but shook his head softly, “I've got a class this period but I wanted to come say hi first.”
Karl giggled, “simp!” he whispered before turning to quickly walk into his class.
Everyone was excitedly sitting in their chairs, talking about due assignments and anything else they could think of.
“Good morning everyone! Hello, hello, hello i hope your other teachers have treated you well this morning and if they haven't then that's okay cause you're here now.” he pointed finger guns at the bunch of them and then grabbed the remote to turn on the smart board.
Mr.Quack/Mr.Q - Spanish 
“Hola mi niños!” Quackity smiled widely at the bunch of  kids sitting in front of him, there was a chorus of answers from the excited kids. Many of them were in the “wrong seats” as to sit with friends because today, today was kahoot day.
Every Friday was kahoot day where they always do some type of kahoot whether it be related to the lesson or not and everyone was always excited.
Especially kids who have PE before this class, the coach's competitiveness really sticks.
No one hypes these kids up more than Mr.Quack, which causes for the occasional noise complaint.
“Aye! Mr español! Keep it down here you spanish gremlins.” Mr.Dude pressed his head through the doorway scolding the class, the students erupted into a large fit of laughter only causing their volume to rise.
“You can’t put a volume warning on learning Sam! We're popping off!” Quackity yelled over the laughter of his students.
Mrs.Nihachu - art
“Oh my goodness! This is beautiful!” Mrs.Nihachu flashed a sweet smile to the student in front of her. She was handed a small doodle of a flower and she was already pinning it on the board beside her desk.
Her class was currently working on their test grade assignments, some making sculptures with cardboard or paper mache, some making clay creations, others painting. It was a big jumble of chaotic creativeness and nikki was enjoying it thoroughly.
Her class was often chaotic in this way, but during lunch time it was much calmer. There was a small group of students that would eat in her room to escape the crazy chaos of the lunchroom, and she enjoyed it as much as them.
She loved to listen in on the current drama and give advice where she could, they were her little buddies and she adored them.
Coach Sapnap & Coach Punz - PE
The sound of a whistle was no stranger to this classroom, or rather, this gymnasium. There was only one whistle, and two teachers. Both coaches made it ritual that whoever got there first would get it for the day.
Today, Coach Sapnap happened to get the whistle first.
“Okay kiddos-” coach Punz was cut off by the blaring sound of the whistle beside him.
“Airtight Kiddos!” Coach Sapnap clapped happily as all the students turned their attention towards the two Coaches. “It's kickball day,” he grinned deviously as the students cheered.
Both of them directed the class to one end of the gym to split them into teams.
“Okay so we’ll pick two team captains, and then they'll go back and forth picking their team and then once everyone's picked, the team captains can rock paper scissors to pick which one of us you want on your team.” Punz explained and everyone nodded.
sapnap picked one of the smaller girls in the class as one captain, and another kid standing near her as the other. Both of the kids picked through the class until it was separated into two groups.
“Okay! Ready?” they both nodded. “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” the girl had picked rock, and the other kid picked scissors. Immediately the victor pointed to Punz with a small smile.
Punz’s arms shot up in the air “Aye! That's right! Gimme five!” he high fived her small hand.
sapnap smiled and shook his head, “no this works out perfect because i know you guys were hoping for me on your team, right?” sapnap joked to his team, one boy jokingly piped up,
“well..Coach punz is ideal but, you're okay too.” the whole class erupted into laughter until Sapnap blew his whistle ushering them to start the game already.
Mr.Notfound - engineering 
“Mr.Notfound where are the extension cords for the soddering table?” George currently had his freshman period and they were working on a lightboard project. Today's task was soldering the leds to the correct wires and such on the back of the projects.
“Em..they should be there..are they just not? Or are they on top of it and you just didn't look?” he quirked a brow at the freshman.
“No, it's just not there..” they shrugged. 
George nodded, “alright, do you want to go ask Mr.Wastaken if he's got a spare or would you rather me go instead?” George asked with a small smile. He was quite stonic before so he was afraid the kid thought he was mad at them. The freshman said they would and scurried off.
George decided he wanted to walk around the class and see how everyone was faring with their projects and if there was anything else they couldn't find. 
He walked around all the desks and lab tables and stopped at a small group of friends all working separately but sitting together.
“How's it going over here?” He held a very small smile. The group replied positively and each showed their projects to which he praised. They were all really really cool already, and he couldn't wait to show Dream some of his favorites after they were turned in to be graded.
Mr.Fundy - biology
“Mr.Fundy, your coat is very...bright.” A student named Owen, was referring to his very colorful lab coat. He sounded as if he was trying to compliment him, but he really couldn’t just LIE to his teacher.
Fundy narrowed his eyes at Owen. Owens desk was directly in front of the lab table that was his desk, in the front of the room. Fundy was stood behind it.
Fundy placed his hands on the table and leaned forward, “are you making fun of me?”
“He SO is.” The girl next to Owen said with a grin.
“Hey! I wasn’t! It’s just very...different.” Owen defended.
Fundy pointed an accusing finger, “there’s that backhanded tone again!” He ended it with a giddy laugh.
The rest of the class joined in until, “alright alright! I get it! It’s not super pretty but! It’s a great Segway into today’s lab,”
The rest of the class groaned loudly, smiles showing through.
Fundy snorted a laugh and shook his head, pulling some beakers from the drawers in the table.
Electives:
Teacher Eret - sociology
“So she told you you weren’t invited? After all that?!” Eret was currently chit chatting with his very small third period clas that consisted of a small group of kids that happened to be friends.
“Right teacher eret! I was like, woah, that’s so honked up! So we all decided we’re not going.” A girl named Jane said.
“Well that’s very sweet of you, I would’ve done the same.” Eret patted the first girls head endearingly as he walked back to his desk to sit in his desk chair. The girls continued their small conversation, including teacher eret when they wanted input.
Eret was heavily fond of classes like this where they were all very close already and he found it easy to bond with them. It just happened that these girls did there work on time so they had plenty of time to chat with him and eachother. 
His favorite thing was when they’d give him fashion advice, because he always took them up on it. It paid off too, he’s a very dashing dude because of it!
Mr. Dude - comp science
Sam was sat at his desk typing away as the class was doing a quiet activity. They were playing around with coding websites that are essentially games. The class was fairly small, so he’d grown quite a bond with his little dudes over the past couple months.
“How are all you guys other classes going?” He asked, turning his chair to face them.
“Mr.Notfound is honestly about to give me a headache.” One of the girls sat towards the window said, her friend beside her laughed and nodded.
Sam laughed softly, “how come?”
“His room is always a mess! I can never find the correct pieces for anything. You have to look where you wouldn’t think it would ever be and then that’s where it always is!”
A few other kids laughed and agreed as they had him aswell.
“Not to mention he gets grouchy sometimes when we ask him to much.” One boy poked in.
“He does? That’s not to nice. I’ll poke him about it.” Sam said to his kiddos with a soft smile, “how we feeling about a snack break?”
All the kids quickly agreed and he pulled a box out from under his desk with various snacks and drinks and placed it on the floor in the front of the room.
“Have at it!” He made his way back to his desk as there were various wrapper sounds and “thanks Mr.Dude”’s
Mr.Soot - drama
“Okay let me get this straight- you did the script assignment but you didn’t study the lines?” Mr.Soots eyes were narrowed.
“Well no i used the script to help but I didn’t memorize it.” The girl in front of him said, her name is gene.
“Hm. Alright, you can just read off it then I suppose, it better not render your performance though, geney!” He smiled as he nudged her towards the stage. 
The students were doing this group project where they made their own story’s and scrips and they got to perform them for fun, not for a grade. They had a free day so they decided it would be fun to do it today, and Wilbur was the most exciting out of all of them.
He watched each one, giving copious amounts of praise and encouragement and he really enjoyed it. The bell rang faster than they’d all expected since they were having so much fun, and he waved them off as they went on to their next class.
Wilbur sighed to himself, a content smile on his face as he sat in the front row of the auditorium. 
“What’s with the sigh?” A voice started him slightly as it broke the silence of the large room.
“Jesus phil, a bit of a warning, yeah?” He pressed a hand to his chest.
“Sorry, should’ve announced myself. My bad, mate.” Phil walked up the small steps of the stage and sat on the top few, facing wilbur.
“You looked awfully content, a good class?” Phil asked.
“Oh definitely. Love that bunch to bits. They’re so smart and they’ve got so much passion for theater but they’re so carefree and they have so much fun. I just love to be a part of it. Makes my job a whole lot more fun.” Wilbur spoke with a proud grin. It was true, he really did adore his students and he was beyond proud of them.
“I’m glad!” Phil stood, “keep up the good work, kid.” He clapped him on the shoulder as Wilbur nodded.
Mr.Schlatt - political science
“No you said it was before the time you had it, therefore your argument is invalid cause how can you claim you had it during that time if the entire argument is based around you not having it?”
Schlatt stared at the student in front of him. He was a tad speechless, which was impressive in itself.
They were talking about a stupid debate thing shlatt had made up, but he made it with a loophole, wondering if they’d actually catch it. He was very surprised one of the students actually did.
“You’re correct actually. Good job, ren.” His brows were raised as he tried to hide his proud grin. He didn’t want them to know how genuinely excited he was that they figured it out.
“That’s stupid.” Ren said, with a blank stare.
“Aye!-“ Schlatt was about to go off a tad when the door opened and Mr.Q stood in the doorway.
“Am I interrupting a yelling session?” He asked
“Yes.” Both Ren and Schlatt answered at the same time.
Mr.Halo - self defense
Mr.Halos class was one of the chilliest, like Erets and Sams, there wasn’t a whole lot of work getting done during class since they would just talk about various things and have snacks.
Today Bad taught them about various hotlines they may need to know about for different situations they’d find themselves in.
“Do they just make hotlines for everything these days Mr.Halo?” One kid asked.
“Well sometimes. Not for everything though, but definitely for a lot of things.” He responded.
He was currently sat cris cross on the rug in the front of his room, munching on a orange as the rest of the class was also having snacks. 
He loved classes like this because these were times when his job didn’t feel like work, he loved that he was helping make sure these kids could be educated enough to protect themselves when he couldn’t. He worried about them, but he felt happy when he could see them safe and sound, and not hungry, like they were at the moment. He cherished these simple moments the most.
Even more than the times he’s watched them scrimmage some defense tactics and evidently fall on their butts in some instances. 
Mr.Skeppy - money management
“Mr Skeppy, I'm bored.” 
“Okay.” Skeppy replied as he stared at his computer screen, his head rested in his hand.
The student scowled slightly, others giggled to themselves.
“Mr.Skeppyyyy” the kid groaned, the kids around him laughing. 
“Fine, if i put up a kahoot will you all leave me alone?” He smiled softly, sending the kid a side eye.
The class agreed loudly and he pulled up a kahoot about vines.
“Whoever gets first place gets 6 bucks.” Skeppy said with a grin as he leaned back in his chair.
“Isn’t that counter productive to the lesson we’re learning about waisting money on stupid things?” One girl said.
“Why six?!” Another student suddenly said, the rest of the class flowing into laughter.
Mr.H - hospitality
“Wait so your other teachers didn’t give you guys valentines?” Mr.H asked, his eyes wide as he stared at the kids in front of him.
They all shook their heads, “Mr.Jacobs and Mrs.Nihachu did. But that’s it.” One boy said as he shrugged.
“Mr.Wastaken didn’t even know it was valentines until we mentioned it, poor Mr.Notfound.” One girl said back, her eyes trailing of to the floor as she raised her brows. 
Mr.H laughed loudly, he loved how his kiddos were so comfortable in his class to diss their own teachers.
“Well not here! Today you all have a valentine and that valentine is me.” He said as he placed little bags full of different candies on each of their desks. He put them together all by himself with little hand written letters. It was adorable.
They all excitedly opened the little presents and read the notes together, all of them giving Mr.H a hug. 
It was a very adorable day in the H classroom.
Mr.Frost - horticulture
“Mr.Frost! Can we go outside for class today?” The students were filing in for class since the bell just rang.
“Sure! How about..how about we go bug hunting?” He replied.
The students all agreed very excitedly. Once the bell rang for the start of the period they began doing their begging of class rituals which included watering a bunch of different plants and taking care of the compost bin. Then once that was all done everyone got some jars and set out to go outside and see what they could find.
Everyone ran around trying to find different things and yelling out when they did find things.
“Mr.Frost! I found a caterpillar!” A boy named Lennon ran up to Ant.
“Really?! Show!” Ant watched happily as the boy showed his new caterpillar friend.
They discussed what type of caterpillar it may be before Lennon ran back off to his friends. 
Ant loved classes like this where he got to be outside in the sun and watch all his students learn hands on in a super fun (and adorable) way. It was one of his all time favorite things.
Staff:
Mr.Minecraft - principal
“but it’s so annoying! Why can’t I just leave when I gotta go, why should I ask to take a piss!” 
Phil stared at the boy in front of him, a blond one by the name of Tommy. This kid frequented his office way to often.
“I don’t know Mr.Innit but you’ve got to listen to your teachers, it'll get you out of my office and I think that’s something we both want.” Mr.Minecraft glared slightly.
“Oh come on! You don’t like hanging with me Mr.Minecraft?!” Tommy said with a grin.
“No, Tommy we’re not ‘hanging out’ you’re in trouble.”
“Well when you put it that way it seems bad-“ Phil cut tommy off,
“It is bad Tommy!” He scoffed, holding in a laugh.
Mrs.Puffy - councilor 
Mrs.Puffy was a hugger, a very big hugger. So whenever kids came in crying over just anything, hugs were a must. Often students would visit when they only needed a hug! Sometimes that was her favorite thing.
“He said there was no-“ the small girl heaved for air a tad before continuing, “l-late credit, but but I didn’t have time and I- I need to get the grade and I just-“
“Hey, hey, it’s alright! Mr.Blade seems scary but I bet if he knew you were this stressed he would be very happy to help you out! He’s a very nice man.” Mrs puffy wad currently trying to calm this girl out of a the panic attack she was seemingly having.  
“R-really?” She asked Mrs.Puffy
“Of course! I actually think he’s got a free period right now, would you like to talk to him now? I can have him come here so I’ll be here to and it’ll be easy peasey lemon squeezey!” Puffy said with a big smile.
The girls nodded softly with a sniffle and puffy brought her in for a hug.
She would always have the kids backs, no matter what. Even if that meant talking to the big scary Mr.Blade, who was more likely afraid of her really.
Teacher Callahan - substitute
“Callahan!” Mr.Wastaken yelled, he was laughing but he was getting slightly frustrated.
Callahan apparently didn’t have a class this period, so he went to Mr.Wastakens class as he usually does to annoy him.
Callahan has been taking the pens for the whiteboard dream was trying to use and passing it around to students to pass to each other . It was very funny.
Callahan didn’t always pick this class because of Dream, he also picked it because there was a fellow mute in this period. Her name was alise, and she used ASL alot, which made Callahan actually learn a bit so he could talk to her! 
Dream actually thought it was really cute, so he tried to get Callahan to teach him some as well, so he could talk to alise the way she communicated. This backfired terribly after dream learned that thank you, and fuck you, we’re actually very similar signs. Callahan had taught him the latter. Alise never corrected him, she only made a silly face and huffed out a small laugh. Dream apologized a lot once he learned. Callahan thought it was hilarious though, so often him and alise sign said sign to dream just to tease him.
Another thing Callahan did often was stand behind dream, and mock him. Dream would walk farther from the board as he would go on and on talking with his hands and such. Callahan would make his way behind him and pretend to sit on the edge of his desk.
So every time dream would turn around wondering why all the kids were laughing at him, he would see a normal looking Callahan who would only shrug. This always made the kids laugh even more. No one would rat him out though, it was teacher Callahan!
438 notes · View notes
lovely-necromancy · 3 years
Text
A Cure for Insomnia CH.4
WARNING OF DEPICTION OF A PANIC ATTACK and mentions of drugging. 
////////
The rest of the day went by pretty uneventfully. That is after Nate lectured you about stranger danger and how you couldn't just walk forty miles in two hours. You really have no clue how you messed up the math that bad or how calling Nate for a ride never crossed your mind. Nate made you promise not to get into another stranger's car, especially without knowing their fucking names.
“I mean seriously YN, you just hopped in their car because they had a dog?! That's literally the first thing they tell you not to do when you learn about stranger danger!” he said munching on a boston cream donut. It was a good thing you'd brought donuts because you caused this man to stress eat...or was that a bad thing?
After you agreed to having better stranger danger instincts, Nate told you things would be run a little differently around the shop. Apparently the camera out back had died on Sunday, which although weird could be explained away as a camera that hasn't been updated or switched out since the shop was opened, maybe even before then too. So unfortunately Big Jo and Nate still didn't know who broke into your car or if they had been looking for anything. But Big Jo still wants to take precautions like the two of you leaving together and in the morning one of you waiting in their car with the doors locked for the other to come and then entering the building together.
Nate also mentioned a few other things, shipping and inventory related, that wouldn't really pertain to you or change any of your current tasks. It's really just to limit the amount of people coming through the back room. The back room was the emptiest you've ever seen when you went to check on your deer skull. You wonder if you hadn't been hired who would've gotten this position and how long they'd be able to keep their mouth shut about the obviously illegal activity going on. But you remember the person who had this position before you had been Bambi, a sweet if not oblivious girl. So, had you not come along the Cowells would have probably found someone else who didn't have an ounce of perception for their surroundings.
The week goes by slowly and with no further incidents. The deer skull has been completed and you plan on taking it to Maddie's Workshop next week to get a mount for it. In the time that you were bleaching and polishing the bones Nate took it upon himself to clean around the shop. Even though he's made it clear you just have to do your task list here, which takes about an hour maybe two depending on the tasks, he's always working on something.
Nate's the type of guy who's never content to just chill he needs to keep moving always chasing that high you get from accomplishing a goal, whatever he's made his that day. He's probably just substituting whatever he did daily with these new deep cleans of his.
Even with the lack of incidents following your car's break in the two of you have kept to the new precautions. Nate even going so far as to remind you tonight that on Monday if you arrive before him you'll need to stay in the car. At this point you think it's less about safety and more about the security of the store's extra curricular activities. Either way you don't really mind.
Things seemed to return to normal, you were back to driving yesterday and after you rearranged furniture in your house you felt a little less on edge. And every night this week you'd been able to get a good night's sleep, which although not too strange did stand out to you. Maybe another thing that had kept you on edge this week, because it meant when you saw a shadow pass by you during the day you couldn't write it off as quickly as you normally would.
But tonight it seemed your luck had run out. You sat on your bed with your sketch book in hand just doodling strange squiggles till your eyes were so tired they couldn't focus. Putting the book down to rest your eyes and crack your wrist, you sigh not feeling tired at all. The thought of a hike isn't really appealing right now, plus if you made a run into the mini mart you'd probably see either Ronnie or even Tim working behind the counter, that thought set your ears a flame. While the night life in Kepler was decent especially for a Friday night in summer, you just felt the need to be alone.
A drive was the best answer you had. You'd just choose a random lane on the interstate and take a random exit till you found a diner or something, order a tea and a slice of pie. Like you were a background character in someone else's story longingly staring out the window as your dreams slowly slipped through your fingers in this cold cruel world. Ok, you'd been joking about that because you saw a TikTok saying that, but your melodramatic ass actually thinks that sounds fun.
Throwing on some jeans and a flannel over you muscle tee, you were out the door. When you were checking the lock you'd heard rustling coming from around the house where your bins were. Worse case it's a stalker, best case just some raccoons. Either way you decided to calmly but briskly walk to your car, locking the doors immediately. Once in you drove around the side of your house, luckily, you assume, you spot the chonkiest raccoon you've ever seen digging through the bins. His tiny little person hands drawing an awww from you even though his demonic gleaming eyes should send a chill down your spine.
Hissing at the car Chonk returns to dig through your garbage. Weird how he only comes on your pizza weeks. Probably has a thing for Leo's homemade pizzas. You sure as hell do, as much as you love it you do save a slice for this little guy. You haven't put it out yet though, eh you'll do it tomorrow.
Having solved that mystery you sit in your car and link up your phone so you can have your driving playlist. It's mainly Folk Punk and Sea Shanties and while most might say it's a weird combination you say it's the same genre just different fonts. You could drive hundreds of miles into the middle of no where listening to this playlist and you'd be just fine...maybe have an emotional break down or two but expressing your emotions is suppose to be good for you. Mouthing along to Jim Bogart as it comes through the stereo you set off on your little excursion.
Just like when you have the urge to hike at night the urge to drive is nearly one in the same. Momentum taking you forward and not looking back as you do, needing to just go forward with no real destination in mind. Tonight however would be a little different you'd stop at the first diner you see that's out of Kepler bounds. Or turn right back around at one in case you hadn't found anything. There've been times that you kept driving straight through morning and didn't know where the hell you ended up. Not to mention you rarely remember the ways to get back after going for so long, and gps can only get you so far in some of the towns that also border the Monongahela Forest. You'd just have to rely on dumb luck tonight.
Unlike hiking, which gives you a burst of adrenaline as you push your body to its limits to move as far as you can and as much as you can. Driving gives a much more relaxed feeling, it's a feeling a weightlessness that gets lighter and lighter the further you get from home. Some may describe that feeling as a wanderlust or nomadic calling, but you've never cared for either of those things. You've only ever wanted to stay in one place for as long as you could remember. Moving around so much in your youth really messed you up, and you promised yourself this would be the last time you uprooted your life. And you've really come to love Kepler in these past few months. You can't imagine how you'll feel next year after getting to know the community more, but so far it's been really compassionate and understanding, a few rocky spots here and there but nothing like your hometown.
Without realizing it you've picked up your speed, you're doing 75 in a 55 zone. Even with no other vehicles around you slow down to just above the speed limit. While there might not be any cops around looking for easy tickets you don't want to risk dissociating at 75MPH or more. That could only end horribly. Though dissociating behind the wheel at all would be horrible. In the middle of shaking yourself from these thoughts you catch sight of an exit sign, which holds the logo for Denny's on it, and the exit is coming up in five miles. Switching lanes you cross over and get ready to hop off on the next exit.
You're pretty sure the only pie Denny's has is the dry apple with a scoop of ice cream. That isn't very appetizing to you, but then again you aren't really a fan of pie, a fact you seemed to gloss over when you made the decision to drive out here this late at night. Not too bothered by the fact, you remember Denny's has a salted caramel and banana pancake which should work in place of pie.
Pulling into the parking lot there are only three other cars, peering into the diner you don't really see anyone so the cars must belong to the skeleton night crew. Entering the Denny's you see there actually is one other patron, you only see the back of his head as he makes no move to look at the new arrival.
“Hun, seat yourself, I'll be out in a bit.” is the motherly voice that rings out from the kitchen, truly something you've only experienced in the south. Walking into a diner in the dead of night and  being treated like a daytime regular.
Seating yourself near the TV mounted to the wall you let the sounds of the soap opera playing drown out any buzzing you feel in your head. The waitress is out within minutes and though she startles at your masked face she regains her composure very quickly.
“I'd like the salted caramel pancakes if it's alright.” you say declining the offered menu.
“Just the pancakes?”
“Ah, yes please. And water's fine too.” it really pays to know the menu prior to coming in. Gives you ample time to run scripts over in your head.
Viv, the name on her name tag, nods and gives you a smile as she spins right round to the kitchen. Probably happy she won't have to run out so many times for just one order or maybe to spend time with the cooks in the back. You remember working food service sucked but the line cooks made it so much better at the end of the day. Even if they said you were too quiet and called you 'mouse'.
It might not have been exactly what you set out to do but this little midnight self date was really nice, you should do this more often.
Pancakes finished and mask back on you waited for Viv to bring out your check,  then you notice the other patron also making his moves to leave. You're sat facing the door so when he turns and comes closer dread fills your veins like burning cold dry ice. It's David, a local from Kepler you briefly met when you first moved. He gave you really bad vibes and over all was just a very skeevy dude.
What made you feel worse about him was when he left town to “help his sister” right after Bambi disappeared. Those in your circle told you she always talked about leaving Kepler one day but you trusted your gut in saying she didn't leave by her own choice. It got made for her, and David leaving just furthered your theory. You look away hoping he hadn't noticed you but unfortunately you could hear his footsteps falter and then pick back up by passing the door completely.
“Hey...YN, right?” fuck he remembers you, alarm bells are ringing at this fact. Why would he remember someone he briefly met months ago?
“It really is you, still as quiet as I remember.” what did he mean the two of you only met a handful of times and that had been because of your mutual friendship with Bambi.
Where is Viv with the check? You'd really like if she saved you from this painful situation right now. But you aren't sure what's worse having to sit here and listen to David tell you everything he's been up to these past few months, like you even care. Or the thought of leaving with David having him follow you and maybe doing whatever he did to Bambi to you.
“Yea so my sister's better now, I should be seeing you around soon. We should catch up maybe do Saturday Night Dead. Does the Crypt still do that?” great a fucking rhetorical question, he knows the Cryptonomica still does it's weekly movie nights, it's only been two months he's been gone. Not to mention it's a big hit and a huge source of revenue for the shop.
You haven't said anything this whole time, fuck being polite to a potential killer, and fuck being polite to this creep. He's just been talking nearly nonstop for the last few minutes. He must really love the sound of his own voice or thinks he's the most charming person to ever grace the Earth with his presence. Since he's not really caring that you aren't proving to be a stimulating partner in this conversation. He really does love hearing himself talk. By the time he's said his own goodbyes Viv finally makes it out from the back.
She apologizes for the wait, had to go on her break sometime you supposed. You take your time finding your wallet, it's in your back pocket but you wanted to stall for time since you could still see David's car out there, you were also keeping an eye on your own car. Only relaxing when you saw him pull off from the corner of your eye. Oh look you've “found” your wallet,  handing Viv your credit card you just want to get out of here quickly now.
You pay and leave a nice tip for Viv, while she didn't save you from that creep it's not like she could've known. You sit in your car for a moment or two just breathing in and out in the glow of the diner lights. Almost meditating before you begin your long drive back to Kepler with all these thoughts of David, Bambi's disappearance, and how it can't be coincidence that David is coming back at the same time that you have a break in. Could you be his next target? Were you just over thinking things? Just blaming this poor guy because you didn't like him? But you've always been intuitive and bad vibes aren't something to ignore. David appearing now meant something.
Just that thought alone put you on edge as your skin begins to crawl. With a few calming breaths you go to start the car and sync your radio when you notice the glow of the lights changed from the slight yellow to a sterile blueish white. Looking up where the diner should be you see the mini mart back at Kepler...how on earth did you get here? You didn't drive! You couldn't have dissociated while driving, you never even turned the car on and you can barely take a hike dissociating let alone do something as complex as drive a car.
It happens before you can register it, on shaky legs that move on their own you are passing the threshold of the convenience store and catching the tail end of a conversation.
“ppened to not feeding into delus...” the voice cuts off as the door shuts behind you. You know that voice why is it so hard to focus?
Something warm brushes your hand and you see someone in front of you. Who is that? You can't see their face, they've got a mask covering their face. Like you but that person is not you. You might know them...Tobais?
“Yea? You good there?” confusion, you blink hard and see you are standing in the mini mart now, Connor standing under your hand, Toby hovering close by and both Brian and Tim watch with unease over by the register.
“...I don't know how I...how I got here.” you register movement in the background but not consciously.
It's the shifting of Brian's head as he looks out the front windows and spots your Kia.
“You drove.” shaking your head, “Maybe...I don't...I dissociated?” in your confusion you can register Toby stiffen in front of you.
Fear, fear, uneasy, breath....are you breathing? Your head's so jumbled right now.
You scan the shop trying to look for answers that may help you but you find none. The more confused you get the more worked up you get, chest rising and falling rapidly. You take a step back or try to and end up falling on your butt. It's starting to get hard to breathe with your throat constricting, you bring a hand up to your larynx.
“..re.....have..attack......”
        “could be o...me..”
“.....pressure...”
Is all you can make out with your fuzzy consciousness before a heavy pressure is piling on your chest and knocking you fully on your back. The pressure is actually pretty lifting as contradictory as it may seem. Instead of restricting your breathing more it seems to be kick starting your lungs to exhale and inhale. With oxygen coming back into your body you can feel your toes and the tingle behind them. You can feel your fingers and the fur under them. Fur?
Taking in a big breath you move your head and come face to muzzle with Connor.  You give a nod of recognition to the dog before lying flat again and staring up at the ceiling. After about ten minutes you're thinking more clearly than before, which isn't saying much.
“Thanks.” you aren't sure who it's directed at but you still mean it.
It's silent until Toby breaks it, “I'm taking you home.”
“Car.” it's all you can manage to say but the message though distorted got through.
“I'll drive it, Brian follow behind.” there is no room for arguing, driving under any influence must be a touchy subject for Toby. Or maybe you're really fucked up right now and just can't comprehend how bad.
You use Connor to get up, he seems ready and no one else makes a move to you. Toby pushes past and holds the door open as Connor guides you, still holding onto his vest with one hand, and Brian murmurs something to Tim before following you three.
Outside Toby already has your keys in his hand, when did he get those? Did you give them to him? Your hand is risen, you must of...how on earth did you even drive like this. Had you really driven? There's a lump in your throat again and you're breathing's gone shaky, god you hope you didn't hurt anyone. You must have been zoning out for too long, not only is Connor pushing your legs but Toby has a grasp on your forearm coaxing you forward.
His grip isn't suffocating, honestly even seeing it there you still don't feel it. Maybe it's because you're so numb, or maybe it's because he's genuinely helping you but you can't feel the pain that  usually comes with being touched. The sharp jab that feels like you've been struck with a fire poker where ever someone laid their hands on you. After he's pushed you into the backseat, more like nudged you, even making sure you didn't bump your head, he buckles you in then snaps and Connor jumps into the car and lays across your lap.
You're shaking, actually trembling as you look at Toby. What's going on? Why can't you figure out what's happening? The brunette doesn't say a thing as he gets into the driver's seat and buckles in to drive you home. That's strange you think, how does he know where to go? You told him right, just follow the road...or maybe he guessed from the other day. What happened to you? Why the mini mart? You were at Denny's.
“This town doesn't have a Denny's.” did you say that out loud?
“I...I went for a drive, a town over...up...no.. north I think...” you start blinking barely able to keep your eyes open before your eyes lock shut. It's sending you over the edge even more in your confusion.
“Hey, hey just focus on the Denny's. What'd you do once you got there?” is he trying to distract you? Calm you down? Or is he trying to piece together what happened like you are? You can remember Denny's just fine, the dull yellow glow of the inside the skeleton crew murmuring in the back, the pancakes you had, and the “conversation” with David. Did David do this, had he put something in your water glass? Did you even touch your water glass after he left? Breathe. You need to breathe. Toby's waiting.
“Pancakes...I had pancakes. Then that creep came over...and he started talking. Didn't like. We aren't friends, I don't know him. I don't understand why he'd talk to me. Didn't like. Didn't like.” finger back to pressing down on your larynx and the weight of Connor preventing your legs from striking out at the seat in front of you.
“Wait, were you drugged?” Eyes flash to the rear view to lock with your own teary stare.
“No, maybe...I don't think so.” you barely feel the pain in your throat right now, this is all so overwhelming. “He left, I...I watched him drive off before getting in my car... I had an episode while the car was off then..” then you were at the mini mart. You never touched the ignition.
“I didn't drive, I never started the car. Didn't, didn't, didn't” Your attack is probably stressing even Connor out now, but this is all so confusing.
You're so focused on the fuzzy events you don't notice Toby bristle. Or how he grips the steering wheel tighter until his knuckles grow white despite his already translucent skin. He might not be able to feel or see it in the mirror through his mask but he's probably gnawing off more of his face. He'd deal with it after he dealt with you.
You've made it to your house and he's waiting for the headlights from Brian. When he sees them in the rear view he gets out but not before telling you, or maybe Connor, to stay put.
It's a few long moments before he comes back. But in the silence and darkness of your car, growing colder by the moment, you start to ground yourself. You aren't calm by any means and you're still very unfocused. But you aren't crying as the numbness overtakes you, you don't even jump when the door beside you opens. With a snap Connor is out of the car and soon you're being pulled from the car, that same weightless touch gripping your forearm. Toby guides you into your own home, and walks towards the hallway looking into the bathroom, the only other door, before finding your room.
Seemingly understanding your catatonic state he sits you on the bed and gives some order to Connor before he leaves the room. And you just sit on the bed staring into dead air as a silent guard sits in wait. You aren't sure what he's waiting for or why he's still there but the numbness has taken over too much and you can't find it in you to give a single fuck.
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violetwolfraven · 3 years
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Willie Headcanons
So I actually came up with this like a month ago and forgot to post it. Anyway enjoy my headcanons about our favorite sk8er boi. Be ready for feels.
Tw: death, car accident mention, emotional manipulation.
...
In my mind, Willie had a good relationship with his parents. They were supportive and everything. They both loved Willie very much.
And Willie has youngest child energy so I’m saying he has a sister who’s 2 years older and a brother who’s 5 years older. Their names are Delilah and Austin.
AND ALL THREE OF THEM ARE ADRENALINE JUNKIES.
Seriously imagine the worst possible combination of head empty only skateboarding and you’ve got Willie, Delilah, and Austin.
Austin started skating when he was 7 and got Delilah hooked on it a year later.
Their parents kinda didn’t like the idea of it but those two had already started teaching Willie basic stuff by the time he was 3.
But... the other two had other interests. Delilah was into art (painting) and Austin played piano (like, really well).
For Willie, skateboarding was his thing. And it always was.
He had fun with it when his big brother would put his hands on his and teach him to play a bit, or his sister would give him some paint and a spare canvas and they’d doodle together, but it wasn’t like skating.
As far as I’ve seen (which admittedly isn’t that far) it’s widely accepted that Willie has ADHD so I’m leaning into that here.
And Willie inherited his brain from his dad, who had a bad experience with meds and so wouldn’t let any of his kids go through it.
So Willie grew up unmedicated but probably better off for the time period. His dad taught him coping mechanisms. Him and Austin. Delilah didn’t inherit it but she was taught to empathize with her brothers and recognize when they needed her help with something.
She’s a badass who can and does beat up anybody who’s mean to her brothers for missing social cues.
But anyway while Austin had piano (and skating as a side thing) Willie got even more hooked on skateboarding than either of his siblings because his brain latched onto it from a young age and couldn’t let go.
We all have our outlets. The chaos in our brains has to go somewhere. For Willie it goes into skating.
When he’s young he and his siblings will skateboard to school and then after school they’ll skate all around Hollywood for hours.
They do their homework in random McDonalds and Denny’s and tbh become local cryptid customers. Like they’re just these 3 super friendly skater siblings who tip really well and visit every fast food place within a 20 mile radius of their house with varying frequency.
They also find e v e r y skatepark, empty pool, and vacant lot in that 20 mile radius that they can possibly find.
Their parents have to bail them out of jail for trespassing and the occasional vandalism every so often.
Sometimes one of them has stuff to do and it’s just two of them out skating but if two of them are busy the other one never goes out alone cause it’s dangerous. We’ll get back to that later.
So anyway when they’re 17, 14, and 12, Delilah comes out as a lesbian.
And the family is supportive of course because they’re a good family.
But her coming out gets Willie thinking. About how some of his friends have crushes on girls but he just... doesn’t see the appeal.
Like he has a couple friends who are girls and they’re great and he likes hanging out with them at recess but he doesn’t get the hype. They’re just more friends. So he doesn’t really see what his big sister is so interested in either.
In my mind Willie actually is from around the same time as the boys (dying in like 1999) so one day while nobody else in their house is home he and Delilah are watching Star Wars: Return of the Jedi and Willie’s again wondering why people think Leia is so hot cause she’s cool and all but Luke is right there and he looks really good and—
Willie: I think I might be gay.
Delilah: Yeah I know.
They talk about it and Willie does decide to tell the rest of the family but he’s a bit wary about anyone else because he saw how some of Delilah’s friends turned on her after she came out. He doesn’t want that to happen to him.
He does end up telling a few of his friends but he doesn’t quite not care what people think of him the way his big sister does.
Austin is the only straight one and he’s like. So awkward about it but in a sweet way.
Austin: So, Britney Spears is hot, right?
Delilah: Stop.
And
Austin: So I saw you hanging around Chris the other day are you two..?
Willie: ...no...???
Austin: Cool, yeah I didn’t think so. Just had to make sure. Not that I’m doubting your ability to get boys but I’d have to shovel talk him if you were.
Willie: If I ever do get a boyfriend, please don’t.
He tries. He’s a himbo if that wasn’t clear. Where did you think Willie learned it?
So anyway fast forward a couple years and they’re 22, 19, and 17. Austin and Delilah are both in college and Willie’s the last one left at home and things between their parents start getting... tense.
Like they don’t fight exactly but they’ve fallen out of love and things are awkward.
Even Austin and Delilah can tell and they’re only home on breaks and some weekends but for Willie it’s right there and he’s watching it happen. He has no option but to see.
They used to have a rule that they don’t go skating alone because it’s dangerous but Willie just can’t make himself stay home so he goes out skateboarding.
At first it’s never too far from home or anywhere where there’s too much traffic but as things get increasingly awkward at home he goes out farther and farther, chasing the adrenaline high he used to get from going anywhere and everywhere every day after school with his siblings.
Then his parents officially tell him they’re getting divorced and
And it’s not like he couldn’t see it coming, but... it still hurts.
And neither of his siblings are coming home any time soon so
So he goes out skating on his own, way too far from home. He keeps going until he doesn’t even know where he is anymore.
He isn’t really paying attention the way he should but that’s not why he runs into trouble.
The driver of that red pickup is drunk and he rounds the corner out of nowhere.
If Delilah or Austin had been there they could have yelled for Willie to jump out of the way, or maybe up on the hood so the impact wouldn’t be as bad, but he’s alone.
So he gets hit, and the car was going fast enough that he’s dead before he even hits the pavement.
After that there’s a lot of confusion but once Willie figures out he’s a ghost... it’s too painful to think about going home, so he just... doesn’t.
He doesn’t want to see his family mourning him, so he just distracts himself, skating everywhere he couldn’t before without getting busted.
Plus some old routes where he used to go with Delilah and Austin, just for something that’s familiar but not too familiar.
He’s on one of those more familiar routes a few weeks after his death when he’s skating down Sunset Boulevard one night, singing along to Toxic by Britney Spears blasting from a nearby club and a man dressed in a purple suit comments on how he’s got a good voice.
Honestly Willie is just so relieved to have someone to talk to that he forgets about stranger danger completely.
Plus he recognizes an Elder Gay in Caleb and assumes he can trust him because the Elder Gays he met at pride that one time he went with Delilah were so nice and understanding of how reassuring it was to see queer people of older generations who got a happy ending.
Caleb barely even has to try. He just lets this 17-year-old obviously-queer ghost rant at him for a few minutes, asks a few questions and finds out that he also can play piano, and convinces him to come to the Hollywood Ghost Club the next night.
From there it’s not like Willie has anyone to save him so of course he has to join the club.
At first he’s completely alone because the other performers scare him almost as much as Caleb does.
Then slowly, he sees how they give him space because they know he’s scared of them. How they turn a blind eye when he leaves the club without permission. How they don’t critique his mistakes with the same sarcasm they show each other.
Willie starts to realize that the other performers are doing their best to look out for him, and he starts being less afraid.
They’re all too concerned with their own survival to really protect him but if they draw some attention to themselves occasionally so Caleb doesn’t notice Willie being slow to pick up some tricky choreography, that’s not too risky.
The others are all like 21 at the youngest and they really don’t appreciate Caleb tricking a literal child into working for him no matter how talented said child is. (Cause Willie is good at singing and piano. It’s just not his passion.)
The twins are 22 but they died in 1925 and before that they were performing to support a younger brother who they never got to say goodbye to so maybe they see Willie as a kind of second chance.
Lyssa (what I decided to name drummer woman because I don’t know her real name if she has one) is 25 and she died in 1984. She had a daughter who’d be about Willie’s age now and... who knows? Maybe they were friends.
Fuego is 24 and from 1951 and he had a childhood best friend who enlisted and died in WWII that he thought he might get to see when he died but that boy moved on and so... well, Willie’s just a little younger than his friend was the last time he saw him.
In short Willie becomes everyone’s baby brother and they do what they can to look out for him even if they’re just as scared of Caleb as he is.
And the better adjusted Willie gets to (after)life at the HGC and the better they get to know him, the guiltier the others start to feel about him being stuck there.
Eventually a combination of guilt and worked-up courage leads Fuego tells him about the whole unfinished business thing, in hopes maybe he can figure his out and get away from Caleb.
It doesn’t take Willie long to think of his family, how hopeless he felt about the divorce, how worried he was it would change everything and then how scared he was to see his family in pain because of his death.
He realizes his unfinished business is probably seeing them. Letting himself say goodbye.
He almost gets away with it.
Caleb catches up and stops him in the driveway of his house and poofs them back to the HGC.
He convinces (gaslights) Willie into believing that saying goodbye was never his unfinished business and even if it was it’s not like it would matter because Caleb wouldn’t let him do it.
The next morning he ships the HGC out to Tokyo. They stay on the move for a long time and when they are in town, Willie is basically locked in his room.
The next time he’s allowed out in Hollywood, his parents don’t live in their old house anymore and he has no way to find them.
As a coping mechanism, he just starts making the best of a bad situation. Becoming better friends with the other ghosts. Helping soften the blow whenever someone new comes along.
None of that means he stops checking the faces of passing skaters or keeping eyes on restaurants his folks used to like, but it does mean he more or less gives up hope.
That’s what he’s doing when he bumps into Alex.
Look, Willie loves his friends at the HGC. He really does. But there’s a big difference between 17 and 20-something. Like the others will drink alcohol some nights and technically Willie was born over 21 years ago but he still feels weird enough about it that he doesn’t drink.
He hasn’t talked to anyone his age in a long time so Alex is a breath of fresh air.
Also he’s like. Really cute. And sweet. And funny. And shit, Willie’s fallen for him before he even has time to think about it.
He keeps thinking about how Alex doesn’t seem like he’d be physically capable of hurting someone on purpose so Austin would approve and every once in a while there’s that sarcasm that pops out which means he’d get along great with Delilah.
In general Alex is the kind of guy he would’ve loved to take home to meet the family. Them not included, he’s kind of... everything Willie’s missed about Hollywood in the form of one person.
Then they hang out more and Alex is still everything he’s missed but he’s also so much more than that and...
It almost feels like a part of Alex is still alive. And for the first time in years, a part of Willie feels alive, too.
They’ve known each other for like a week tops and Willie is already in love.
Not that he’s admitting that to anyone, because he’s learned the hard way that anyone you care about can be used against you.
Still... when Alex asks for help getting revenge on Bobby, he can’t bring himself to say no because he needs to keep Alex in his (after)life and the only way he knows how to do that (or to make people be nice to him in general) is to be as useful as possible.
That turns out to be a big mistake, because Caleb sees right through him in an instant, targets Alex to confirm it, then immediately starts the process to trick the boys into committing to eternity at the HGC.
Willie feels like an idiot for thinking he could actually get away with it. Doing something good for someone he cares about.
He hadn’t thought Caleb would be interested in them because he’d never actually heard them play. The assumption was that he’d make them do some small favor and then let them talk to their bandmate for 5 minutes. A clean deal where they never have to commit to anything. Willie forgot to take magic into account.
He almost manages to convince himself it was all a bad dream, but when he seeks out Alex and his friends to check on them, he can almost feel the jolts himself, and seeing Alexthem in pain feels terrible.
Willie knows that theoretically they could figure out their unfinished business and cross over, but that all depends on finding it and doing it fast enough and if they failed...
People you care about can be used against you. And Willie does not want to be used against Alex again. He doesn’t want to see Alex used against him.
So he keeps his distance, in hopes Caleb will think he lost interest. He’s pretty sure once the boys find out about the stamp they’ll hate him, anyway.
And plus, as he’s been taught by his friends at the HGC, you have to look out for yourself because no one else will do it for you. Maybe you hurt somebody by not standing up for them, but you can apologize later and hope they forgive you. You can’t apologize if you’re gone, and it’s not like it would make a difference anyway because Caleb is too powerful for anyone to beat.
The thought of how spending eternity with Alex might not be so bad even if it has to be at the HGC does come up, but ironically that’s what makes Willie decide to screw his courage to the sticking point and tell them.
Because he has seen what decades at the club has done to his friends.
They’re all great performers, and they perform happiness well even to each other, but Willie knows them enough to know how tired they all are. How they have been doing the same thing over and over again for decades and they are sick of it.
They’re young, talented tragedies lost to drug overdoses, or AIDS, or accidents, or suicide, and they should’ve gotten to rest after everything they went through in their lives. Instead, they got a curse disguised as a blessing. They got to stay on a stage, got to keep performing and soaking up applause, never got to stop.
Willie has been there a shorter time than most of them and he feels it. The exhaustion, because ghosts are supposed to haunt for a few years then figure out their unfinished business and move on. They’re not meant to be trapped for decades, used as party tricks.
A part of Alex still feels alive and being trapped in the Hollywood Ghost Club for years on end would kill that part of him.
Willie can’t let that happen, so as hard as it is...
He tells the boys what’s wrong with them. And by that hurt, betrayed look in Alex’s eyes, he’s honestly expecting him to never forgive him.
But then Alex does. And that almost hurts worse because whether he figures out his unfinished business or not, Willie doubts he’s ever going to see him again.
He honest to God almost cries when Alex hugs him because... shit, he hasn’t gotten a hug since he was breathing.
He goes back to the HGC and tries to go about his day, and keeps replaying how good it felt to have Alex’s arms around him, hoping that memory will get him through the next few decades on his own.
The ghosts at the club do actually gossip a fair amount and by this point all of them know about the 3 dead members of Sunset Curve.
So when Willie admits to Helen (what I’m calling one of the twins) that Alex hugging him was the first time he’d gotten a hug since he died, she hugs him tight for a good 20 seconds, telling him she’s sorry he has to lose him, and if Willie closes his eyes he can almost pretend it’s Delilah.
The next thing he knows, he’s locked in a closet.
Caleb comes to talk to (intimidate) him a few hours later, saying he knows what Willie did.
He’s magically locked in his room alone for a couple weeks after that and it’s essentially psychological torture.
Helen, Anna (what I decided to call the other twin), Dante, Fuego, Lyssa, and everyone else tell him not to test Caleb for the next couple years, but Willie has a heart full of love and a head full of fuck it, so he doesn’t listen.
He gives it exactly one day of being/acting scared and obedient, then goes out without permission again, fully intending to scream in a museum alone to let out all his feelings.
Remember: Willie didn’t see the Orpheum performance. He doesn’t know the boys didn’t cross over but by Caleb’s mood he has a feeling the outcome of that scenario was not in the magician’s favor.
He gets there and it’s literally this comic by the very talented @williessweatycherrysocks
He can’t stay long but he and Alex scream in each other’s faces, talk a bit, maybe sing a duet.
After that, they sneak to see each other when they can but don’t get to see much of each other for months.
It’s hard on both of them but they don’t give up on their relationship.
Through long and complicated events which I will outline later, Willie eventually gets free of the HGC, hugs his friends goodbye already making plans to take down Caleb for good to free them, too, and promptly declines an offer to stay in the Molinas’ garage.
As much as he wants to be close to Alex he’s done being confined to one place.
He still comes and visits like every day tho.
He knows a lot more about ghosting than the other boys do so he and Carlos get along amazingly like:
Carlos: So do you know who Jack the Ripper was?
Willie: No? How old do you think I am?
Carlos: I dunno but I thought it might be Caleb cause that would explain how he never got caught.
Willie, taking notes in his Things To Potentially Use To Take Caleb Down notebook: You’re a tiny genius.
No one was expecting it but everyone is in awe of how well he and Carrie get along. Between the two of them they know so much celebrity gossip. (and it’s definitely a good thing he’s on good terms with her cause she and Alex are close)
On the angsty side, Willie also bonds with Nick over how they both know how it feels to be manipulated and used by Caleb.
Also it takes a long time before he’s able to trust him, but he does get adopted into the Molina clan by Ray.
Ray reminds him a lot of his own dad, once Willie’s able to see that he’s nothing like Caleb.
Ray’s honestly just 100% happy to Dad™️ anyone who needs a dad so it works out great once Julie and the boys figure out how to make Willie visible.
But anyway back to important stuff.
Now that they don’t have to hide for any reason, Willie and Alex can both breathe a little easier. Or... they both feel better. Ghosts don’t really breathe.
Willie can finally let himself get used to feeling alive again.
The whole ghost gang goes (invisibly) to the Los Feliz Homecoming dance and maybe it should make him feel a little on-edge with the kind of club-like environment but...
He’s got Alex there, and they’re dancing to some corny pop love song from the 90s that Flynn probably put on because she knew the ghost boys would be there so how could he feel anything but safe?
For a minute it almost feels like actually being alive and there’s yellow and pink and blue lights coming from everywhere reflecting in Alex’s eyes and Willie is suddenly very aware of the fact that though they’ve been together for a long time now, they haven’t had their first kiss.
Then the Cha Cha Slide starts up and the atmosphere switches and Willie totally forgets about the whole romantic tension thing because it’s the Cha Cha Slide everybody has to dance along.
Dirty Candi performs towards the end of the night and the ghost boys cheer the loudest despite how Julie’s laughing at them. They don’t care that Carrie can’t even hear them, they’re being supportive!!!
Everybody screams even louder when Flynn runs up on stage and kisses Carrie and Willie feels a big burst of affection at how Alex shouts ABOUT TIME!
Then he gives Willie a quick hug and leaves cause he and the rest of Julie and the Phantoms have to go get set up for their performance.
Since Alex was able to flip Carrie’s hair in All Eyes on Me I’m saying that ghosts can touch lifers if they focus and believe it will happen hard enough, so the ghost gang has developed a system for alerting their non-Julie lifer friends to their presence.
So while they’re waiting in the crowd Willie taps Carrie on the shoulder like: • - - one short tap, two long taps, a Morse code ‘W’ and Carrie lets Flynn know that he’s there.
(Nick can see him too but Nick’s off somewhere with his date {one of his lacrosse teammates you know the one})
Anyway so Julie goes out and starts up the song and then the rest of the band poofs in but
Something’s unusual.
Cause it’s not Luke on the lower main vocals.
It’s
Alex
Singing while he plays the drums and fucking killing it.
Willie totally bluescreens for a second but then when he actually focuses on the lyrics...
It’s a new song about beating the odds and being with the person you love in spite of the challenges that come with them.
And yeah there are Julie elements in there, (and she’s definitely making heart eyes at Luke even as he sticks to backup vocals) because of course there are since she has to start the song up, but
But Willie might not have any formal music training, but he was at the HGC long enough to know his stuff about music and recognize different artists’ styles.
And there’s a time signature switch on the bridge that’s a little off from how Luke would write it. There’s a swing to the melody that’s a bit more ‘pop’ than the band’s usual songs. Julie’s harmony doesn’t go as high as it normally would, as if whoever wrote the song didn’t have as high of an upper range to work with as she does.
The song is so unmistakably Alex that no one else could have written it.
Flynn and Carrie are quietly making smug comments on what they bet his face looks like right now but Willie’s not listening to them.
On the last chorus, Alex fucking winks at him right before poofing out.
Willie has whiplash like how did they go from him having to psych Alex up to break into a museum even when there’s zero chance of getting caught to Alex openly flirting with him from the stage?
He poofs backstage right as the boys get back from dropping their instruments back in the Molinas’ garage and he honestly doesn’t know what he even wants to say to convey how amazing that performance was.
Then Alex just smiles at him.
Alex: So I take it you liked the song?
Willie: Can I kiss you right now?
They both kinda freeze after he blurts that out and Reggie goes wow really quietly before he and Luke poof out to give them some privacy and whoops now they’re both flustered but
Alex: Wow, didn’t expect that. That’s... um, wow. But yeah.
They kiss and it’s a total romcom moment.
And the story’s far from over, but to Willie this definitely feels like happily ever after.
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ok i have an inbox full of prompts, but i was making valentine’s day plans & all of a sudden felt very inspired to write some valentine’s day gallavich! featuring uncle mickey, homemade cards and a lot of domestic fluff- i’ll probs have a part two up sometime this week!<3
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It was a lazy, slow-paced Sunday afternoon at the Gallagher house. Mickey had been lying on the couch passively watching trashy reality TV for god knows how long—and apparently at some point he’d fallen asleep, because now the TV volume was just a low hum, and he was being woken up to the startling crash of the kitchen back door slamming shut, and the rustling of shoes and coats being taken off and discarded by the front door.
“Alright Franny, let’s set this stuff up on the kitchen table.” Mickey heard Ian’s voice sail across the room, his eyes still closed to block out the cheery sunshine teeming in the living room.
Mickey tried to doze off again, attempting to block out the bright light infiltrating his eyelids, but it was no use— whatever Ian and Franny were doing, murmuring and clanging in the kitchen, there was no way for Mickey to escape the sound now and drift back into his sunwarmed sleep. He begrudgingly shoved the scratchy crocheted blanket off of his lap, stretching as he rose and stumbled into the kitchen.
He wasn’t expecting the carnage that he saw when he turned the corner; the kitchen table was covered in an explosion of sheets of multicolored construction paper, all reds and pinks and whites, with tiny multicolored stickers and tubes of glitter and shiny ribbons arranged and spread wide across the countertop, scattered with glue sticks and pairs of scissors and an exploded box of crayons. There was a small mountain of cut-out hearts piled high on the table, smattered with glitter-glue and blocky handwriting.
Mickey rubbed his eyes, taking in the scene. “What’re you two Picassos up to?” he asked drowsily.
Ian looked up, his eyes light. “Look who’s awake!” He gestured at the table emphatically, like it was Christmas morning. “Isn’t it great? Me and Franny grabbed all this stuff at the dollar store for less than ten bucks. The glue sticks definitely kind of suck, but I think it’ll get the job done.”
Mickeys eyes scanned to Franny, who was hard at work trying to cut a shape out of a piece of red construction paper, her brows furrowed in concentration. Ian kept chattering on as he unwrapped another sheath of the paper.
“Debbie left Franny with me since some rich lady called her with a weekend handywoman emergency that popped up at the last minute, so now I’m helping Franny make her valentines for school.”
Mickey scoffed. “Fucking valentines?”
Ian rolled his eyes as he contentedly started to glue together two pieces of paper. “Yes, Mickey, valentines. You know, those nice things that normal people give to each other on Valentine’s Day, along with a box of chocolates or some shit and a note about how much they love each other—”
“Yes, I know what they are, smartass. Don’t know why you didn’t just buy the little cardboard ones at the store though.”
Ian smirked, his eyes still focused on the paper beneath him that he was smudging glitter on. “Yeah, well. Franny wanted to make them, and I thought it’d be kind of fun.”
Just then Franny gasped triumphantly, raising a lopsided and crumpled paper heart up for Mickey to see. “Look, Uncle Mickey! I cut a heart! Uncle Ian showed me how!”
Mickey raised his eyebrows at Ian, who had a sheepish look on his face. “Didn’t know you had so many hidden talents, Gallagher.”
Ian flashed a grin. “I used to be really into art class in elementary school, what can I say.”
Franny looked up at Mickey with wide eyes. “Do you want to make valentines with us? We have to make twenty-seven, because that’s the number of people in my class.”
Mickey faltered. Sitting here gluing fucking glitter to pieces of paper was not exactly what he’d had in mind as his plans for the weekend…
“Uh. That’s okay kiddo. I think you two’ve got it covered.”
Franny seemed to readily accept Mickey’s answer, instantly looking downward again and grabbing a fistful of crayons from the table to continue enhancing her masterpiece. Ian, on the other hand, tore his gaze from his own valentine.
“Oh c’mon Mick, you don’t wanna help?” Ian asked, his voice goading and his eyebrows raised.
Mickey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, thanks but no thanks.” He turned, walking over to open the fridge and grabbing a beer from the top shelf.
“C’mon, just one valentine. Franny can show you how to cut out a heart shape, right Fran?”
Franny nodded vigorously. “Yes, I know how!”
Mickey took a swig of his beer and sighed. “Jesus, fine.” He pulled a chair between Ian and Franny, slowly scraping it on the linoleum, and then perched on the edge uncomfortably. “Alright Franny, show me what you’ve got.”
“Okay, so the first thing that you have to do is pick which color is your favorite. What’s your favorite color?”
Mickey had taken another sip of his beer, and now he sputtered slightly. “I don’t know Franny, you pick for me.”
Franny’s face melted into a pout. “But you have to pick, Uncle Mickey, it’s your favorite color!”
Ian bit back a laugh, his eyes still bright and cheerful. “Yeah, Mick, c’mon. What is your favorite color? We’ve never gotten this deep in our relationship before.”
Mickey gulped again from his beer can and flipped Ian off in the process. “I don’t fucking know. Never thought about it before.”
Franny held the stack of construction paper up to Mickey. “Look! There’s red, and yellow, and blue, and purple, and green—”
Mickey cut her off. “Uh, give me a green one.”
Ian smirked. “Green?”
“Fuck you, it was the first color I thought of.” Of course, that wasn’t really true—if Mickey needed to have a favorite fucking color, it was obviously going to be green, like the green eyes that met his gaze every morning and were the last thing he saw before he went to sleep at night— even if he would never be caught dead admitting that sappy bullshit to Ian.
Ian looked like he was holding back a smile. “Right,” he mused. “Hey, Franny, pass me a blue paper? Cause y’know, that’s my favorite color.”
Mickey gently shoved Ian in the square of his chest. “You’re being fucking soft.”
Ian let a crooked smile burst onto his face. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
Mickey leaned back in his chair, holding the piece of thick green paper in front of him appraisingly. “Okay Franny, what’s step two?”
Franny stretched her body across the table to reach for one of the strewn pairs of scissors. “Now, you fold the paper in half, and then you cut out the shape of half of a heart, like this.” She drew an example of the curved pattern on the backside of Mickey’s paper with the tip of her finger. “And then you unfold it and it’ll be a perfect shape!”
“Sounds easy enough.”
Mickey took the scissors from Franny’s grasp, and held them up to the paper. It was just a fucking half circle with a little indent at the top— this wasn’t going to be too difficult. Ian and Franny went back to being absorbed in crafting their valentines, while Mickey started to botch and slash at his piece of construction paper.
When he was finally satisfied he unfolded the shape, the outer shell of the paper falling away. It was… well, it was kind of a heart, with two slanted sides and a wonky top half. It looked more like a blob attached to an angle than anything else.
Ian looked up from where he was doodling on a glittery heart and snickered.
“That’s uh… that’s a good first try, Mick.”
Mickey slammed the piece of paper down onto the table. Fucking arts and crafts, he was never good at this shit even when he was little—he fingers were always too fumbling, too clumsy for him to make anything delicate and pristine. Ian’s hands should have been as ungainly as his, but instead they were quick and nimble, smoothly cutting perfectly-rounded circles and gluing neat lines of glitter.
Franny noticed that Mickey was done cutting his shape. “Good job Uncle Mickey! Now you just have to draw on it, and put on stickers and glitter.”
“Yeah Mickey, let’s see those artistic skills.”
Mickey aggressively flicked some flecks of glitter from the table in Ian’s direction, then picked up a crayon and gripped it with an iron fist. What the fuck was he supposed to draw? This was a valentine for kids at Franny’s school, the fuck did kids like anyways? He started to draw some sort of stick figure, but the arms were too long and the head was too small, so he tried to color over it and make some sort of tree or some shit…
As Mickey scratched at the paper, he looked over at noticed suddenly how content Ian looked—how blissed out and settled he was, just running a crayon over the colorful paper and shaking bits of glitter onto pools of glue. If Mickey was being honest, he hadn’t seen Ian this light and happy in a while; he’d had a hunch in his shoulders for months after the wedding and the pandemic and all the minimum-wage job bullshit, the shadows of expectation hanging over him and causing a deflated weariness in his gaze that was impossible to ignore. But right now, Ian looked like he was having as much fun as Franny was, practically vibrating with satisfaction as he put the finishing touches on his drawing and reaching to place his completed valentine in the growing pile.
Mickey snatched the paper out of Ian’s hand, slightly crumpling it around the edges. “Wait a second. How the fuck did you do that?”
The valentine was immaculate, the heart symmetrical and traced in a thin outline of glitter. In the center of the paper there was a perfect little cartoon of a dog in a top hat, with an air bubble that read “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
Ian shrugged. “Watched a lot of cartoons when I was little. And I’ve always kind of liked to draw.”
Mickey shoved the valentine back in front of Ian. Goddamn perfect fucking husband who’s good at fucking everything. He crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, suddenly losing all motivation to play along.
Ian smirked, then reached to rest a hand on the back of Mickey’s neck. “Giving up already?”
Mickey rolled his eyes. “Fuck you, Gallagher.”
Ian’s smile just widened. “Here, how about I cut the fucking shapes and you glue stuff onto them. That’d still help me and Franny a lot, right?”
Franny nodded. “It’s okay Uncle Mickey, I was bad at cutting the shapes too at first.”
Mickey huffed. Okay, so maybe he was horrible at this shit, but the least he could do was suck it up for Franny’s sake. “Fine,” he muttered, and grabbed a glue stick and a bottle of glitter.
A few minutes passed and they settled into a comfortable silence, enveloped in the sound of the scissors gliding and Franny scribbling on paper.
Suddenly, Franny looked up as Mickey reached across the table to grab a pad of stickers.
“Hey Uncle Mickey, what do you and Uncle Ian do for Valentine’s Day?”
Mickey didn’t really know how to answer that question— he darted a glance over at Ian, trying to signal as much. Could you ruin the spirit of Valentine’s Day for kids in the same way you could fuck up Christmas? “Uh, nothing really.”
Ian chimed in. “We used to like Valentine’s Day when we were little like you Franny, but now that we’re big we don’t really celebrate it. Right Mick?”
“Yup.”
Franny’s brows were furrowed again, this time in contemplation. “But. You love each other, right?”
“Sure, Franny. But we don’t need a special day for us to remember that,” Ian explained.
Franny seemed appeased enough by that answer to resume her drawing. “You don’t give each other valentines or candy or anything?”
Mickey almost laughed. Of course he and Ian had never celebrated fucking Valentine’s Day; if he was being honest, he didn’t remember even really thinking about Valentine’s Day before now, other than it being a day when Mandy came home crying in middle school because the boy she liked didn’t ask her out, or buying all the half-priced chocolates in red and pink wrappers at the drugstore a week later with his brothers. With all the shit in his life the past few years, frilly fucking holidays like Valentine’s Day were just… not on Mickey’s radar.
But maybe— maybe this year was different. This year, for maybe the first time in his life, Mickey felt secure and steady in a way that he never had before, like the ground was solid beneath him and wasn’t going to cave in at any minute. He had a fucking husband that he loved—why couldn’t they celebrate Valentine’s Day like a normal goddamn couple? Ian didn’t seem to be too bothered that they both didn’t give a fuck about the holiday, which was all the more reason to catch him off guard. He kept pressing stickers down onto the construction paper, his mind starting to churn.
By the time they’d made the twenty-seven fucking valentines, Mickey had made up his mind; this year, he and Ian were going to celebrate Valentine’s Day.
part two here!
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shahrukharry · 3 years
Note
hey!! how are you? hope you are taking good care of yourself. can you write a blurb based on this prompt: Person A and Person B leaving little notes around the house for each other to read (Ex: “Went to the store. I’ll be back soon” “We’re out of bread, can you get some?” or “Happy birthday, hoe”)
Sticky promises
A/N: Since it’s October, I thought why not make it a little bit wintery? I hope you like it and I’m sorry it took me so long to have it ready :) Please let me know what you think about this one! Happy reading xx
{MASTERLIST}
+++++++++++++++++++++++++
Popping out to fetch some milk, we ran out of the last carton. Don’t worry, there’s half a cup in the fridge for your coffee. See you later- H :)
She rubs her sweater clad paw over her eyes as they scan the small, pastel yellow Post-it sitting upon the metallic backdrop of the refrigerator door. Her sleep-muddled brain barely registers what she reads, slowly configuring the words and grasping onto them before she pulls out the chilled ceramic vessel to leave to rest on the kitchen counter and proceeds towards the bathroom to brush her teeth. Her roommate’s ability to wake up so early on a chilly winter morning will always be beyond her understanding but she wouldn’t expect anything less from a biology major. 
Another one of his habits that leaves her confused for the first few months she’d spent with him was his affinity towards sticking up little notes everywhere around the house.
It’s been about a year and a half since they ended up living in an apartment together and about a year and a half since he’s been practising this ritual rather devotedly. She probably wouldn’t admit it in front of him, but it’s starting to grow on her- this habit of leaving small messages for him to read when he returns home and she’s not there, something to lighten his day when the external pressure wears him out and it becomes difficult for him to bear everything. And maybe she don’t have to admit it because he can clearly see it when he comes home to some cheeky notes littered across the flat with numerous haphazard drawings and emojis on them. 
He isn’t any different, although his “forte” is a little different than her as he takes it upon himself to fill all his notes with poor-humoured jokes for her to see when she comes back home after a tiring business economics class. She cannot even stay mad at him because that would only irk him further to irritate her with his piss poor jokes and riddles. 
The beginning of it all was when Harry would be out all day for his practical sessions and Shiro needed to be fed in the afternoon. She would come home to a very docile, obedient Shiro sitting beside his kitty-printed bowl with a sticky note attached to it to remind her to “Don’t feed him anymore than half a bowl, I know he’ll be greedy but please don’t give him anything more!!!!” with a small kitten paw scribbled hastily in a corner of the tiny sheet of paper.
Sometimes it would be him reminding her to “keep yourself hydrated!” with a cheesy anecdote scribbled on a blue sticky note pasted on the door of her bedroom or a cute apology for disrupting her sleep previous night because of his obnoxious habit of staying up late to study. 
Other times he would try to sneak in a couple of knock-knock jokes of his own when he finds himself in a cheery mood and, when she doesn’t find any random notes littered around the flat, it goes without saying that he isn’t feeling particularly bright that day.
Over the course of time, this habit of theirs expands into more and more avenues of their lives outside of their little bubble of a home. Sometimes he would find a lime green sticky note taped on the inside of his microbiology textbook with a haphazard doodle of an ugly, slimy monster-like creature when he’d flip it open during his biology class as he would try to stifle his laughter at the sight of the poorly drawn organism. 
His comebacks to her antics would be just as funny but a little more articulated and with better drawing skills than as compared to her. It’s just fun and teasing to infuriate the other and they both know it, which makes it all the more easy to pull each other’s legs. 
One of the times Harry will never be able to forget was when he’d been on a date with a girl from his physics class and how when they’d come back to his place, he’d been utterly mortified to see a bright pink sticky note sitting proudly on the mirror of his dresser with the quote, “Don’t be silly, cover your willy!!! ;)”  
It was a good thing that his date took it all sportily and even teased him about his bright red cheeks because he was almost ready to knock on his roommate’s door and ask her about her not so funny little joke but then he’d realised how she’d mentioned to him last night that she’d be staying at one of her classmate’s place for the night to give him a little ounce of privacy. He’d instantly regretted the anger that spiked inside him, given that she’d readily agreed to compromise her night for his convenience and here he was- twisting himself over a simple joke.  
She chuckles quietly at the memory, spitting out the toothpaste into the sink and rinsing her mouth with some water. After placing her toothbrush back into the stand beside his, she wanders back into the kitchen to grab her coffee. She thinks about making some scrambled eggs for breakfast, since she usually runs low on time because of college she figures it would be a refreshing change for both of them after having to eat cereal and milk for the entire week. A chilly Saturday morning definitely calls for a warm, hearty breakfast and she’s going to make the best use of the extra time she’s been gifted. Harry is a huge fan of the scrambled eggs she makes, so he’ll only be thrilled to find a plate of them served hot and fresh for him.
Harry.
A heavy ball of nerves drops into her stomach at the thought of him. Now that she’s a bit more awake and sleep isn’t clouding all of her thoughts, her mind goes back to what happened a few days ago. She can clearly see the scene unfold in front of her eyes as if it were yesterday. Well, technically it happened a day before yesterday so it’s still relatively fresh in her memory but the thought alone gives her the kind of butterflies she cannot easily stifle. And that is what makes it all the more scary.
******
22:41, the clock in the living room read. It was almost 11 and Harry wasn’t home yet. It was unusual for him to crash into parties in the middle of the week but finals were approaching closer and closer by the day and with his hours in the laboratory increasing everyday, she’d figured he took this as an opportunity to unwind all of the stress he’s been going through. 
She sighed, putting away the clean dishes before glancing sadly towards the leftovers sitting on the counter. She isn’t mad at him, only disappointed about the fact that he didn’t inform her that he wouldn’t be home for dinner. She shouldn’t be so butthurt over something as trivial as this, she tells herself. 
But it’s their thing. It’s been an unwritten rule for the both of them that no matter how busy they were, they’d find some time out of their day for a shared dinner. And if one of them wouldn’t be able to make it, they’d at least let the other know. But it seems that Harry completely forgot about their promise- if her unanswered text messages say anything. She figures it’s probably best not to dwell upon it any longer and goes back to cleaning up the last bits in the kitchen before heading to bed.
00:32
Harry stumbles in through the door, his head spinning with the amount of drinks he’s had. He tries to be as quiet as possible, hoping his best that his loud actions wouldn’t wake up his roommate if she’s fast asleep in bed. After taking off his shoes and placing them in the corner of the living room, he heads towards the kitchen to grab some water and a snack to quell the rumbling in his stomach. His feet tumble upon something and he almost screams in terror but a sad little ‘meow’ deflates all his fears. He blinks a couple of times, trying to clear his hazy vision until he sees his black and grey furred cat looking up at him with his head tilted to the side adorably.
“You scared me.” Harry gushes breathily. He coos at Shiro before picking him up and scratching between his ears lovingly. The fluffy cat purrs in delight, blinking his large brown eyes at his human sleepily. 
“Why are you still awake, hm? Are you hungry too?” he mumbles. When he turns around to place Shiro on the kitchen counter, his eyes catch the neon yellow sticky note sitting on the fridge. 
“Your dinner’s in the microwave, just heat it up if you’re hungry. Gn :)” 
He smiles instantly, eyes moving towards the microwave. He turns it on hastily, too hungry and far too drunk to care about being subtle.
A loud noise from the living room grabs her attention away from the document opened in front of her on the laptop. He’s home. 
She closes her laptop and stands up straight to stretch her achy limbs. She notices that Shiro is missing. That’s odd because he usually only sleeps in her room no matter how much Harry tries to pursue him. She opens the door of her bedroom, leaning against the door to look at the sight in front of her.
Harry is slumped on the living room couch, Shiro snuggled beside him; probably asleep because his tail isn’t moving at all but she can’t quite figure it out in the dim lighting. 
“Harry?” a small voice comes from behind him, causing his head to turn towards the source of the voice. She stands leaning against her door, dressed in space cat themed pajamas, hair ruffled and cascading down her shoulders. He smiles around a mouthful of rice and curry, swallowing quickly to speak as she pushes herself off the doorframe and moves towards him.
She sits beside Shiro, who is definitely fast asleep now that she’s taking a closer look at him with Harry on the other side of him. She smiles back,
“How was the party?” 
He gulps quickly, “It was good. Sorry for being so late, I lost track of time” he mumbles sheepishly. 
She spots a faint lipstick mark on the corner of his chin but decides not to bring it up in case he doesn’t feel comfortable to talk about it with her. She knows he’ll tell her if he wants to. 
“It’s okay, you should’ve texted me you were going to be late. I was waiting for you…” she mumbles back, averting her gaze towards the Shiro, combing her fingers through his soft fur. A moment of silence floats between the two and she tries her best not to show how upset she is. He sets the empty plate onto the coffee table, she feels a little better at the thought that he would be going to bed with a full stomach. 
Harry clears his throat, clearly aware of the awkward tension flowing between them. He moves so that he’s facing her and that’s when she notices his tired, bloodshot eyes. He’s drunk, very much so and it’s clearly visible with the way his body moves and the syllables coming out of his mouth blur together. 
He stares at her intently, brows furrowed together like he’s trying to focus too hard. She feels weird under his gaze, offering him a tight smile to ease the nerves she’s feeling suddenly. An awkward pause of two seconds passes and he moves suddenly to wrap his arms around her shoulders, startling her. He buries his nose in her neck and a cold shiver runs down her body at the movement, it tickles her a lot but she’s too busy thinking about how he’d be basically on top of her if it weren’t for Shiro sleeping soundly between their bodies. She’s unsure about whether she likes the idea or not because the way everything is happening so suddenly, she’s left wide-eyed and confused all along. She cannot see it but his eyes are shut tightly and he’s breathing heavy, as if trying to grasp the scent of her shampoo.
She places her arms on his back, rubbing them over his back to comfort him. He pulls away from her but not completely, just close enough that she can feel his liquor-mixed breath on her face. His eyes drift down to her lips from where they were staring into her own, resting there for a couple of heartbeats as if he’s contemplating whether or not to do it. He can tell she’s contemplating it too, because if it weren’t so she would’ve pulled away from him eons ago. A moment passes when she feels him inch closer to her again, as if it were possible for him to be closer to her than he already is. She thinks he’s going to kiss her, he thinks so too and he does but it’s a gentle peck on her right cheek. It’s so subtle she almost doesn’t feel it but at the same time she feels it searing across her skin, burning where his lips were touching her skin just a few moments ago. He stays still, lips ghosting over her cheek and then sighs before kissing her once again, only this time it’s a little firm than the previous and pulls away from her, standing up with his plate in his hand and moving towards the kitchen to dispose it off. 
She could’ve gone to bed that night, dismissing the incident as one of his drunken rendezvous, that it was the alcohol that had muddled his brain so badly he almost kissed his roommate. She could’ve ignored it all and blamed it on the liquor coursing through his body. She could’ve, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t because there’s one thing that doesn’t allow her to dismiss this particular event and keeps her up all night, frying her brain to the point she cannot think straight. It’s that one thing her brain keeps on replaying all night, robbing her of her precious sleep. There’s one image that plays in her mind- Harry’s face just after he’s kissed her, looking at her through his eyelashes. He looks drunk but not quite as much as he was a few minutes before. He’s awake, no more sleepy like he was previously, well aware of the way she reacts to every move he makes, gauging her to see if she seems uncomfortable with anything and something about his movements tell her he’s not as far gone as she thinks him to be. When he steps away from her, he has the gentlest of smirks gracing his face and it’s the only thing that she requires to know that this isn’t the alcohol that made him so brave.
****
The chime of the doorbell pulls her out of her thoughts and she’s harshly brought back into reality- where Harry is standing on the other side of the door, waiting for her to let him in, literally. Even though she’d done a fantastic job of staying away from him for the past few days, she’s aware she cannot do that today, not now at least. Pushing all her nerves aside, she switches off the stove and pads through the living room to open the door. 
He steps inside quickly, shutting the door behind him. The cool gust of wind from outside dissipates instantly in the warm interiors of the house as Harry follows her into the kitchen quietly. 
“Did you get the milk?” she asks, cracking an egg into the hot pan. It sizzles over the thin sheath of oil and she’s quick to stir it furiously before the protein cooks and solidifies.
“Uh- yeah, yeah I did. It’s fresh stock too”, he smiles, placing the cold carton beside her on the counter. 
“Good. I’m making us scrambled eggs, I hope you’re not too full.” she asks, sparing a glance at him.
He stands beside her, eyes fixed on the pan as she dumps some chopped vegetables into it. 
“I’d love that.” She nods at him, fixing two plates for them.
The pair of them grabbed their plates, shifting towards the living room. Harry switches on the TV, hoping that it would ease the tension at least to a certain degree. As they settle on the couch together, both of them are painfully aware of the way they chose to sit far away from each other. Time drags like it’s been slowed down as the tension between them becomes more and more apparent. It is only a waiting game until one of them takes up the courage to address the elephant in the room. But none of them are quite ready to talk about it- Harry, in fear of getting rejected and his roommate, in fear of having to finally acknowledge her feelings. 
They’re both well alert about the other’s actions and that’s why Harry feels a spark of panic rise in his chest when she stands up and settles close to him, their knees knocking together. He sits with bated breath, waiting for her to make the next move. But she doesn’t. Instead, she shuffles towards him, coiling her arm around his and laying her head gently on his shoulder. Her lips are pursed together tightly and there’s a small smile playing on her lips between the spoonfuls of breakfast she pushes into her mouth. Harry stays frozen, not daring to move another inch in a fear that she might move away from him. After a good couple of seconds, he realises what she’s hinting at. His heart somersaults in his chest at the thought of any further advancements and he thinks he’s going to pass out if he ponders over  it too much so he refrains himself from thinking about what’s next, tipping his head gently to lay it on top of her, mushing his cheek into her hair and indulging himself into the sweet scent of her shampoo as they sit together in the living room together, busying themselves with the television playing in front of them.
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vannahfanfics · 3 years
Text
Distance
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Category: Romantic Fluff
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Characters: Sora, Kairi
Additional Tags: Modern AU, College AU
Hey, hey, everyone! Here’s another story for @sokaiweek​, this time for the prompt “Distance”! I hope you enjoy what I’ve thought up for today! <3
Kairi tapped her pencil incessantly against her desk, and her blue eyes constantly flicked to the clock on the wall, where the minute hand inched towards five p.m.: the end of her final class for the day. Normally, Kairi tried to pay attention in class— especially because Naminé grew bored within the first ten minutes and began doodling, so Kairi always had to provide her notes— but she was in no mood for college algebra today. As soon as the clock struck five, she would hightail it out of this building like Cinderella fleeing the ball, except Kairi wasn’t running from her suitor. 
She was running towards him. 
Her boyfriend, Sora, attended a university many hours away from hers. Under normal circumstances, they were good students and were diligent with their studies. Though this afforded them good grades, this also meant that their time to spend together was minimal. They’d scheduled a Skype call today, and it would be the first time they’d spoken in nearly two weeks— which was why Kairi had practically snapped her pencil banging it against the desk with impatience. 
Finally, the clock struck five, and before the professor could even finish his announcements about some quiz next week, Kairi was tearing out the door. Her bag slapped against her thigh as she full-on sprinted towards her dorm, earning a few confused looks from the people walking at a more leisurely pace. In record time, she was throwing open her door (surprising her roommate, Selphie), wrenching her laptop out of her bag, and belly-flopping onto her bed. 
As Kairi frantically typed in her password, Selphie turned in her computer chair to laugh at her. 
“Calling Sora tonight?” 
“Yes,” Kairi said, now waiting with bated breath for the call notification. She was hunched over the screen like a hungry fox, her hands laced over her lips and muffling her words. She looked over when Selphie rose from her chair and began gathering her things. “Oh, you don’t have to leave! I can go somewhere!” 
“No, it’s okay. I have a study group in an hour, so I’ll just head off to the library early and start preparing. You kids have fun,” she teased with a wink, and then she was strutting out of the door. Kairi smiled at her friend’s consideration, but she then jumped violently when her laptop suddenly began to ring with the notification. She screamed as her laptop slipped off her comforter, and in her scramble to grab it before it hit the floor, she accidentally answered it. Therefore, Sora got a very flattering view up her nose while she hauled it up. He was laughing while she was setting it on her lap and trying not to look panicked, but her flushed face and disarrayed hair wasn’t helping. 
“Drop your laptop?” he guessed, and she could only smile sheepishly. “You’re so cute,” he said while laughing again, and Kairi felt her heart flutter. She settled herself back against her pillows, and when she looked to the screen again, she realized that Sora was moving. 
“Ah, are you calling from your phone?” 
“Yep, I’m on a walk. It’s a nice evening,” he said, turning the phone around to show her the beautiful sunset, dying the sky a russet red-gold. It shone above the tall skyline, where skyscrapers were dotted with white squares of light. When he turned it back to his face, he smiled brightly and ran his fingers through his spikes of brown hair. “How was class today?” 
“I don’t know. To be honest, I was too busy being excited,” she admitted with a cute, bashful smile. Sora’s face broke into a huge grin, and his cheeks turned pink with delight. 
“You wanna know a secret? Me too,” he said, and Kairi giggled girlishly. “Riku was doggin’ on me all day, callin’ me a sap,” he pouted, and Kairi crooned sympathetically. “I can’t help it! It ain’t like I get to see ya as much as I want to.” 
“I know.” Long-distance relationships sure had their challenges. She loved that Sora was attending a good university and pursuing a good career, but that didn’t make her feel any less lonely sometimes. She’d lie awake at night craving his touch and warmth. She’d daydream in class about their old dates, the way his hand fit so perfectly in hers and the sweetness of his kisses. They’d been at this for nearly a year already; Kairi didn’t know if she could survive the rest of university like this. 
Her sadness must have shown on her face, because when she looked back to her laptop screen, Sora was smiling understandingly. 
“I know it’s hard, Kairi. I appreciate you sticking it out for me,” he said, and she wanted to cry at the sheer amount of gratitude he was expressing. “I couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend.” 
“And I couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend,” she countered shyly, grabbing her ankles and leaning back into the pillows while she balanced the laptop on her crossed legs. Sora chuckled at this, quickly texting someone on his phone before turning his attention back to her. 
“Eh, I am pretty great,” he joked, and Kairi batted the laptop screen, though she would’ve much rather slapped him on the shoulder. Sora tipped back his head in laughter, his rosy face illuminated briefly by the passing light from a streetlamp. Yeah, you are pretty great, Kairi thought affectionately, roped in by the pure infectiousness of Sora’s laugh. Her endearment rapidly turned into a cold pang of sadness, and she pushed back into her pillows, trying to draw comfort from their soft embrace. It only worked a little. 
“I really miss you,” she moped, and Sora gave her a sympathetic look. 
“I know. I miss you too, Kairi, every minute of every day.” Ugh, how could she be sad when he dropped romantic one-liners like that? One second she was sulking, the next her heart was pounding because her boyfriend was so goddamn smooth. It was an exhausting back-and-forth, but she wouldn’t give it up for the world. He smiled into the camera at her, and she couldn’t help but give him a teensy smile in return. “Don’t worry. We’ll be able to see each other in person soon. Just hang on a little longer, okay?” 
“Okay…” she relented, but jutted her lips out in a pout in the hopes it would speed up the process. Sora just gave her a little smirk. Ugh, he looked so handsome when he did that. She squirmed as her heart fluttered against her chest like a bird trying its best to escape her ribcage. 
Sora was suddenly enveloped in light, as he was walking into a building. He lowered the phone to talk in a low voice to someone, and for a few seconds, all Kairi could see was the fabric of his cargo shorts. After finishing his brief conversation and walking a few paces down the hall, he lifted the phone back up to smile apologetically. 
“Sorry.” 
“Checking into the dorm?” 
“Yeah, but… Not my dorm,” he said, his expression morphing into an absolutely diabolical grin. Kairi just gaped at him, absolutely unable to compute. Not his dorm? Then who’s dorm was it? Riku, Ventus, and Vanitas all lived in the same dorm as him, so who else could he possibly be visiting? He was snickering at her while she struggled to process his cryptic statement; in her camera, she could see the absolutely stupefied expression she was making, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. She couldn’t help it! She was absolutely, completely bewildered!
“You still haven’t figured it out?” he laughed as he stopped in front of a door, and Kairi just shook her head wildly in exasperation. Sora laughed again; then, with a meaningful raise of his eyebrows, he knocked on the door behind him. 
Kairi literally screamed when she heard that tap-tap-tap echo through her dorm room. She didn’t even bother to shut her laptop, instead shoving it to the side and springing from her bed. Sora’s laughter bounced around the room as she raced across, but her bare feet caught on the area rug, causing her to slip. She just barely caught herself on the doorknob, and like a cartoon character, her feet scrabbled uselessly over the fabric until she bunched it up to hit the tile underneath. Once the rest of her body had caught up with her, she wrenched the door open to find Sora waiting, his arms spread wide and grin absolutely blinding. 
“Sora!” she squealed, and Sora leat out an oomph! when she jumped at him. She clamped her legs around his middle and her arms around his neck, smothering his face with kisses, while Sora grabbed her hips and spun on his heel to keep his balance. He could barely get a word out between her onslaught of smooches, especially because he was too busy laughing. He carried Kairi back into her room and kicked the door shut behind them so they stopped bothering her dorm neighbors, and finally, Kairi stopped kissing him to grab his face and give it a squish. 
“Is this real? Are you really here?” 
“Well, I sure hope so,” Sora chuckled with a look down at himself, then back up at her. “It’d be pretty hard to explain if I wasn’t.”
“How did you even get in here?” 
“Selphie let me in.” 
“That—!” she gasped, but Sora shushed her by sweeping her up in a kiss of his own. Kairi hummed into the meeting of their lips, the closing of the distance that had pained her for so long. He kissed her again and again and again until they were running out of air, but he kept kissing her until the absolute last moment, and they broke apart panting and red-faced. Kairi caressed his cheeks lovingly, eyes sweeping up and down his face like she wanted to commit it to memory. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, the realization suddenly hitting her and making her choke up. 
“Aw, Kairi,” Sora cooed as she latched onto him, burying her face into his neck while she cried. He rubbed her back soothingly, leaning his head against hers. “A good surprise?” 
“Mhmm,” she mumbled pathetically into his skin, smearing tears all over it while she nuzzled in as deep as she could go. She breathed in deep to get that lovely scent of his, salt and ocean water and coconut. As it flooded her nose, calm flooded her too, and the tears dried as soon as they had come. She relaxed in his embrace, tired from all the sudden emotion. Sora pressed a few kisses into her hair while he carried her to her bed, and then he just unceremoniously threw her on it. Kairi squealed as she bounced on the mattress, but it was swallowed up by Sora crawling on top of her to kiss her again oh-so-sweetly. 
“I love you,” he smiled once he’d had his fill of her kiss-swollen lips, leaning his forehead against hers. “So much it hurts sometimes.” There he went again with those damn one-liners. How was a girl supposed to deal with her heart nearly bursting out of her chest?
“I love you too,” she said. Though it felt like a lame reply in comparison, it was how she felt. Sora liked it well enough; he snuggled down into her, covering her in every inch of his warmth, and Sora responded in kind by wrapping him up like a koala hugging its tree. His hands massaged the flesh of her waist and hips in mindless, tender touches. 
“Riku’s right,” he smirked suddenly. “I am kind of a sap.” 
“Hehe, but you’re my sap,” she hummed, and Sora buried his face into her hair so deeply that she could feel his smile against his scalp. 
“I can live with that.” 
Kairi knew that he’d have to leave again soon, but she didn’t want to think about that. All she wanted to think about right now was him, his touch, his warmth, his love— the closure of the distance between them, if only for a moment.
Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!
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1-800-roflmao · 3 years
Text
Wash Day Delight Pt. 4
Rating:  General Audiences
WARNINGS:  None
Fandom:  Undertale (Video Game)
Relationships:  Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Papyrus (Undertale) & Reader,  Papyrus (Underfell) & Reader, Papyrus (FSG) & Reader, Papyrus (Swapfell) & Reader
Characters:  Papyrus (Undertale), Reader, Edge (UF Pap), and Mentions of Other AU Skeletons
Additional Tags:  Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), reader is poc, Reader has curly hair,  Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Friendship, Wholesome, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, I'm Bad At Summaries, Not Beta Read, Romance if you squint, Subtext, Let Papyrus be Sassy, Edge Is The Unwilling Dad Friend, Idiots in Love, Fluff and Humor, Slice of Life, Teasing Edge Is Fun, Papy is Best Boi
*Split this chapter into two. Will be posting both today. Morning thoughts and Papy has a great idea! Tried avoiding using y/n as much as I could, but had to this chapter.
PREVIOUS || FIRST || NEXT
She would say morning came too quickly, but in all honesty, this was technically her second time waking up that morning.  Somehow, in spite of the tireless workout she had been put through the night before, she had woken up at the usual time right before her alarm--that was NOT set cause she turned that off with plans to sleep in today--would have gone off.  She’d spared a single, groggy glance at her phone’s clock.  The notifications lining the screen not even registering in her mind.  No, she’d get her well earned sleep in had been and without further adieu, she had put the phone back down, rolled over, and snuggled back in for another few hours of sleep.  
    That had been earlier.  Now, she blinked awake as light from the mid-morning sun sneaked through the slim openings of the curtains just behind her bed.  Blearily, her eyes followed the rays path across her form, her bed, and eventually over the floor where it seemed to highlight her shed clothes along with the open bathroom.  Right… she had forgotten to brush her teeth in her haste to sleep.  Rolling her tongue and opening and closing her mouth, she winced as she felt her cheek move against the now very cold wet spot on her pillow.  Well, at least that second round of sleep was apparently heavy and content.  
“Eugth…” Not that it made waking up in your drool anymore pleasant.  Trying to sit up resulted in even more groans as her muscles protested.  Yup, there were those core muscles that had been oddly silent yesterday acting up today.  Her arm she had tried to push up on had not been too much trouble, but her shoulder had twinged and she had gone back down.  She had managed to at least roll on her back and away from the drool pool though.  Positives.  Focus on the positives.  For a few moments, she just let herself completely relax into the mattress and pillows, just breathing--in and out, slow and even, again and again until all her tension dispersed. 
“They really did me in,” she mumbled as she began to roll her wrists, “But I’ve got too much to get done to be lyin’ around here all day feelin’ miserable.”  Too much considering her now very awake mind realized she had forgotten to wrap her hair, but thankfully she had splurged on satin sheets and pillowcases, so it shouldn’t be too bad.  Maybe it was a blessing in disguise, she didn’t get her wrap sweaty… “Still gonna wash it.”  By now, she had started stretching and working her shoulders with careful, slow rolls and reaches.  The more she moves, the more she’ll loosen up and actually be able to function.  She just couldn’t overdue it.
As she moved onto her legs, she couldn’t stifle a little moan of discomfort as she lifted one limb at time to carefully draw her knee in towards her stomach before extending again.  It took time, but eventually she was able to push herself up into a sitting position.  Muscles in her back, abdomen, and surprising what felt like her butt that she hadn’t been aware of protested, but a few more deep breathes calmed them.  Seeing her phone laying on the sheets near her, she guessed earlier that morning she hadn’t bothered to put the phone back where it went exactly, but current her was very thankful for her sleepy self’s carelessness.
Picking up the device, she decided to take a moment to rest before continuing her war against her body.  Besides, she could remember that she had messages to reply to.  Tapping the screen, she input her pattern and tapped on the messages app.  The first one she opened was Coffee’s.  “Oooh,” she cooed as she looked over the drawing once again with fresh eyes.  Last night, she remembered thinking the hairstyle was cute, but now she could see the little details he included, like his choice of including a custom undercut design.  Could her barber achieve that?  She’d have to ask, but for now.
(to JavaBoi)
Flooffie:  Good morning! 
Flooffie:  Sorry about not replying last night
Flooffie:  This hairstyle is so cute
Flooffie:  And the undercut design is SICK!
Flooffie:  In a good way 
Flooffie:  I’d love to wear it, but I’ll have to check in with my barber about the undercut.
She waited a moment to see if he’d answer, but no little dots popped up so she guessed he was possibly still sleeping or he was busy.  Most likely the former.  Leaving that conversation, she sent a quick message to her barber asking how complicated a design he would be willing to do on an undercut.  She hadn’t expected an answer, but no sooner had she went to click the back button, his answer popped up.  His answer surmised that he had done more complicated pieces, but it all depends on the design.  “Makes sense…” she mumbled before forwarding the doodle to him.   It took him a moment longer to reply this time, but his answer had her beaming: “Sure, just get a better reference.  Bigger too.” 
(to JavaBoi)
Flooffie:  I feel like I’m spamming you.  Sorry!
Flooffie: But I got with my barber and he said he could do it
Flooffie:  Just he needs a better ref
Flooffie:  Could you draw it bigger?  
Flooffie:  I’ll treat you!
        She included some pleading and heart emojis for good measure, even though she was sure he wouldn’t mind one bit.  Moving on, she opened up a certain someone’s convo, eager to see how he reacted to her last text.  A little laugh bubbled past her smile as she saw his reply, full of exclamation marks and a little pause between two of the replies.
(11:33 PM) Papaya:  ….
(11:40 PM) Papaya:  !!!!!!!
Papaya:  TOUCHE! ALTHOUGH I HAD TO GOOGLE WHAT YOU HAD MEANT
Papaya:  MY SKILLS AT PICKING UP THESE IDIOMS IS IMPROVING
Papaya:  WHO CAME UP WITH THESE THINGS?  WHY? WHY NOT JUST SAY WHAT YOU MEAN?!
(11:45 PM) Papaya:  YOUR LACK OF RESPONSE MUST MEAN YOU HAVE FINALLY GONE TO  BED
Papaya:  GOOD
(12:01 AM) Papaya:  SWEET DREAMS, (Y/N)
    Her amusement at how Papyrus could continue a conversation with no one there was overshadowed by the warmth the last text brought.  It was such a simple little thing.  It’s not like he had even called her a pet name, but it still had her flushing and turning her face away from the phone like that would somehow ease the heat.  Maybe it was because she could see the timestamp and knew he had taken the time to pick up the phone again after setting it down for a while just to send that message.  Was it narcissistic to think she was his last thought before he fell asleep?  “It’s too early to be this flustered!” she whined, the fingers of her free hand playing with ends of one of her braids, “All over a text that might not have any deeper meaning…”     
    After her little grumble, she did her best to ignore the sting the words brought.  One more deep breath, she turned back to her phone and the texts, allowing a small smile.  There was no sense in making herself miserable.  It was still a dear friend thinking of her after all.  
    (to Papaya)
Flooffie:  Morning Papi!  Hope you had sweet dreams as well
        Before she could start her next message, she saw those little dots pop up and chuckled.  Of Course he was up already.  
Papaya:   GOOD MORNING!
Papaya:   I DO NOT REMEMBER MY DREAMS, BUT I’M SURE THEY WERE GREAT!
Flooffie:  Just like you, eh?
Papaya:   OFCOURSE!
Papaya:   UM… HOW ARE YOU FEELING THIS MORNING?
Papaya:   NOT TOO SORE I HOPE
    She snorted at that before replying.
Floofie:   Like I got hit by a 18 wheeler in the fast lane and somehow survived to regret it.
Papaya:   ….
Papaya:   APOLOGIES
Papaya:   BUT ARE YOU COMPARING YOUR PAIN TO GETTING HIT BY A SEMI?!
        She could just feel his panic and knew he would start fretting through the text.  She felt just a little guilty laughing at his reaction.  Thankfully, it wasn’t too difficult to calm him down and assure him she was simply exaggerating.  No, he didn’t need to take her to the hospital.  No, he had not broken her.  At Least as far as she knew he hadn’t.  
Throughout, she had slowly worked her way to the edge of the bed and now sat with her legs hanging off.  In between texts with Papyrus, he opened a few of the others.  One was Edge checking in with a reminder that she shouldn’t over exert herself.  She went to send a little thumbs up, but paused and instead juggled between two responses.  Which would mess with him more?  Biting her bottom lip, she finally settled on one and quickly sent it:  “Yes, Daddy~”.  Knowing Edge, he was up, but wouldn’t look at the message until he had a moment, so she closed the convo.  She could see the damage later.
More puns and jokes which she graced with appropriate responses: groans at the especially bad ones and chuckles at the ones that were actually clever.  She of course made her approval known with quick little texts and gifs; the bad ones received the same treatment.  None of it was mean and to tell the truth, it only fanned the flames for these gremlins as she had learned.  They seemed determined to dig up the worst puns they could manage.  By the time, she finished replying, she had made it to the bathroom and was finally taking care of her dental hygiene.  
Her phone now dinged instead of buzzing with each new text.  Most of which were from Papyrus she assumed.  Toothbrush in her mouth, she picked up her phone and opened the texting app again as she resumed brushing with her other hand.  She had been correct.  A line of texts from her friend popped up on the screen and they ranged from bringing up his question about idioms from last night to checking in that she was actually taking the time to rest.  She thanked the stars that her phone wasn’t on the larger side as it allowed her to hold and type with one hand.  
Flooffie:  Decided to make today wash day since people are INSISTING I rest.  Was due for one anyway.
Papaya:   WASH DAY?  YOU HAVE A DAY DEDICATED TO WASHING?
Papaya:   I THOUGHT HUMANS PRUNE IF THEY ARE IN WATER TOO LONG?
She let him get out all his ponderings and ramblings, which took a good minute, before she finally jumped in.  Although she’d love to convince him it was a secret, sacred holiday and ritual that humans have to partake in a few days a year for… reasons, she fought down her inner prankster and cursed Cash for his influence on her.  
Flooffie:  It’s nothing elaborate… kinda?
Flooffie:  It’s just that people like me tend to have a lot of hair and it takes time to properly care for it.
Flooffie:  So, we make a day of it.  Chill and relax, pamper ourselves, etc
She was a bit surprised he hadn’t replied immediately and had actually finished with her dental routine by the time he finally texted back.  
Papaya:  SO IT IS A DAY DEDICATED TO YOUR HAIR?!
Oh, she hadn’t seen this much enthusiasm from him for her hair in a good bit.  As his texts came through, she felt touched he wanted to learn more and she was happy to inform him, best she could over text anyway.  There was another long pause in between his text.  Just long enough for her to reach for her shower handle as she decided to finally take a shower and get started on her day.  Her phone dinged and Papyrus changed all her plans.
Papaya:  WHY DON’T YOU HAVE YOUR WASH DAY AT OUR HOUSE?!!
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lucky-bucky-boy · 4 years
Text
Muse
Pairing: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary: Steve’s little art hobby wasn’t necessarily a secret, but how good he was at it? That part was.
Word Count: 1552
Warnings: Fluff, eluded angst and insecurity from Steve
A/N: This is for a writing challenge by @jbbuckybarnes​. I truly tried my best to make this my absolute most inclusive piece of writing, so if you have any constructive criticism on how I can do that better please message me.
I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs welcome and highly appreciated. 
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Bright sunlight pranced throughout the small Brooklyn apartment, flittering and flickering through the air. A few tea light candles were strewn around on flat surfaces, emanating a soft vanilla scent that enhanced the sweetness that lingered from the nights dessert, a rare thing but a necessity with what was bound to happen in the next few weeks. Soft blankets and a peaceful quiet, comfortable silence that only made the warmth of the moment stronger. 
Your eyes flickered from the book in your hand to your sweet boyfriend sitting opposite of the room in his favorite chair. A colorful pallete and a dirty cup of water sat on the table next to him, his hand moving in thoughtful flicks as his teeth nibbled at his lip in concentration. A few pieces of his blonde hair had fallen into his face, occasionally shaking his head to move it from his view and causing a smile to spread across your lips.
Steve has always painted. A fun little hobby to fill the time. Sometimes it'd just be a drawing, a simple sketch with charcoal. But lately, since meeting Dr.Eskrine late last week he's been specifically painting more and more. The colors on his pallete have even become brighter and move varied, but he never showed you the pictures. You assumed they were just personal little doodles, nothing big and extravagant, maybe something that would be somehow embarrassing for him. 
However, you did know why he had been painting more. Steve had been recruited, kind of. He'd be the subject of an experiment called Project Rebirth. Neither of you knew too much about it, but you did know that within the next week or to Steve would be receiving his letter for him to be wisped away. 
At first, Steve was excited. He finally had managed to find a way to get what he wanted, a way to serve his country. And you were excited for him as well, how couldn't you be? His blue eyes lit up so bright when he told you, so excited and talking so fast he was practically reminiscent of a puppy. He nearly gave himself an asthma attack with how much energy was coursing through him. 
But the reality quickly set in for the both of you. He'd be leaving. Your Stevie, your perfect gentleman of a boyfriend, your number one supporter would have to leave you, and there was a good chance he may not come home. You two cried that night, a whirlwind of emotions laying catastrophy to your bliss, and vowed that every moment between then and him leaving would be the most special time you could imagine. 
Some would argue that there wasn't anything special about this; About sitting feet apart, in the most peaceful quiet only slightly disturbed by the sounds of people going home after a long days work outside, doing your own thing. But you couldn't have this with anyone else, this comfort and feeling of home was something you never felt until Steve. Everyone was shocked when the two of you moved in together, but you hadn't wanted to let this feeling slip through your fingers, and you were even more grateful now that you had made the decision to do so. 
Without thinking much of it, you sat your book down and stood up, moving to Steve. After pressing a kiss to his forehead you grabbed the dirty cup of water and moved to the kitchen just feet away to refresh it for him. 
You felt his gaze follow you, as it always did when you moved about. He tried not to admit it but he was truly shocked as to how he got so lucky to be with you. Someone so caring, driven, and open minded. Someone who's inner beauty matched their appearance, who was definitely way out of his league in his opinion and didn't have a care in the world for how small he was. A girl who was almost too ambitious and too determined for her own good. You inspired him, way more than you knew at this point. 
"Whatcha painting, dear?" Your voice cut through his thoughts as you came back with the fresh water, only trying to peak at the pad of paint paper a little. 
The flush that covered his skin was far too obvious for him to play off, and he tripped over his words as he talked, "it's uh, nothing - really - I mean it's not nothing but-"
The light laugh that fell from your lips caused him to blush even darker. Steve watched as you leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before kneeling beside him. The look you gave him was too pure and sweet and he knew he wouldn't be able to resist whatever you requested of him next. 
"Can you please show me some of your paintings, Stevie? You paint so much and I feel like this is a piece of you I don't know much about." The sweetness and curiosity had him cliff diving head first into falling in love with you all over again. 
"Uh, s-sure." Steve did well of hiding the one he had been working on, sitting it aside and out of view as he flipped through a few pages of his painting paper and showed you a picture he painted of a garden. 
Your breath was practically stolen as your gaze danced across the intricate detail of the picture he was showing you. Variants of almost every shade in the rainbow were whisped across the paper, creating a beautiful scene of blooming flowers and bushes, caged in by a white picket. 
"You can paint? Like, really paint?" The statement came as more of a question, almost in disbelief with what you were seeing. You had sworn painting was just a pass-time type of hobbie for Steve, but you were wrong, way wrong. It wasn't a hobbie, it was a talent. 
"A little bit, yeah, I guess," he mumbled, bashful and still not use to any type of praise. "I had- I had painted that one night after we had talked about buying a house one day. You said you wanted a little cottage with a white picket fence and a huge garden. I figured, if I couldn't give the real thing to you, I could at least paint you something close to it."
Your heart practically broke and swelled all at once. The sincerity of this man never ceased to baffle you. "Stevie! You call this a little bit?" You exclaimed. "This is beautiful. Can you show me another?"
He smiled, shy but hopeful and nodded. Steve moved down to sit on the floor with you, pulling a few of the papers out to lay across the floor, all different scenes of things you had talked about wanting to do together. A little bakery, a blue cottage, a cabin and lake. Your eyes scanned across every one, seeing every little detail and color, feeling like you were seeing a scene out of a movie, feeling like you could have actually been there. 
"Steve, love, these are amazing," you breathed out, voice soft and quiet. 
"I painted them for you," he admitted, voice just as hushed. He avoided looking at you, but you couldn't help but look at him after that admittance. "When I found out about getting recruited I starting painting everything we ever wanted to do together so you could hang them up or keep them to remember me, so you wouldn't forget me."
"Forget you?" The little pang of hurt was evident in your voice. "Stevie," you leaned over, cupping his face with your hand and making him look at you. A quiet exchange of sad smiles before you pressed a kiss to his lips, a promise, "I'll never forget you. I love you."
Steve smiled a little more brightly. "I love you too, doll."
"But," you voice had a tease, trying to keep the mood light and happy. It wasn't time for tears, not yet. You wanted as many happy moments with him as possible before he left, "you have to promise not to forget me."
Steve chuckled softly, shaking his head, "I couldn't if I tried."
And little did you know, the painting he set aside was his way of making sure he didn't forget you. That he wouldn't forget the way your hair sat against your skin, or the bridge of your nose, or any freckle and smile line. The warmth that emanated from you or the curve of your lips in a resting smile.
No picture could do any of that, any piece of you justice. So, Steve didn't rely on a picture, instead he just painted his favorite muse. After a moment of hesitation he moved to grab it. It wasn't quite finished, but almost there and done enough to show you. 
"I painted those for you, but I'm painting this one for me, to keep with me while I'm away."
Steve sat back down, showing you the all too realistic portrait of you reading a book, in the position you'd taken comfort in over the last week. Your breath had truly caught in your throat this time, times welling as emotions bubble in you. "See, doll, I can't forget something I've painted."
Tags: @lokilvrr​ @hurricanerin​ @kcd15​
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comradekatara · 4 years
Note
Do you have any modern Zukka headcannons? Thanks for your hot awesome takes all the time
i’ve gone over some of these points before, so some of y’all may recognize the continuity of the atlahsaucu (atla highschool au cinematic universe). this is a long one, and it’s *gasps* chronological… 
they first meet in junior year art class. sokka resents how well zuko can draw and paint seemingly without any effort whatsoever, meanwhile sokka tries really hard and all his art comes out like disgusting little blobs on the canvas. zuko resents sokka for being cool and hot. how dare he. 
one day, they get a bit carried away, and sokka and suki start making out in the middle of the hallway. zuko, whose locker they are directly on top of and who has class at this very moment, is not amused, and he, politely as he can, coughs and request that they move out of the way. sokka merely holds up a finger as to say “one moment please” which enrages zuko (justly, tbh) and he yells, “what the fuck?!” 
sokka’s like “man what’s your fucking problem why are you such an asshole and so good at art” and zuko’s just like “????” and “what in gods name are you talking about????” and the yelling causes a scene which lands them in detention. sokka has never gotten detention before (though he has gotten several warnings in the past, but it’s kinda hard to be mad at the guy whose girlfriend just died for being distracted in class) and he’s freaking out that this is gonna go on his record and he’ll never get into stanford or mit or princeton or– meanwhile zuko is just asleep at his desk. 
once zuko wakes up, sokka, bored out of his mind, jokingly proposes that they sneak out through the vents and make a break for it, but zuko, either not understanding that sokka is joking or not caring that sokka is joking (it’s unclear which) is like “yeah we’d just have to be quiet.” sokka, who has now decided that zuko is batshit crazy, but has also decided that he is living on the wild side, a real bad boy rebel who’ll never make ivy league because he got detention that one time, is like “yeah okay” just because he spent a lot of time entertaining this hypothetical and now he’s deathly curious to see if it’ll work. 
amazingly enough, it does. adrenaline carries them outside the building and into freedom as they run as far as their legs will carry them until sokka stops to panic that he is now a certified delinquent, and delinquents don’t get scholarships, and if he doesn’t go to a good school then he’ll never get a good job, and if he doesn’t get a good job then how is he gonna support gran gran?????? and zuko’s just like “wait, hold up.”
zuko admits that he fully thought sokka was some type of meathead jock who makes out with his girlfriend in the hallways and thinks he’s too cool for school and sokka’s like “she’s not my girlfriend and also what.” zuko is confused as to why he would make out with someone in the hallway if she wasn’t even his girlfriend. he also realizes that he doesn’t actually know his name. so sokka explains that yeah they’re in love and spend every waking moment together but no she’s not his girlfriend; he doesn’t do relationships and neither does she. and also he introduces himself. 
and it takes zuko a moment because he’s really bad with names and faces and putting faces to names and, people, in general, but then he’s like “oh my god you’re that sokka.” and sokka’s just like “yeah i’m pretty sure my name’s not that common???” but zuko is just like “i think my sister is planning to murder you someday.” and sokka just slaps his forehead. of course art class asshole is related to debate class asshole. 
only zuko’s not really an asshole he’s kinda just a weirdo. a quiet little freak who paints good. sokka can vibe with that. especially after zuko assures him that none of this will go on any sort of record whatsoever because bumi is old, and batshit, and senile, and clearly doesn’t give a fuck. sokka laughs, and this leads into them talking shit about everyone they both hate, which they realize are all the same people, somehow. seeing their own petty bitterness mirrored back at them, they realize that they’re kind of both snobs, but in a fun way. 
they walk through town until it gets dark out, and then they go their separate ways. but next monday they sit together in art class, and their teacher yells at them to stop whispering. sokka is just drawing little triangles across the page because he’s just come from trig and he’s very sleepy and doesn’t really feel like feeling inadequate right now. but zuko’s like, “what are you drawing?” and sokka looks at the page of triangles he was unconsciously doodling and scoffs and says in an affect, “can’t you tell? it’s a cubist take on degas.” and this is the funniest shit to zuko. but of course he then gets yelled at for laughing. 
they’re friends after that; they just are. sokka invites zuko to lunch with his friends, at which point zuko meets toph and suki, who are, of course, the fucking coolest. 
azula sees zuko talk to sokka or suki occasionally in the halls and demands to know what it is they’re talking about. zuko’s like “i dont….. remember?” but azula is certain that they are only friends with him as a means of getting to her, because they desire to crush her. zuko’s like “i don’t even think they know your name.” indeed, they do not. but sokka does stop calling her “debate asshole” in favor of “zuko’s sister,” so that’s something. 
the first time zuko goes to sokka’s house, it is because sokka insists on showing him both back to the future movies. (there is no third one it does not exist.) for reasons unknown to him, zuko is terrified. he wears his favorite sweater that day. it is near-identical to all his other sweaters. he doesn’t understand the first one at all. the second one he remarks “oh that was kind of like hamlet.” that makes sokka really happy. at some point zuko goes to get a glass of water and sokka yells from the couch to bring him back a popsicle from the freezer while he’s at it. zuko complies, but he takes it just before katara goes to get one. he nonchalantly tells her that it was the last one, and she makes a very big show of throwing the box out. she fumes all night that sokka let that rude little bitch into her house. sokka pays her no mind. 
mai and zuko are still together at this point, and because mai is dropping hints big enough to pierce through even zuko’s thick skull that she’s feeling left behind in favor of zuko’s new friends, he asks them if it’s cool that she join them for stuff. they’re all like “yeah of course” and mai pretends not to care. they all like mai, especially toph, but all agree that her relationship with zuko is super weird. toph and mai become super tight, and it’s clear as day to toph that mai is in love with ty lee, even if mai is not fully aware of this fact herself. suki, who has been secretly hooking up with ty lee this whole time (don’t worry, sokka knows, and he high-fives her whenever she brags about it), is just like “oh noooooo……” toph insists to mai that she dump zuko, and without mentioning ty lee once, is able to convince her of it just by reminding her that zuko is a super inattentive boyfriend and she deserves better. she does. zuko feels sort of…relieved? he doesn’t know why. he loves mai. he really does. but it’s also like a weight has been taken off his shoulders.
zuko doesn’t really know what to do about the fact that his sister is serial-killer level obsessed with sokka, other than try to ignore it. azula is always attempting to pry information out of him because they seem to be, at the very least, casual acquaintances so he must have some leverage by now, right??? she is never allowed to know that he knows where sokka lives, because he is afraid that one night sokka will simply find her hiding in the bushes with binoculars searching for any sign of academic struggle. sokka is blissfully unaware to most of these shenanigans. to him, she is like a buzzing fly occasionally hovering around his face. 
that summer, they divide their time between working on college applications and going to the park together to just sit and read. it’s literally the most fun zuko can ever remember having. 
english was always sokka’s worst subject because he is terrible at organizing his thoughts coherently and always ends up going on little tangents about the origins of butter churning or digital watches in a paper that was supposed to be about sense & sensibility, but his teachers are usually charmed enough by him that they see his essays as a fun challenge instead of a giant red X. but pakku loathes sokka. and he loathes his sister, whom he had taught the previous year. sokka complains to katara about it, and she just goes on a rant about how horrible and boring and bitter and raggedy he is. but sokka, who, unlike katara, desperately wants to be liked by everyone, feels the need to prove himself.
he goes to the best english student he knows. “hey, you’re really good at english, right?” he asks zuko, to which zuko responds, “i should hope so. it is my first language.” it is unclear whether or not zuko is being facetious or just very perplexed, but sokka laughs anyway. he pleads for zuko to “tutor him” and zuko’s like “but you have all A’s?” he agrees anyway, of course. zuko spends a lot of time on jstor, so he know how to write good. he helps sokka outline his essays in a way that works for him, but mostly it’s just an excuse for them to hang out and eat snacks. at this point, katara likes him and does not mind the fact that he is in her house, eating her food. she walks past the kitchen to be like “what u guys up to? oh, nerd shit?” 
sokka and mai accept to the same college, and zuko isn’t sure why he feels so weird about that. they’re gonna be in completely parts of the country, only sokka and mai will see each other all the time, especially because they’re bound to be in some of the same classes together, knowing them, and that’s just weird. like, yeah, they’re friends, and yes, he might be semi-aware of the fact that they hang out without him, like, all the time, but this is different. this is weird. zuko asks mai if she thinks it’s weird and she just raises one eyebrow and goes, “no???” and zuko’s like “oh..okay..”
they don’t see each other all that much in those four years, but they’re always taking pictures of ridiculous passages from the books they’re currently reading and sending them to each other, because they just can’t kick the habit. they both learn a lot in college. sokka takes as many classes as humanly possible. zuko changes his major a lot. toph doesn’t go to school there, but she moves in with sokka once she graduates. zuko learns a lot about himself. 
once sokka graduates, he and toph decide to get an apartment in a different city. sokka asks zuko what his plans are once he graduates and zuko’s like “bruh, like i’ve ever planned for anything in my life” so when sokka’s like “wanna be our third roommate” it’s a no-brainer. 
sokka picks zuko up from the train station, and zuko is just so overwhelmed by the casual thoughtfulness of the gesture that he instinctively just kisses him, in the middle of the station. zuko is mortified for a brief moment but then sokka is just like “cool.” (sokka later inwardly laments saying “cool.” who says that?? what, is he abed from community???) 
sokka tells zuko “just fyi, i don’t do relationships” and zuko is like “yeah, i know, you say that literally every day” but then toph slaps him (”sorryyyyy that was an accident” “no it wasn’t!”) and tells him to get his shit together. so sokka goes to zuko and says, “this may sound insane, but i think i’m afraid that if i love someone, they’ll die” and zuko’s like “oh. i’m afraid of that too.” and that makes it somewhat easier. 
ever since mai made them watch over the garden wall, they’ve really wanted frogs so that they could name them after the discarded jason funderburker names. they get their frog terrarium and it’s glorious. 
zuko has always wanted a cat, but he knows how sokka feels about cats so he does not bring it up. but one day, as he’s walking down the street, he stumbles across a little black kitten in the cold, shivering, limping, and missing one ear. he drops whatever it is he’s doing at the moment to bundle it up in his scarf and take it to the nearest vet clinic. the kitten is so indebted to him that he physically does not have the willpower to let it go anywhere else but home with him. 
it really doesn’t take much convincing at all for sokka to agree to keep jiji (yes, zuko is just incapable of not naming his pets after fictional characters) especially because toph threatens to kill herself if he doesn’t. sokka is just like “woah there calm down you guys. we can keep the cat.” and theyre like “yay sokka youre the best!!!” and he’s just like “oh my god did you think i was gonna make you get rid of this tiny kitten with only one ear.” 
zuko has a face for telemarketing. he also does some freelance writing. toph gives sokka very sound legal advice in regards to how to patent all the weird yet supremely useful inventions he keeps stumbling onto. after all, after tim cook offered him $$$ in exchange for that microchip he designed, he sort of doesn’t need a steady job. toph is really good at bullshitting rich people so she makes way more money than she should with those creepy statues of hers. they recognize how unstable their sources of income are, but sokka is really good with finances, so it works out somehow. when katara comes to visit them she complains that sokka has joined the 1% and is hoarding his wealth like the capitalist swine he is. sokka’s just like “katara did you only come visit me because you need money?” and katara’s like “well i won’t lie, so – yes.” 
sokka eventually convinces zuko to go to grad school. naturally, zuko thrives there. sometimes zuko will wake up at 3 am and sokka will very intently find him writing the word “nihil” in a notebook and sokka’s like “what’s up” and zuko’s like “NOTHING.” and then proceeds to be like “don’t you see??? there’s no declension!!! everything makes sense now!!!!!!!!!” and rambles on and on incoherently. sokka’s like “oh god i just realized this is how i sound to everyone all the time.” 
sokka takes zuko to the worst plays he can find, and then they sit in a 24 hour diner while zuko rants about everything wrong with said play. sometimes he even takes notes. this becomes a weekly tradition. 
zuko reads sokka’s shelved manuscript on the history of cartography and helps him whittle it down to only 400 pages. he’s not a very harsh editor, but he did cut the thing by 150%, so that’s a start. 
zuko teaches sokka how to paint.  
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sugar-kisser · 4 years
Note
Hi i love your work! Is it possible to request you to write anything to do with yunho ( not angst tho plss) pleaseee thank you
Yes of course! I hope you enjoy! 
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Doodles
warnings: none  featuring: Hongjoong  word count: 2067
“Please do not tell me you are already doodling on a cup for Y/N,” Hongjoong more-or-so states rather than asks, as he walks into the break room to grab some more coffee beans from the storage unit. Yunho looks up, caught red handed with a paper cup in one hand and, currently, a blue sharpie in the other. Yunho opens his mouth to respond, but Hongjoong holds up his hand, stopping him.
“Don’t even bother making excuses,” Hongjoong laughs before disappearing into the storage unit for a moment, “you might as well write your number on it!”
“What?” Yunho exclaims, “no way! That’s too embarrassing. She’ll think it’s weird.”
“Yunho,” Hongjoong sighs walking back into the break room, “you’ve had a crush on her for the past three months. I’m about to ask her out for you.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Yunho glares at him. Hongjoong raises his eyebrows and briefly smirks.
“Pretty sure six o’clock is in ten minutes,” Hongjoong teases.
“Hongjoong, stop,” Yunho whines causing Hongjoong to laugh at his best friend.
“I’m teasing!” Hongjoong laughs at him while he walks back towards the door to head back to work. He stops and looks back at Yunho, “seriously though, write your number on it. She’ll definitely text you.” Hongjoong exits the room leaving Yunho alone once again. Yunho takes a deep breath to calm his racing nerves and looks back at the doodled cup in his hand. He’s not the best artist, but he tries his best when it comes to decorating you cup. He always starts with a big pink heart on the side that has “SMILE” written in the center. Then he moves on to different colors and randomly doodles shapes, objects, and words on the rest of the cup. 
Yunho always writes little messages on cups for customers, but something sparked it in him to do something a little more, and you happened to be the first person he did that on. So he left a little heart next to the message he wrote. Little did he know you planned on continuing to come back to the little coffee shop. The first few times Yunho just did the message and little heart, but when he began to really recognize you and start talking to you he started adding more and more doodles. Each time you came in one more doodle was added to the cup. Now it’s to the point where he has to sit in the back on his break and decorate your cup.
You on the other hand love the doodled cups Yunho gives you. You actually don’t live near the coffee shop Yunho works at, nor do you work near there either. You first stumbled upon the coffee shop after visiting you boyfriends apartment… well now ex-boyfriend. You fell in love with their coffee, and you take the bus everyday after work to get some. You also took a liking to both the young baristas of the shop which you’ve made a mutual relationship with both of them. Some days you’re able to have a small chat with them, others you aren’t due to the amount of college student’s who decide they want to stay up all night long doing last minute assignments.
You patiently wait on the bus; the traffic is heavier than usual today and you keep checking the time on your phone. You’re not really sure why you’re too worried if you’re going to arrive at exactly six. Most days you’re either there just before or just after. So you’re not sure why you feel a little on edge today. You’re not going on a date. You don’t have any extra work to complete. And you’re more than sure that you don’t have any plan other than getting your coffee and talking to Yunho and Hongjoong.
When you notice the time slowly inching a little further past six and the bus not having moved in the past five minutes, you ask the bus driver to let you off where you are. You get onto the busy sidewalks and make your way towards an area that’s not as crowded to check the map on your phone to check how far you’re from the coffee shop.
“Four blocks?” You mumble, “that’s not too bad.” You put your phone back into your bag and begin you small trek.
“It’s almost 6:30,” Yunho slightly whines as he props his elbows up on the low counter having to bend down to do so.
“She might just be late,” Hongjoong tells him as he washes some of the equipment they use. Yunho loudly sighs causing Hongjoong to just roll his eyes. “She’ll be here Yunho. Don’t worry too much about it.” Yunho knows Hongjoong right, but he doesn’t like waiting. He’s usually not impatient- he’s just excited.
Yunho perks up when he hears the bell above the coffee shop door rings, but deflates a little when he see’s a few college students walk in instead. So to make time pass Yunho takes their orders and starts making their drinks. Just as Yunho is starting on the last of the three drinks ordered, and being in his own little world Hongjoong’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts.
“Y/N! You’re here!” Hongjoong greets you as you walk through the door.
“Hey. I had to walk the last four blocks because traffic wasn’t moving,” you laugh as you walk up to the counter. 
“I’ll have Yunho start on your drink,” Hongjoong tells you, already knowing what you’re wanting… well it’s not hard since you order the same thing every time. You hand Hongjoong you card and without you knowing he adds on the employee discount as he does every time and charges you. Yunho finishes up his previous drink order and calls out for the students names. 
Hongjoong hands him the doodled cup he left near the register earlier and begins working away.
“So how was your day?” Hongjoong asks as he moves towards the pick up counter.
“It was long. I honestly haven’t had a good week, so I’m happy for it to be Saturday tomorrow,” you tell him, “how has work been? Doesn’t seem busy tonight.”
“It hasn’t been. Which is nice. My feet aren’t killing me for once,” Hongjoong jokes causing the two of you to laugh.
“How about you Yunho?” You ask looking over Hongjoong’s shoulder. Yunho perks up like a puppy who’s been asked if they want a treat.
“Oh, I’m good,” Yunho shyly smiles towards you, “just been keeping myself busy.”
“Being a lovesick puppy,” Hongjoong rolls his eyes before slightly laughing. 
“Oooh. You like someone Yunho?” You ask cheerfully.
“He sure does,” Hongjoong quickly answers for him, “doesn’t shut up ever. I’ve been bugging him to ask her out and he won’t.” Yunho continues to make your drink as he feels his nerves really kick in. Not only that but his ears have turned a bright pink because of how flustered he is. He feels as if he’s about to be caught.
“You should ask her out,” you encourage Yunho, “she’d be the luckiest girl in the world.” Yunho turns around, holding your completed drink.
“Plus she’d be dumb to say no,” Hongjoong adds and you nod your head agreeing.
“Y-you think?” Yunho asks as he hands you your drink, slightly stuttering but he catches himself.
“I know,” you smile, “you should really do it. Does she come here a lot?” Yunho presses his lips together tightly but manages to give you a small smile and nod his head. “You should totally write your number or like ‘date?’ on the cup then! Really cliche but it’s cute.”
“Okay. I’ll do it,” Yunho shyly laughs and wipes his hands down on his apron out of nervousness.
“Good,” you tell him and you look at your phone to check the time, “I think I’m going to head out. I’ve had a long day and still haven’t had dinner. I better hear more about this girl tomorrow.” You point at Yunho teasing him a little, causing him to blush.
“Oh you will!” Hongjoong smiles and waves as you make your way to the door.
“Bye boys!” you smile. The boys wave back and you leave the coffee shop and walk to the bus stop around the corner.
“You put your number on the cup,” Hongjoong smirks having seen the number written on the cup as Y/N held it. Hongjoong leans against the counter, crossing his arms. Yunho doesn’t respond as he cleans the equipment tools he just used to make Y/N’s drink.
“YOU REALIZE THIS RIGHT?” Hongjoong grabs the tall boy and shakes him, “she’s going to call or text you within the next hour.”
“You don’t know that,” Yunho quietly tells him.
“You idiot,” Hongjoong slaps his hand to his own face and shakes his head, “she literally said ‘she’d be the luckiest girl in the world’.”
“But she wasn’t even thinking about if it was her,” Yunho clarifies.
“She. Will. Text. You,” Hongjoong tells him, “I bet you $20.” Yunho looks doubtfully at the red headed boy.
———
The traffic hasn’t seen to lighten at all, and it had already been half an hour since you arrived to the bus stop. You drank just about all of your coffee. You had been observing the little doodles on the cup here and there. Usually you wait till you’ve drink everything so you don’t spill it. So you quickly swallow the last of the coffee in one go. You lean the cup more to it’s side and begin looking at all the little doodles.
“Always creative with his ideas,” You laugh looking at the multiple different colored flowers, and his attempt to draw himself and Hongjoong. As your eyes scan over everything you double back when you spot something other than a drawing.
“Wait,” you whisper and you count the numbers, “oh my god.”  You think back on your conversation with the boys and it hit you. Yunho has a crush on you. Without second thought you hurry back to the coffee shop… hopefully his shift hasn’t ended. 
You open the door and Hongjoong looks up from the his phone laying on the counter. He just smiles and points to the break room. You hurry back and open the door loudly, causing a startled Yunho to jump. When Yunho lays his eyes on you, he instantly knows. The two of you quietly stare at each other for a moment before you speak up.
“You like me?” You ask with a surprised smile on your face, and you watch Yunho’s ears turn pink, “you do!”
“You don’t need to make fun of me,” Yunho quietly tells you, looking at the ground.
“Make fun of you? Yunho, why would I- I like you Yunho,” you tell him, and Yunho’s head shoots up, “yeah I come to the coffee shop everyday, travel across town for it, to have your coffee and to talk to you and Hongjoong. But I want to see you. You always make my days better Yunho, even if all you do is smile and give me my doodled cup. You know I’ve kept every single one? They’re stacked up on a shelf in my room.” Yunho’s eyes slightly widen and his mouths drops.
“You’ve kept every cup I’ve doodled on?” Yunho asks breaking into a small smile.
“Why would I throw away the one thing I have of you?” You ask, “they hold memories.” Yunho drops his jacket, walks up to you, and envelopes you into a hug. You hug him back, and you two just hold each other for a minute. Yunho pulls away and you look up at him. He gently cups your face and leans down to plant a sweet short kiss to your lips. When he pulls away he gives you his famous big smile.
“How about dinner since you still haven’t ate?” Yunho suggests, now in a giggly mood.
“I’d love to,” you answer, smiling back at him. Yunho grabs his jacket, closes his locker, and the two of you walk out of the break room.
“FINALLY!” Hongjoong cheers, “seriously Y/N, it was weeks. Thank you.” You laugh as Yunho’s ears turn pink for a third time tonight and the two of you wave good-bye to Hongjoong before leaving the coffee shop, the doodled cup still in your hand.
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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years
Text
chapter six: the black night
Sam and Alex spent about an hour of that first day in Germany there in the hotel room, away from the world, and with only each other. Neither of them were fatigued from the overnight flight. She had considered on taking her journal out for herself and for a drawing of something, much like how she made a special drawing for the show in England. But she had no idea if she should share her work with Alex, especially when he caught a glimpse of her doodling a sunflower on the inside of the journal's cover.
He sat next to her on the bed, in his little shorts, white socks, and his Gary Moore shirt, and with his legs pulled up a bit, and his hands right between his thighs. She gasped at his looking on at what she was doing and she covered up the doodle with her hand. He in turn gasped in response to that. She realized that he had seen her art but he hadn't known that it was actually her.
“Is it okay if I have a peek?” he asked her in a small voice and with his eyebrows raised which enlarged his deep eyes a bit.
“It's—It's kind of private, though,” she told him.
“I liked it, though,” he confessed, still in a small voice. “Basquiat died a few weeks ago, so I like to see another artist ascend to the position of greatness at some point.”
“I'm no Basquiat, though,” she insisted.
“Well, yeah. Every artist is unique. Basquiat was one of a kind—and even from a small sliver of a glimpse into your art book here, I can tell that you yourself are one of a kind. And that little thing you were drawing just there piqued my interest a bit. So—” He bowed his head and he raised his eyebrows even more, which softened his face to that of a young boy. “—is it okay if I have a little peek?”
He then lifted his head.
“I mean, it's only fair. You got to see the beginnings of our new album—twice! You're also seeing the transition of eras between albums.”
She swallowed and she leaned forward a bit to make sure that they were alone in the hotel room: Greg had gone off with Eric and Louie to have breakfast, while Chuck and Tiffany went out somewhere.
She then moved her hand out of the way to show him the little sunflower.
“Oh! Have you seen the painting that Vincent van Gogh did? The one of the sunflowers?”
“I have, yes! A few times, actually! It's—probably one of my favorites from him, to be honest.”
His face then lit up and he snapped his fingers.
“You know—we are in Europe, and on the western side of the Iron Curtain no less. It's not like we're back on the West Coast where you kind of have to set aside a whole few days just to go from L.A. to some place in Oregon or wherever. We can get on a train and go up to Frankfurt and visit a museum.”
“Would you take me there?” she gasped at that.
“Samantha, this is Europe,” he told her. “Ever since the war ended, they've been all about a revival of culture here. So—you know, I don't really wanna sit around here in my shorts and watch German TV all day long, either. I know you don't, too.”
“I don't,” she confessed with a shake of her head.
“Well, then.” He clicked off the television and he stretched out his long lanky legs before him. “Let me put some pants on and we'll catch the next train up to Frankfurt. It's only a few hours anyways.”
“Maybe we can go up to Copenhagen, too?”
He stopped. “If there's time today, we shall see.” He flashed her a wink and then he swung his legs over the edge of the mattress, and he walked over to the bathroom with his jeans. Sam closed her journal and she tucked her pencil right up next to the spine as she set it off to the side on the bed cover. She climbed off herself to put her shoes back on; soon he came back out with his black hair a bit more frizzy than she had seen before and a big silver skull ring on his right hand.
“I can see you being a continental of sorts, Alex,” she confessed.
“A continental?” he laughed.
“Yeah. I mean, you're smart and you're in touch with the world at large, and you like art, too.”
“I dunno,” he said with a shrug, “I feel like if you're considered a continental, you actually have to hail from the continent of Europe. Remember, the last name is not only Jewish but it's Eastern European.”
He adjusted the big ring on his right ring finger: it almost looked too big for his hand.
“Why a skull?” she chuckled at him.
“Why not?” he asked as he flashed it to her. “It's actually a symbol of life. Like a carpe diem—a reminder that the clock is ticking for me and for all of us. I also wanna think for myself, too. I've also got it on my right hand because I ain't married.”
“Mr. Swinger,” she teased him, and he scoffed at that. “You are in fact a continental!” She picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder.
“I've got a bit of money on me,” he assured her. “It's not a lot 'cause of the whole exchange rate and everything, but it's better than nothing, though.”
“I've got money, too,” she told him as they stepped out of there and into the hallway. He shut the door and tucked the room key into his front pocket.
“Remember if someone asks us, we're just hanging out together,” she told him as they walked on to the lobby and the front doors.
“Well, yeah, of course.” He chuckled at that, and they kept on going to the sidewalk outside. Chuck and Tiffany strode back into the hotel right then.
“Where you guys going?” he asked them in a big jovial voice.
“Frankfurt,” Alex promptly replied. “Taking the train up.”
“Have fun, kids,” Tiffany said with a smile on her face.
A beautiful but gray day there in Bavaria: Alex peered up to the sky overhead with his eyes squinted and his lips parted a bit as if he yearned for a glass of water.
“Think I could've brought a jacket with me?” he wondered aloud; the hazy sunlight made his smooth skin appear even more smooth than before. The little tuft of gray almost stood straight up over his brow.
“Nah, I think we'll be fine,” Sam assured him as she took out her sunglasses from her purse and put them upon her face. They walked side by side down the sidewalk: right at the corner was the sign to the train station, across the street and down the block from there.
“The trains around here run like clockwork,” he told her as they awaited at the corner, “especially those in Switzerland.”
“Like literal clockwork over there,” she said with a grin on her face.
“Exactly!” he chuckled at that. “They're nothing like the trains or the buses back in the States.” He ran his fingers through his hair, and especially through his gray stripe. “Think it's time to dye my hair again.”
“Why's that?” she asked him.
“To rid of this little thing of gray on my head.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“I kinda like it.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. It's interesting. Like, why is it in a single little plume upon your head like that and not all over?”
“I wish I knew,” he confessed and they crossed the street together. Once he had caught up to her, he spoke up again.
“A few years back, I was brushing my hair and I happened to look down to the sink, and I saw a gray hair there. I picked it up and I wondered where it could've come from. So I showed it to my mom and she goes, 'oh, it's probably from your dad.' But my dad's completely and totally bald, though. He hasn't had hair on his head since before I was born—at least that's according to her, anyway.”
“Wow.” Sam was stunned by that.
“Yeah, and soon another one grew back there.” She thought of the nickname she, Aurora, and Marla had given him at the Legacy shows: the boy with the pearl in his hair. “And, you know that whole thing where you shouldn't pluck gray hairs because more will grow in their place?”
“Sort of, yeah.”
“Well, my mom told me not to do it for that very reason. What did I do?”
“You plucked that one?”
“Yeah. Next thing I know, I got a whole little pocket of gray right there in a few months time.”
She laughed at that.
“And yeah—I have to confess, I'm particularly self conscious of it.”
She stopped laughing right then.
“Aw. Really?”
He nodded his head at that with a downcast look upon his face.
“It makes me look old, you know?” he continued with a lean into her own face. “Like, I'm nineteen looking on at my twenties soon. I shouldn't be going gray yet.”
“But I like it, though,” she insisted. “Like I said, it's interesting.”
He shrugged at that. “I've had people ask me if it's a birthmark, but who knows, really.”
Sam thought about the conversation that she had had with Aurora and Marla about that little pearl of gray, about the boy with the pearl in his hair. She couldn't exactly recall everything about it as he held the train station door for her.
“Thank you, dear gentleman,” she told him as she took off her sunglasses before she headed inside.
“Herr Skolnick and Fraulein Shelley,” he corrected her as he shut the glass door behind them. “That's the only German I know so far. That's according to this guy Louie talked to while we were in there.”
“Pronounced 'froy line', you said?” she asked.
“Yeah, he broke it down for the two of us, too. It literally means 'young lady.' Kind of ironic because I'm actually younger of the two of us.”
Sam giggled at that and he led her over to the ticket booth, which stood wide open just for them.
“Two single adults to Frankfurt, please—round trip,” he kindly told the man, and he took his wallet out from his front pocket.
“A combination for you and your girlfriend, too?” he asked Alex in a light German accent, and he was taken aback by that.
“Oh, she's not my—” He gestured to Sam.
“Couples get half off on the midday rides,” he continued, and Alex and Sam looked on at each other with knowing glances.
“Uh—yeah, we'll take it,” Alex told the man; and he snickered at the whole notion. “Good idea, right, babe?”
“Yeah, baby!” Sam went along with it. Alex took out a couple of euros from hiding and the man inside handed him a pair of tickets.
“For the Amerikanischer and his kleine Dame.”
“How do we say 'thank you'?” he asked the man.
“Danke schoen. 'Please' is bitte.”
“Oh, right, right, right! Uh, yeah, danke schoen.” He gazed on at Sam with a bemused look on his face, but she couldn't help but giggle at him as he handed one of the two to her. All the way towards the platform, she resisted laughing more at him. They stood there in anticipation of the train and the gray sky overhead darkened a bit with more rain clouds. Alex cupped a hand to his mouth to stifle his laughter. Sam felt her face grow warm from the feeling.
“Man,” he muttered and he shook his head.
“For real. I was not expecting that.”
He snickered some more.
“Couldn't beat that with a stick, though,” he said in a low voice.
“No way.” Sam thought of Bill right then and his incessant penny pinching. At least there she was headed into an art museum in central Germany and not a little market the size of someone's house down the street from her. There was a good reason with Alex: if she put any thought into Bill's behavior, it would ruin her day out with Alex himself.
“I got us the parlor car, by the way,” he told her; far off to his left, the silver train turned the corner on the railroad.
“Oh, you big stud!” she joked as she knew the man in the booth was still in earshot from there. He chuckled at that. The train rolled up before them and they soon boarded it one after the other. They were greeted by the warmth and comfort of the parlor car: nothing like the parlor cars back in the States for sure.
They took the spots closest to the window, but before she took her seat there, Sam spotted a small bar tucked in the far corner of the car behind them.
“Care for some authentic German beer?” she offered him with a gesture towards the bar.
“Bitte, meine Dame,” he joked, and she giggled at him and then she stopped. “Wait, that was good. You are a continental!”
The train rolled forward and she made her way over to the heavy white stone bar tucked in the corner. The female tender with the short bob of maroon tinted black hair showed her a smile in response.
“Two glasses of—ooh, Belgian beer, please,” she said.
“Two glasses, you said?” the woman echoed in a thick French accent.
“Uh, yeah—for me and my boyfriend over there,” she told her, and she had a difficult time in stifling a giggle at that. The bartender poured her and Alex a pair of glasses of that rich dark Belgian beer; when she handed the first glass to Sam, she looked behind her to the seat next to the window and gasped.
“Oh, my god, 'e is a beautiful boy,” said the woman in a hushed voice.
“Yeah, I guess he is,” Sam told her with a shrug.
“No—cherie, listen to me. 'E is a beautiful young man. I 'ave never seen a boy so beautiful as 'im.” She turned her head back in Alex's direction: the way the gray light of the day glowed back onto his milky skin so it resembled to porcelain and onto the plume of gray upon his head, and his jet black hair appeared blacker than normal. She handed Sam the next glass of beer. “You Americans—you must take care of one another and love one another. Take good care of 'im.”
Even though Alex wasn't her boyfriend, she couldn't help but wonder how much longer they could carry the whole charade out there in Europe.
“How much are these?” she asked with a gesture to the glasses.
“Five euros, s'il vous plait.”
Sam handed her five bills and then she picked up the glasses. “Is it—merci?” she asked her.
“Oui! Merci beaucoup.”
“Uh, merci beaucoup! He's learning German and I'm learning French so it—just makes sense.”
“Right? Enjoy your ride, ma cherie.”
Sam felt her face grow warm once more as she headed back to the seat across from Alex.
“Looking—as—red as a—cherry—tomato,” he stammered given neither of them were sure the woman was within hearing range of them. Sam giggled at him and he shrugged his shoulders; she handed him the glass before she took a seat across from him.
“I should tell you that this place that we're playing at this weekend, Schweinfurt—it's a few miles from the Iron Curtain. Like the border to East Germany is literally right down the street from there. I looked at it on this atlas that my parents have before we left—it's nuts.”
“Oh, wow, really?”
“Yeah—and I saw the train route while I was getting tickets in there. It's right after Nuremberg, too. We get to Nuremberg and then we hang a left and we're in Schweinfurt. Apparently, we have a stopover there!”
“Cool! So we get to see a little peek at it?”
“Exactly. Stopover there and then it's onto Frankfurt. Beyond that is Cologne and Essen, and then Amsterdam. But that's a full day's trip, though—Munich to Amsterdam.”
“Like, something to set aside for a whole trip altogether.”
“Right! We went to Amsterdam last summer for that festival that we played—you know, Eindhoven. Beautiful there. You think Germany's beautiful. I wanted to visit the van Gogh museum but we were kinda strapped for time, though.”
“Some day,” she remarked.
“Definitely, some day.” He raised his glas to her and they made a toast to each other. They took a sip of the Belgian beer in unison: nothing like any drink Sam had had back in the States, or even the cocktails that she had with Marla back in England. This was strong and full but nothing to get the both of them drunk, however.
“Oh, my god,” she blurted out as she brought a hand to her chest.
“Yeah, that's unreal.” He gaped at the sensation and rolled his eyes a bit, and she giggled at him, and he showed her a smile in return.
Within the hour, they stopped over in Schweinfurt and Alex pointed out the window. Beyond the train station was a street: off in the distance, Sam could see the pavement recede back into the heart of the city. A part of her expected to see a full on brigade off in the distance but she knew that the Soviet Union still loomed over them, and even more so from the station there at the edge of West Germany. Indeed, she spotted two men on the sidewalk wrapped in red and black overcoats and with batons latched to their belts.
“Soviets,” Alex pointed out. “See the hammer and sickle on their chests?”
Sam took a closer look: embroidered on their chests were little medallions. Even from the train window, she could make out the shape of the hammer and sickle inside there. It almost didn't even look real, even from a distance.
“Oh, wow,” she breathed out.
“I remember when we came over here last summer to play at Eindhoven festival and Louie, Greg, and I came here to Germany first before Chuck and Eric did, and I saw one of them when we got close to the border. Probably the most surreal moment of my life. It's like 'oh my god, it's real.' You know what I mean?”
“Oh, yeah!”
Those men merely stood there on the sidewalk as if they awaited something. But within time, the train rolled out of the station and westward to Frankfurt. But at that point, it was almost three in the afternoon, which meant they only had a couple of hours to relish in an art museum.
But there was absolutely nothing in the world that Sam could get past and that was the big beaming smile on Alex's face the whole rest of the afternoon.
The cold expression that she had grown almost all too familiar with had completely vanished and gave way to one of true joy. In those few hours as they walked along the cobblestones and visited a bakery for a bite of late lunch of open faced sandwiches and Black Forest cake, and then they continued on in search of the arts to nourish themselves further, every time Sam looked over at him, he looked up at all the buildings around them with a sweet smile plastered on his face. The happiest he had been up to that point, and he wasn't even with Testament right at that moment.
They were alone together in Germany and he enjoyed every moment of it.
At one point as they walked to a bookstore on a corner, she considered putting her arm around his shoulder. She had to stop herself, however: he wasn't her boyfriend.
But he certainly felt like it as she bought him a big glazed sugar cookie from another bakery.
“I'm gonna gain so much weight hanging out with you, Samantha,” he joked as he took a slow sensual bite; he rolled his eyes into the back of his head as if he experienced an orgasm.
“Get some meat on those bones,” she retorted, and the bakers laughed at that.
By the time the sun hung low over the horizon, and the gray sky began to change colors to a rich royal blue, they began back to the train station. Alex lovingly patted his stomach by the time they stepped on the platform. She had never seen him more contented as they gave the conductor their tickets before they stepped aboard. He snuggled down in the seat by the window on the right side: that time, they didn't have a table between them.
“Back to Schweinfurt!” he declared with a big beaming smile on his face.
It was the happiest she had ever seen Alex; she nestled close to him as if he was in fact her boyfriend at that point. His body was warm from the food, his face was rosy from the Belgian beer, and his hair was soft from the moisture in the gray skies overhead. Even if it was only for a few hours, she knew she had done him good that day. She had done what the bartender in the previous train wanted her to do for him.
As the train started moving, he leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. That time there was no arm rest between them, but a bit of a divet separated their seats, so she couldn't lean all the way over to him to cuddle with him. But he was warm and full: she had to relish in the soft feeling from his body.
He gave his dark hair a little toss and he looked at her with that sweet smile still upon his face.
“Still wanna dye your hair again?” she asked him as she eyed the gray tuft over his brow. He shrugged his shoulders.
“Don't really know, to be honest,” he confessed, “after today, I just might keep it.”
“As black as the very night itself,” she whispered to him.
“As black as night—but the gray as bright as day.” He winked at her when he said that and she beamed at him.
Soon, they made their stopover in Schweinfurt and that time around, they had enough time to step off the train. Sam went on to the ladies' room while Alex made his way over to the ticket booth for a question.
She surfaced out of there when she spotted those black curls right in front of her, but without his guitar on his back.
“Hey, Joey,” she greeted him in a soft voice, and he turned his head and flashed her a grin.
“What you doin' here?” he asked her.
“Oh, just—checking the place out,” she replied; she didn't dare tell him that she was there with Alex lest he fly off the handle at the mention of his name.
“You know, we're only a little ways away from the border of East Germany,” he told her.
“Oh, yeah, yeah, I know.”
“We get any closer—goin' down this street here—we get stopped by the cops over there.” He glanced up to the clock on the far wall. “We better hustle on back to the train.”
“I should ask you what you're doing here, then,” she retorted back to him, and she couldn't resist the grin on her face.
“I'm doin' what you're doin' and checkin' the whole place out. I got nothin' better to do, to be perfectly honest wit' ya.”
“Well...” She thought about Alex in the back of the train station, and his talking to the man in the ticket booth over there.
“Well, what? You wanna mosey on back to Munich and go grab a li'l bite to eat?”
The warm, soft feeling that Alex had bestowed onto her was still powerful and she desired for more of it. “That's real kind of you, Joey, but—”
“Oh, c'mon! You're my girlfriend after all. I can't hang out with my girlfriend in Germany?”
“You have to ask first,” she pointed out with a wag of her finger. The ringing of a bell caught their attention.
“We have to get going,” he told her and he raised his dark eyebrows at her. He began towards the train outside but Alex was still somewhere back there. They were about to leave soon; she chased after Joey towards the platform.
“By the way, I should have to ask you—how'd you get so tan?”
“I got a bit sunburnt a few months ago,” he told her with a shrug of his shoulders. “It all just peeled right off and underneath was all as brown as a coffee bean.”
The soles of his shoes padded on the concrete before them and she hurried after him. She peered over her shoulder: Alex was nowhere to be seen behind them.
Joey reached out for her hand and he led her onto the parlor car of the train, the exact same car as when she and Alex rode up to Amsterdam together. He took one step onto the floor of the doorway and she followed suit. She hung there in anticipation of him. He was somewhere in there.
She would stand there and wait for him if she had to. Even if it meant blocking passengers from boarding themselves. Even if it meant throwing all of the trains completely off schedule from each other.
“Sam?” Joey called back to her.
“Coming!” she replied, and she peered out to the incoming darkness. He ducked out from the station. She recognized that little tuft of gray from afar. He craned his neck in search of her. Even though he wasn't her boyfriend, he certainly felt as such right there as he looked for her.
She waved at him so as to grab his attention. She dared not call his name given Joey was right behind her.
“Sam!” Joey called again.
“Alex!” she blurted out. “Alex!” He turned his head right as the last few passengers boarded the car in front of her. He bolted right there and ran towards her. The train was about to leave right there.
“Hey!” Alex called after her.
“Sam, c'mon!” Joey insisted and he grabbed her by the hand and he took her aboard the train. The doors closed before Alex could come on board himself. He pounded on the doors but it was useless and too late at that point. The train rolled forward right then and there.
“HEY WHAT THE FUCK!” he shouted on the other side of the glass; his big voice echoed over the train. Joey dragged her to the seats on the other side of the train, unbeknownst to it all. Sam stood there before him, unsure as to what to do next. She knew that Joey was turning a blind eye to him.
“HEY!” Alex called out and he waved his arms about. She gasped at the sight of him there on the platform with his arms straight up in the air. She turned to Joey, oblivious to what had happened.
“Oh, no,” she muttered under her breath. She knew that the next train would be there soon enough, but she still left Alex behind, and about a mile away from the border no less. At least they were still in West Germany and they hadn't crossed over the Iron Curtain at any given moment. But if what he had told her about it remained true, he was still potentially within harm's way.
“FUCK!” was the last thing she heard before the train went around the corner and away from him. Her false boyfriend left behind about a mile from the edge of the Iron Curtain, and she went with her real boyfriend at that point.
“Care for a cuppa Joey?” Joey himself offered to her with that lopsided grin on his face.
“Um—sure.” She couldn't help from feeling out the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, and especially the heavy feeling inside of her chest. She left Alex behind, but then again, it wasn't exactly her fault. The train was about to leave.
Their small white china cups of coffee soon arrived and Joey was eager for the first taste. She couldn't enjoy it however. She kept on thinking about Alex, all by himself at a strange train station. She also missed the nickname Joey had given the cups of coffee as well: she couldn't exactly enjoy that for herself, either.
It would be another hour and a half before they returned to the station in Munich, and all the while, she thought of him. She wanted to cry but she couldn't, not with Joey right there in front of her.
By the time they reached the station in Munich, it was almost nine thirty and she couldn't bear to look at everyone because she knew someone would ask her what happened. Lucky for her, Joey led her to a small stretch of grass right across the street from their hotel, one that overlooked a small dark lake; before them was a narrow cobblestone walkway and a few metal tables accompanied with spindly chairs. He gestured for her to have a seat on the chair closest to her.
“I'll be right back,” he told her, and she nodded at him. She sat there, all alone, in a foreign city, and she had no idea as to what to say to Alex when he showed up again, that is if he did. Surely he knew that she waited for him at the door. Surely he would understand.
Joey soon returned to her from across the street with two cups of water in hand, and he handed her the one in his left.
“So—you guys are—touring?” she started with a clearing of her throat; she took a sip and the cold feeling upon her tongue was all she needed to feel right then.
“Yeah.” Joey turned his attention to her, complete with a thoughtful look on his face. “By the way, you've been awful quiet lately. I don't ever recall you being so quiet.”
“Oh, it's—it's nothing,” she sputtered out. “I'm just—in awe of—everything.”
Something moved about down on the grass. She spotted that little tuft of gray hair over his brow. He flashed Joey a dirty look and he looked at her with a cold glare. Even from a distance, she could feel his anger. She took a sip of her water as he walked on over to the dry patch of grass down by the waters.
Joey gave his black curls a little toss back from his neck and he showed her that lopsided grin. He then rested the side of his head within the palm of his hand.
“God, you know—it really is just so beautiful here,” he remarked with a glance up to the black sky overhead.
“Yeah—it really is,” she said with a look right into his eyes. “Like—upstate, but more.”
“Right?” She looked into his eyes so she wouldn't have to see what Alex was doing. But she could still see him out of the corner of her eye. Joey peered over his shoulder to the cobblestone walkway behind him with his dark lips still upturned in a joyous smile.
Alex had taken his spot there on the grass not too far from them, and he leaned back onto his elbows and stretched out his legs. Sam wondered where exactly she had gone wrong there with him. She would have to go back to the room with him, after she left him there within range of East Germany to his own whims. She left him there all by himself and he had hardly any money of him to top it all off.
When Joey wasn't looking, she had to talk to him.
Joey himself downed the whole cup of water in four large gulps.
“Let me get you some dinner,” he offered her as he set the cup down on the table.
“Oh, no, Joey it's—it's okay. I'm not hungry.”
“What?” he asked her with a bit of a mocking tone to his voice.
“I really am not hungry.”
“Oh, come on,” he encouraged her. “Some brats and sauerkraut to fill your cute li'l belly—I wanna treat my girlfriend well!”
She swallowed as he stood to his feet and rounded the side of the table. She watched him go across the street to the cafe next door to the hotel: she watched him go inside.
And then she turned her head to the right. Alex had turned around so he could watch her from a distance.
She walked up to him and he glared at her.
“Hey—about earlier,” she started, and he shook his head and he brought a hand to his brow as if he had a headache. She swallowed. She knew she had messed up by leaving him there, and she had to face the music with him, but she couldn't resist the sinking feeling in her chest.
“Alex, listen, he's my boyfriend,” she insisted, and she could feel her stomach twisting itself into a tight knot. Alex stood upright then and he towered over her.
“I know,” he said, terse. “But what I can't understand is what you continually see in him, though. And you ditched me, too!”
She paused right there and her mouth fell dry as a bone, more dry than any alcoholic drink ever left it feeling in the past. He shook his head about at her and nothing could deny the look of disgust on his face, either.
“You,” he stammered and he grew angrier and angrier right there, right before her, “you—you—fucking ditched me right by the boundary to East Germany. You ditched me when you knew damn well that there are Soviet soldiers over that way. How—” His bottom lip trembled and his face turned bright pink. The look of anger on his face twisted into one of heartbreak. They weren't in a relationship but she could tell that she had broken his heart.
“How—How—How could you?” he sputtered and he buried his face in his hands. Sam lunged for him but he pushed her hands away from him.
“No!” he yelped with furious tears in his eyes. “No! No, god dammit!”
“Alex, listen to me—”
“How could you become the very thing you are up against!” His voice broke to where she could barely hear him.
“What?” Sam demanded, stunned.
“You behaved just like that sad sack of nothing you call a friend, Aurora. She made my birthday all about her—you made our day out all about you. How could you!”
“Don't insult Aurora like that!” she spat, but Alex bowed his head again and he ran away from her and back to the lobby. She fumed at him even though he couldn't see her. How could he compare her to Aurora! But at the same time, as she stood there on the grass with her hands down by her waist, she couldn't help but wonder exactly what he meant by that.
She had gone off with Joey and left Alex at the train station, right within range of those Soviet soldiers.
She did.
But he had no right to say that about Aurora, even after everything she had done in the past year.
But his tears told her a different story. He wept at the very notion itself. Joey had already gone back to his room as well. She fetched up a sigh.
She had dinner with Joey but she wasn't in any mood to be with him after the fact. The day was about Alex, and she had been caught up in her own unfinished business all the while.
“I might just go to bed early, babe,” she told him as Joey walked her back to the room. “I have a headache. You know, with all the traveling and whatnot.”
“Oh, of course,” he replied, still with a thoughtful look on his face. “Besides, we're supposed to be back in our rooms at eleven, and here it is ten thirty.” Before she reached into her pocket for the room key, Joey leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on her lips. A feeling that she had missed.
It felt so long ago, and yet it was all within her hands right there.
“I love you,” he whispered into her mouth.
“I love you more,” she retorted, and he chuckled at that.
“You have a good night,” he whispered again, and he gave her another kiss before she unlocked the door and headed inside. She set down her purse on the table: Chuck and Tiffany had gone out again, and Greg was nowhere to be seen, but Alex had already crawled into bed. The bed sheet hugged his slender body so she kept her eye on the smooth curvature while she changed her clothes right there next to the bed.
She rounded the foot of the bed so she could look into his slumbering face. But he rolled over before she could so much as peel back the covers; he breathed hard and heavy as she crawled underneath the bed sheet next to him.
“Alex—” she whispered.
But he never acknowledged back to her. Joey was in fact her boyfriend, but at the same time, she had left him there at the train station. He sniffled and she knew that he was crying again.
“Alex, listen,” she started right into his ear. “I'm terribly sorry about earlier. I know you're hurt and I hope you can forgive me. But as I've said, Joey is my boyfriend. I couldn't help it. I hope you can forgive not just me but the both of us. You also had no right to insult Aurora like that. Yeah, she's been a complete egotistical bitch since she got married, but I still consider her a friend.”
But he was silent still. She sighed through her nose and she lay back down in the bed with her arms folded across her chest as she awaited for Greg to rejoin them. The whole incident left her divided. Too divided to think things over and too tired to even consider the very suggestion itself.
But she managed to fall asleep before she got to see him walk through that door, and she awoke by the time he had climbed into bed next to her.
Alex was sound asleep himself. They had trapped her in bed, but she could slide down the bed to the foot. Careful not to wake either of them, she sank underneath the covers and she inched to the foot of the bed. She slithered out from under the covers and onto the floor.
There was one guy she could talk to about all of this as she swiped the key card to the room before she crept out to the hallway. She squinted her eyes against the low lights upon the ceiling. Held low against the black night outside there.
She adjusted the straps of her camisole before she closed the door behind her. All alone in the hallway there, she continued on towards the very end. Every time she blinked her eyes, there was that image of Alex crying. She couldn't shake the image from her mind. She had been a friend to him this whole entire time. She thought about what she had said about Aurora earlier as well. Still a friend, but she hadn't been one to her in almost a year at that point. He had more of an upper hand over that.
One other guy she knew she could visit, even when the going got tough overseas, right down the hall from them.
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crimsonbluemoon · 4 years
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6, 3, 7 H2OVanoss! You know me heh ( •ॢᴗ•ॢ⋈)
Ahhh Owlbun! So I hope this fits the perimeters of a cute-meet cause I don’t know if it does but I think it does? Idk, its cute, please enjoy this mess of a story. >.> It’s a diff style than I normally do, but….hope it works out!
AU: Coffee shopTrope: Meet cutePrompt: “You had no idea, did you?”
Pairing: H2O Vanoss
If Evan was being honest, he hadn’t expected the chalkboard wall at his coffee shop to make much of a difference. The Owl Cafe was a staple in the community, and he had an okay group of regulars that liked to come in and check out his new blends on the daily. There were ones he knew by name, like the 6 year old girl Momo who loved Brian’s hot chocolate, or the late-night writer Kryoz who always seemed to appear when the place was deserted. Some regulars he didn’t catch names for, so he titled them as he saw fit; Runner man, vlogger teen, cute sweatshirt guy. All had their place in his cafe, which was steady in its sales. He wasn’t rolling in cash, but it was enough to pay Brock and Brian, so he felt that he was doing alright. 
The chalkboard had been something of a whim. A friend when he was younger had a wall in his bedroom with chalkboard paint that Evan had always enjoyed drawing on before bed. When he’d bought the cafe two years ago, he hadn’t really remembered the fun times he had scribbling across the bedroom wall. He was too focused on payments and attracting customers to stroll down memory lane. That had changed three months ago when bumping into Lui, the two speaking about their times as a child. The wall came up, of course, and Evan couldn’t let the memory go for days after. Lots of his customers had children, and college kids were always quick to bore when waiting for coffee. So one night, after a really good week at the shop, Evan went out and bought the paint in order to make his wall next to the waiting area a drawing board. 
The result was amazing; people loved coming by and adding their own doodles to the wall, filling it with different styles of art or funny sayings. There were always the punks who tried to draw dicks or write derogatory marks, but street justice tended to stop the crimes far quicker than Evan or his friends picked up on them. Evan enjoyed looking at the board at the end of the night, seeing what secrets it held from the customers he served. He tried to guess who drew what, or where each blurb of inspiration writing came from. Was the struggling mother of three the one who drew the calm beach? Did the preppy college girl express her darker thoughts in the corner of the board? Or was that old couple who shared a coffee really sweet enough to write their 70th anniversary with a heart around it? All of the pieces of the board was a collection of minds, hearts, and souls, and the nights didn’t feel complete for the shop owner without gazing at them in appreciation.  
His favorite part was the confessions; like an anonymous message board, people left words of secrecy every day. Evan felt it was a safe way for customers to express themselves without having to reveal their identity, and so far he hadn’t gotten any confessions that worried him. Brock always enjoyed reading the romantic ones where someone would claim their love for a friend, an ex, or a person they could never have. Brian’s favorites were the weird claims; he made Evan keep the ‘I like smelling feet’ confession up for three days. Evan couldn’t really say he had a type he sought out, because all of them were fun to read. If anything, he liked taking in the handwriting of the confessions, seeing whose were quaking with fear or more broad with confidence that only anonymity provided. 
It was nearly two months into owning the board that a message caught his eye; it didn’t have much color or outlandish design to it, so Evan wasn’t sure why it stuck out to him so much. But the writing just…looked different. Friendly. A little messy but with long enough strokes to show some care went into it. The words only took up a small part of the board. 
I come here every day because I think the owner is nice. And maybe cute? I wanted to ask for his name, but I’m too nervous.
Evan blinked in surprise, feeling his face heat up when he read it again. Someone…confessed about him? It was sort of risky, since this was his shop and he could have checked in on the board at any time, but it was also endearing. Someone was too shy to approach Evan, but felt strong enough about him to confess on his wall? He read the line two more times while he cleaned off every other drawing and confession, leaving the words in the middle of the board. Slowly, his eyes dropped down to the basket of chalk at the bottom of the wall, fingers twitching by his side. Despite having it for months, he’d never actually written on it. He left designing the morning greeting to Brock, as he was the artistic one of the three. But now…
He kept the confession where it was, drawing a little circle around it with the red chalk. Then, with block letters bright enough to catch any returning customer’s attention, he wrote out a simple reply. 
It’s Evan. Nice to meet you.
He didn’t think about the teasing Brian would rain on him, or how unlikely it was for him to get a response. The confessions were meant to be anonymous, not openers for conversation. So sure that his words would be left unanswered, Evan didn’t look once at the board the following day, trying to keep focused on making his customer’s happy. Any time he wasn’t working, he rushed into the back, trying to stay occupied so he didn’t stare at the wall. The day dragged on forever, but when the final customer was out the door, Evan nearly fell flat on his face vaulting over the counter to move to the board. 
“Desperate much, buddy?” Brian’s shout from across the shop went ignored when Evan scanned the wall, looking for any sign of a response. At first, the words around the response were disheartening; nothing connected to what he’d said. The drawings were still cute, and he wanted to read the confessions, but his heart slightly dropped at the sight. Had he scared off the anonymous messenger? He felt his frown start to capture his lips, but then his eye picked up on something. A blue circle had been wrapped around Evan’s words, and a line of chalk was drawn to the left of the board. Curious, his eyes tracked the line. Like thread in a maze, Evan was led to a familiar handwriting. 
Your name fits you! I’m…Jonathan. Is that okay? 
“Jonathan.” He rolled the name around in his mouth, his smile small when he finished. He knew instantly what his new secret penpal was asking, and he found the red chalk from before in order to scribble out his answer. 
That’s totally okay. I bet your name fits you, too, though I’m not sure who you are. Care to give me a hint? 
And for the next two weeks, the hints poured out. 
I like to wear blue a lot. Luke says it matches my eyes. But I think yours are prettier.
Evan counted seventy three customers with blue eyes who wore blue that day, but it did little to limit his search. 
I saw you drop that lady’s coffee on purpose. She deserved it for treating Brock like that. You’re a really good boss.
The incident had been in the morning around rush hour, which probably meant his penpal was at least his age. 
You only wear hats when you clean the mocha machine; it really looks good on you. 
Except this was something he did at night, so maybe he had different shifts throughout the week? 
Whenever little Momo comes in, you always give her the best smile. Sometimes I wish you’d smile at me like that.
Evan’s face hurt from how many smiles he gave out that day, but there had been nobody who hinted at knowing why he’d been grinning so much. 
You’re so beautiful. I really want to ask you on a date. 
Evan’s face flush red for the rest of the night. 
After the days of trying to piece together just who ‘Jonathan’ was, Evan was almost ready to throw in the towel. The little banter between them was fun, and peeks of Jonathan’s personality came out with doodles or smilies at the end of his sentences. He mentioned his friends, his dog, and if Evan closed his eyes, he could almost make out a voice to the words. Everything just felt so familiar about this guy, like he was already seated comfortably in Evan’s life. But he just couldn’t come up with a name, or anything to sink his teeth into. 
So, with a shot of courage (Brian may have supplied the alcohol) and nothing to lose, Evan wrote out one final message. 
Anything but coffee, and I’ll say yes.
Evan tried not to look at the board, just like the first day, hoping he wouldn’t scare away his crush by staring the wall down. Brock and Brian helped distract him, jokingly picking out old men and toddlers as ‘his secret admirer’ before laughing at the outlandish suggestions. Evan tried to smile and joke with them, but his shaking hands when giving out the orders always proved how nervous he was. Each time a customer came up to him, his back tensed, wondering if it’d be his penpal. But they never were, always asking for sugar or a bag for their half eaten muffin. 
When the last minutes of the day ticked away, and just a few regular souls lingered in the cafe, Evan finally broke. He left Brian and Brock behind the counter to walk up to the wall, hands shoved in the pockets of the apron to hide his twitching fingers. Slowly, his eyes scanned the board, trying to find the blue handwriting he’d grown to adore over the couple weeks he’d gotten to see it. But there was nothing; his crush hadn’t replied. 
“I scared him away.” Evan sighed and pressed his head to the chalkboard, eyes closing in defeat. His shoulders slumped down, unable to hide his disappointment. He’d just wanted to know who this guy was, because starting to fall for a chalkboard he technically owned was starting to feel a little creepy-
“Um.” An unsure voice made Evan bite back a groan, trying to keep his composure. Even if he was being ghosted by an anonymous customer, it didn’t mean he could ignore his other ones. Pulling back from the wall, Evan turned to catch sight of a familiar face. Cute sweatshirt guy had been a regular for months, always polite but never one to really engage in much conversation with Evan or the others. He always contributed it to the slight stutter in his speech, which only seemed to come out in longer sentences. It was actually kind of late for cute sweatshirt guy to be at the cafe; he’d bought his coffee close to an hour ago, and though he normally left right after, he’d seemed to linger now. He’d been one of the people who’d come up to Evan, looking like he was going to burst out in a confession, only to ask for creamer.
And sugar.
And a new cup.
…And more creamer.
For a coffee he always drank black.
“Wait.” Evan’s breath hitched in his throat as his eyes widened on the blue gaze nervously watching him, fingers curled into the worn down sweatshirt that was identical in color. 
“Yeah, I’m-that was me. Jonathan. Who you were-I’m the guy tha–that, um, fuck. Luke said I should’ve just-but the wall was…was our thing.” Jonathan’s face lit up in color at the confession, the nervous laugh that poured out loud and uncontrolled. It echoed from the emptiness of the cafe, and both men jumped when Brian swore and knocked over a stack of cups in surprise. Tagging that as future Evan’s problem, he turned his attention back to Jonathan, who looked ready to let his sweatshirt swallow him whole. The smile he gave only lifted half his mouth, proving he didn’t feel confident. “You had no idea, did you?”
“None,” Evan admitted, hands pulling out of his apron at the defeated look that sunk over Jonathan. 
“Right, that’s- I don’t have to ask you on a date if this isn’t what you…if I’m not who you-”
“Ask me!” Evan cut him off fast, not wanting to let Jonathan feel rejected for a second longer. He rushed forward, snagging hands that tugged the end of torn sleeves to entwine their fingers. Blue eyes widened above him, but Evan refused to let his racing heart of reddened cheeks stop him from repeating his confession from before. “Anything but coffee, and I’ll say yes.” 
“Dinner? Can I-would you like to get food with me tomorrow?” Like a puppy, Jonathan’s body perked up at the possibility. Evan laughed before lifting their hands to cup Jonathan’s cheeks. He pushed up onto his toes, feeling the slight intake of his customer’s breath before he answered with a kiss.
But just to be safe, he wrote ‘yes’ on the chalkboard the next morning.
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