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thornedrose44 · 3 years

Note

Supercorp prompt-

Lena takes an art class to de-stress and Kara is the nude model. Awkward semi- naked flirting ensues.

(A/N: So, I put my own twist on this (hope that’s okay), I made Lena a teacher just because I liked the idea of Lena having to keep her lack of chill under control and be professional in front of a class funny - though this fic went down just a really light, fluffy route which I hadn’t expected when I started it.)

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It had been going well, the first term had passed with only a few missteps and one trip to the emergency room - though, the Dean had told her that Zach had yet to make it through a single class without some sort of accident and had been preemptively banned from taking Chemistry classes for fear of taking out an entire graduation class.

Lena had never expected to return to her alma mater as a lecturer but the stars had aligned at just the right time. The youngest Luthor had reached a stage in her career where she had finally proven her adoptive mother wrong about not finding success as an artist and had made enough money that she need never paint another picture in her life again. The lack of necessity and the return to a more Luthor-esque lifestyle - galas, fancy balls and paid talks - had subsequently impacted her inspiration. She needed a change. A return to her roots and some sort of stability without losing her ability to make a personal impact with her work.

Her mentor - J’onn - was stepping down from the art department and had recommended her as his replacement; National City University had jumped at the chance of the world renowned Lena Luthor taking up a teaching position there.

She was now a third of the way through the school year, settled comfortably into her new role, and absolutely loving it. Her spark was back, and she was enjoying being in one place surrounded by her old friends. She was reconnecting with skills and techniques she hadn’t touched in years whilst simultaneously giving advice and encouragement to students that reminded her of herself when Lillian had cut her off to force her into attending business school and abandoning her dreams. She was finally able to return the kindness J’onn had given her all those years ago to the next generation of artists.

It was the second term that Lena experienced her first set of real nerves.

Lena had an artistic weak spot, an achilles heel that she had been able to keep out of her signature artistic style but she would now be forced to confront.

Life drawing.

It had been her lowest scoring class by a mile and she had avoided the advanced elective classes like the plague. Lena knew practice made perfect but she’d never had enough interest to develop her skills. Her interest had always lied more in natural landscape beauty - J’onn had said her true inspiration lied with trying to recreate her childhood memories of Ireland: emerald rolling hills, rocky cliffs, dense forests ensconced by a mystical fog that lended her artwork a fantastical element that she was now known for.

The problem lied in Lena’s lack of interest in people.

She had never really seen the ‘art’ in them.

Kelly, Sam and Andrea had spent hours over evening drinks psycho-analysing just why that might be, their two favourite theories were Lena’s family (the loss of her mother and the general unpleasantness of the Luthors) or Lena’s truly terrible dating history (their favourite topic of conversation due to the sheer number of embarrassing stories it elicited).

Lena refused to acknowledge the accuracy of both theories.

It was therefore with a sense of dread that Lena prepared for the first Life Model Drawing class that Tuesday afternoon. The one small silver lining was that she didn’t need to arrange a model - she had vague memories of J’onn trying to entice volunteers and grumbling under his breath about some of the less than pleasant eager volunteers. J’onn had a list of regular volunteers that he had accrued over the years that were reliable and just liked to help out - most of them older with an appreciation for the arts and more time on their hands than they knew what to do with. The University admin team had organised everything and simply told her to expect a Kara Danvers at the studio some time before the class.

Lena had finished prepping the studio well in advance, reviewed the relevant techniques for most of the morning and even phoned J’onn for a much needed pep talk over lunch. She had just convinced herself that everything might be okay, that she just might be able to do this, when the most beautiful woman Lena had ever laid eyes on burst into the studio.

A toned body that glinted with a light sheen of sweat barely covered by a white v-neck tucked in at the front of a pair of dark jeans that merely brought all of Lena’s attention to the bronze belt buckle that locked away a thousand dirty thoughts. Glorious golden ringlet curls bounced up and down as the woman stumbled to a sudden stop as the most piercing blue eyes imaginable behind thick glasses locked with Lena’s green ones.

“Hi, I’m Kara!” The goddess announced, swallowing thickly and stumbling forward in her hefty black boots as she extended out a hand for Lena to take.

Lena only reached out due to years of Luthor training that had ingrained politeness into her muscle memory - her brain still not firing on all cylinders at the sight of the woman in front of her. Kara’s warm palm connected with Lena’s, long fingers curling gently yet firmly around the edge of her hand and sending arcs of lightning through Lena’s body and causing her breath to stutter.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting for me for too long.” Kara continued, a bright apologetic smile lighting up her entire face and grinding whatever gears were still turning Lena’s mind to a dead - permanent - halt. “I try to always get here early to help set-up but the interview I was conducting overran - I’m a journalist, by the way - and then my bike - motorbike that is -” Lena’s mind caught on the motorbike and turned it round over and over and over again, “didn’t start and… I’m rambling. Oh, golly! I mean heck, I mean sorry.” Kara huffed, cheeks filling with air before releasing into an adorable pout. “Sorry.”

It was then that Lena realised two things.

One, it was her turn to say something and there had now been at least ten prolonged seconds of silence as they stared into each other’s eyes.

And two, they were still holding hands because that’s what it was now, it most definitely could not be considered a handshake.

“Umm… hi…” Lena choked out whilst simultaneously jerking her hand back to her side, hoping the somewhat stifling heat of the studio would hide the red blush perfusing her cheeks. “Lena. I’m Lena, that is…”

“Hi.” Kara murmured, smiling soft and sweet at her causing Lena’s heart to flip and melt and dance and do a million impossible things all at once.

“Hi.” Lena repeated dumbly - so dumbly.

“I should…” Kara chuckled, hands miming grabbing the edge of her t-shirt and lifting it up, “You know?”

Oh, god the goddess is going to undress, Lena’s brain screamed in gay at herself.

“Yeah, definitely do that.” Lena encouraged with a flap of her hand towards the centre of the studio where a solitary illuminated stool awaited. “Do you need anything? Is the lighting okay? Stool… umm… sturdy?”

Kara grinned at her, blue eyes barely sparing a glance at the studio’s set-up, “Looks perfect.”

“Great.” Lena cheered, jerking her thumb over at her desk in the corner where she had prepped her teaching materials, “I’ll… uh… be over there.”

“And I’ll be right here.” Kara shot back with a cheeky wink as she walked over to the stool, a towel awaiting her to provide suitable covering until the class had settled, shucking her white shirt over her head and revealing back muscles that would star in Lena’s fantasies for the foreseeable future.

“Yep.” Lena popped, taking a deep breath and trying to work out if she should be murmuring a thank you to God or screaming a desperate why me.

***

The class had gone well - except for the long periods where her brain shutdown whenever she studied the play of shadows across Kara’s defined musculature. She managed to cover it quite well by making it seem like she was just assessing her students’ work closely, analysing their line work and shading rather than going through an extended gay crisis that eclipsed seeing boobs for the first time in college.

Kara, on the other hand, was a consummate professional, holding a steady pose throughout and utterly unfazed by the concentrated gazes on her - though, Lena could have sworn that she caught deep blue eyes tracking her movements round the half-circle every now and again.

“So, you’re experienced doing this?” Lena asked, once the last student had departed and Kara was finishing re-tying her sturdy boots back up.

“Taking my clothes off?” Kara chuckled, shooting the teacher an amused smirk, getting to her feet and strolling easily over to where Lena was examining the product of her class’ efforts.

Lena faltered, “I meant-”

“I’m just teasing.” Kara reassured, reaching out to squeeze Lena’s forearm in a half-apology that Lena could have sworn burnt Kara’s hand print into her skin, “I’ve done this for a while now. I did an interview with J’onn a few years ago and his model bailed at the last minute and I was here already and…” Kara shrugged casually like stepping in was the obvious thing to do, like kindness was the only option - which Lena didn’t doubt for a second was something Kara genuinely believed. “I like helping out where I can. And I just kept coming back…” Kara explained, clasping her hands behind her back as she took a tentative step closer to Lena, “I was never really sure why until-”

“Hey, babe, you ready to go?”

Lena’s head snapped round to see Andrea strolling through the doorway, eyes fixed on her phone utterly oblivious to the moment she had just trampled all over. Lena wasn’t sure whether Andrea was naturally such a good cockblock or if she practiced at it - regardless of either option Lena’s sexlife had vanished into thin air since she’d returned to living in the same city as Andrea. (Not that Lena thought that her and Kara were heading that way but Lena had been enjoying the hope of it at least).

“Andrea, you’re early for the first time in.... well, ever…” Lena snarked, rolling her eyes before glancing over to Kara, only to find the blonde had taken a large step away from her and her expression was far more neutral and guarded than it had been only moments before.

“Wait, we weren’t meeting at 4?” Andrea frowned, still not bothering to look up.

“Ah, so you’re not early, you’re over an hour late.” Lena remarked.

“God, you’re such a drama queen…” Andrea sighed, finally lifting her gaze from her phone, her eyes immediately alighting on Kara with undisguised interest. “And who is this?”

“Andrea, this is Kara the model for our life drawing classes.” Lena introduced taking a protective step in front of the blonde, an action that did not go unnoticed by the other two occupants in the room. “Kara, this is my supposed best friend who is regularly trying to lose that title.”

“Oh, best friend?” Kara repeated; the familiar brightness from before returning to her expression as she looked excitedly between the two friends.

“Yes.” Lena answered, smiling shyly at Kara and immediately forgetting Andrea’s existence, let alone presence in the room.

“That’s great.” Kara grinned, blushing a light pink a second later as her hands fidgeted with her keys, “I mean… ummm…. That you have a best friend. My sister is my best friend, though I have other friends. I just mean that… friends are cool.”

Lena laughed lightly at Kara’s ramble, leaning closer towards the blonde without realising until Andrea appeared at her shoulder looking far too pleased with herself.

“Kara,” Andrea greeted, holding out a hand for the blonde to shake (Lena was comforted to see their handshake was quick, almost professional in comparison to the lingering touch Kara and Lena had shared earlier). “The pleasure is all mine.” Andrea declared, winking surreptitiously at the teacher - Lena instantly dreaded the upcoming girl’s night.

“Nice to meet you.” Kara replied friendly and sincere, before smiling softly at Lena and muttering a hopeful, “I’ll see you next week?”

“I’ll be here.” Lena reassured, watching as Kara nodded farewell to Andrea and departed, waving on her way out.

“Well…” Andrea murmured mischievously.

“Don’t.” Lena said sharply, holding up a finger to deter whatever torment Andrea had brewing. “Not a word. Not a single word.”

“Ooookay.” Andrea lied.

***

“You okay?” Lena asked tentatively, watching as Kara sluggishly slung her bag over her shoulder the pep to her step nowhere near as present as it had been last week.

They hadn’t had a chance to talk before the class even though Kara arrived much earlier to help set-up - Lena had been helping a student struggling with deadlines and a sudden crisis of confidence which prevented them from interacting. Despite being occupied, Lena had seen the fatigue weighing heavily on the reporter, saw how her impeccable posture dropped and how her students added weary lines to her expression in their artwork.

“I think you fell asleep on that stool for ten minutes at some point.” Lena murmured, brow creasing in concern.

“Pfft… what?” Kara reassured with a light-hearted wave of her hand. “Impossible.”

Lena arched an unimpressed eyebrow, “You snore. Quite loudly.”

“Oh…” Kara pouted guiltily, rubbing at the back of her neck, “My sister is going through a rough patch and I stayed up late with her last night.”

Lena’s amusement drained away to be replaced with soft, supportive care, “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’s doing better.” Kara replied, blue eyes twinkling at Lena’s inquiry that had them both ducking their heads coyly and sharing furtive glances. “I should get going.” Kara coughed out, though she made no move to leave.

“Or…” Lena began hesitantly, heart fluttering in her chest, “we could go for coffee? You should probably have a coffee before driving,” Lena rationalised, nervously stepping back from the blatant romantic line she was toeing, “you know for safety…”

“For safety.” Kara repeated carefully, blue eyes glowing with warmth, “That sounds wonderful.”

***

It didn’t take them long at all to settle into a comfortable routine.

Kara came early to the life model classes, helping set-up the room as they talked about the students' progress and what Lena was going to make the focus of the class. During the class itself, Lena no longer needed to flit as regularly between her students, they had learned the basic techniques enough to practise for themselves, now only requiring light guidance which allowed Lena time to either do some marking or her own art. Kara posed perfectly throughout, though Lena was becoming more and more aware of Kara’s still gaze on her as the weeks passed by.

After class, it was now custom for them to grab a coffee and go for a long walk around the university campus as they talked about everything and nothing. They would have been building towards a strong friendship if it wasn’t for the lingering touches, blatant flirts, blushes and wandering gazes.

Lena wasn’t overly sure why they hadn’t crossed that line, made that final move, but she found she didn’t particularly mind the wait. She was convinced that they had both decided that the journey was making the destination all the more desirable.

It became abundantly apparent, though, that Kara thought differently if their conversation after the class midway through the term was anything to go by.

“So do you not like my body?” Kara asked, quick and fearful, eyes looking down at the sketch Lena had done during class of a vase of flowers in the corner rather than of the readily available model.

“What?” Lena muttered in disbelief looking up sharply from her desk to see Kara paling considerably having clearly not intended to ask the question that she had blurted out.

“I… uh…” Kara squeaked, mouth opening and closing rapidly, before lifting her bare wrist up with a jerky motion and whistling in exaggerated surprise, “Wow, look at the time. I’m late for… uh… this thing. Work thing. Interview! That’s a work thing.”

And just like that she was gone - Lena wouldn’t have been surprised if there was a Kara shaped hole in the studio wall with how fast she disappeared - leaving Lena with a sinking, twisty feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her she might have lost more than her regular coffee with Kara over that one interaction.

***

Lena had Kara’s phone number and they had taken to texting throughout the day; however, since Kara’s panicked question - which probably revealed some deep vulnerability in the blonde - there had been complete and total radio silence. No memes, no cute animal pics, no sweet check ins… Lena’s phone remained silent when it once vibrated with life.

Lena wanted to text or call Kara the second she had left the studio but Lena didn’t feel like this was a conversation they could have over text, so she waited impatiently for them to be face to face again, counting down the days until the next class.

Lena even took to repeatedly checking in with the admin office to confirm that Kara hadn’t pulled out of modelling; reaching the stage where Jess, the most senior admin in the team, had taken to emailing her every couple of hours to reassure her that Kara still hadn’t cancelled.

When Kara appeared, nervously stepping into the art room, fingers playing with the hem of her shirt, it was like Lena could finally breathe easy again. The fear and loss eeking away in an instant, giving Lena the necessary courage to stride forward and bare herself in a way that Kara had been doing every week without Lena fully realising.

“I don’t like drawing people.” Lena announced, shoving her hands into her pockets to resist the temptation to reach out to the other woman as the blonde blinked at her in surprise, listening intently. “It’s kind of a thing with me.” Lena winced, pushing down all the reasons for why that is. “When I draw something I… kind of let whatever it is into me, let it consume me and it… stays with me for a long time after that. It’s why I draw what I draw. I draw my home because it's a part of me already. Drawing someone means carrying them with me and… that’s scary for me.” Lena breathed, glancing at the blonde to see soft understanding in blue eyes. “I just wanted you to know it’s not you.”

Kara nodded, shuffling closer and dipping her head so that she could whisper into the still space between them, “Thank you.”

“Right,” Lena murmured, swallowing thickly before jerking a thumb over her shoulder, “I should-”

“Do you want to get dinner?” Kara inquired earnestly causing Lena to freeze in hopeful surprise. “After class, that is?”

“Um… Yes.” Lena replied, nodding her head eagerly.

“Awesome.” Kara grinned brightly.

***

Kara took her to a tucked away italian restaurant that was one of National City’s hidden gems. The food was outstanding and the company was even better.

It wasn’t a date, but it wasn’t just friends going out for dinner either.

Lena would call it a test-run but that would imply that Lena wasn't already one hundred percent certain that she wanted an actual date with Kara. It was more of a date-appetiser if Lena was going to call it anything, a taste to build interest before the real thing.

Once they had finished their food, Kara didn’t hesitate to interlace their fingers as they went for an evening stroll around a nearby park, both wishing to prolong their time together.

“Can I see your art?” Kara requested; they had been sitting on a bench in front of a lit-up fountain for the last twenty minutes or so in comfortable silence. Lena had expressed an interest in sketching the fountain and Kara hadn’t hesitated to find them a seat and encourage Lena’s desire without complaint, occupying herself with people-watching in the meantime.

“I’m pretty sure the images are all over the internet.” Lena replied drolly.

“Yeah, I know it’s just…” Lena’s pencil froze in it’s movements finally noticing how hard Kara was trying to act casual, “what you said about it being a part of you, I thought-”

“You want me to show it to you…” Lena inferred, setting her pencil down and closing her handy sketchbook in an instant.

“It’s stupid, I’ll-” Kara laughed awkwardly, shaking her head in an attempt to brush over the request like it wasn’t a big deal

“I don’t have many pieces here in National City,” Lena said thoughtfully, getting to her feet and holding out a hand for Kara, “but I have some works in progress that I can show you… if you want that is?”

“I would love that.” Kara beamed, jumping to her feet as Lena tugged her back towards her campus studio, already picking out her favourite pieces in her mind that she wanted to share with the blonde.

***

Lena and Kara’s ‘friendship’ continued to blossom into something neither could have anticipated that day Kara sprinted into the studio all those weeks ago. The weekly class they shared was now always followed by dinner, taking it in turns to share their favourite cuisines and restaurants. They had also grown beyond only seeing each other on their allotted class day, sharing lunches and movie nights and spontaneous coffees as they learned each other's schedule and needs.

Lena read all of Kara’s articles and spent many an evening asking countless questions about the background to each of them. Likewise, Kara would appear for coffee with one of Lena’s artworks saved in her phone, burning with curiosity about what had inspired it.

Time spent with Kara flew by and, before Lena knew it, it was the final class prior to spring break. Her last class with Kara until the next school year and Lena was finally ready.

She had finally figured it out.

Why she had waited.

Why she had yet to seize the numerous opportunities to transition her relationship with Kara into a romantic one.

It was because she knew.

She knew from the second that she had taken Kara’s hand in hers when they first met that this was it. That Kara was it.

And that was, and still is, terrifying.

When they had first met, Lena hadn’t been ready for Kara. Hadn’t been ready for everything that Kara represented and would come to mean. She had needed the time, the time to lower her guard, to trust and hope.

And now, she was ready and she knew exactly how to let Kara know.

The class came to an end with Lena giving her students a quick speech on how proud of their progress she was and wishing them a good spring break. Kara lingered behind as was now custom, helping Lena tidy up the area before they headed out together.

“Kara?” Lena called out nervously, sweaty palms rubbing against her black denim covered thighs as her heart beat thunderously in her chest. “I was wondering…” Lena began, clearing her throat as Kara stopped what she was doing to give Lena her undivided attention. “Can I… can I draw you?”

Kara’s brow instantly furrowed in confusion, “I thought-”

“Yeah…” Lena laughed shyly, staring into deep blue eyes, practically begging for Kara to understand what she was really saying. “Can I?” Lena repeated.

Kara pursed her lips thoughtfully as she studied Lena’s expression - it was then Lena realised that Kara understood exactly why they had been waiting. Kara wasn’t replying because she wanted to check that Lena was sure, was giving Lena a chance to delay, was saying - without really saying it - that she could wait longer.

Lena didn’t take the escape Kara offered, instead she lifted her head higher and arched an eyebrow at the blonde.

A thousand-watt smile of excitement took up residence on Kara’s face as she nodded eagerly, “Of course.”

“Clothes on.” Lena clarified - she had promised herself that the first time she truly studied Kara’s body it would be in a setting where touching would not break any professional standards.

***

Lena had Kara sit opposite her in her private studio, their knees pressed tightly against one another providing a warm point of contact to keep them grounded. Lena’s gaze flickered from her sketchpad to Kara’s features; occasionally, she would reach out to adjust a lock of golden hair so it caught the light. Kara, meanwhile, had an ever constant soft smile that didn’t diminish for the entirety of the session even as she was forced to rein in her boundless curiosity to stop herself from sneaking a peek at Lena’s sketch until it was ready to be revealed.

Lena only drew Kara’s head because, though, she had spent countless hours in the presence of Kara’s naked body over the course of the last few weeks - when Lena thought of Kara (really thought about her in the way that made her heart skip), it wasn’t her abs or her biceps that Lena pictured (though she did think about them regularly when she was in her bed alone at night).

It was Kara’s eyes that Lena thought about most.

How they were so bright and hopeful whilst simultaneously melancholic and lost.

There were whole galaxies in those blue eyes and Lena knew that she could spend the rest of her life drawing them and never get bored, nor get them exactly right.

“What do you think?” Lena asked, slowly turning her sketchbook round for Kara to see.

It wasn’t finished. It was mere line work that would require further detailing but it was a good start and she hoped Kara could see its potential like she did with everything else in the world - like she did with Lena.

“It’s…” Kara began, licking her lips as she pulled the sketchbook closer to her chest like it was something treasured and infinitely rare. “It's incredible.” Kara breathed, the sincerity of her words undeniable due to how they were accompanied by a watery film to her blue eyes.

“I like your body.” Lena whispered, shattering the companionable silence they had drifted into as Kara admired Lena’s artistry.

“W-w-what?” Kara stammered, head jerking up at the out-of-the-blue declaration.

Lena reached out for the sketchbook, lifting it out of Kara’s hand and placing it on the nearby table so that she could take Kara’s hands in hers.

“You asked if I liked your body a while ago,” Lena reminded the blonde, “and I just thought you should know that I do. I really, really do. I mean really.” Lena emphasised, glancing appreciatively down at Kara’s body prompting the blonde to blush a pleased pink. “But it's more than just that. It’s become more than that. Talking after class, getting coffee, going for dinner… it's the best part of my week. You’re the best part of my week.”

“Lena-” Kara began, her mouth suddenly snapping shut as her jaw clenched and her chin lifted in determination. Blue eyes studied Lena for a long moment and all Lena could do was hold her breath and wait.

Lena made Kara wait weeks, she could therefore wait the stretched seconds that Kara needed in return without complaint

Kara got confidently to her feet, tugging Lena up with her, squeezing their hands once before releasing her so that she could reach up to tenderly cup Lena’s face. “I’m going to kiss you now.” Kara declared, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Thank fu-” Lena sighed gratefully, cut off from offering up her thanks by Kara’s perfect lips sliding over hers.

#supercorp #supercorp fic #supercorp prompt

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peaches-writes · 3 years

Text

member: hyunjin wc: 1.3k genre: fluff, high school au (yall r like reviewing for college exams in this or summ), bad boy au, secret relationship au (kinda) note: me realizing my fave period wlw film is not on the internet and projecting one of my fave scenes from it to hyunjin to cope lmao

[9:40 AM] A piece of paper rolled inside one of your black pens greets you after recess break, left outside of your usually organized pencil case for you to notice first as soon as you return from the convenience store across the street. Without even unrolling it, catching sight of Hyunjin right after, ‘sleeping’ with his earphones blasting a familiar RnB song across the room, was enough to give you an idea on who it could be from.

“What? Are you trying to cheat on exams now? It’s only the CSAT reviews, Y/N, how could you?” Your best friend and seatmate, Chaeryeong, snickers playfully when she belatedly notices the paper, elbowing your side before sitting down next to you with her snacks. “If I were you, though, I’d hide it on my eraser. I heard that’s more discreet!”

You roll your eyes at this, following her actions and sitting down as well with your own snacks. From the corner of your eye, you see Hyunjin shift in his hunched over position exaggeratedly loud, almost as if covering up an amused chuckle from him. “It’s not a cheat sheet.” You reprimand sternly, eventually cracking from the façade and giggling anyway. Exchanging your newly-bought snacks in your hands with the pen on the table, you immediately twist its cap open and take out the cartridge where the message has been rolled haphazardly around. “It’s...something else.”

Curiously, Chaeryeong leans to your side of your shared table with her banana bread and rests her chin on your shoulder as you separate the paper from the cartridge. “What is it, then? Who’s it from? Are you in on a CSAT conspiracy? Are you dating someone behind my back?” She gasps scandalously, making you laugh even more that you almost drop the bare cartridge on your lap. Ignoring your flustered reaction, she reaches for your arm and begins shaking you frantically for emphasis. “Come on, let me in on the gossip! Is he from our year? Is he older? Is he a she? Is he a they? Because if it’s a they, I’d gladly be in your exam conspiracy but not in a poly relationship—you know, just giving you a heads up.”

You hear Hyunjin shuffle in his position once more, changing the song on his earphones halfway to a quieter one that makes his intentionally faint giggle sound louder in your ears. It makes you want to burst into more laughter on the spot as well but you focus instead on returning the cartridge back in its barrel first then opening the message fully.

‘Hey, we’re still hanging out after school today, right? I heard from Jisung that your friends are having extra hours of study group today :(

- HHJ

P.S. You look really cute today.’

“’HHJ’?” Chaeryeong raises a brow before releasing a belated gasp, removing herself from your shoulder to slap your arm and hiss, “Ya! You’re still hanging out with that troublemaker, Hwang Hyunjin?!”

Glancing to said boy’s side of the room, by the entrance door where your cram school classmates have started piling in once more, you shrug in feign denial and answer, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Chae.”

This time around, Hyunjin purposely lets you and Chaeryeong hear him snicker.

[10:56 AM] “Ma’am?” You raise your hand up in the middle of a mock exam, lifting it down only when your proctor has reached your side to pass her your answer sheets. “Can I go to the bathroom? I’m already done with the exam.”

Ms. Park nods and takes your answer sheet, gesturing for you to stand with a smile. “Sure, Y/N. Go on ahead.”

“Thanks, ma’am!” You nod with an equally grateful grin, waiting for her to turn her back to you before subtly pocketing your eraser and standing up from your seat.

You make a quiet beeline to the classroom’s back door where Hyunjin is seated, loudly opening the door to simultaneously drop the eraser near his foot. Stepping out of the room, you then make sure to close the door behind you quieter this time to hopefully avert the classroom’s attention away from Hyunjin.

Back inside the classroom, Hyunjin waits for your footsteps to fade onto the outside hallway first before taking out your eraser from its paper cover and noiselessly flattening the box-shaped structure.

‘Yes! We’re still on for later! I told them I’m hanging out with you but I kinda lied and said I’m tutoring you for something back in the regular classes heh...

- Y/N

P.S. You look really cute today too. Is that a new lip piercing? And...are you forgetting something?’

[11:01 AM] There’s a pink post-it note with its adhesive side turned upwards on the floor when you return from the bathroom. Finding Ms. Park sitting down on her table to watch over the students, you instinctively step on the folded note with the heel of your shoe and drag it over to your desk to discreetly hide it under your backpack on the floor.

You then hurriedly retrieve your answer sheet from Ms. Park as per classroom policy during exams before settling back down on your desk, pretending to reach for your pencil case in the outer pockets of your backpack to pick up the post-it note from the floor.

“Gosh, you two are so in love it’s so painfully obvious.” Chaeryoung mumbles teasingly under her breath as she steals a glance over to you while finishing her own exam. “If you keep this up, Yeji and I might actually spy on you two one of these days.”

Heat rises up to your neck in an instant which you expertly hide by tilting your head away from Chaeryoung and elbowing her. “We’re not...in love or anything. We’re just hanging out.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” She rolls her eyes, returning her attention back to her work.

‘Aah, now you’re lying. Am I rubbing off on you? You’re not making it any easier for me to win your friends over >:(

Anyway, it is a new piercing! I got it yesterday with Jisung so it’s still a bit painful but it’s cool, isn’t it? I also picked up something after the appointment that I thought you might like! I’ll show it later :)

- HHJ

P.S. Almost forgot! I was in a hurry to write a while back because Jisung kept bothering me but here’s your daily I love you from me <3’

“What does it say?” Chaeryoung whispers to you after a while, resting her head on top of her folded arms on the table. “The PG parts, at least.”

“Shut up.” You hiss with a chuckle, re-folding the paper before pocketing it. “He’s just, uh...asking for tutoring later.”

[12:30 PM] You find Hyunjin tying his shoelaces by your cram school’s mini parking lot as you and your friends return from buying lunch at the convenience store. With only Chaeryoung noticing as she has her arm linked with yours and pointing at Hyunjin, you shoot a crumpled piece of paper to your boyfriend that lands right under his motorcycle.

“For questions about ‘tutoring,’ you two sure are making it really dramatic.” Chaeryeong snorts in amusement at seeing you cover your mouth in giggles as you refrain from turning around to see Hyunjin pick up the paper. “You know, you two can talk to each other in person like normal people, right? At this point, I’m not even going to be surprised if a pigeon suddenly lands on your table during lecture.”

“Yeah, well, he started it.” You defend yourself, dragging Chaeryeong to catch up with the rest of your friend group before they could notice the two of you acting strange. “Come on, we’re behind everyone else! It’ll look suspicious!”

Behind you, Hyunjin excitedly opens the paper and flattens out the creases as much as he can, chuckling at your smaller than usual handwriting.

‘It better be the matching lip rings you promised before! Now, I can’t wait to see you after class even more :(

I love you too <3 The pen trick’s really neat, by the way. I really need to one-up you one of these days.

- Y/N’

m.list

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lettheladylead · 4 years

Note

My heart kinda hurts not seeing goldie can we get a fic where goldie is in the last house? Also it gets a little spicy in the middle👀👄👀

(ok so this fic DEFINITELY got away from me. also there’s no spiciness) [ao3 link]

As the sleigh pulled up to what Webby excitedly referred to as “the last house!”, Scrooge couldn’t help but feel a faint familiarity. The snow was much too thick to really tell where they’d landed, but he could just make out a small wooden cabin a few hundred feet away.

He glanced left and right before looking up at Santa. “Someone lives here?”

The jolly bear chuckled and shrugged. “They’re living here tonight, at least.”

Webby and Scrooge shared a confused glance at that comment, but still - he had a job to do. Webby handed Scrooge the box that Santa handed her and Scrooge made his way towards the building.

Even as he got closer, the snow was still too thick for him to really get a look at the cabin, but it seemed very old and barely used. If he didn’t know any better, Scrooge would think Santa was trying to trick him by sending him to an empty home with nothing but a lesson in humility inside. But Scrooge held onto his hat with his free hand and smirked, thinking about how if there was a child in there, they’d be overjoyed to get some coal and some warmth in the middle of this freezing storm.

Scrooge shoved the door open as quietly as possible, hoping that the rush of cold air wouldn’t wake anyone up. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room in front of him, Scrooge froze.

This was his cabin.

Why in the world were they here? His brow furrowed and he looked all around him, taking in the memories of White Agony Creek and his first big gold nugget and Goldie and being King of the Klondike and -

His thoughts were cut off by a noise coming from the bedroom. There weren’t any lights on, but he was sure he heard something. Was he delivering a present to some straggler who’d taken claim of his cabin when they had nowhere else to go? Some homeless child with no one to turn to? A squatter that wouldn’t leave even if they could?

With an agitated inhale, Scrooge took a few quiet steps towards the door and slowly pushed it open - knowing just how to prevent any loud creaks or squeaks. No matter how many decades ago he lived in that cabin, he could never forget the small details.

His eyes had to adjust again - a little bit of light coming from the full moon outside the window gave him a better view than before - and Scrooge was caught by the most unexpected sight in front of him. In fact, if someone had told him he would see such a thing, he would’ve called them insane.

But instead...there was Goldie. Right there, laying on his old bed. Her back was to the door, she was bundled up in a bunch of blankets she’d clearly brought herself, and she had headphones on that - if his hearing was still working right - was playing some very old Christmas music.

And even with all of that in front of him, the thing that struck Scrooge the most was the neatly wrapped present sitting on the mattress next to her. It even had a little bow on top...and a tag that had his name in clear, bold letters.

In all the shock and awe of the magical image in front of him, Scrooge lost his grip of the present he’d brought and it fell to the floor with a loud thump! He jumped an inch, but Goldie practically leaped into the air while simultaneously trying to detangle herself from the blanket bundle and get her headphones off so she could figure out what was going on.

When they finally locked eyes, she had her headphone cord wrapped around her neck and through her hair, two of the blankets were still covering half her arms, and her hair was sticking up in every other direction.

He thought she looked absolutely beautiful and gave her a simple smile.

“S…” she started with a stutter that he didn’t expect. “...are...are you really here? Or am I hallucinating from the cold?”

Scrooge smiled even wider. “I’m here.”

“Ah.”

He thought she was going to continue her thought, but instead Goldie’s face just turned a bright red and she kicked her leg back, knocking the present off of the bed and out of Scrooge’s view. Then she stood up with a surprising amount of grace (all things considered), shimmied her way out of the blankets, and ripped the headphones off of herself and threw them behind her. She then started to retie her hair, flattening the top of it without saying a word.

“So…” Scrooge finally broke the silence, realizing she didn’t want to talk about what he just walked in on. “...what’re you doin’ here, Goldie?”

She was still tying her hair back into her favorite ponytail when he spoke, but his words made her lose concentration and her scrunchie slid down her hand - shooting off towards Scrooge like a rogue rubber band. He caught it with ease and closed his fist around it.

Goldie sighed and let her hair fall down along her back. “...just...celebrating Christmas. What else?”

He finally moved from his spot at the door and took one of her hands in his, gently placing the hair scrunchie back into her palm. “You celebrate Christmas here?”

She turned to him and stared down at the fabric in her hand. “...sometimes.”

“Why?” he asked quietly, leaning his face closer to hers.

Goldie still wasn’t looking at him. “...where else would I go?”

Scrooge lifted up a hand and placed it against her cheek. “How long have you been coming here? You could’ve told me. I...I would’ve -”

She shook her head and shoved him away from her. “It’s not-! I...I didn’t want you to be here! It’s just that I don’t have any family so it’s...it’s comfortable for me!”

He rolled his eyes at her obvious lying and took a moment before suddenly shoving her - with Goldie caught so off-guard, she fell back onto the bed with a loud oomf! and Scrooge crawled past her without any trouble. He ignored the creaking of his old bones as he grabbed the present she’d kicked off the bed before and quickly stood up and looked at it.

“Hey!” Goldie shouted, the deep blush on her cheeks growing darker by the minute. She followed him and tried to grab the gift out of his hands, but Scrooge held it high above his head so she couldn’t get to it. She practically growled as she tried to reach it and Scrooge responded by placing his free hand on the side of her face and pulling her in for a kiss.

Goldie quieted down immediately and melted into it, letting her hands rest on his shoulders.

Scrooge felt a small bit of sympathy for how embarrassed she was...very small. It wasn’t like she hadn’t teased him for his sentimentality a million times over the years, and he was going to enjoy this moment for decades and decades to come.

As soon as the kiss ended, Scrooge shoved her again - letting Goldie fall back onto the bed once more so he could focus on the present. This time she took the hint and stayed seated, huffing out a shaky breath and crossing her arms over her chest. She almost looked like she was going to leave right then and there.

He walked back to the mattress and took a seat next to her, still holding the wrapped box in his hand. It was small and there wasn’t much weight to it at all. He noticed her staring down at her lap and put the box down on the bed between them. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think she was tearing up.

“I won’t open it if it’d really bother you that much.”

Goldie let out a short, harsh chuckle and wiped the back of her hand against her eyes. Scrooge had seen her cry before - very few times, and it was usually followed by her walking out of the room - but this felt different somehow.

“...no,” Goldie finally said with a scoff. “You should.”

His curiosity got the better of him and Scrooge grabbed it again, quickly tugging off the bow and placing the ribbon beside him. He tore the paper neatly and lifted the lid of the box, raising an eyebrow in confusion when he saw what was inside.

He reached two fingers into the box and grabbed it, holding it in front of his face. “...a key?”

“Mmhmm,” Goldie hummed, staring at the object in his hand.

Scrooge frowned and continued inspecting it. It looked very old, and worn...it was an unusual shape and seemed to be made of brass. “A key to where?”

She shuffled around a bit and nervously tugged at some of her hair. Scrooge thought she looked adorable, but the shyness was definitely leaving him more confused.

“...to me.”

“To...you,” Scrooge repeated, not sure he heard right.

Goldie shrugged her shoulders and spun one of her hands around while she spoke. “Stick the key into any door and when you open it, it’ll lead to wherever I am. So if you need my help with something or you...just want to see me...or whatever. You don’t have to ever use it. But it’s yours if you want it.”

There was a tinge of pink on Scrooge’s own cheeks - though it didn’t compare to Goldie’s - and he looked down at the key again. “That’s...is this...one of the Lemurian Anomaly Keys?”

She nodded and hummed in confirmation.

“And you’re givin’ it to me? Just like that?” Scrooge sounded shocked, but he had the biggest smile on his face and was one hundred percent ready to kiss her again.

Goldie shrugged. “It only works with the matching key…” She pointed at a bag on the floor that Scrooge hadn’t noticed before. “...so it’s not much use just for me.”

He reached over and grabbed her face again, tugging her to him for another quick kiss. “Goldie, dear, when did you find this? It’s amazin’.”

She laid her forehead down on his shoulder and sighed. “...1977.”

Scrooge froze for a second before grabbing her shoulders and shoving her upright in front of him. “Did I hear you right? 1977? Why are you only just giving it to me now?”

“It’s...I just…” Goldie swatted his hands and turned around. “I...I don’t know, Scrooge. I just...I didn’t want to just give it to you. I wanted you to...come get it.”

“How could I come get it if I didn’t even know you were here?” Scrooge asked genuinely, feeling a little frustrated thinking of the number of times he could’ve used her gift to get out of sticky situations or bring her on adventures with him. “We havenae spent Christmas Eve together since 1897! I couldnae have…”

He stopped talking as she stood up and walked towards the window, hugging herself.

“...Goldie?”

“I knew you didn’t remember. I knew it and I still came here anyway,” Goldie spit out with a bitter, cold laugh. She turned around and glared at him, feeling an indignant heat in her chest. “You told me...you told me on December 18th, 1966 that you wanted to spend Christmas with me, in this cabin - just the two of us. That’s what you said to me!”

Scrooge gulped. She was right, he didn’t remember that.

She glared down at the floor. “And I was dumb enough to think you really meant it. So I came here.”

Guilt washed over him. “...you’ve been comin’ here every year since 1966?”

Goldie huffed and ground her teeth for a moment before reaching down and grabbing her bag from earlier and throwing it right at Scrooge’s head. “Yes, alright?! And I’ve felt like an idiot every Christmas for over fifty years and now you’ve made it even worse!”

He dodged the bag and let out a frustrated sigh, knowing the signs of an inconsolable Goldie and deciding that, for once, he was going to stay and see what he could do. As she was reaching around for another thing to throw at him, Scrooge took one of her blankets from earlier and attacked her with it - wrapping the thick fabric around her and holding it in place with a bear hug, then bringing her back down onto the bed with him.

She struggled against his arms, but Scrooge just held her in place and thought about ways to calm her down.

“Goldie, I’m sorry,” Scrooge said quietly, the apology feeling foreign on his tongue. “I didnae know! You never said anythin’! Even when you came to my Christmas party you didnae say anythin’…”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes, blinking so rapidly it almost seemed like she was trying to stop herself from tearing up again.

“Cause I knew you weren’t serious about it!” she yelled out, her voice muffled by the blanket. “The only thing more humiliating than you finding out that I’d already spent twenty Christmases waiting up for you...is this nightmare I’m currently trapped in.”

Scrooge felt her struggling stop and loosened his grip around her. “Goldie…” He moved away, watching the blanket crumple around her as she laid back down on her back and splayed her arms around herself. “...I’m here now. Isn’t that worth somethin’?”

She scoffed again. “Not particularly.”

He leaned down and hovered over her, his beak not even an inch away from her’s. “I’d like to make it worth somethin’...” he whispered as he leaned down to kiss her again.

Before he could, however, Goldie shoved him back again. “Wait...why are you here?” she finally asked.

Scrooge frowned and leaned back so he was sitting upright again. “I, uh...Claus recruited me to help deliver presents.”

The attention coming off of her shame brought Goldie back to life a bit and she sat back up to stare at him. “Excuse me? Claus, like...Santa Claus? Your so-called nemesis?”

“The one and the same.”

“...wait, but there’s no one here on the Nice List,” Goldie said with a smirk and a sniff. “So why’d you come here?”

“To be perfectly honest, I’m not sure,” Scrooge said with a frown, hoping that wouldn’t upset Goldie even more than she already was. “I suppose Claus thought it’d be a good idea to meddle in my affairs. But he told me to bring the last gift in here, so I did.”

Goldie didn’t react to his confession, seemingly over it already, and looked over towards the door. “Is that my gift?” she asked, pointing at the sad-looking box laying on the ground.

Scrooge followed her line of sight and smiled sheepishly. “Y-yes, well...it’s not exactly…”

She hopped over the bed and quickly grabbed it, tearing off the bow and paper without hesitation and ripping off the lid, leaving a mess of paper all over the room. Scrooge had an unshakeable urge to clean up the mess before remembering that he didn’t live there anymore.

Goldie pulled the small chunk of coal out of her box and stared at it for a second before letting out another laugh - this time it was more genuine and less terrifying. “Yeah, of course. This makes sense.”

Scrooge rubbed the back of his neck. “I, um...that may not be the present he meant for me to give you.”

She looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. “What do you mean? Did you swap out all the real gifts for coal so you could prove some dumb point about heat being better than toys?”

“Um…” Scrooge tapped his fingers against the cold blanket on his lap. “...yes?”

“Of course you did,” Goldie said with a sigh, dropping the coal back into the box. She took a moment to let out one last short, breathy laugh and then turned to the duck in front of her. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

Scrooge scoffed and held his new key up in front of him. “And yet, you want me to come see you anytime and anywhere, hm?”

Goldie didn’t respond for a few moments as she walked back over to the bed, taking a seat next to him again. “...yeah, I guess I do.”

Overwhelmed with happiness, Scrooge placed a hand under her beak and tugged her face upwards so they could lock eyes once again. Goldie responded in kind, leaning forward to kiss him and quickly wrapping her arms around his neck.

They stayed like that for a minute, just enjoying one another’s company, when Goldie finally pulled away and patted him on the cheek. “So...if this was your last stop, any chance you’d stay the night?”

He smiled and put one of his hands on top of hers. “Eh...Claus and Webbigail have probably figured out my coal plan by now...I should go take care of that.”

“Hmm…” Goldie hummed, thinking about kissing him again. “Come back when you’re done?”

Scrooge thought about that for a moment before reaching down with both hands and lifting her into his arms, bridal-style. Goldie squeaked and squeezed his shoulders. “I think it’d make more sense for you to just come with us!”

Goldie laughed. “You’re going to hurt yourself, hun.”

“Oh, I know.” Scrooge’s back cracked as he turned them around and took a step away from the bed. “But it’s worth it.”

His arms started to shake a bit and Goldie forced him to put her down, smiling as he struggled. She looked from the bed to her bag and back to Scrooge’s eager face.

“...alright,” Goldie answered finally. “But don’t expect me to stay for breakfast, I am not dealing with a bunch of excited kids that early in the morning.”

Scrooge kissed her again and squeezed her hand. “And I’d never expect you to.”

#ducktales #scroldie #scrooge mcduck #goldie o'gilt #how santa stole christmas #fic #fics #scottsgirloducktalelovero #carro answers

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qandnoablog · 6 years

Text

War (Marvel Imagine)

Title: Discovered

Pairing: [In Progress]

Warnings: Based on the movie - Captain America: Civil War

Part: 7, [6], [5], [4], [3], [2], [1]

Key: Y/N - Your Name

Word Count: 4,709

Summary: [Y/N] takes part in a battle she never even dreamed possible. She knew the Avengers team always had their differences, but never did she think they could fight one another to this extent. Not only that, but she’s now a part of it.

Note From Author: Thank you to everyone that patiently waits for these updates! I’m still nowhere on a pairing, but hopefully the storyline is captivating enough so that it isn’t an issue. Thanks again for reading and any comments are welcome!

Part 7 - War

This is so wrong… [Y/N] thought as she watched Stark and his friends gang up against Steve. Why is this team always so broken… She sighed to herself as she impatiently waited for the Captain’s signal and silently observed the scene that unfolded.

“Alright,” Stark declared, “I’ve run out of patience.” He brought his hands up to his face and yelled out, “Underoos!”

At that, something white shot out and clung to Cap’s shield. A red and blue figure leaped out and snatched the weapon away while simultaneously tying up the Captain’s hands together. The person landed on the small vehicle close to Stark and the others, his costume reminding [Y/N] of a spider. It was then that she realized the material that tied up Captain America’s hands looked an awful lot like the webbing of an arachnid.

“Nice job kid,” Tony said.

“Thanks!” The spider-person exclaimed, “Well, I could have stuck the landing a little better. It’s just a new suit- Wait it’s nothing, Mr. Stark. It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Yeah, we don’t really need to start a conversation,” Tony interrupted the stranger’s rambling.

“Okay,” he replied a bit out of breath and then turned back to Cap, “C-Cap-Captain,” he saluted, “Big fan. I’m Spider-Man.”

[Y/N] tried to suppress a smile, his stuttering speech reminding her slightly of Ant-Man’s earlier star-struck attitude with Captain America. He sounds young… Actually, she couldn’t help but think he sounded very familiar. Did she know this kid behind the mask?

“We found it,” Sam said through the earpiece, shaking [Y/N] from her thoughts, “The Quinjet’s in hanger five, North Runway.”

That was the cue.

Captain America lifted his bound hands in the air and an arrow whistled past as it accurately sliced through the webbing. Iron Man turned his back to Steve, his helmet locking in place over his head, as he surveyed where the arrow was shot from.

“All right, Lang,” Captain America mumbled into the comms.

With that comment, Ant-Man jumped off the shield and grew in size as he kicked the unsuspecting Spider-Man, stealing back the Captain’s shield.

“I believe this is yours, Captain America,” he announced, handing back the weapon to its rightful owner.

Peaceful negotiations were over. Everyone began to run around as they each had their own objective. They all had their own battles to face - except her. [Y/N]’s primary objective was to get to the jet without being detected. It was the perfect job for her since her powers allowed her to erase her presence almost completely. Even computers had a hard time keeping track of her movements, so long as she didn’t lose concentration.

“What the hell is that?” Bucky’s voice questioned through the ear piece as [Y/N] ran through the terminal towards where the Winter Soldier and the Falcon were headed.

“Everyone’s got a gimmick now,” Sam grunted.

Then she heard the sound of glass shattering and Sam yelling. She could faintly hear that familiar kid voice that she now identified as Spider-Man. He sounded rather excited, complimenting Bucky’s metal arm, which seemed like an odd thing to be talking about during a heated battle. In fact, talking at all in battle was rather odd.

Gotta hurry, gotta hurry, gotta hurry! [Y/N] chanted in her head as the air continuously shifted around her to hide her from sight. She was nearing the two’s location and could faintly make out their skirmish through the broken glass windows.

“This might be a bad time to bring this up,” she began, a bit out of breath, “but I have no idea where the hanger that Sam mentioned is.”

“Just follow Bucky and Sam!” Cap huffed out as he struggled with the whoever was attacking him this time.

“Roger that, Cap!” [Y/N] answered and propelled herself upwards through the broken glass opening. The only problem was… The two were a bit preoccupied with a certain spider to actually get anywhere.

I guess I should help them out… [Y/N] sighed internally as she rushed off after the three. She was just in time to see Falcon struggling with the kid when Bucky hurtled something at the spider.

“Oh, God,” Spider-Man gasped as he turned just in time to dodge the oncoming projectile.

Bucky ducked away behind a pillar, both of her teammates oblivious to her presence, when she noticed Spider-Man going off to pick up the broken panel that the Winter Soldier had just thrown at him.

“Hey, buddy!” the kid called out, as Bucky turned to see his enemy, “I think you lost this!”

“Bucky, look out!” [Y/N] cried out as the object hurtled through the air towards him. The energy that surrounding her dissipated as she let go of the veil she used to cover herself and instead focused her power towards the broken panel. With a strong push, she knocked the object out of the air and away from where Bucky stood.

Spider-Man’s mask eyes widened when he saw [Y/N] appear out of nowhere while Bucky nodded in gratitude in her direction. She nodded back at him as her energy shifted again and she was once more gone from sight.

“Wait, you’re-!” Spider-Man began but he was unable to finish. Falcon had used the opportunity to charge into the boy, making him fall from his perch he stood upon.

Thinking fast, the spider shot out more webbing, lifting himself from under Falcon, and then shot out more at Sam’s wings. His wings retracted involuntarily as he propelled downwards towards the floor.

Letting go of her invisibility a second time, [Y/N] wrapped Sam with her energy and absorbed his fall just before he crashed into a cell phone stand. The glass shattered and the construct caved in on impact, but thankfully Sam was unfazed.

“Thanks,” Sam said as he got up from the floor, wiping off the glass that clung to his clothes.

[Y/N] just smiled as she quickly disappeared before Spider-Man could get another good look at her.

However, the moment was short-lived as the spider took this moment to shoot out webbing at both of Sam’s hands, pinning him to the railing. The kid then landed sideways on one of the airport’s infrastructure, perfectly sticking onto the flat surface of metal and plastic.

“Those wings carbon fiber?” he asked, genuinely curious on the material of the Falcon’s wings.

“Is this stuff coming out of you?” Sam shot back with a question of his own, a disgusted look plastered on his face. It was touching his bare skin, so of course he would be grossed out if those webbings were indeed coming out of this stranger’s body.

“That would explain the-” Spider-Man went into a scientific jargon as he geeked out over the material of the wings and its mechanisms, ignoring Sam’s question. Half of the things he said went over [Y/N]’s head as she tried to grasp what the point was in his long dialogue. “...Gotta say, that’s awesome.”

“I don’t know if you’ve been in a fight before, but there’s usually not this much talking,” Sam advised, getting slightly annoyed by the kid’s constant chatter. Bucky took this distraction as an opportunity and silently rushed towards the two, but the kid’s next move made [Y/N] dodge for cover.

“Sorry, my bad,” he apologized to Sam, leaping off and swinging into both Bucky and Sam, barely missing [Y/N] as she hurriedly got out of the way. Her teammates, on the other hand, were not that lucky and broke through the railing, tumbling down towards the floor below.

“Crap!” [Y/N] let escape as she hurried over to her falling team.

In that brief moment where she flickered in-and-out of focus from losing concentration, something flew at her. Reacting too late, her wrist was forced onto the railing with a sharp enough force that made her yelp in pain. Sticky, white webbing had pinned her down, restricting her movements.

Grabbing the webbing with her free hand, she ignored the goosebumps that made their way up her arm and tugged. It didn’t budge and shivers went up her spine the more she analyzed the web.

Ugh… This looks so real! It feels real… God, I hate spider webs! [Y/N] cursed as she continued to struggle against the material but it was much tougher than it looked.

After the spider finished taking care of Sam and Bucky, he turned to [Y/N] as she uneasily tried to back away as far as possible against the webbing. Her wrist protested against her persistent pulling, but she needed some distance so she could calm down. The pain of her arm twisting against the web, Spider-Man inching towards her, her friends on the ground in whatever state the spider had left them, all of those factors were starting to make her panic. Feeling trapped was not helping. However, the next thing Spider-Man said surprised her.

“Oh, my God… It is you…”

“What?” [Y/N] asked, stopping her insistent struggles. Still, she cautiously readied her energy within her. It coiled around her, parts of her body already vanishing, but the kid just stood there, not making a move against her.

“It’s really you!” The kid exclaimed as he jumped up towards her. That made her flinch back, more of her disappearing from sight. “W-wait!” He stuttered, lifting up his hands to show he was not going to hurt her, “You might not recognize me with this on,” he said while pointing at his mask, “but I’ve been hoping I could meet you again!”

[Y/N] did feel as though she had met this person before, but nothing really seemed to click. Her curiosity got the best of her and the energy she had used to vanish slowly disperse into the air. Though his face was covered by a mask, he looked relieved to [Y/N] when he saw that she was willing to listen.

“I’m really sorry-” He began, as he reached out his hand, but something latched onto his arm and yanked him into the air. He yelled in surprise as the object flew straight through the window, taking the mysterious kid with him in a matter of seconds. Spider-Man collided hard into the metal that held the window together, the flying thing letting him go as he fell to the ground. [Y/N] just stood there, stunned.

“You couldn’t have done that earlier?” Bucky moaned as he lay on the floor, exhausted.

Hearing his voice, she snapped out of it and willed her power into the material that surrounded her wrist. The webbing that had plastered her onto the railing snapped away, the energy that [Y/N] forced into the thin lining being too much for it to take. When she was free, she rotated her wrist and rubbed at the stiff muscles. Finding no injuries beside some minor bruising, [Y/N] made her way back to the two stuck to the ground.

“I hate you,” Sam grumbled.

“Need a little help?” [Y/N] laughed, pushing aside the disappointment of not knowing how Spider-Man had known her. That matter can be put on hold for another day.

“That’d be great, thanks!” Sam called up as he stopped struggling against the webbing and relaxed.

“Jeez, what would you boys do without me?” She chuckled as she sent out her energy to snap the strange material off of her fellow teammates.

The whole team joined together as they raced towards the jet. [Y/N] followed behind them, invisible to the rest, but still very present. Bucky and Sam knew she was among them, though they had no idea where, while the others could only assume that she was.

Everyone stopped advancing, however, when Vision made an appearance, his beam breaking into the cement as if to draw a line of where they were not allowed to pass. He floated above their heads and while their attention fell to the android, but [Y/N] snuck around them all and continued on foot towards the Quinjet. That was her mission after all.

“Captain Rogers!” Vision called down, oblivious that one person had slipped past, “I know you believe what you’re doing is right. But for the collective good, you must surrender now.”

Iron Man’s team all gathered as well, jumping down from all directions to join Vision. Since no one knew [Y/N] was there, she nearly collided with the new king of Wakanda when he suddenly fell from the sky and landed next to Stark. She bit her lip, trying not to let the surprise in her voice escape, as she froze mere inches from him.

She held her breath as she slowly backed away from the man dressed like a black panther, and took her time going around him. Her powers prevented people from seeing her and erased her presence, but they didn’t make her invincible. If he had just clawed the air in front of him, blood would surely have been shed.

Only when she was a few feet away from both groups did she finally sprint to her destination. The jet was so close, but there was one tiny problem. She couldn’t fly the contraption. In fact, she didn’t even know how to open it to get inside.

“Cap, we have another problem,” [Y/N] groaned as the fight turned full swing behind her.

“A bit busy!” He grunted back.

“Who are you talking to?” [Y/N] heard Iron Man’s voice question through Cap’s comms. That could only mean they were fighting each other.

“I’m at the Quinjet bu-”

“Talk later!” He interrupted, a bit distracted by the onslaught of attacks.

“Seriously, who are you talking to?” Tony yelled, “We’re all-”

“I can’t open the jet, Steve, let alone fly the damn thing!” [Y/N] shouted over the sound of Stark’s voice, but then she realized that Cap could hear her perfectly fine, “Oops, sorry.”

“Wait for us there,” was all he said back.

She turned towards the fight, eyeing all the destruction of their skirmish, and leaned back on the cool metal of the Quinjet. [Y/N] looked up at the vehicle and sighed. Great… Just great.

“We gotta go,” Bucky whispered, [Y/N] quietly listening in through the earpiece. There wasn’t really much else for her to do. “That guy’s probably in Siberia by now.”

“We gotta draw out the fliers,” Cap replied, a bit out of breath, “I’ll take Vision. You get to the jet.”

“You know I could occupy them too. Just let me fight and-” [Y/N] began but the Captain quickly cut her off.

“You’re staying hidden, [Y/N].”

“I can fight too, Steve!” She protested. It wasn’t like she was aching to fight, especially not those she considered her friends, but anything was better than uselessly waiting alone by the carrier. Hearing everyone actually doing something while she just sat near the carrier was a bit humiliating.

“I’ll take Vision. You get to the jet,” Cap instructed, ignoring her complaints.

“No,” Sam countered, raising his voice to be heard over the wind, “You get to the jet. Both of you! The rest of us aren’t getting out of here.”

“As much as I hate to admit it,” Clint added, “if we’re gonna win this one, some of us might have to lose it.”

“This isn’t the real fight, Steve!”

“Alright, Sam. What’s the play?” Cap conceded.

“We need a diversion! Something big!”

“I could-”

“Someone else!” Steve cut [Y/N] off again. He was really starting to piss her off.

“I got something kinda big,” Scott finally joined in, “but I can’t hold it very long. On my signal, run like hell. And if I tear myself in half… Don’t come back for me.”

In a matter of seconds, metal creaking and breaking could be heard from where [Y/N] waited. She grew curious as more sounds of destruction crashed right outside, but she balled up her hands into a fist, her nails digging into her gloves, and continued to wait.

There better be a pretty good reason why I have to wait here and do nothing, Steve, [Y/N] warned her friend internally as she stewed in her own impatience, Even Scott is out there doing something and-

“[Y/N]?”

A familiar voice startled her out of her thoughts as she quickly turned to find its source. Natasha Romanoff, aka. Black Widow. The second Avenger she had ever met. The ex-assassin. A great friend and a terrifying enemy. And right now, they weren’t really on speaking terms.

“Um…” [Y/N]’s throat felt incredibly dry and she couldn’t even muster up enough courage to actually say anything.

I just had to ask for something to do, didn’t I? Why does the universe hate me?

Her calculating gaze didn’t falter as the two just stared at one another. [Y/N] knew that whatever was going through that woman’s head was something she couldn’t even begin to comprehend. So much experience and training was imbedded into every fiber of Natasha’s being. How could she even begin to match up to this agent?

“N-” [Y/N] began, but Romanoff put a finger to her lips. She wisely did as Natasha instructed, noticing her eyes softening. For some reason, [Y/N] felt like she wouldn’t be battling this person. She didn’t know why, but Natasha wasn’t going to fight her.

Then, two figures finally made their way towards her. She nearly sagged in relief, but the joy was short-lived as a sudden ray of light shot out at the tall structure that towered over the approaching men.

“Steve! Bucky!” [Y/N] shouted as she thoughtlessly tried to block Vision’s ray from completely toppling the structure over.

“Don’t!” Natasha yelled, but she was too late.

The pain of blocking a power that defied all logic seared into her scarred palms and she screamed out in agony. It was too much for her to bear and her barrier didn’t even hold for a second as Vision continued to bring the watchtower down.

“[Y/N]!” The two yelled almost simultaneously as they saw her crumple to the floor in pain, clutching her hands close to her chest as if to cradle them from further damage.

The building finally fell, but before it could block their path, a red energy stretched out and blocked it from completely toppling over. Wanda grunted with effort as she held onto the heavy tower, helping out her friends so that they could achieve their mission.

Just as [Y/N] was finally coming back to her senses, the pain in her palms dulling considerably, Wanda screamed and her hold on the structure vanished. In that split moment, [Y/N] ignored the throbbing that cut into her flesh and sent out her own energy to take over Wanda’s job. Still, she was not as powerful as Wanda, who got her powers from the infinity stone embedded in Vision’s head. It was too heavy for her to hold for long.

“Hurry!” [Y/N] cried as beads of sweat dripped down her face.

The two finally made it in, but they were too distracted with [Y/N]’s predicament that they had missed the other person waiting for them in the room. Natasha sauntered over to the two men, gently squeezing [Y/N]’s shoulder as she passed by.

“Stay down,” she told [Y/N], almost in a whisper, as she looked back toward the two super soldiers. “You’re not going to stop.”

“You know I can’t,” Steve replied.

“I’m gonna regret this,” Natasha sighed as she pointed her weapon at the men. Before any of them could make a move, she shifted her aim and in an instant, the Black Panther was brought down to his knees. Powerful electricity pulsed into the king as he crumpled to the floor.

“Go,” she advised her friend, who nodded in appreciation and jogged towards the jet.

As the two made their way over to the vehicle, Bucky reached out and grabbed [Y/N]’s hand, pulling her with them towards the carrier. She choked back the pain, her eyes watering slightly, as a small burst of her powers forced Bucky’s hand off of hers. It wasn’t enough to hurt him, but it was clear that a normal person’s hand would go numb from the amount of power she involuntarily used. [Y/N] quickly hid her hands behind her back before anyone knew what had happened. Both he and Steve stopped just for a moment, looking over at her with questioning eyes, but she just smiled that same smile back at the two of them. It had never failed her and she prayed it wouldn’t fail her today.

“Go,” she said as Natasha hit the king again with another volt of electricity, “I’ll stay behind. They might need me.”

Steve looked as though he wanted to protest, but [Y/N] turned her pleading eyes to Bucky. He hesitated, but then felt something strange and looked down at the hand that had grabbed her. The Winter Soldier immediately understood why she chose to stay, and nodded before dragging Steve aboard the ship.

The jet came to life as the two settled in their seats. It shot out at the remains of the fallen watchtower, moving away the bigger pieces that would hinder the jet from getting out. It was then that the Black Panther finally broke free of the taser Natasha continuously fired at him and leaped up to catch the plane before it could take off.

“Oh, no you don’t!” [Y/N] huffed as she knocked the king out of the air and back onto the ground. With that, it was too late for the panther to catch the Quinjet as it raced off into the open sky.

His face was covered by a sleek, black mask, but both Natasha and [Y/N] could feel his rage seeping out. He turned to [Y/N] but then brought his full attention onto the person who had betrayed his team.

“I said I’d help you find him, not catch him,” Natasha explained, holding her head up high, “There’s a difference.”

The two stared silently at one another as [Y/N] slowly brought her hands from behind her back, her arms shaking at the motion. She winced slightly and looked down at the blood soaked gloves. It was foolish of her to try and stop the full force of an infinity stone. All that raw power was unstoppable for a human such as herself. Blood dripped down onto the cement floor, seeping into the cracks, as she trembled just to keep standing. Bucky must have understood when he looked down at his own hand that was probably covered in her blood. He knew that if Steve had known, it would have ultimately hindered the entire mission, and she silently thanked Bucky for that.

“Shit,” [Y/N] laughed, more out of pain than out of joy, her consciousness slipping, “This really hurts.”

“Mom is going to kill me,” [Y/N] groaned as she glared up at the security cameras that surrounded the room.

When the government had taken the team and imprisoned them in the middle of the ocean, their medical division had struggled with the gloves that were sticking to the dried blood on the palms of [Y/N]’s hands. Rather than think of a solution to slip them off, they decided the fastest way was to cut them off entirely. Now, they were probably lying in the trash, all tattered up and useless.

“Those were from my mom, you know!”

“Hey, [Y/N],” Scott called from the other side of the cell, “Are you really fifty-years-old?”

“They were just joking,” Sam scoffed, “There’s no way she’s that old.”

“We might have been playing around,” Clint chuckled, “but I never lied.”

“I aged well, didn’t I?” [Y/N] smiled, though some of them couldn’t see that.

“That’s impossible,” Sam countered, “You’re just pulling our legs.”

“What’s your secret?” Scott questioned, his excitement seeping through the walls of the cage.

“I moisturize,” [Y/N] laughed, the others groaning at her playful comment.

Thankfully, since no one in the government even knew who exactly [Y/N] was to the Avengers, she was placed in a normal cell with the others. Wanda, on the other hand, had been taken to another, tighter cage since everyone knew of her powerful abilities. Due to the fact that there were no further restraints on [Y/N] she could have escaped by herself, but it was too risky. In addition, she didn’t want to break out if the others were unable to come with her. Instead, she decided to wait for an opportunity to present itself. She didn’t have to wait too long.

“But going back to the topic,” [Y/N] glared back up at the cameras, “you people owe me a new pair of gloves!”

A figure walked up to [Y/N]’s cell after her remark, making her glance to the side with a bored expression. The person before her, however, was not the usual prison guard she had expected and she jolted upright with a beaming smile plastered on her face.

“I’ll be sure to buy them for you once we get out of here,” Steve chuckled, helping her out of her cramped cell.

The others were already stretching out their limbs as they enjoyed their new freedom. Wanda was also amongst them, her pale face turning brighter at seeing [Y/N] again. Before long, they filed out of the room and out into the open, basking in the rays of the sun and smiling to the cool ocean breeze.

“Hey, Captain America,” she began, grinning mischievously, “now that you’re a wanted fugitive, are you going to change your name?”

“No,” he smiled with the air of a leader, “because that name doesn’t represent the American government. It represents the American people. And I am loyal to nothing but the American dream.” [Check Author’s Note at the bottom]

“Alright, Cap,” [Y/N] nodded, the unexpectedly serious answer warming her heart, “Where to, now?”

“I’ll drop everyone off at where they all want to go,” he replied as everyone hurried into the jet Steve must have driven to get here. “I’m guessing you want to go home?”

[Y/N] shook her head, surprising most of the crew as she looked over the ocean with a sad smile.

“I knew the moment Clint came for me that a normal life was not something I could have anymore,” [Y/N] sighed, her mind drifting to the letter she had hid in her room for just this occasion. Eventually, her family would find it and hopefully… They’d understand.

“[Y/N],” Clint spoke up, looking guilty for dragging her away, but she held up her bandaged hand to stop him.

“It’s not your fault,” she soothed, “If not you, then someone else would have asked for my help.” She paused, taking in a breath and finally putting to words the feelings she held and could never deny. “And I would have gone without another thought. That’s just how I am.”

“Is there any place you’d like to go?” Steve gently asked, “I hear Wakanda’s a nice place if you’re interested.”

“Doesn’t the King of Wakanda kind of hate you for foiling his plan for revenge against Bucky?”

“A lot has happened since then.”

“Hmm…”

She was a bit curious, but her ambition was lost and she felt a bit depleted. There was no goal she could strive for, so motivation was hard to find. There was no family, hidden and safe, that she could return to, like Hawkeye. She didn’t have the never-ending loyalty towards the American people, like Captain America. And she wasn’t all that sure she could keep up with him, like Falcon, if she were to follow under the Captain’s command. In fact, it took most of her energy just smiling to reassure her fellow teammates that she was alright.

Where do I want to go? What do I want to do?

“Thank you for the offer, Steve,” [Y/N] finally answered, a particular spider flashing across her mind, “but there’s someone I’d like to meet before I leave.”

Author’s Note: The quote above is a mix of two Captain America quotes from the comics :) "I cannot represent the American government; the president does that. I must represent the American people. I represent the American dream, the freedom to strive to become all that you dream of being. Being Captain America has been my American dream.” - Captain America #180 "I'm loyal to nothing, General, except the dream." - Daredevil: Born Again

[PART 8]

Tags: @themeanestlittlewitch @stressedandbandobessed7771 @moistpotatobear

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imaginekpoplikethis · 7 years

Text

Mixing It Up - Troubkemaker! Min Yoongi X Reader - Part 9

Hi so I’m going to leave this here cause I’m so tired and writers block is my worst enemy

Sorry guys 😭

I think I’m going to wrap this up in the next few parts (possibility two)

Preview Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 - Here Part 10 Part 11 - Final

Yoongi had successfully followed you home that night to your dismay. When your mother stopped her task at hand to greet you, the shock on her face caused you to groan. Yoongi’s introduction didn’t help the situation at all. Thinking about what he said and how calmly he said it still brought heat to your face.

“Hello, my name’s Min Yoongi and I’m your daughters soon to be boyfriend. Nice to meet you.”

He didn’t bother with a smile, just his neutral straight face. That didn’t seem to phase your mother who all but sprinted to the door, analysing your guest.

“Soon to be? Boyfriend?! Y/N, why have you not told me about this sooner?! Were you waiting until you started dating to tell me? I thought we were closer than that!”

At this exact moment, your older brother happened to make his way down the stairs clad in a similar tracksuit to Yoongi.

“Hey, do you know where the toilet plunger is? I kind of clogged up the toil...et.”

You wanted to smack his head against the wall. How embarrassing can one individual be? Scratch that. Why is he even here?

“Oh my gosh, shut up B/N! Why the heck are you here!? You’re supposed to be in college!”

He looked offended, even going as far as to place a hand to his chest and make a shocked face.

“Hey, you punk... who do you think you’re talking to? Your older brother happens to be really sick, you shouldn’t be treating me like this.”

He made his way towards you and wrapped an arm around your neck, effectively trapping you in a headlock.

“And who is this kid?”

He nodded his head in Yoongi’s direction, causing said boy to raise an eyebrow.

“I’m your sisters boyfriend.” You had been scratching at your brothers arms, attempting to free yourself when his words made you cease your actions. You and your brother simultaneously shrieked, you in horror and your brother in disbelief. Forcefully ripping his arm off of you, you turned to Yoongi with wide eyes.

“Yoongi, what the fu-“

“You’re dating my sister?! Are you out of your mind!?”

You snapped your head back towards your brother, shooting a dark glare at him.

“What is that supposed to mean!?”

A hand suddenly gripped your forearm, pulling you towards a body. Looking up, you came face to face with none other than Yoongi and his smirk.

He proceeded to wrap an arm around your shoulders, forcing you to turn and face your mother and brother.

“I’ll take care of her, don’t worry.”

Your mother had no expression on her face. Your brother on the other hand looked as if he had received all the answers to the worlds secrets.

“He’s not my boyfriend, he’s just kidding.”

“Okay, maybe not yet but I do want to be. I’m not going to deny that.”

“I approve.”

Your eyes grew as wide as saucers at the words that rolled of your mothers tongue.

“Aren’t you supposed to be against this!?”

“Yoongi seems like a nice boy and you two definitely go well together. If anything, the only one who has a problem with this seems to be you.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Was this really your mother? The same strict mother you had grown up with? Surely not.

“Is dating me really that bad?”

Yoongi had an eyebrow raised, anticipating your answer and you stuttered over your words.

“N-No! Yes! I- uh... maybe?”

He simply grinned at you, understanding how you actually felt.

It was now exactly a week after said incident and you had not visited Yoongi since. It wasn’t so much that you didn’t want to, you just happened to be so absorbed with your task of catching Mi-Rae.

“I know Yoongi knows something about this whole thing...”

Mumbling to yourself, you groaned and dropped your head to your desk, moaning in pain straight after.

“You’ll lose more brain cells if you do that and you need to save them. You lost enough as a kid.”

Your brothers deep voice travelled from your bedrooms doorway and your head snapped up to glare at him.

“What do you want? When are you going back to college?”

He entered your room fully and sat himself down on your bed, leaning against the wall.

“Soon. Anyway, I’m doing my job as an older brother. I’m here to talk about your boyfriend.”

Your straight face remained on your face at his words and he took this as his cue to go on.

“Listen, it’s cute that you got a boyfriend and all but don’t let him make you cry.”

You rolled your eyes, having some kind of idea where he was going with the conversation.

“Let me guess... or you’ll beat him up?”

His eyes widened and he blinked twice in confusion.

“What? No way! That’s way too much effort and time wasted. You’re my sister but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to give my precious time just because you can’t handle yourself.”

You should have known better. Your brother was the laziest person you had ever encountered. It was a wonder how he had gotten this far in life.

“Wow... how lucky am I to have a brother like you.”

The fact that you said this in monotone should have given away the fact that this was sarcasm but your brother had lived with you long enough to know how deal with it.

“I know right. Gosh, it’s a wonder why I don’t have a girlfriend right now. I’m so caring and handsome and smart and-“ As he began to list off all the traits he was not, he stood from your bed and exited the room, counting his fingers with each trait as he did so.

“He’s not blood related. That’s got to be the answer...”

How were you related to such a person?

The next day you entered school, you were approached by Yura during break. She had a small smile present on her face as she joined you and Suhyun.

“Hey Y/N. Hello... Suhyun?” At Suhyun’s smile she introduced herself before bringing up the topic of Mi-Rae.

“I heard you got Mi-Rae excluded. Honestly, I’m glad. But that’s not what I’m here to talk about. It’s about Yoongi’s past with Mi-Rae.”

Your eyes almost fell out of their sockets at Yura’s words and your heart suddenly clenched. Trying to disguise your sudden pain, you picked up your water bottle, nodding and taking a big gulp from it.

“It’s not what you think it is. Yoongi didn’t always attend our school. He only transferred almost three years ago. The thing is, Mi-Rae also attended his first school. I heard she managed to get him into serious trouble to the point where he was expelled and forced to move to another school. Our school.”

To think Yoongi and Mi-Rae had known each other for that long. You never would have guessed.

“Around a year later, her father became the principal and so she transferred to our school too. It was well known that Mi-Rae liked Yoongi despite what she put him through. Obviously, she tried to befriend him and Yoongi rejected her. This all happened in the lunch hall and so almost everyone had witnessed it. Mi-Rae must have been really humiliated since she stormed out and began to abuse her fathers power, probably trying to replace her ruined reputation with one of intimidation.”

Well, that certainly wasn’t a story you expected to hear today.

“Oh, but why are you telling me this?” Yura cast her gaze down towards the table.

“You’ve probably figured out that Yoongi isn’t telling you anything that might help you.”

You made eye contact with Suhyun, who nodded slowly and commented for you.

“Yeah, he seems to know a lot but doesn’t really say anything.”

Yura lifted her gaze up, sighing.

“It’s because he can’t. If he does, one word from Mi-Rae to her father and Yoongi’s kicked out of our school. With his reputation, I can guarantee you no other school will accept him. Basically, Mi-Rae can end Yoongi’s school life with a click of her fingers.”

Anger enveloped your body and you clenched your fists, glaring at nothing in particular.

“No wonder Yoongi is acting like that...”

Just as Yura opened her mouth to ask what you were talking about, the bell signalling the end of break rang and you jumped up fro your seat.

“I’ll see you later.”

Offering a tense smile to both girls, you headed straight for your classroom, Suhyun jogging to catch up.

Yoongi has been urging you to catch Mi-Rae because he himself can’t get involved. In other words, he wants you to help him get out of the situation Mi-Rae has put him in.

“You failed to tell me that you can’t get involved with this whole situation.”

You were currently walking home after school with Yoongi who had decided to wait at the gates for you. Suhyun had made the decision to stay behind in the library and work on an essay leaving you to walk alone with Yoongi. Surprisingly, he wasn’t wearing one of his many tracksuits and instead opted for some skinny jeans, a black t-shirt and a giant parka jacket.

“I didn’t need to. You were taking care of it anyway.” He shrugged his shoulders, an apathetic look on his face.

“What if I made one wrong choice? Then you would be out of school for good.”

You had reached the café you were so fond of and found yourself following Yoongi inside.

“I know you won’t. Besides, it’s almost over.”

That you could agree upon. With Mi-Rae consistently lying about her whereabouts on the day of the fire, you were sure to find some way to prove Yoongi innocent.

“Yeah but in all honesty I don’t know how to end this...”

Standing beside Yoongi in the line, you scanned the menu for today’s drink.

“What do you mean?”

At this point you had both reached the till and ordered your drinks, both being hot chocolates. Making your way over to the window seat you found yourself occupying quite a bit, you continued your conversation.

“I’ve managed to catch Mi-Rae in her lies but that’s about it. I don’t have any evidence tying her to the incident. In other words, I don’t know where to go from here.”

Yoongi sipped his drink, humming in understanding.

“I can’t really help you there either. I guess it’s all down to luck now...”

You hoped that wasn’t the case. You were not exactly the luckiest person.

“Yeah...”

After finishing your drinks and making small talk here and there, you parted ways with Yoongi and made your own way home.

Upon entering your house, you were immediately greeted with the sight of your older brother carrying an armful of snacks up the stairs. He was halfway up when your entrance stopped him, a look of shock flashing on his face.

“What are yo- is that my food!? I swear if you don’t get back down here I’m going to shove those crisps up your ass!”

Needless to say, you spent the next ten minutes wrestling your brother for food.

Another week flew by and you began to feel anxious. As usual, you had hit another dead end and no new progress had been made. If anything you were beginning to get fed up of feeling useless. Little did you know that that was all about to change.

It was when you were seated on your usual lunch table that everything took a sudden u-turn for the best. Suhyun came sprinting towards you, a grin present on her face.

“Someone stepped forward as a witness! They said Mi-Rae was the cause of the fire!”

You shot up out of your seat so fast you almost tumbled back onto the floor. The news was so sudden it almost seemed unrealistic.

“Who?!”

Suhyun waved her hand in dismissal.

“Some boy named Choi Beom. No one we know. Apparently, he’s one of those quiet kids, you know... the ones that just do work and don’t really bother with socialising. He said he couldn’t study properly in our school and wanted to return to his own. I guess he thinks the faster the culprit is caught, the faster they return back to their own school.”

A giant grin broke out onto your face and you had to refrain from shouting out in the lunch hall. No matter how happy you were you did not need everyone staring at you.

“That means-“

You were cut off when the vibration of your phone caught your attention. Right after, someone else’s phone went off along with another until the lunch hall was filled with phones buzzing.

“What’s going on?”

Suhyun’s eyebrows furrowed together when she too received a message and you both opened your phones, the unknown id piquing your curiosity.

Inside the message was a video that made your jaw, along with Suhyuns, drop.

“That’s Mi-Rae...”

Obviously, the fact that Mi-Rae was in the video wasn’t the reason for your shock but rather the fact that she was quite boldly setting alight fireworks in a classroom.

“That’s classroom 2-c!” The random shout from somewhere within the hall made you snap your head up.

If you recalled correctly, classroom 2-c was...

“That’s the classroom where the fire started!”

Another shout from another student caused the hall to erupt into conversation.

There it is. There’s your evidence.

The question is who sent it?

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blschaos3000-blog · 5 years

Text

Its 1:56 am cold/dark/leftovers

Welcome to “8 Questions with…….”

Yeooooow has my November lethargy been a wicked pisser this year. I am so far behind on everything but I’m going to catch up,I promise!!

I met our next guest,the fantastic Wyatt Terwilliger in a rather different manner. He and I met on Facebook in a horror movie group. As many of you know,while I am a huge horror fan,I’m not a torture porn fan and that topic came up in the group. Many “fans” love it is what I discovered in this group and when I politely pointed out that I didn’t,well,many were butt hurt and then I was out of that group….but I wasn’t alone in my stance as Wyatt joined in on my side before I left and after I was “kicked out”,I got a friend request and I accepted Wyatt’s invite. Since then I discovered that Wyatt is an extremely talented photographer and his pictures and composition is among the best I’ve ever seen. What really caught my attention was despite many of his photos featured beautiful models,they were almost an distraction because of the locations he uses for his shoots and the colors in his backgrounds. Just breathtaking and beautiful. The more I saw the stronger the urge was to ask my friend Wyatt if he wouldn’t mind doing this interview and and am quite stoked he said “Yes”. I do owe Wyatt an apology for this being posted so late and for being so patient. I really hope you really enjoy meeting Wyatt as he answers his 8 Questions…..

Please introduce yourself and tell us a little bit about yourself.

I’m Wyatt! I’m a Long Island NY photographer interested in creating images that are a little off center of the usual.

How old were you when you discovered photography? What was the first camera you ever owned?

If we’re talking the FIRST first time I discovered photography; I was 9 or 10, I discovered black and white film existed and became obsessed with shooting black and white and coloring parts in with photo markers.I didn’t really start doing the photo thing legitimately until about 4 years ago. I had kind of tired of all other creative outlets and had enough creative friends who had modeled in the past, that it made sense to collaborate.

How did you work to improve your technique? Do you perfer shooting with film or digital more and why?

I’m always trying to push beyond what I’ve done and try things I haven’t yet. I try not to let myself get comfortable, which I think forces me to get better. I study my own stuff a lot and find what I’ve done that I like, and try to fine tune those things. I would LOVE to shoot film but I’m living the starving artist life in a big way. Film is expensive! I shoot digital out of necessity. Maybe that’ll change in the future.

What kind of gear do you currently use? How do you get beautifully colored backgrounds?

I shoot on a Nikon D3200, it’s not a terribly fancy or advanced camera, but it’s getting the job done so far! I have a basic ring light I got off eBay that I use for indoor setups when possible. The color is all done in editing. I use photoshop and play with color, I find color to be infinitely fascinating. It brings so much to the photos. Enhances mood and feel, it changes so much about every image, I’m glad to see that people respond to it.

Which do you perfer shooting- indoor shots or outdoors? What are some of the pros and cons of each setting?

That’s tough. I love both for different reasons but I do really love being outside and exploring new places, there’s not a TON of variation in scenery on Long Island (where I shoot) but this has helped me find a lot of cool new spots I never would have discovered otherwise! Shooting outside is great because I also love to use natural light. Although I also like manipulating light with indoor shoots. I don’t know that I really enjoy one over the other!

Which is your favorite lense and why?

Currently I’m in love with the Sigma 50mm I’ve been using. It’s responsible for a lot of my best work.

You often will use nude models for your shoots. What do you do or say to your models to ensure a safe and comfortable session? Is there anything a model can do to protect herself from a scammer?

Everything is discussed beforehand. We discuss the shoot in as much detail as possible before getting on set, most importantly comfort levels and boundaries. This way I know where the model is at and what the shoot is going to entail. Comfort, trust and respect are absolutely key. A model should know what a shoot is going to involve long before she steps in front of the camera, and a photographer should know and respect their boundaries. As far as avoiding negative experiences with photographers, always, ALWAYS get references. If you do not know a photographer personally (and sometimes even then) speak to models they have shot with previously, ask about their behavior on and off set. Take a look at their social medias as well, see how they talk about models the shoot with. These can be good indicators.

Among your photos,which three are your favorites and why?

This is so hard to answer!

An image from a shoot I did with Betsy ( @betsoh ), who is a fantastic model, indoor shoot, very simple setup, just her and a bed with a white sheet. There’s an overhead shot, her on her stomach with her back to us. It’s one of my absolute favorites. The way the shadows fell on her, the contrast of her against the color of the sheet. The angle I lucked into. I think it’s got a really cool vibe. I have a shot with Vivian (@vivian_haze95 ) with her draped in a bright red, sheer fabric. She’s tucked into a vibrant green backdrop of flowers and foliage, it’s such a striking image. The bright red against the green, and her body language is so great. I’m really proud of that one. Another I’m really proud of is from a shibari shoot with Niki (@orisha.realness) The shoot itself was one of the best and coolest I’ve gotten to be a part of. There was the model, and the man tying the ropes. I expected to get cool shots of the various ties and knots and harnesses he would be tying, but quickly realized the shoot lied in the process, which was delicate and intricate. It was also a really cool display and exercise in consent. The relationship between the two, while binding and being bound, is all about consent and communication. There is a shot from this shoot, it’s a fairly simple profile portrait, the rigger (person who ties ropes) has his hand on the models chest, there is an orange light that fades into pale blue/grey on the wall behind them, the contrast of their skin tones, Niki also has super cool hair, which adds a little pop of purple to the top left corner of the image. I think it’s a really powerful shot. That might be all time favorite image I’ve ever been a part of creating.

Which photographers have influenced you the most in the way you take your pictures?

Right now my biggest influences are Moss Von Faustenberg, who was the first photographer I saw use color in the way that I’m so in love with (and employ myself). His images are as close to perfect as possible, Every. Single. Time. Harris Nukem is just absurdly talented and can make absolutely anything infinite’s interesting to look at. The way he photographs humans is just brilliant. Christopher McKenney creates images that are simultaneously absolutely gorgeous and haunting all at once. Wildly talented photographer. Film is also a MAJOR influence on me and my art. A few films (and their respective directors and cinematographers) that have had the most influence include

Mandy (2018)

The Strange Color of Your Body’s Tears (2013)

Suspiria (1977)

Enter the Void (2009)

Blade Runner 2049 (2017)

Dredd (2012)

The use of light and color in these films have been highly influential in my photography for sure, and are also pretty great films in general.

What is your greatest motivation in taking your pictures,what do you want to do with your talent?

To create photos that I would like to see in the world. It’s hard to find artists that are exactly in line with what you’d like to see and what your tastes and interests are. So ultimately I’d like to create that art. I’m not quite there yet, but that’s the goal!

What have been the three best horror films you have seen this year?

Oooh, I’m glad you asked!

‘Midsommar’ is right at the top of the list. That movie is WILD man, it’s absolutely stunning to look at, it’s beautiful, severely dark and foreboding, crushingly heavy. It’s such a trip. Ari Aster is one of the most brilliant filmmakers working today.

‘Dry Blood.’ – It’s not from this year but I saw it this year and WOW, what a movie. Easily one of if not the best micro budget indie horror film I’ve ever seen. It’s not without its flaws but it keeps you guessing and trying to figure it out the whole time, and still manages to surprise you in the end…and end which is shocking, heartbreaking, unsettling…it’s great.

And ‘Haunt’ Which just came out. It’s a horror movie drenched in Halloween atmosphere and is just pure fun. I also have a fear of pretty much exactly what the movie is about so it hit nicely. I’m super excited about Doctor Sleep, I’m sure that’ll take a top spot for the year as well!

The new Nitehawk movie theater opened last night December 18, to a large crowd of media and interested parties in Park Slope.

The cheetah and I flying to watch your latest exhibit but we are a day early and you are now our tour guide,what are we doing?

Ah, pressure!

Well I love a short train ride from NYC, which certainly doesn’t need me to do it any favors… But, I’m a food guy, it’s pretty much what I do, and between NYC and Brooklyn, there’s pretty much going to be your new favorite place for any kind of food you can imagine. Right now I’m swooning over Federoffs Roast Pork in Brooklyn. Best sandwiches I’ve ever had, hands down. The NiteHawk theater in Brooklyn is a super cool movie going experience, they show tons of indie films, older films and have lots of cool horror film screenings. The theater also has a full bar, and has full snack bar/food/drink service AT YOUR SEAT. Its pretty much guaranteed to ruin all other movie theaters for you.

Movies and food…those are my areas of expertise!

I like to thank Wyatt for taking the time off his schedule to chat with us. If you’re in Long Island,NY and need some world class photos taken,well…..look no further then Wyatt.

Wyatt has a InstaGram page that showcases his skills which you can find here.

He also has a Facebook page as well in case you don’t use IG.

I like to thank you all for both reading my words but for also supporting the folks I am so fortunate to chat with. You can read my other interviews by going here. Feel free to drop a comment or two…..

8 Questions with……..professional photographer Wyatt Terwilliger Its 1:56 am cold/dark/leftovers Welcome to "8 Questions with......." Yeooooow has my November lethargy been a wicked pisser this year.

#8 Questions With #art #Chris McKenney #Harris Nukem #Life #lifestyle #Long Island #Moss Von Faustenberg #New York City #photography #professional

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expressioninsideout · 7 years

Text

Coffee Bliss, 2016

Third place in Expression 2016′s writing category went to Miriam Roberts-Thomson for her piece “Coffee Bliss”

They found Emma’s almost completely by accident.

Isaiah and Lucas had been on their way to the local Starbucks to do some work when the rain started. Working in their flat was like some sort of slow torture; their hyperactive brains distracting them from even attempting when they were in the same room as their consoles. Besides, Starbucks was warm, and the coffee was decent, if overpriced, and the wifi was better than at their dorm, so...

They weren’t even halfway there yet, and being the sensible students they were, they’d forgotten to pack anything that even resembled a raincoat. This wasn’t rain that you could ignore either, like the light splattering of springtime showers. No, this was the type of rain that promised thunderstorms and flooding.

Spotting a nearby awning, Isaiah pulls Lucas under it, which coincidentally turns out to be the entrance to some sort of cafe. The word Emma’s is elegantly inscribed in the glass on the door, above a sign that proclaimed their free wifi. Isaiah and Lucas exchange glances - dude, are you thinking what I’m thinking? Duh, bro, of course I’m thinking what you’re thinking - then, taking it as a sign from above, they stumble inside before they, like. Drown, or something.

The cafe is instantly, blessedly warm. The smell of coffee wafts through the air, warming Isaiah’s soul to its core. Sighing with content, they instinctively scope out the best seats with power sockets nearby and went to claim it as their own. The cafe has a sort of homey, mismatched feel to it, the tables and chairs all different, but somehow matching. Squishy armchairs are dotted around the room, and a crackling fireplace sits opposite the counter.

Isaiah sends Lucas a pleading glance, his eyes beseeching him to say yes.

“No,” Lucas says sternly, before glancing around and sighing. “Okay, okay. Maybe. But let’s see how their coffee is first, before we make any commitments,”

“Our coffee is brilliant,” a scary-intense looking brunette calls from behind the counter. Her name tag reads ‘ANGEL’ in neat block letters, with a golden halo drawn at an angle on top. Isaiah wishes that it was her real name.

She’s simultaneously the most beautiful and the scariest person Isaiah’s ever seen - although the latter could be a cause of the former. Her hair and eyes are mere shades darker than her bronze skin, giving her the appearance of a monochrome statue. If he was interested in girls, Isaiah would probably be too intimidated to talk to her - as he observes in Lucas, who is, in fact, interested enough for the both of them. He watches his friend flush a blotchy red, the colour spreading down his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tries to form coherent syllables.

“What would you recommend? Isaiah asks, taking pity on Lucas’ inability to speak actual human words.

“Well that really depends on what you’re here for,” the girl smiles, and pulls two mugs out from under the counter. The mugs, like the rest of the decor, don’t match, but are disarmingly charming. One of them has all the Avenger’s logos on it, and the other bears a turtle wearing a hat. Isaiah falls a little bit in love, and when he turns to Lucas, he can practically see the shackles tying him to Starbucks splintering. “Do you actually want coffee, or did you prefer tea?”

***

The coffee, it turns out, is brilliant. Better than Starbucks could ever dream of. The wifi is fast, and they don’t have to pay for it, and when he tries one of the many slices in the cabinet, Isaiah legitimately thinks that it could be the best thing he’s ever eaten in his entire life.

It kind of just makes sense that they stay, after that.

***

Isaiah met Lucas when they were both in year nine. From his primary school, there were exactly eleven other students who were going to the same college as him. One of those students was his friend. On their first day of college, however, his friend promptly ditched him to go and bother his older brother - such was the way of the thirteen-year-old.

He spent much of the first few weeks of college alone, sketching in his form class when bored. Then, one such time, when he was sketching a particularly detailed portrait of Captain America, another boy plopped down beside him.

“That’s really good,” the other boy had said matter of factly.

“Thanks, it’s what I’m gonna do when I’m older,” Isaiah blurted with all the confidence of his age.

“That’s awesome! I think I might be a lawyer maybe, or a police officer, but I don’t really know for sure. My name’s Lucas, what’s yours?” Lucas responded with an easy grin.

“Isaiah,” he’d said, and the rest, as they say, was history.

Isaiah had never really had such a close friend before - but that was okay. He thought that perhaps he was just waiting for Lucas to turn up.

***

It turns out that the barrister's name is actually Cara. She’s only a year older than Isaiah and Lucas, and goes to the local uni, and Isaiah thinks that she might be the coolest person he’s ever met.

There’s no one else working in the cafe that they can see, and it is pretty dead - between the wind threatening to blow small children away, and the rain tipping down outside, they reckon that anyone with half a brain would be inside keeping warm.

Isaiah and Lucas pretend not to watch her as she moves around making a drink for herself. Watching people without really watching them is a talent of Isaiah’s - as an artist, he’s picked up some pretty weird skills - so it isn’t a surprise to see her walking over to their table.

“Do you guys mind if I sit with you for a while? This shift is always pretty dead, and on a day like today...” she collapses into a chair at their table.

“Go ahead,” Isaiah smiles.

Lucas, once again, seems to have gone mute, which actually is probably a good thing. If he could talk, he’d probably say something stupid and scare her off so. Cara seems like an easy person to talk to though, so Isaiah’s reasonably certain that he can handle this conversation.

And - yeah, he was right. Cara’s awesome, and they quickly bond over their shared love for art. He finds out that Cara’s only studying to be a Veterinarian because her parents wouldn’t let her get a massive student loan for something she didn’t really need a degree for, which - fair point, actually.

“Still - these are really good. You’re talented,” Cara said, flipping through Isaiah’s sketchbook.

“Thanks,” Isaiah smiles. “Oh! That one’s my favourite,” he stops the page from turning.

The image is of Isaiah and Lucas, copied from a photograph. In it, they’re both laughing, heads tilted up, smiles evident on both their faces. Isaiah had drawn it just before he’d come out to Lucas, so he’d always have something to remember their friendship by in case things went sour.

“Of course it is,” Lucas mutters from his seat.

He keeps on shooting Isaiah incredulous looks like - dude how did we trick this freaking supermodel of a girl into thinking we’re cool? Isaiah has no idea, but he’s not complaining.

By the time they leave, Cara has well and truly worked her way into their lives. Lucas had managed to actually contribute a sufficient amount to the conversation, without accidentally offending anyone. Cara makes them promise to come back before she lets them leave, and - it’s nice, having someone that isn’t them wanting them to come back. Isaiah thinks that they might just have found somewhere that they could return to after anything.

Well. A place that isn’t each other.

***

So the thing about Emma’s is that everyone who works there seems to be unfairly attractive. They’ve come up with a theory that they only hire perfect tens.

There’s Cara, obviously, but there’s also Nick, the other barrister that works there full time. With his long blond curls and sharp blue eyes, he’s probably one of the most stunning men Isaiah’s ever seen.

“Bro, his cheekbones could probably cut glass. That’s so unfair,” Lucas murmurs to him one day. Isaiah gives him a strange look, to which Lucas rolls his eyes and promptly responds, “Just cause I’m not gay, doesn’t mean that I can’t appreciate a good-looking man when I see one. It’s not like you don’t appreciate Cara’s looks on a regular basis.”

Which - yeah. That’s actually a really good point.

There’s Emily, who comes hand in hand with Nick. She’s only two years younger than him, and they share the same blonde curls and blue eyes.

“Excellent genes in that family,” Isaiah mutters to Lucas when Emily is first introduced as Nick’s sister.

Emily only works when one of the others can’t make it, but she’s there more often than not anyway.

Then there’s Jackson. He owns the cafe, and is also their main pastry chef. He looks like he’d be more in place on a rugby field than in a kitchen, with arms the size of Isaiah’s entire head. He’s got tattoos running the length of his arms, and he looks like he could rip their heads off without a second thought. He’d completely terrified Isaiah and Lucas when they’d first met him, but he’d just nodded and offered them a free custard square.

Isaiah isn’t usually big on custard squares, but this was like some type of religious experience. Lucas had groaned slightly, and Isaiah muttered something about never eating anything else again, and Jackson had graced them with the tiniest of smiles before retreating back into the kitchen.

Cara looked relieved. Isaiah wondered what would have happened if they didn’t like the custard squares.

The other regulars to the cafe are also ridiculously attractive, which is profoundly unfair. There’s a string of pretty girls - and quite a few pretty boys - that come in to swoon over Nick; there’s a red-headed girl who comes in, sits in a corner and has quiet conversations with Cara over tea; there’s Sasha, an engineering student, who comes and sits behind piles of books and dirty mugs, and Charlie, who alternates between reading and staring wistfully at Sasha.

“We’re the worst looking people in this cafe.” Isaiah laments after a week of being there and staring at pretty people eating pastries.

Then he looks at Lucas, and not for the first time realises how nice he is to actually look at, all sharp angles and freckles and brown hair. He’s attractive in a careless way, the kind of person that just gets more and more attractive the longer you look at them. Isaiah sighs, and adapts his previous statement - I’m the worst looking person in this cafe.

“That’s okay. I’m okay with being unattractive if it means we can be surrounded by attractive people all the time,” Lucas shrugs.

It’s one of those weird statements that probably shouldn’t be comforting but is - even if it only makes sense to them.

***

Isaiah has plans, okay?

When they finished college, Lucas went off to police college, got a job at the local station, and Isaiah...

Well.

He went to uni, got a BA with a major in Art History, then booked a spot at a tiny studio by their apartment. He was good, and he knew that he had what it took to be really good, but he just needed to be noticed. There was only so much he could do through a blog.

In most ways, this was the hardest part.

“If I could just get a place at an exhibition or something...” Isaiah trails off.

Lucas had heard the rant about a thousand times already, but he was still patient.

“You’ll get there,” Lucas patted his shoulder.

“A foot in the door, that’s all I need,” Isaiah says earnestly, pencil clutched in his hand. “Maybe I should start a new series,”

“Good idea,” Lucas says absently, staring off at Cara and Nick working.

Isaiah follows his gaze to Cara. She’s leaning over a mug, trying to do some new form of latte art - a flower, or leaf, or something. Her tongue is sticking out, and her brow is furrowed in concentration, and it’s kind of adorable. Isaiah’s apparently not the only one who thinks so either - Nick is frozen where he is, paused in the middle of wiping a spill. He’s staring at Cara with something akin to longing in his eyes, watching for only a few careful seconds before moving on. Cara turns to say something to him - but then she pauses, watches him for a few moments, the same intense expression on her face.

Huh. Interesting.

Isaiah feels his fingers twitch, and he scrambles for a pencil.

“Dude, chill,” Lucas says, looking at him bizarrely. “It’s not going anywhere,”

“How did I not see this earlier? Actually, why did I not think this earlier?” Isaiah mutters, sketching furiously.

“What? What’s happening?” Lucas actually sounds slightly concerned.

“Look,” Isaiah nods towards the counter.

Lucas looks, and.... Yup. There it was. He’d seen it.

“Bro,” he whispers.

“Yeah,” Isaiah whispers back.

“Oh my god,” Lucas grabs his arm.

“And Sasha and Charlie too, look,” Isaiah grins, and starts sketching again. “I should just do a series on Emma’s.”

“You should,” Lucas nods.

“Yeah,” Isaiah says. “I really should.”

***

It all just comes easy after that.

He goes to Emma’s, spends a couple hours drinking coffee and sketching, then heads over to the studio to transfer to canvas, or to start painting. The finished series will consist of twelve paintings, all of them workers or regulars at Emma’s. Some of them will be small, and others large, and they’ll all be painted in the same warm, golden tones.

Sketching the people at Emma’s comes easy - they’re all incredibly easy to look at, and incredibly interesting to draw. There’s such a large variety as well - Cara, with her dark skin and curly hair, Nick and Emily, with their matching blonde locks and strong expressions, Jackson, with his muscly arms and pastries. Sasha has her books and mugs, and Charlie has his Kindle. The nameless girl Cara talks to, her eye makeup so dark it could be war-paint.

Isaiah loves it.

He figures that he should probably tell them at some point, but he doesn’t want them to get mad at him. He just wants to have this thing for a while, this thing that’s completely and irrevocably his.

Lucas comes and watches him paint sometimes, when he’s not working. It’s nice, the two of them there. Since they stumbled into Emma’s for the first time, it feels like they haven’t really had much time where it’s just them. Not like they used to. This, however. This is nice.

It takes him two and a half months to finish all the sketches and have them transferred to canvas. Ten of the paintings are finished, and the last two well under way. Isaiah’s planning on scanning them into some of the owners of the local galleries once they’re finished, and he knows in his heart of hearts that they’re good enough to be shown.

He just has to finish first.

***

There’s a new guy at the counter.

Isaiah repeats: there’s a new guy at the counter.

Cara’s not there - it’s her usual shift, but she’s conspicuously absent. Isaiah knows it’s her shift because every Tuesday for the last month he would come in for a coffee, then sit at the closest table and work on his art. Cara would come and top off his coffee when it ran out, and when she went on her break, she would come and sit with him and they would talk about various artworks. It was fun.

Today though - today, she’s not here. The guy standing behind the counter is most definitely not Cara. He’s got a type of dark, brooding thing going on, his eyes as dark as a freaking midnight sky. A beanie is shoved on his head, pulled down over his ears, and Isaiah can see the edge of a tattoo peeking out from under his collar.

It’s really working for him.

“Can I help?” the guy says, raising an eyebrow at Isaiah.

“Uh. Yeah,” Isaiah stutters, stumbling to a stop before he can say something stupid like ‘a ring’. “Cara?”

Which - yeah. That’s not too much better, really.

“She’s off sick,” the guy says, looking surprised - and it’s ridiculous how attractive Isaiah finds it.

“Oh. Is this your first shift?” Isaiah asks, and reading the guy's face, he can tell that it is. “I just haven’t seen you around before... and I come here a lot, so,”

“It is. But don’t worry, I’ve worked at a coffee house before, so your coffee won’t suck,” the guy says, seeming to take Isaiah’s comment as a challenge. It wasn’t meant as one, but damn if this guy isn’t taking it literally. He’s actually rolling up his sleeves, something that is really doing something to Isaiah, and God, okay, he needs to stop, now.

“Okay. Alright,” Isaiah thinks for a moment, then leans forward onto the counter. “So, don’t get me wrong, Cara and Nick are great and all, but they both suck at making chai tea lattes. Think you can do better?”

“I know I can do better,” the guy smirks - it’s a good look - and pulls a mug out from under the counter. “This latte’s going to blow your mind.”

(It’s not the latte that blow’s Isaiah’s mind.)

***

The latte, it turns out, is pretty damn good. Isaiah might be a little bit in love.

Jackson eventually gets around to giving the new guy a name tag, so he finds out his name - or at least, part of it - is Thatcher. Emily finds out that Thatcher transferred from another university, and that he’s halfway through getting Masters in writing. She tells Isaiah that he wants to be a journalist, and that she hadn’t really been able to get much else out of him apart from that.

Isaiah’s a bit disappointed, honestly. Emily gives no indication on whether or not Thatcher’s gay, or bi, or anything else other than straight, and Isaiah doesn’t ask. He’s pretty sure that at this point everyone working at Emma’s knows about his sexuality, but he hasn’t explicitly told anyone, and he doesn’t want to assume. He just figures that if they want to know, they’ll ask, and then he’ll tell them. Besides, what business is it of theirs what gender Isaiah likes?

The only people he’s ever explicitly come out to are his parents and Lucas. His parents hadn’t cared much, thank God, something that was so relieving to him at the time that he started crying. His parents just exchanged one look, then scooped him up in a massive hug. Lucas had just shrugged, and said that from the way Isaiah had been waxing poetic about Chris Evans’ shoulders after The Avengers came out, it was fairly obvious.

“Yeah,” Isaiah had sighed. “Chris Evans has great shoulders...”

“Yes, Isaiah. I know. We’ve been through this,” Lucas had looked at him seriously. “You know I don’t care about any of this, right? You’re my best friend,”

Isaiah had teared up a little bit, and they’d spent the rest of the night hugging and crying and repeatedly saying “I love you, man!” and “No, I love you, man!”

It was a bonding experience for the both of them.

The point was, though, that Isaiah, having never really told anyone about his sexuality, wasn’t really sure how to ask about someone else's. He wasn’t even sure if he should ask. What if Thatcher wasn’t gay, and took offence?

What if he was?

***

Isaiah spends the next few weeks sketching picture upon picture of Thatcher. He finds out a lot of things about him while he does so as well - his first name is Westley, though almost nobody ever calls him that. Once, Lucas called him Westley from across the room, then spent the next two days convinced that Thatcher was going to kill him. It was pretty funny. Isaiah’s not too sure why though, as the one time he called him Wes by accident, his eyes had gotten all soft and crinkly, and the way Thatcher smiled at him had him convinced that he’d never call him anything else again.

It was so cute Isaiah had spilt his latte all over the counter, then flushed a bright pink when Wes had just laughed and made him a new one.

Wes wears beanies almost all the time, and pairs them with combat boots and leather jackets when outside. He rides a motorbike to Emma’s most days, all sleek black metal. Isaiah loves drawing him next to Cara, their two aesthetics so completely opposite it’s incredible. Wes is kind, and attractive, and he makes good coffee, and damn Isaiah is in so deep.

“He could be gay. You never know,” Lucas says one day, hunched over their table.

“Yeah, right,” Isaiah scowls, looking at the way Wes is talking to a female customer. Wes sees him looking and smiles over at him, sending a small wave their way. “I’m gonna be so alone,”

“Aww, that’s okay dude, you can always come and live with me in my attic, okay? I’ll even get you a blanket so you can be all cosy and warm,” Lucas pulls Isaiah in, ruffling his hair.

“Get off!” Isaiah says, shoving Lucas’ arm off him, but he’s laughing, so the effect is somewhat ruined.

Lucas just grins back, then steals the last bite of Isaiah’s custard square.

“Hey!” Isaiah protests, looking around indignantly.

He catches sight of Wes again, but this time the other man refuses to catch his eye, and is instead polishing a glass so furiously, Isaiah starts to worry about the glass. Wes looks for all the world like he wants to smash it instead of place it gently under the counter, and it’s kind of scary. Isaiah pretends that it doesn’t bother him that Wes won’t look his way.

“Seriously though, I reckon you have a serious shot,” Lucas says, oblivious to the way Wes is suddenly avoiding Isaiah like the plague. “He actually looks like he enjoys talking to you. It’s incredible,”

“Sure,” Isaiah snorts. “He gets on with you, Cara and Nick just fine,”

Lucas barks out a laugh. “Dude, he looks at me like I’ve killed his entire family all the time. I don’t think he’s smiled at me once since he’s been here,”

“Don’t be stupid, he smiles all the time,” Isaiah says dismissively.

“He smiles at you all the time,” Lucas says, hitting Isaiah’s arm slightly, before going back to his coffee, and ignoring the fact that he’s completely just shattered Isaiah’s entire world.

***

It was early.

Isaiah had spent the night finishing off his series, painting the final image of Cara, Nick and now Wes behind the counter. Cara was laughing, Nick looking fondly at her, and Wes in the midst of pouring a coffee. He’s quite proud of it, honestly. All he has to do now is scan them into the gallery owners.

But first, coffee.

He’s been up for most of the night working, after the owner of the small studio left him the keys to lock up. He must have fallen asleep at some point - he’d woken up about twenty minutes ago, plastered to a desk, paintbrush still in his hand. It was safe to say, his first priority at this point was getting some decent coffee - so naturally, he heads to Emma’s.

He doesn’t even think they’re open yet, but Wes must see him pawing pathetically at the door, and pauses in setting up to go and let him in, a casual smirk on his face.

“You look like death warmed up,” Wes says, his voice fond. “You alright?”

Isaiah loses his words for a second at the sound of Wes’ voice, warm and gravelly from sleep still. “I just need coffee. Like a big coffee. The biggest. Scratch that - all of the coffee you have. I need it,”

“Okay okay, calm down. Gimme a sec,” Wes shoots him a grin, and - Isaiah doesn’t need coffee, he needs a shot of tequila.

Wes turns and gets a giant flask out from the kitchen, larger than Emma’s usual to go cups, drying it with a towel on his way out. Isaiah watches as he fills it with coffee, fascinated with the way his hands make the motions almost on instinct. It’s an art form in itself, really.

“Here,” Wes hands the flask to Isaiah.

Their fingers brush as Isaiah takes it, sending chills down Isaiah’s spine.

“Big enough for you?” Wes quirks an eyebrow - and if he were anyone else, Isaiah would think that he was flirting.

“Uh, yeah,” Isaiah’s voice is nearly an octave higher than usual when he answers. “Thanks, Wes,”

It’s almost seven hours later that he notices the name on the bottom - neat letters proclaiming the flask as belonging to a ‘W. Thatcher’. It shouldn’t feel like a big issue, but - it really does.

He stares at the flask for a long, long time.

***

Isaiah had sent copies of his work to several of the local gallery owners, so now all he had to do was wait. He hadn’t wanted to upload them to his blog in case he got accepted by a gallery owner who had strict copyright, but it was a close thing. The main thing he wanted to do was show everyone at Emma’s, but he didn’t want to risk anything just yet.

So yeah. Now he just had to wait.

He goes to Emma’s and gets coffee, talks to Cara and Wes, hangs out with Lucas, sketches random people he sees. It’s entertaining enough, but he misses having something to do every day. He misses having a purpose.

It’s three weeks later when he gets the email.

***

Dear Mister Waters,

We’re delighted to inform you that your series ‘Coffee Bliss’ has been accepted into our new exhibition. The opening night is on the 21st of October of this year, and we would love for you to attend. Please find attached tickets for you and a plus one. Additional tickets will cost $20 each.

Kind Regards,

Blue Stone Gallery.

***

“Dude, dude, dude, dude dude dude dude dude!” Isaiah jumps on Lucas, shaking his shoulder before grabbing him in a giant bear hug.

Lucas hates bear hugs.

“Bro, get off!” Lucas pushes him off his bed.

Isaiah jumps back on, and hugs him again. “I got in!” he chants, “I got in, I got in, I got in!”

“Where? What?” Lucas rubs his eyes, then sits up.

“Blue Stone Gallery! They put me in their new exhibition!” Isaiah grins wildly.

“Oh my God, dude, that’s awesome!” Lucas grins back, thumping his arm.

“Yeah! They gave me two tickets to their opening night, do you wanna come?”

“Yeah, bro! That’s so cool, you’re all professional and stuff now,” Lucas teases. “When’s the opening?”

“The twenty-first,” Isaiah smiles happily. “Hey, I’m gonna head over to Emma’s, I think I might tell Wes and Cara,”

“Okay, have fun,” Lucas says. “Tell them I say hi,”

“Will do,” Isaiah stands up, and all but floats out of the room he’s so happy.

It seems like things are finally heading up.

***

“You. Did. What?” Cara asks, and Isaiah can all but see the steam coming out of her ears.

“I uh. Did a series on Emma’s. It got accepted into Blue Stone Gallery’s new exhibition,” Isaiah says, slightly less enthusiastically.

“And you didn’t think to, you know, ask any of us first?” she says, glaring at him.

“I thought it would be better if you didn’t know... more natural,” Isaiah explains, then immediately regrets it.

“Oh so that just makes it okay for you to invade our privacy like this,” Cara snaps, and if Isaiah wasn’t already scared out if his mind, he was now.

“Uhhh,” he croaks, then looks to Wes and Nick standing just behind her.

Nick just shrugs at him, expression apologetic. Wes avoids his eye for a second, then sighs and rubs a weary hand over his eyes.

“Cara,” Wes says, touching her shoulder. “Don’t you think he has a point? You’re an artist too, can’t you see where he’s coming from?”

“That - ugh! Stop trying to reason with me!” Cara wheels around to him.

‘Thank you’ Isaiah mouths to Wes, who grimaces in response.

“Isaiah’s our friend, we should be happy for him,” Wes continues. “You of all people should know how hard it is for an artist to make it,”

“I’m sorry, Cara,” Isaiah says softly. “I just didn’t want to risk our friendship,”

“You should have thought of that earlier,” she whispers back, then turns and walks off.

Isaiah stares after her sadly. “This is why I didn’t want to tell anyone,” he mutters.

“Sorry man. She’ll come round,” Wes leans over the counter and pats Isaiah’s shoulder sympathetically. “I think it’s awesome though. Congratulations,”

“Thanks,” Isaiah smiles. “I should probably go though... I’ll see you tomorrow maybe,” he turns and heads for the door.

“Don’t be a stranger!” Wes calls after him.

Isaiah waves in acknowledgement, then leaves the cafe.

He tries to ignore the thought that tells him that what he’s leaving behind is irreparable.

***

“Hey, Isaiah...” Lucas says, eyes pleading.

“What is it?” Isaiah sighs, rolling over.

He’d been lying on his bed, face down, sulking after what happened at Emma’s.

“Hypothetically...” Lucas trails off sheepishly. “What would you say if I couldn’t make it to the opening night?” he rushes out.

Isaiah groans dramatically, then buries his face back into his pillow.

“Oh no. What happened?” Lucas sits down and pats Isaiah’s shoulder.

“Cara’s mad at me,” he mumbles.

“Why?” Lucas sounds surprised.

“Paintings,” Isaiah grunts.

“Oh. I’m sorry,”

Isaiah groans again. “Wait. Did you just say that you can’t make the opening night?” he looks up suddenly.

“Yeah...” Lucas scratches his neck. “I’m really really sorry, there’s a work thing I can’t miss,”

Isaiah just sighs. “What happened? Everything was going so well,”

Lucas rubs Isaiah’s shoulder.

“It’ll be fine,” Lucas says again.

Isaiah mumbles something ineligible, then faceplants back into his pillow.

Here is safe.

Here is good.

***

Lucas had gone out to his event a while ago, leaving Isaiah where he was, sitting on the couch and making him promise to eat something before he fell asleep. He’s wearing his oldest, comfiest clothes, binge watching Parks and Rec, wallowing in his feelings. The opening night of the gallery starts in half an hour, and Isaiah’s planning on spending the whole evening staying right where he is.

It’s a solid plan.

A knock on the door startles him out of the show. Thinking it’s Lucas forgetting his keys, Isaiah rolls his eyes and stands up. There’s another knock on the door, more insistent this time, and Isaiah’s just saying, “Hold on, dude, I’m coming!” when he opens the door, and --

It’s not Lucas.

Wes is standing on the other side of the door, wearing a suit and a smile.

“You ready?” Wes asks.

“What?” Isaiah asks, confused.

“... For the opening?” Wes elaborates.

“I --” Isaiah stops. Frowns. “I wasn’t gonna go,” he admits.

“What?” Now it’s Wes’ turn to be confused.

“Lucas has this work thing, and Cara’s mad at me, and it just doesn’t really feel like something I’m supposed to be celebrating right now,” Isaiah explains.

He’s still confused as why Wes is here - but looking as good as he does in that suit, Isaiah’s not going to start complaining any time soon.

“Lucas... what? I’m confused,” Wes scratches his head.

Isaiah sighs. “Do you wanna come in?”

Wes nods, and they move to the couch, Isaiah curling back into the ball he was in not moments before.

“I don’t wanna be rude or anything, and I’m not really complaining - but why are you here?” Isaiah asks Wes.

“Lucas came down to Emma’s earlier. He said that something came up, but did I want to go to your opening tonight? And I thought, yeah, that sounds like it could be fun, then he gave me the time, and your address, and said that you’d see me then,” Wes says slowly.

Isaiah exhales. “Of course he did. I uh. Wasn’t planning on going,”

“Yeah, I realise that now,” Wes grins easily. “So what were you planning on doing?”

Crying, Isaiah thinks. “I was just gonna rewatch Parks and Rec,” he says instead.

“Okay. Mind if I join?” Wes asks.

Isaiah looks at him and nods, perhaps a bit too fast. Wes smiles again, and toes off his shoes so he can nestle into the couch. Isaiah hits play, and tries not to watch Wes too much. It’s not working too well for him. They watch for a while, then Wes shucks off his his jacket and loosens his tie. Isaiah’s mouth dries out, and his breath catches in his throat at the sight of Wes’ tight white shirt.

“Like what you see?” Wes teases, noticing Isaiah’s stare.

Isaiah flushes and looks away.

“Hey,” Wes says, suddenly gentle. Isaiah looks up, and sees that Wes has shifted so he’s right in front of him. “It’s okay,”

“Wes, I...” Isaiah breaks off, looks down again.

He feels a hand on his face and closes his eyes.

“Isaiah,” Wes breathes, and Isaiah opens his eyes to see Wes staring at him with such intensity that it hurts to breathe.

Isaiah breathes out slowly, shakily, then all of a sudden Wes’ lips are on his, and his eyes are glued closed, all of his other senses telling him that one of Wes’ hands is in his hair, and their bodies pressed together, and Wes’ other hand is pulling him close, closer than they’d ever been before.

They break apart slowly, breathing each other’s air for a while until they’re dizzy with it.

“Wow,” Wes whispers.

“I thought...” Isaiah breaks off, then laughs a little. “I thought you were straight,”

Wes chuckles, sliding his hand from Isaiah’s hair to his hand, then twining their fingers together.

“I’m bi, so... you’re half right, I guess,” he explains. “I thought you were dating Lucas,”

“Lucas?” Isaiah snorts. “He’s so unbelievably straight it’s not funny,”

“And you?” Wes prompts.

Isaiah presses his lips together. “I’m really, really not,”

“Lucky for me,” Wes smiles, then leans in and kisses Isaiah again.

It’s exciting, and new, and perfect.

So, goddamn perfect.

And - later, Isaiah will take Wes to the exhibition, and they’ll ooh and aah at all the paintings, and Wes will kiss Isaiah in front of his series. Later, when Cara forgives him, Isaiah will spend all his free time at Emma’s, sketching Wes until he goes on break, then sketching him some more. Later, they’ll move in together, and get a cat, and start a life.

Right now though?

Right now, they’ve got seven seasons of Parks and Rec, and a couch, and an empty apartment.

And it’s pretty awesome.

“I would like you to know that "Coffee Bliss” is a slice of life - the events that take place in the story are events that could easily take place in someone's life.”

#expression #expression2016 #expressionwriting #expressionentries #insideout #lgbtqia #lgbt #lgbt youth #queer youth #nz #new zealand #aotearoa

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