#the new semester is about to start so heres one last quick doodle | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lizbotw · 3 years

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it’s only sharing a disgustingly sweet milkshake at the local college town diner after both of your evening classes that suna graciously provides the answers to the math homework.

the spongy pencil eraser is easy for you to sink your teeth into as you puzzle over his handwriting. “you know,” you mumble around the nib, trying to figure out if that’s a 5 or a 6, “i never know why you do this to me every week.” this time the drink with two plastic straws floating in an unhealthy heaping of whip cream is a syrupy strawberry flavor.

rintarou tips forward to sip at one of them and in your peripheral, chunky pink-coated fruit pieces travel up the clear tube and disappear between his lips. he releases the straw with an annoying ah that makes you frown, even if you weren’t concentrating in the first place. “aw, don’t tell me you don’t like hanging out with me.” he feigns hurt.

a well placed sip of your own allows you to avoid having to answer that—you have a personal rule of never being sappy in the presence of calculus. if you didn’t like him, suna knows you wouldn’t be hanging out with him—there are just some things you can’t do, even if it’s for the sake of your grade. none of this has to be said out loud of course, but he decides to be annoying and ask anyway.

actually—well... maybe hanging out is... not exactly how this appears to bystanders.

sharing a drink like this, you two probably look more like a couple on a (terribly cheap) afternoon date, rather than two broke college students that split meals to save money and believe that sharing answers for homework isn’t cheating, it’s collaboration.

ha, as if it would ever be different—things like the former never come true. maybe in movies, but that’s about where the line is drawn.

as if he knows what you’re thinking, suna raises an eyebrow at you over the glass, a smile playing on his lips—the same stupid look he always gives you. it feels particularly worse this evening.

it’s hard to avoid eye contact with him mere inches away, but you manage when a car painted a very interesting shade of red rumbles past the fingerprint covered window. you’re grateful for the distraction.

the subject changes when you realize suna has terrible taste when it comes to ordering milkshakes. “what flavor is this?” you spit out the word as though the very concept of calling this a real flavor is more disgusting than the drink itself, smacking your lips and screwing up your face at the excessively saccharine, artificial strawberry aftertaste.

this is no ordinary strawberry milkshake. no, this is a so-bad-only-suna-rintarou-would-order-something-this-horrible-(and-not-necessarily-on-purpose-either) strawberry milkshake.

“valentine’s valor,” he states matter-of-factly like those words mean anything to you. you stare at him until he elaborates. “their valentine’s special,” he clarifies and is gifted with a sarcastic thumbs-up from you in thanks—it is pointedly ignored and suna slings an arm over back of his seat. “dunno the exact flavor though. forgot.”

it tastes like the embodiment of pink, you decide. valentine’s valor. what a stupid name. there are a million and one better words that start with v... you can name at least five with a little thinking. you should ask them to hire you as part of their marketing team, you decide.

maybe it’s fitting title though. you certainly need valor to even think about taking another sip of that... concoction—which you do because you are obsessed with getting your money’s worth.

“valentine’s day was half a week ago?” your mental calendar helpfully supplies.

the clatter of pans in the back kitchen somehow mingles charmingly with the way rintarou throws his head back to laugh—a scene straight out of a movie really. you decide you hate him in the moment. “right you are. want a prize?” ugh. you stick your tongue out at his tone.

great. as if to add insult to injury, of course you’re sharing an out-of-date love holiday special with suna of all people. valentine’s was four days ago and this is where you are on a thursday night. the sticky upholstery of the booth seat, ripped and fraying at the corners, squeaks and groans and attaches itself to the fabric of your jeans as you shift around, suddenly hot. what a strange situation to be in, you think. this has to be a metaphor for life—then again, you’d been thinking this whole... thing has been a metaphor anyway.

yup, ever since suna sat next to you in a calculus II lecture all those fated months ago and took pity on how much you fucking sucked at math, up until the present where he takes slightly less pity on you but does enjoy emptying your dorm mini-fridge and making you pay for his milkshakes—all of it. this entire thing with him. one big stupid metaphor.

the specifics of how you came to have a routine like this are certainly murky, but two things are for certain—one, your calculus grade is certainly a lot better than it would have been otherwise, and two, you have one friend more than you did at the start of the school year. (that last one is kind of a big deal, you think. the college social scene is brutal. the word friend has started to become more disappointing than exhilarating lately though.)

rin reaches to your left to pick at the fries you’d ordered as a side—you’ve learned not to try and stop him. “also,” he adds, mouth full, “you’re totally getting me a new pencil after this.” yes, true, the pencil you’re currently leaving frustrated teeth marks all over isn’t yours. very easy to forget in the moment. you’ve probably destroyed 15 of his pencils by now for the 15 weeks of the last semester—only 7 so far for the current one. you do the mental math.

instead of drawing in the sharp lines of the differential equation that should be going in the question box, you lightly trace in the curves of a 2 and then another one next to it in the corner of the worksheet, graphite underlining them both in one swoop. the horribly thin paper of the school library’s printer is scratchy as you write but soon you flip the pencil over and under your fingers to tap the eraser (that has seen better days) just below what you wrote. “this is pencil number 22.”

suna leans over to look at the number as if you hadn’t just told him what it said. what an idiot. “glad you’re keeping count.” he settles back into his seat. “when can i expect my reimbursement?”

“you’re funny,” you say, without a hint of humor in your voice. the pretty 22 you had written now has flower petals growing off of the sides as you get distracted doodling along the edges of your work. it’s quiet for a moment as he watches you, or maybe as he takes the chance while you’re distracted to shove more french fries down his throat—either option is plausible and you don’t lift your eyes to check.

something occurs to you.

“rin.” you take an extended pause in between the words as you continue drawing, just to annoy him. you don’t continue speaking until he grumbles in acknowledgment (you try to hide your smile). “do you ever doodle in your notebooks?” now that you thought about it, suna was surprisingly pretty straight-laced when it came to class—you couldn’t ever recall him ever slacking off to the degree that meant his pages were filled with hearts and stars and flowers and suns and atomically inaccurate animals and tiny people in different colored ink. your work was always certainly the more vibrant out of the two (perhaps that could explain your grades and how you understand like... nothing in your lectures, but you decide correlation does not equal causation).

“waste of time,” he says around another mouthful of fries, another one already halfway there to his mouth.

suna is also surprisingly negative at times—but the blue book flipped open to his homework says maybe he’s just a liar though. you squint at it.

“it’s still pretty early but we probably should get out of here soon,” suna says, pulling his phone out from his pocket to check the time and leaning his elbows on the table. “i’ll walk you back. your roomie doesn’t leave the gym until 9—before you ask, yes i’ve been keeping track. it’s not stalking if it’s for my own sake.”—rin is, of course, referring to the long standing rivalry between him and your (very nice, might you add) roommate you don’t really understand but which has cumulated in him deciding he would avoid them as much as humanly possible purely out of spite. (“the only person i like in dorm 302 is you,” he’d told you one time and the throwaway sentence maybe made your heart flutter more than it probably should’ve.)

the bell above the front door jingles behind you as another patron enters. rin glances up at the sound and then returns to his phone with a bored bat of his eyes, probably scrolling through twitter or replying to texts, and picking at his teeth with a toothpick (where did he even get that?).

you try to get back to work (copying) but something in your gut tells you there’s more to his notebook than the messy handwriting and crossed out words that meet the eye.

with suna distracted, you take the chance to carefully slide the book towards you and then, in a single quick swipe, pull it into your lap under the table, already leafing to the back pages—everyone knows that’s where the real secrets are—not sure what to expect. a flash of color makes you pause and you flip back to a page that has the corner folded into a tiny, crisp triangle.

whatever you were thinking suna had stashed in the back of his calculus notebook certainly does not match up with what’s staring you in the face currently. sparkly, gel-inked hearts in neon colors glitter under the fluorescent overheads. in each of them, written in capital letters neater than you thought possible for suna, is your initials, a small plus sign in the middle, and then S.R. (for none other than suna rinatoru) next to it. it instantly makes sense to you. “rin, what the fuck.” one side of the book dangles from your hand, pages fluttering, and you hold it up for him to see, other hand flying to cover your mouth because you don’t know whether to laugh or pretend to be mortified or what.

it’s very amusing to watch how suna goes from a disinterested stare, to widened eyes, to reaching over the heaps of school supplies to attempt to grab the book from you, frantic. you hold it just out of reach. “what are you—” an old lady at a table shushes him when he half-screams. “—give that back,” suna whisper-yells instead in the greatest verbal equivalent of tiny caps you’ve ever heard.

“not a chance.”

he looks like he wants to lunge across the table and pry his prized possession from your meddling hands, but also has half the mind not to make a scene. getting kicked out and then subsequently banned from his favorite diner all on a noise complaint and disorderly conduct accusation was not ideal.

you hum, flip back to your place, and observe the drawings covering the lined pages. you shoot him a venomous smirk over the edge of the cover, one that’s more theatrics than anything, and say with all the satisfaction of someone who knows they have all the power, “oh, this is gold.” he deflates and you feel grateful he doesn’t see right through your facade because oh man are you sweating inside right now. what the fuck? no way suna rintarou is drawing little hearts with both of your initials in it like a lovesick middle schooler. no fucking way. you almost want to tell him that you did the same thing once when the thoughts about him had gotten especially bad (you felt guilty afterwards though, thinking you never had a chance with him, but... now... if he’s doing the same—well, that kind of changes everything).

suna is utterly defeated you think—doesn’t even try to defend himself, just slumps in his seat with a groan. you at least expected a “i can explain!” from him, a last attempt at dignity, not the resigned “i’m never going to live this down, am i?” he mumbles after a few seconds. well, either works for you.

“nope,” you quip, maybe a little too cheerfully because the response you receive is a distressed wail and him banging his head against the table. the old lady shushes him again. you chuckle at that (it feels a little wobbly though because once again, freaking out here) and flip the page. you stop.

this one has similar perfect little hearts drawn all over it, but there are other things. cute, standard shaky drawings of misshapen dogs and volleyballs and other things you never thought suna would take it upon himself to create but all of which make sense are there. but there’s something else. little scribbles in the corners with your last name swapped with his and even him trying out his name with your last one—all of them are scratched out but not so much you can’t read them. a list on the right in a very tiny font that makes you think he was embarrassed even penning the words is titled “date ideas?” (the question mark is in red and the dot is a heart) and has several popular spots around town written down in the local lingo of unofficial names for them.

“listen... please let’s forget about this.” rin’s voice is muffled and he’s still faceplanted. “it’s fine if you don’t... you know... yeah.” if you don’t feel that way, he means. true, the doodles were a pretty good indication of his feelings.

what to do...

well... you take pity on him, let your lips upturn and your eyes soften to reflect the sentiment, and shut the book with a quiet thud. you slide it back across the table from where it came and back to him silently. you give it a resounding pat when suna peeks up at you, expression saying it all—he was so going to get you back for this. you stick your tongue out—acceptance of the challenge. and just like that, you’re friends again—maybe that’s what’s so great about suna.

as you get ready to leave and slowly begin the trek back to the dorm buildings with him, street lamps glimmering a pasty yellow, there’s no awkward tension, no need to ask questions, no verbal wonderings about what ifs between you two. it’s just joking and shoving each other around and challenges to see who can run to the next tree the fastest in the middle of the chilly february night. you know, maybe for now you’ll keep your own thoughts a secret.

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srose-foxfire · 3 years

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“Under an Autumn Moonlight” Part: 3 (Damirae fic)

Part #1

Part #2

Part #3

Raven let out a deep sigh as she exited her history lecture hall. Her mind should had been in class, but her mind she kept going back to the very uncomfortable lecture they received from their landlord outside their apartment building. Raven and Donna had returned to find their apartment building evacuated because their friend and roommate, Jinx, had started a small fire in their kitchen. Their landlord was furious with them all, this wasn’t the first time Jinx had endangered lives before. It was her third, and their landlord was running out of patience to let them continue renting the three-bedroom apartment. The only thing saving them from being evicted was that they were college students trying to get by and focusing on their degrees. Though Raven was certain with another ‘Jinx incident’ they be kicked out to the streets, for sure.

Their friend seemed to be a magnet that attracted misfortune wherever there was any electronic device. Nevertheless, they all cared for Jinx very much. Raven wouldn’t be true to herself if she didn’t feel a bit least upset for leaving Robin. She was starting to feel at ease with him and wanted to continue talking with him. It also seemed he wanted to talk about something more personal before she got the phone call from Jinx.

“I hope to see you again.”

Was the last thing Robin had said to her and in truth Raven wanted to see him too. She didn’t know how to though, it would look strange if she just showed up at the warehouse, besides she didn’t know when the band was there. Maybe if she could contact him directly? Robin was friends with Jon, maybe Raven could ask Jon for Robin’s number, but knowing Jon he would question her and then go gossip to Donna who would interrogate Raven on the matter. Raven didn’t even know what all this was, the only thing she was certain was she wanted to see him again and just talk.Right? That’s all she wanted nothing more.

Raven continue walking down the main walkway of the university going to her next class. Introduction to Astronomy. One of the class assignments she was looking forward to was going to an overnight camping trip to stargaze and map out constellations. Their professor also added that they could distinguish the planet Saturn from the stars because it was closer to Earth during the fall semester.

Raven could hardly wait and just stargaze to ger heart’s content. Since a child, Raven always liked looking up into the starry night sky and letting her worries be swept from her.

Raven didn’t have the best childhood; she lost her mother at very young age where her memories were blur glimpses. What always made her think of her mother was the smell of lavender. Somewhere in the back of her mind she could had sworn seeing her mother standing next to her crib and light a lavender scented candle, singing her a gentle lullaby. When her mother passed, she was left with a drunken father who wasn’t home at all doing who knows what. She was confided in that small apartment for eighteen years, the only times she was allowed outside was to go to school. During the day she was the good student, getting the highest remarks in every class, but when night came, she let herself cry out. One night she looked up to a full moon and imagined it was her mother’s way of lighting her dark world. Since then Raven found solace in the night sky.

When Raven graduated from high school, she left that small apartment and moved away with her only friend Donna Troy to Gotham City, for a new start. There they met Jinx, this made Raven feel she had someplace she could really call home and have a family. She entered the new school year without declaring a major, but knew she wanted to be surrounded by books. During her second year in the university, Raven was passing by a small vintage store and through the window saw a mother and her very young daughter look through a worn-out book. In that moment Raven imagined herself in the girl’s place and transformed the woman to what vague memory Raven had of Arella, her mother. That’s when Raven decided she would open her own bookstore, in memory of her mother, and help others find sanctuary.

Raven finally arrived at her astronomy classroom. She sat down in her usual lab table and took out her notebook and textbook. There were ten tables in total, separated in pairs to force students to work together. Though the seat next to Raven’s was always empty, which was weird there were exactly twenty seats and twenty students were enrolled. One student was never called for, yet the seat was taken since no one had dropped out. To act like she could rely one someone, Raven always placed her backpack on the empty seat, the bag was a trusted ally who always carried her things. The classroom was starting to fill as each student too their seat before the professor arrived.

Raven was looking over her notes from last class when she noticed someone out of the corner of her eye standing next to her table.

“Is this seat taken?”

Raven looked up and her gaze widen in shock. Standing before her dressed in designer clothes was none other than Damian Wayne. Like theson to Bruce Wayne and heir to run Wayne Enterprises. What was he doing here?

Raven managed to squeak out a no, and quickly as she could remove her backpack from the chair. Damian sat down, and took out a notebook, flipped through it till he found a clean page. He scribbled something on a corner and then very gracefully pulled out his textbook. This made no sense, Raven thought. Was he the one student that was enrolled and never show up? And why show up now of all times. They were halfway through the semester and come to think he wasn’t around for the midterm they had taken a few weeks ago.

She could feel the atmosphere change in the classroom as everyone stared at the young man next to her. Damian Wayne was someone who didn’t allow anyone get near him other than his family, in interviews and documentaries on his family’s company he was always seen to be at a distance from everyone. Raven wasn’t much for gossip, but all these were just rumors and online news articles she had heard from.

From the corner of her eye she saw Damian read over some notes, he looked so calm. Like he had no care in the world. Which was surprising given to the fact she caught some of her classmates taking pictures of him. Probably posting on their social media pages that the infamous Damian Wayne had graced their presence. Raven would lie to herself if she didn’t admit he was handsome. His olive skin looked almost that of a god of sun, his emerald eyes containing vivid green forests in them. Raven wasn’t staring she had seen countless pictures of him to study his features. The room went silent when Professor Charles, entered the classroom.

Professor Charles was in his late sixties, with a small rounded belly and fine gray hairs still trying to cover his baldness. He went straight to his desk, plugged in his flash drive into the classroom’s computer and turn on the projector. Someone who sat behind Raven, cleared their throat rather loudly making Professor Charles look up from the computer screen. He was about to address the student when his eyes caught something unusual. He removes his small round glasses, gave them a quick wipe, and placed them back on the brim of his nose.

“Ah. Mr. Wayne. Glad you could finally join us. I assume you will be with us till the remainder of the semester?”

“Yes. Professor.”

Raven tried so hard to pay attention she hadn’t been focused in her previous class but now this was ridiculous. Her mind kept screaming:

Ahh it THE Damian Wayne! Is he going to be OUR lab partner?

When did she revert back to a lovestruck teenager? He was just another classmate nothing more. Raven continue to try and focus on the lecture and take notes as the studious student she was. Her mind wondered again but thankfully this time it made her start doodling on the corner of notebook page. She was going to pay for it later, but Raven manage to write down some words she heard her professor say. Raven will have to go over one of her classmates notes after deciphering whatever her brain allowed her to retain. She allowed her hand to move to whatever direction it wanted, she wasn’t paying it no mind.

Raven stopped when she heard countless chairs screech, she looked up to find her classmates collecting their belongings and heading out the door. Raven shot a quick glance towards Professor Charles and he was erasing something he wrote on the white board. Panicked kicked in and Raven quickly wrote whatever was left of the assignment. Maybe she could ask someone for clarity on the homework through the class’ online portal? Feeling very disgruntle with herself, Raven started slamming her things into her backpack.

“A robin.”

Raven looked up to find Damian standing from his seat staring at her notebook. She then looked down and saw she had doodled a bird, though she wasn’t sure with herself if it was a robin. “I guess.”

“Your favorite bird?” he continued.

Damian was trying to make small talk. Why with her? “Not really, but birds are cool.” Brain stop talking. Raven was making a fool of herself; she flipped her notebook closed and slammed it into her backpack. Out the corner of her eye, Raven could still notice Damian just standing there. Was he waiting for a longer explanation? “I was thinking of some… thing that happened over this weekend. Made me draw a bird.” Truth was she had met someone but he didn’t need to know that little detail.

“Sounds interesting. I’m Damian Wayne by the way.” I know. “I have been away due to personal matters and would like to ask if you could assist me? I fear I may be a little behind and could use a study partner for this class.”

“Well according to the seating arrangement, we’re supposed to be lab partners for the whole semester. I’m Raven.” She extended her hand out and Damian shook her hand.

Damian smiled at her, “pleasure to meet you.”

Raven could had sworn she seen that smile once before, but couldn’t place it in her mind where she had seen it.

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A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this update, I wanted so much to happen but had to pace myself for the sake of this story. I am not sure when I will update this one next, trying to figure out a route that I like best. HOWEVER be on the look out this Friday for the first two chapters on my Dark Robin Au! I am excited to share with you all this fic, also because I want to multitask I will be sharing a chapter for another longer Damirae fic sometime this weekend.

Till next time!

~ S.Rose

#damirae #damiraefic #damiraeau #under an autumn moonlight #Damian Wayne #damian x raven #robin and raven #raven roth #dc robin

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vintagedolan · 4 years

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mixtape | track three

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

Indiana was sure she’d never had a longer Monday in her life, and Tuesday wasn’t looking any better. Her lecture droned on and she did everything she could to stay engaged, from downing the rest of her water bottle to doodling on the side of her notes.

Just as her professor started to move into the brachial plexus, she saw a small message notification appear in the top right corner of her laptop screen. A text, from Grayson.

Wyd? :)

It took all her power not to scoff in the middle of the room. The fact that he’d actually sent her a ‘wyd’ was almost too much.

learning, what’s it to yah

She scrolled to catch up with her professor, trying to keep up.

I’m bored

You want a vanilla oatmilk latte later, right?

Or did I not remember that right

Triple texter, of course. She typed out a quick shhh, unless you can teach me about the brachial plexus I gotta pay attention. I’ll text you when I’m out and turned back to her notes, scribbling out the diagram that her professor was drawing on the board.

But she still smiled when she got a p sure you just made that up but okay :) from him.

Lecture sped up after that, her professor moving much too quickly through the nerves and innervations of muscles within the plexus that she could barely wrap her head around. She was going to have to review all of it again to even begin to fully understand. At least it wasn’t chemistry like it had been last semester - anatomy she could handle because at least it was interesting. Before she knew it she was closing her notebook and laptop, throwing them in her bag and heading out the door in a bid to get to the hospital faster.

Little did she know, Grayson was waiting in line at Jet’s already, having come to the city much earlier than he needed to, toe of his Air Force One tapping on the tile as his nerves ran wild. He caught his reflection in one of the windows and paused to double check himself, just like he had that afternoon in his mom’s hallway, looking in the mirror that was hanging on the wall. Ethan had caught him in the act, and he knew it wouldn’t slip past him.

“Alright, spill. You’re being sus.” Ethan’s words were garbled by the PB&J in his mouth, but it still made Grayson panic a bit.

“Am not.”

“Cut the shit Gray, you only wear belts when you’re trying to impress somebody and I highly doubt you’re trying to woo over the kids. What’s her name?”

“I hate you.”

“Interesting name.” That earned him a middle finger.

“Indiana.”

“Actual interesting name. She cute?”

“Very. And smart. And funny too. Good with kids.”

“And tick tick tick go the soulmate boxes. You gonna try to make a move?”

“We’ve talked one time bro. That’d be bold.”

“Yeah, and you’re you.You fall in love when somebody blinks at you right. Case made. Let me know when the wedding is.”

Grayson didn’t have a comeback for that, so he just huffed a bit and let out a “fuck off” before he turned to head for city an hour before he needed to.

“Next… Next.”

He pulled his head up, realizing the line had disappeared in front of him. He moved up to the counter, hoping he’d remembered her order right since she’d yet to answer him again.

“Can I do a large dark roast, and a large vanilla oatmilk latte please?”

Down the line, a man with an impressive beard and large gauges perked up as Grayson put his card into the reader.

“Wouldn’t happen to be for Indiana Cross would it?”

He wasn’t sure what the right answer was, so he just went with the truth. “Yeah, actually it is.”

Based on the way that the man squinted his eyes at him, Grayson realized it was apparently very much the wrong answer.

“And you are?” He asked.

“Grayson.”

“Grayson.” He repeated, obviously waiting for an elaboration.

“I uh… I volunteer with her at the hospital?”

Right answer. The man relaxed, going back to making coffee with a nod. He tried to run through the possibilities while he waited for the drinks. Brother? Probably not. Ex-boyfriend? Possibly.

“She’s a good egg, used to work here before school got to be too much. You’re lucky to have a friend like her,” he said after passing over the drinks.

Protective manager. Not what he expected, but he understood. He had a feeling it wasn’t just him who had gotten attached so quickly.

“Yeah, yeah I am for sure. Thanks, have a great day.”

“You too…” he trailed off, waiting. He didn’t know if he’d forgotten his name already or just didn’t want to admit he remembered it.

“Grayson.”

“Right. I’m Patrick. See you around.”

“Yeah man, see you.”

Grayson headed out the door, balancing one cup on top of the other so he could text her quickly.

You at the hosp yet?

no, I’m not at the ‘hosp’ haha I’m walking there now

You didn’t text me when you got out of class

I’m hurt

boo hoo

Lemme just

Throw this coffee away real quick

hey hey now those are fighting words

oh shit I never texted you about the coffee, but you were right, vanilla oatmilk latte

I’ll give you a pass this time since you were learning about the brachial whatever

You’re lucky im awesome and remembered

wow

the most awesome

love to see it

just wait outside of jets, I’ll be there in a minute

Okay :)

He did as she asked, moving out of the steady stream of people that were on the sidewalk to watch people who passed, waiting for her. Every time he saw a head of blonde hair he perked up, until finally he recognized her moving towards him. She was dressed more casually than on Sunday, with a baggy crewneck on with her jeans and Air Force Ones.

She noticed him a moment after he saw her, so by the time she laid eyes on him he was beaming, putting his phone away and moving towards her.

“A large? You spoil me,” she teased, taking the cup from him gratefully. It was delicious as always, but she was more focused on his outfit – a tight black long sleeve shirt tucked into a pair of nice maroon pants, a large belt buckle resting on his waist.

“We match,” he grinned, pointing a toe out to show off his shoes. It was about the only thing that matched – she felt frumpy next to him in her comfy clothes that she wore to class. Even her Air Forces were dingy compared to his, dull and dirty.

“Uh huh, right. I didn’t know that our first joint Buddies meeting was a fashion show, give a girl some warning next time, will yah?”

“Oh shut up, you look cute.”

Her eyebrows went up as she looked down at herself, then back at him. He threw her back the same look of disbelief.

“Did I stutter?” He asked, practically daring her to argue with him. She just blushed and shook her head, taking a drink of her coffee as they started towards Frazier. They walked shoulder to shoulder and Indiana was grateful – it was fractionally less common in the colder months, but she always got her fair share of cat calls on the streets. After getting to know him, she didn’t find Grayson even slightly intimidating anymore, but she still had the image of him on that bench, broad and serious, and she knew it was no coincidence that everyone fell silent with him beside her.

It was a new feeling, having to hold herself back. She’d never had the urge to wrap her arms around someone walking next to her, reach out and hold onto their arm, even just reach down to hold their hand. It made her giddy and skeptical at the same time as she tried to distract herself, watching the cars drive by, honking at each other.

“Where’d you go?” Grayson hummed, bumping her just barely and pulling her out of her head. Her heart swelled a bit hearing her signature phrase fall so easily from his lips, which seemed much pinker than she’d last remembered as he took a sip of his coffee and waited for her answer. A few moments later he quirked an eyebrow – a very well-manicured eyebrow. Did he get those waxed? She resisted the urge to reach up and smooth down her own that she knew were bushy and definitely not as nice as his.

“Indiana. You good?” He tried again,

“Hmm? Oh yeah, yeah I’m good, sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I was just checkin on you. Do we have a plan for this meeting or do you normally just go with the flow?”

“Depends on the mood she’s in. I’ve got some stuff in my bag – cards, my school stuff cause she likes to help me study sometimes. Other times she just likes to play 20 questions or hang out and talk. You’ll be the new shiny toy, so prepare for a bunch of questions. Especially about your teeth earrings.”

He balked as they got to the doors, following her quick steps into the lobby.

“I’m sorry my what?”

“It’s not everyday someone has diamonds in their teeth sir.”

“Okay but they aren’t teeth earrings, give me some fucking credit.”

“Definitely teeth earrings.”

“Jewels.”

“Teeth. Earrings. Oh my god, I’m gonna introduce you as teeth earring guy.” Her laughter filled the elevator as they stepped in.

“Oh god,” he groaned, letting his head fall back against the side of the little box as it moved up to the second floor. Indiana gave her most mischievous grin when the doors opened, walking quickly through the halls. It took Grayson a minute to realize that she was trying to beat him to Bekah’s room and he sped up his steps, trying to keep it casual as he passed rooms of kids and families, walking as fast as he could without full on running down the hall. They didn’t see the nurses laughing at their antics, but they didn’t care. Indiana side stepped into Bekah’s room abruptly, so fast that Grayson almost knocked her over trying to stop behind her.

Bekah was up walking around in a hoodie and leggings, and when she turned she immediately pointed over Indiana’s shoulder.

“Teeth earring guy!”

They couldn’t help it – they both busted out laughing, Indiana grabbing onto his shoulder to keep herself from falling over. When they finally got it together he spoke up first.

“My name is actually Grayson, but you can call me teeth earring guy if you wanna.”

“I’m Bekah Newcomb. Mandatory intro spiel, I’m 15, stage 3 leukemia. My parents aren’t pieces of shit, they just work a lot so they’re never here. No siblings because why mess with perfection. Any questions?”

Indiana bit her tongue – she had forgotten about the spiel, forgotten that it was Bekah’s favorite way to test new people, make them uncomfortable. Her eyes flickered over to Grayson, but he had the biggest smile on his face.

“Only one, but it’s very important. You ready?”

“Hit me with it,” she said, anxiously waiting.

“Is cereal a soup?”

Indiana couldn’t have planned a better intro for the two of them – they bonded so quickly right there before her eyes, debating the constituting factors of soup, and it had her melting to see him interacting so easily with the girl who meant so much to her. Bekah didn’t even attempt to put up her usual front, just laughed and joked with him as if she’d known him for years. The hours flew by, games of war and BS passing the time as Bekah sat at the top of her bed and Indiana and Grayson sat at the end of it, knees touching as they resisted the urge to peek at each-others cards.

The only hiccup came when Bekah got her meds at 7, but she put on her best show for Grayson, managing to keep her stomach settled enough to avoid puking. It was the most fun visit either of them had had in a while, and Bekah fought her drowsiness until visiting hours were over at 8. Indiana had to be the voice of reason, starting the goodbyes before the nurses came to kick them out.

“Are you both coming back on Thursday?” Bekah called out as they headed for the door.

“Hell yeah we are. Want us to bring anything?” Grayson grinned.

Indiana liked the sound of us.

“Cereal, so we can test our theories.”

“You got it. See yah Thursday Beks.”

“See yah Thursday, Earrings.”

His laugh was so loud that the nurses at the desk peeked their heads around to see what was happening – but they were smiling up at the two of them as they signed out and started down the hallway they’d come up.

As soon as they cleared the ocean hallway, Grayson turned to her.

“Was that okay? Like was that good?” There was genuine concern in his voice, and Indiana had to bite back a laugh.

“Are you seriously asking?”

“Yeah, ‘course I am.”

“Grayson she loved it. She loved you. I haven’t seen her smile that big since she’s come in for this round of treatment. Were you worried about that?” She didn’t stop herself from reaching out and holding onto his shoulder, squeezing lightly as they stopped walking.

“A little,” he admitted, relaxing under her touch.

“You’re a natural, I told you that. I promise you did great, I wouldn’t bullshit you.”

He stopped walking for a minute, and there was an intensity in his gaze that had her stomach fluttering.

She didn’t know what she expected, but it definitely wasn’t for him to say “Can I take you to dinner?”

“Now?” Stupid answer.

“Well, it is dinner time. But if you aren’t hungry I could wait a while. Or if you don’t want to go, that’s totally okay, I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything just cause we’re doing this together and we share a buddy and-”

“I want to go to dinner,” she cut him off, and he could see the hesitation on her face.

“I sense a but coming…”

“But -”

His heart sank a bit - he’d fallen into the trap he always managed to get himself into, falling too quickly, making his move too fast. But it was natural to be next to her, to talk to her, to have her hand stay on his shoulder. He liked the feeling of her there, the sound of her laughter and the brightness of her smile, and he couldn’t quite hold himself back it seemed. It made the rejection he knew he was about to get hurt even worse.

“But, I have to study tonight,” she sighed, and there was a genuineness to it that had him breathing a bit easier. She actually seemed disappointed, and the hope he felt rose up again.

“Oh yeah, the biceps whatever thing, that shit sounded complicated.”

“The brachial plexus, but A for effort,” she teased. “No but seriously, I gotta get that shit down or I’m gonna forget everything she said about it today. But I really do wanna go to dinner, I’m not blowing you off.” She rushed through her reassurances, dropping her arm and starting to walk again, towards the stairs this time.

“I believe you. How about Thursday, after we hang with Beks?”

“Yeah, I can do Thursday!”

“Gang.” Fuck. He’d been doing pretty well at hiding all the slang he’d picked up in LA.

“Did you… what?”

“Nothing, pretend you didn’t hear that. Thursday sounds great. Oh, before I forget, can you bring some non-dairy milk with you when you come?”

She paused for a minute, looking up at him from a few stairs below like he’d grown another head.

“You want me to bring milk… non-dairy milk… to dinner.”

“No! No no, for the cereal! I just have a long drive and I don’t want it to get all gross and hot on the way, and since you walked I figure you live close by. I can venmo you for it.”

“Oh! Yeah, I can bring some, you don’t have to venmo me for it, no biggie.”

“Okay cool. Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t ask you to bring milk on a da- to dinner. Bring it to dinner. That would be… weird.” His cheeks burned hotter than he realized they could. The fact that he’d almost slipped and said date had embarrassment and panic coursing through every inch of his body, and he could already hear the way Ethan was going to laugh when he told him the story later.

Of course Indiana heard it, but the way he was blushing to his ears had her pretending she didn’t.

“Thursday it is then,” she grinned, opening the door of the stairwell and holding it until Grayson passed through. The massive windows of the lobby were painted indigo, washed out a bit by the city lights but dark nonetheless.

“Damn it’s dark,” he muttered. Even though it was beginning to get dark earlier now with autumn on the horizon, it was still much dimmer than he was used to.

“It’s supposed to storm the rest of the week, probably just the clouds,” she shrugged. She looked small for the first time to him, headed towards the doors.

“Can I drive you home? It’s really dark out.” The words came out before he could think them over - that seemed to be the effect she had on him.

“Oh, it’s okay! I only live like three blocks from here, by the time you get your car I’ll probably be home,” she reassured him with a smile.

“Can I walk you then? I don’t like the idea of you walking out there in the dark by yourself.”

She paused at the door, and he half expected her to turn and remind him that she was very much capable of walking herself. But she surprised him, as she always seemed to do.

“Yeah, yeah that would be really nice actually. If you don’t care.”

“No, I’d love to. You ready?”

She nodded and pushed the doors open, hair blowing back in the wind as she walked outside. The temperature had dropped significantly, the true sign of a storm coming through just as she’d suggested.

He took his spot beside her, shortening his strides so he didn’t stray too far from her, standing tall and broad. Indiana felt small next to him, but in a good way for once. It was even more comforting than earlier, and she took slower steps than she usually did, trying to draw it out as long as possible. She tried to convince herself it was because she wanted to procrastinate studying, didn’t want to have to tackle her notes, but in reality she knew it was because she didn’t want the night to end.

It was a comfortable kind of quiet, the bustle of the city streets creating the perfect background noise as they weaved down the sidewalks. Indiana felt like if anyone looked at them they’d be able to see the little bubble of nervous energy surrounding the two of them - it had her feeling like she was back in middle school, giddy because the cute boy looked at her for two seconds.

Much too quickly, her apartment building appeared, tall and imposing in the dark.

“This is me.”

“Damn, that really was a short walk.”

For once, she wished it had been longer.

“Thanks again for walking me.”

“Yeah, yeah no problem, anytime. Um… have a good night.” He could hear the awkwardness in his tone, felt like it was palpable in the city air.

“Goodnight Grayson. Drive safe.”

“Goodnight Indiana. Sleep safe.”

That earned him his new favorite smile, but only for a moment before she disappeared into the lobby.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

“Bro, will you fucking focus?”

There were few things that annoyed Grayson more than his brother taking too long to finish his reps on the equipment, but that day he’d become his own pet peeve. In his head, distracted, constantly checking his phone - and Ethan was beyond annoyed.

“Alright, out with it. The fuck is goin on in there?” Ethan smacked Grayson’s head lightly, concern starting to overpower the annoyance.

“It’s nothing, let’s just finish this shit before it rains again,” he huffed, moving to the single pull up bar that he’d built last year and starting his reps. The sky was a dreary gray, the cold of autumn starting to come in and clinging to everything it touched.

It wasn’t nothing. Actually, it was much much more than that, and Ethan knew it too, but he didn’t pry. Yet. He did his best to keep his brother focused for the rest of their Wednesday work out, encouraging him to get more reps, to push a bit harder. It didn’t seem to clear his head at all, and Ethan held his tongue for a few more hours, waited until they were both showered, in fresh clothes and in the kitchen making lunch for him to finally ask again.

“Is it the girl? Indiana?”

Grayson didn’t answer, but the look that he threw Ethan from his spot in front of the stove told him enough.

“What’d she say? Lemme see.”

He passed his phone over, moving back to stir soup he was making as Ethan read the message. Grayson remembered exactly what it said, even if his twin didn’t mumble it out as he read.

“Hey, about dinner tomorrow. Turns out my sister and brother in law are moving out of my place (finally) because Charlie got a new photography deal and I promised I would help them move :( but we could do dinner on Saturday night if that works for you still? If not it’s okay. What’s wrong with that?” Ethan asked.

“She doesn’t wanna have dinner,” Grayson muttered, watching the soup spin in the pot as he stirred.

“That is so not what that means. Is this seriously what you’ve been pouting about all morning?” Ethan had to bite back his laugh. He hadn’t seen his brother this in his head about something in a while, and he didn’t want to make him feel stupid for being worried. “If she didn’t want to have dinner, she wouldn’t have asked about Saturday.”

“How do you know? You haven’t even met her.”

“Cause I’ve had a girlfriend for two years. You just learn what they mean in their texts even if they don’t say it.”

The last thing Grayson needed in that moment was a reminder that his brother was in a very loving relationship, but he let it slide. Eden had come into their lives a few years back, a fireball of take-no-shit and feminine power unlike either of them had ever seen. It was a learning curve, and Ethan was determined to ace the test. Grayson was glad that he had - she’d become a sister to him, and she brought fun and laughter to their life out in California.

“Call Eden, see what she thinks,” Grayson said, scooping soup out into bowls for the two of them. Ethan did as he asked, pulling up facetime and letting it ring through until she appeared on the screen, wide smile bright against her tanned skin, California sun bright in the background.

“Hey baby! What’s up?”

“Grayson’s having girl problems.”

“Oooo I love girl problems, hand him over,” she teased, still beaming when Ethan passed over his phone.

“Alright hit me with it, what’s the tea?”

Grayson tried to give her the short version of how he and Indiana had met, but he found himself elaborating with each detail that he remembered, from every word of the text down to the way she said goodbye the last time he’d seen her, only the night before. It felt like longer than that.

Eden was quiet for a moment after he finally finished the story, but by her coy smile he knew she was just trying to figure out how to word everything correctly.

“Okay, so first off, just to clear things up, she’s not blowing you off.”

He wanted to believe her, desperately, but the doubt must have still been obvious on his face, because she rolled her eyes before she launched into her explanation.

“She texted you today instead of tomorrow, which probably means as soon as she found out she told you. That’s a good sign. She’s nervous too, that’s why she said ‘if not it’s okay’, cause she’s trying to give you an out if you want it.”

He very much didn’t want an out. He actually wanted an in.

“The fact that she reached out at all shows that she cares, and she’s trying to set up another time which definitely means she’s interested. Most girls would just wait to see if you would set up another one, that’s what I would have done. Tested to see if you were invested. But if she’s willing to do it, that means she must be pretty sure of you. Or totally oblivious to the fact that you like her. Either way, you’re in good shape.”

“Who said I like her?” He muttered, getting a barking laugh out of both members of his audience.

He let them fall into conversation without him, the quick catch up of their day that they’d been doing lately since they were on opposite sides of the country. It was hard for Ethan, but he managed it well, with plenty of sappy texts and nightly facetimes that would have Grayson gagging but secretly wishing he had someone to talk to like that.

He wondered what Indiana was like on facetime while he ate his soup. He wondered what her favorite color was, why she took oatmilk in her coffee instead of regular, what her class schedule was. Wondered what time she woke up on the mornings when she could sleep in, what she’d want to do on a real date, what her room looked like. He never realized how much mental space he had for someone other than himself or Ethan, and he found himself obsessing the smallest things, trying to ignore the butterflies it brought to his stomach.

Ethan didn’t help once he finished his call and started devouring his luke-warm bowl of veggie soup.

“Bro you’re in deep, I can tell. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get this attached this quick before.”

“There’s just something about her dude. It’s scaring me a little honestly. I’ve never felt like this about anybody, and I’ve literally only seen her twice. I mean, I barely even know her, but I can’t stop thinking about her. Is that weird?”

Ethan thought of about twenty comebacks that he could have used, but he bit them back. He could feel his twin’s anxiety, and he wasn’t about to add to it.

“Nah man. It’s not weird. It’s intense, but it’s not weird. And hey, if she ends up being the one someday it’ll make a cute story. You hear all sorts of people say they fell in love the first time they saw their person, who says that couldn’t be you, yah know? But hey, I gotta meet her before you go proposing or some shit.” He bumped his shoulder with a smile, turning back to his bowl of soup so Grayson didn’t feel like he had to respond right away.

He thought on it for a minute, trying to process everything his brother had just laid out on the table. And then he pulled his phone out, clicked on his new favorite thread to check, and typed out his reply.

Saturday date it is

See you tomorrow :)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Indiana Cross was never late. In fact, she was usually a minimum 10 of minutes early. But one too many outfits changes had slowed her down and she was cutting it too close for comfort - so close that when she looked out and saw the rain had started up again, she contemplated just running out into it and getting drenched instead of trying to make it back upstairs to get her umbrella.

She peered out into the street through the lobby doors, trying to decide if the drops would be enough to ruin her outfit, when something caught her eye.

A hand, waving quite cutely at her through the glass.

Grayson was outside, massive black umbrella over his head and a wide smile on his face as he walked up to the doors, waiting for her. He hadn’t said anything about coming to pick her up, but her heart fluttered at the sight of him anyways - she’d seen him just a few days ago, on Thursday, where they’d sat on Bekah’s bed again and ate cereal and laughed and joked. But it felt like it had been forever, and with the added stress of moving Charlie and Devin out, and the hard goodbye that she didn’t want to admit was hard, she hadn’t really relaxed since she’d last seen him.

He made sure there wasn’t a gap between the awning and his umbrella so she could duck under it without getting wet. As soon as she was under she made her move, if you could even call it that, and wrapped her hands around his bicep, trying not to gawk at how big it was. Instead, she looked up at him and scrunched her nose.

“Hi.”

“Hi there,” he beamed, and she could see the excitement in every single one of his features. “Figured I could walk you. You ready?”

She nodded, holding on to him as they started to walk down the sidewalks. His slow Jersey pace mixed with her short legs and quick New Yorker steps kept them perfectly in sync as they dodged puddles and soaked up the feeling of being together again.

The conversation flowed as easily as ever, Grayson asking her how moving Charlie out went, if she was sad to have her sister so far away. They talked about Cameron going to school in South Carolina, and how he and Ethan couldn’t spend more than a week apart without going crazy. She talked about school, the assignments she had lined up for the week, the exam she had already started studying for even though it was next Friday. Every time they got to a puddle that was too big for both of them to walk around he guided her to the dry part, walking lightly through the water so he didn’t splash her.

They got to the hospital much too quickly, and she let go of his arm reluctantly so he could pull the umbrella down and shake off the excess water before they made it in. Grayson led the way up the stairs and onto the unit, waving at the kids he saw, giving Andre a high five as he passed and asking the nurses how their shift was going. Indiana couldn’t help but notice the way the younger nurses - actually, all the nurses, seemed to be watching his every move, blushing and smiling at him as he passed.

She fought the urge to reach out and hold his hand, walking just a bit closer to him so their arms brushed against each other as they moved. It sent electricity through every nerve ending on her body, and she got so caught up in it that she almost forgot to stop him before they made it to Bekah’s room.

“Hey, one thing. I know we’re going on a date later, but let’s not have any… like us stuff, while we’re here. I don’t want Bekah to feel like a third wheel or anything, cause we’re here for her. Deal?”

“Deal.” There was a prideful look in his eyes that she couldn’t quite place, but she didn’t have time to analyze it before she stepped into the room.

Bekah was in her bed, curled up under the blankets on her side. Her head was wrapped in a light blue scarf - something her mom had brought her a few days prior, sweatshirts pulled down over her hands as she shivered.

Grayson’s face fell immediately, and he froze at his spot by the curtain. She looked sick, actually sick, for the first time, and it brought on a wave of memories and emotion that he wasn’t quite prepared for.

Indiana didn’t blink.

“Hey you. How are you feeling?” Her tone was soft, soothing as she moved to her bedside and laid a hand on Bekah’s shoulder, starting to rub against her cold skin.

“S’ cold,” Bekah mumbled, burrowing down further, so far that Indiana could only see her brown eyes and the dark skin of her forehead.

“Want me to go see if I can get you another blanket?”

She nodded weakly, resting her head back on the pillow as Indiana stood up and moved over to Grayson.

“You okay in here by yourself for a minute?”

Grayson nodded, half to answer and half to convince himself. She gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before she disappeared out the door. He stood there in silence for a moment, hands shoved in his pockets, unsure of what to do.

Bekah peaked her head out just enough for her mouth to be visible before she spoke.

“I’m not contagious, Earrings, you can come over here.”

The tension in his shoulders released and he walked over, sitting down as gently as he could on the edge of the bed.

“You’re weird,” Bekah said, eyes still closed. He panicked a bit, trying to keep his voice calm.

“Yeah? Why am I weird.”

“You don’t like being around sick people, but you’re volunteering at a kids hospital. Weird.”

“I don’t think anyone likes seeing people sick,” he murmured, trying to word everything very carefully.

“Indiana likes being around sick people because she likes to help. I think you like to help too but it makes you uncomfortable.”

There was no malice in her tone, but it still made him let out a dry laugh.

“You’re an observant one, aren’t you.”

“Not much else for me to do in here but watch people. But seriously, why’d you sign up to make yourself uncomfortable? Did someone tell you to?”

“Yeah, kinda. Someone told me if I could help that I should.”

“Your mom?”

“My dad actually,” he corrected quietly, toying with his fingers. Anytime he said his name out loud, no matter the form it took - dad, father, Sean - it was like he could feel it in his heart, a little tug on the original wound, a finger picking at a scab that wasn’t quite formed yet.

“I’ll have to thank him for that some time. I like having you around, no matter how awkward you are.”

“Well thanks Beks.”

He was saved from his devolving thoughts by a very excited Indiana coming back into the room with not one, but three blankets stacked in her arms.

“I declare it movie night,” she said, passing both of them their own blanket and rummaging for a remote, pulling up Emperor's New Groove before settling down into a chair on the other side of the bed. Grayson pulled one up so he could sit back, and without the distraction of conversation Bekah was out within the first 15 minutes, breaths deep despite the winces that she couldn’t hide. Indiana just ran a comforting hand over her arm until she lulled down further, tired muscles finally relaxing.

“She’s gonna be out the rest of the night, we might as well let her rest. You ready to go?” She asked after another twenty minutes, a bit of excitement returning to her eyes.

He nodded, moving to fix Bekah’s blanket over top of her one last time before he clicked the TV off and left her to sleep.

As soon as they signed out, he couldn’t hold back his questions.

“Is she getting worse? It seems like she’s getting worse.”

“Not necessarily. Chemo is weird like that sometimes, sometimes she’ll have good days with her meds, sometimes she’ll have bad ones. It’s just her body trying to fight for and against her at the same time. Exhausting, I would imagine. But she’s okay.”

“She doesn’t seem okay,” he said, looking back down the hallway before they went through the first set of doors.

“Hey.” He turned back to her, noted for a moment that her eyes were the same color as the painted jellyfish on the wall behind her. It grounded him somehow. “Don’t carry all this out here with you, it’ll wear you down. She’s in good hands, she’s sleeping, she’s safe. They’re doing everything they can for her, you’ve gotta trust in that.”

He knew that sometimes it didn’t matter how much they did, but he kept that to himself.

“You want me to compartmentalize.”

“A little bit, yes. It’s the only way you can survive something like this, trust me.”

He did. And he knew she was right. So he closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, let himself let go for a moment and breathe a bit easier. Without a hesitation, he reached a hand out for hers as soon as he opened his eyes, linking his fingers with hers.

“Okay. Let’s go on a date then.”

“Let’s go on a date,” she repeated, squeezing her tiny hand against his as they started down the hallway again.

He’d hatched a whole plan, ran the whole thing by both Ethan and Eden. They were going to get dinner at a little vegan food truck that he had made sure would be close by, walk the High Line for the last hour that it was open, and finish off with a late night coffee from Jets.

“Do I get to know the details of this date?” She asked while he opened the umbrella up outside and offered him her arm, almost as if she knew he was running through the itinerary in his head for the entire walk.

“Nope, you’re just along for the ride.” He grinned, trying to keep his confidence up as he started walking down the sidewalk.

For the first block, everything was fine. The rain picked up slightly, but nothing too bad, and it only made her hold onto him a bit tighter, leaning into him to avoid getting wet. He reveled in the feeling, holding himself back from leaning over and kissing her forehead.

The second block, things got a bit worse. The wind began to howl, thunder booming so loud above them that they both jumped. It seemed to shake the buildings around them a bit, and Grayson bit his lip, scrambling to think of what they would do if it got worse.

By the third block, all hell broke loose. The rain was coming down in sideways sheets, soaking their shoes and pants as Grayson tried to angle the umbrella and keep Indiana dry. It worked for approximately two seconds before the wind inverted the umbrella, leaving them both entirely exposed.

“Sorry, fuck, sorry!” He yelled over the roar of the rain, trying desperately to fix it as their shirts became heavy and wet. Their hair stuck to their foreheads, and when he pushed his back he saw that Indiana was laughing, laughing so hard that she leaned back slightly, clutching her stomach.

“C’mon, c’mon!” She grabbed his hand, dragging him along as they ran through the downpour. He followed her blindly, holding tight to her slippery hand as she weaved them through umbrellas and past people huddled under stoops.

When she pulled him into the lobby of her apartment building they were both laughing, breathless and giddy, so loud that a few people turned to look at them.

They didn’t notice.

“Your teeth are chattering,” Grayson laughed, reaching out to rest a hand on her quivering cheek. He was cold too, but he didn’t care. He hoped the blush he got out of her warmed her up a bit. “Not to invite myself up or anything, but do you care if I get dried off?”

She rolled her eyes at him, just taking his hand and leading him over to the elevator.

Unfortunately, a perfectly dry woman in her 40’s stepped on with them, and all it took was the sound of the water dripping off their clothes onto the tile for them to both break into a fit of giggles, Grayson’s mouth going wide in a silent cackle that had Indiana having to cover her own to keep from being too loud. She felt like a middle schooler getting scolded in the back of class until they made it to her floor, stepping past the woman with a muttered ‘sorry’ and wide smiles. They stared at each other until the doors closed, and then they were laughing again, holding onto each other’s shoulders as they tried to make it down the hallway and breathe at the same time.

Grayson was wiping tears by the time they got to her door, still giggling to himself as he started to shiver, his clothes getting colder by the minute. He took his shoes off outside the door, not wanting to track even more water inside as she opened the door

Her apartment was a bit warmer than the hallway, a welcoming and simple space with a small kitchen to the left and a cozy living room in front of him. Without realizing that he had even done it consciously, he had imagined her in a place just like this, with the big windows on the other side of the room covered in rain.

“Nice place,” he murmured.

“It’s no house, but it’s nice enough,” she teased. “Let me see if Devin left anything here that you can wear, hold on.”

She disappeared into a room on the right and he made his way into the living room, showing himself around. The picture frames on the top shelf caught his eye for a moment, and he smiled at how cute she looked as a baby, how beautiful she looked in her dress with her sister beside her. The woman holding her hands in the last one looked just like her, and he was about to ask when he felt Indiana behind him.

“That’s my mom. Nicole.”

“She seems like a great mom.”

“Yeah, she was.”

Grayson froze. Fuck.

“Shit, Indy, I’m sorry I-”

She put a finger to his lips. “It’s okay. But let’s not talk about it tonight, yeah?”

He nodded, trying to swallow down his guilt. He knew what it felt like to have that sprung on you without a warning, and he wished he could pull the words back out of the air, back out of her mind.

“Try these.” She passed him a pair of pajama pants. “I’m still looking for a shirt, I might have something that’s big enough for you. There’s a bathroom in my room if you wanna change in there.”

“I can just go shirtless for a while, it’s no big deal,” he reassured her. Her eyes went wide for a moment, and he saw her swallow.

“Okay. I’m gonna change now.”

“Okay. I’ll wait until you’re done.”

They stared at each other for a minute before Indiana finally moved, going into her room to start rummaging through her own clothes. She changed faster than she ever had, throwing on a pair of leggings and a crewneck with some comfy fuzzy socks before she was back in the living room.

“All yours. Um, do you want anything specific for dinner? I haven’t gone to the store in a while, and I would feel bad making somebody deliver in this weather,” she mumbled.

“Well, I’m vegan, but don’t worry if you don’t have anything, I can make it till I get home.”

In all honesty, he was starving, but he wasn’t about to end the date early because of a lack of plant based meal choices.

“I’ll see what I have, go change so I can put your clothes in the dryer with mine.”

He did as she asked, moving into her room. It was similar to the living room - white bedding, simplistic artwork in wooden frames on the walls. But above her bed were an assortment of vinyls, and he actually gasped when he saw the one in the middle.

“You listen to Cudi?!” He yelled, running back into the living room. Indiana was in the kitchen with a cucumber in her hands, but he made her jump so hard that she almost dropped it.

“Yeah, do you?”

“I fucking love Cudi dude, he’s the best artist of all time. I can’t believe you listen to him too.”

“Do I not give off Cudi vibes,” she laughed, putting the words in air quotes.

“No, you definitely do not.”

“What vibes do I give off then? Or do I not wanna know.”

“You don’t wanna know,” he grinned, flinching when she raised the cucumber like she was going to throw it.

“Go change Gray.”

He went back in, headed to her bathroom. It was much darker than the rest of the house, with a dark gray shower curtain adorned with wildflowers. He locked the door and stripped down quickly - his underwear were still damp, but he wasn’t about to go commando, especially if he was gonna risk having to hide a boner later. He had no idea how far the night was going to go, but he wanted to be ready for anything.

Standing there in the mirror in his boxers, he contemplated it for a minute, and then pulled a very 2016 Grayson move of dropping to the floor and doing a quick set of push ups so that his bare arms were a bit more swollen than they had been.

He pulled the pants on, groaning a bit at how long they were, and how tight they clung to his ass. Worried that he’d spent too long in the bathroom he picked up his wet clothes and headed back to the living room with the ends of his pants rolled up three times so he didn’t trip on them.

“You didn’t tell me Devin was a fucking giant dude! How tall is that mans?”

“He’s 6’5”,” Indiana laughed from somewhere he couldn’t see her, popping up with a loaf of bread and putting it on the counter. Her eyes went wide at the sight of him, so much tanned skin stretched over thick bands of muscle that it had her mouth dry. She swallowed again before she spoke. “Just sit those down, I can put them in the dryer.” “I can do it, are yours already in there?”

“Yeah, it’s over there.” She smiled and pointed to the doors in the hallway. He put them in and turned it on before he finally made it to the kitchen and saw the assortment on the counter. But she wasn’t looking at the food anymore - her eyes were all for him, and he felt himself fall nervous under her gaze again.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re just cute.”

“Oh yeah, these pants are what do it for you huh?” He gave her a little spin just to make her laugh.

“Did I stutter?” She tilted her head to the side just barely, and it took all his self control not to lean in and kiss her right then. Instead, he just shook the thought from his head and stood close enough to where her shoulder was against his arm.

“What’re we workin’ with?”

“Well. I’ve got apples, a few grapes, jelly, some lettuce, bread, peanut butter, a sweet potato and crackers. Sorry.” She was sheepish, and he just shook his head at her with a frown.

“Nothing to be sorry for. You trust my PB&J making abilities?”

“That depends entirely on if you cut it into triangles or squares.”

“Oh c’mon, it’s triangles all day,” he scoffed, getting a laugh out of her that had him floating.

“Then yes, I approve. Do you care if I study while you make them? I just have a few things to go over.”

“Do whatever you gotta do,” he reassured her, moving to open the bread while she went back to her backpack. She was back quickly, with a stack of flashcards in her hands.

“Here,” he cleared her a spot on the counter next to where he was working. “Sit up here, teach me some stuff.”

“It’s just vocab stuff, nothing interesting.”

“Just say it outloud, maybe I’ll learn something.”

And so she did, laughing at the way his brows would furrow and the incredulous look he’d give her when it was a particularly long word. He took his time on the sandwiches, moving to cut up two apples and split the rest of the grapes between the two plates that he found after looking through the cabinets.

He cleared his throat and held out the plate on the palm of his hand. “Bon appetit madam.”

“Why thank you,” she giggled, sitting her cards down and taking it from him gratefully. She stayed perched on the counter and he leaned back against the fridge, taking his own plate in his hands. She complimented the food as she ate, wiggling slightly in the cutest way. Finally, she spoke up.

“Since we’re here, do I get to know what the actual date plan was?”

“Nah, I’m saving that shit for the future,” he smiled, taking the last bite of his sandwich. Even he had to admit it was good despite the slightly stale bread.

“Oh the future huh?”

“Yeah. Like next week.”

“I’ll pencil you into my planner then,” she grinned, tossing a few grapes into her mouth.

“I can’t tell if that’s sarcastic or not.”

“It’s not. Writing everything down keeps me sane I think.”

“Hey, organization is sexy,” he laughed, biting down on an apple slice.

“Good to know.” Her words were a bit muddled around the bite she had in her mouth, and Grayson put his empty plate aside, content to sit and watch her finish her meal. It was so easy to be around her, and he didn’t second guess anything he did or said - he hadn’t realized until her how much he altered himself around everyone he met.

“10 outta 10 PB&J, I’m impressed,” she smiled at him, moving her plate to the side after a moment. He couldn’t help but notice the tiny bit of jelly clinging to her cheek, purple and sticky against her skin.

“You’ve got a little - here,” he stepped up to her, reaching a hand out and running his thumb over it to get it off. But he didn’t let go - not when she looked up at him with those bright blue eyes, just like the jellyfish on the walls, and then he watched her look at his lips once before he leaned in.

She tasted sweet, lips soft against his. They were both hesitant, not sure of how far to take it. Short and sweet, they separated and looked at each other. He felt like he could float away when she brought a hand up to his hair and pulled him back in for another. He moved a hand to the counter for leverage, leaning into her as she smiled against him.

“You taste like apples,” she whispered, and then they were both laughing like they had been all night, cheeks and stomachs sore in the best way.

“C’mon you, what do you wanna do with the rest of our date night?”

“We could finish Emperor’s New Groove?” She poised.

He moved his hands to her waist, pulling her off the counter as she squealed, sitting her on her feet and taking her hand, headed to the living room. Ten minutes later and he was leaned back on the couch, feet up on the coffee table so she could curl up against his bare chest under the blanket while she scrolled through the film, trying to find where they left off.

He hoped that she’d undershoot it - anything to keep them right there, in each other's arms; bliss, as the storm raged on outside.

#SHES HERE #I.... kinda love this chapter #mixtape #grayson dolan #grayson dolan fanfiction #grayson dolan fanfic #dolan twins #dolan twins fanfic #PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT

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kookoosbunnynose · 4 years

Text

Ch.1 || Ch.2

Pairing: Neighbor!Jungkook/FWB!Jungkook x Artist!Reader

Genre: Slowburn, Smut, Angst, Humor

Word Count: 11.4k

Summary: You’re an art student in need of a partner for your new collaboration piece, who is there to help you but your new neighbor, Jeon Jungkook. You two paint together but leave with much more than a colorful canvas.

A/N: Hello! I know! Dumb bitch finally updated the fic lmao. but i’m really excited about this part and even more excited for the rest of the fic. If you haven’t read chapter 1 yet go read it!

-----------------------------------

Thankfully, even though you didn’t get to bed by the time you wanted last night, after the whole ‘y/n is a dumbass and got locked out’ debacle, you woke up with enough time to take it slow this morning. Mornings like these were your favorite, no rush. Just you sitting at your vanity getting ready for your day, jamming along to whatever song comes on your shuffle, using various items as a makeshift microphone.

You’re in the heat of Colors by Halsey when there’s a knock at your door, you abruptly cut off your poorly tuned melody, feeling caught. You quickly finish the eyebrow you’re working on as you don’t want the person at the door to see you with the one and a half you’re currently sporting. Good enough.

You rush to your front door, careful not to let your fluffy socks make you slip on the linoleum. When you open the door only to be greeted by your fluffy haired neighbor. He looks good in the morning too? Well that’s just fucking peachy. You’re making this difficult Jeon.

“Good morning.” You smile trying to hide how distraught you are.

“Good morning, sorry to bug you” he smiles sheepishly. “I was just hoping I could steal an egg from you? We’re out.” He asks hopeful.

“Oh, yeah of course. Just a second.” You turn on your heels to grab an egg from the kitchen. When your face is hidden by the fridge door you take a second to take a deep breath before making your way back to him. “Just one?” You ask when you hand it to him.

“Yeah one’s good, thank you y/n.” He gives you a small bow and opens his door. “See you later.”

---

“Hello gorgeous.” Yoongi says as your trio approaches the counter.

“Morning handsome.” Jimin smirks and steps in front of you.

“I was talking to y/n.”

“Her?” He looks over his shoulder at you. “While I’m here? That doesn’t sound right.” He scrunches his nose as if he’s doing mental math.

“I’ll just get your usual started.” He says leaning to the side so he can see your face.

“Thank you.” You laugh at them swipe your card and take the blueberry muffin he slides your way. You step to the side and wait for your boys to order their drinks.

“Remind me why we still come here.” Joon asks the two of you as you make your way to the pick-up end of the counter.

“Because we’ve been doing it since we started uni. We’re old and stuck in our ways, Joonie. There’s no backing out now.” You reply woefully.

“What are we? Boomers? We can go to a different coffee shop.” Namjoon furrows his brows.

“Order for Sweets!” A now familiar boxy smiled boy behind the counter says.

“Oh no we can’t. Not anymore.” Jimin says his attention caught by Tae.

“Look who wants to fuck the neighbors now!” You whisper yell at them before stepping toward the counter.

“Ha! You admit it!- Wait, neighbor?” You hear Jimin behind you.

“Hi Tae! Thank you.”

“Hello y/n!” He smiles and leans in to make his voice hushed. “If you don’t mind me asking, are you and Yoongi a thing? He covers like half your bill and calls you pet names everyday.” He lists off the, admittedly odd, circumstances of your relationship.

“Oh, no we’re not. We just flirt back and forth. I think if he had any real intention behind it he would’ve asked me out by now, in my experience he’s pretty straight forward.” You chuckle.

“Ah okay. Would you want him to ask you out?”

“I did in the beginning but it’s been well over a year. As far as he goes, I’m sated with just the flirting.”

“Ah, I see.” He turns away to grab the next two cups. “Orders for Jimin and Namjoon!” He calls over.

“Why do you ask?”

He pauses for a second. “I was just curious, he’s kinda like that with a couple girls but you seem to be his favorite.”

“Well it’s been a while, seniority I guess.” You shrug and your counterparts join you at the counter. “Oh how rude of me, these are my roommates. This is Taehyung.”

“Ah, nice to meet you, I’ll probably be seeing you guys a lot. I’m across the hall pretty often.” You all chuckle. “I wish I could talk longer but I don’t want to hold up the line, see you!” He smiles.

The three of you give various forms of a goodbye as you leave to find your usual table.

“Okay, is no one gonna say it?” Jimin says once you’re seated and safely out of ear shot.

“Say what?” Namjoon asks scrunching his face at his hot coffee.

“What do you mean ‘say what?’” Jimin says blinking slowly at your brother. “What is in those boys’ cheerios?”

“Fiber?”

“No! You fucking tree!”

“Y/n really? Now he’s calling me that, too?” You shrug.

---

You take a breath in as you walk into the art studio, the smell of paint and pencil lead tickling your nose. You take your usual seat at a large table and check your phone for your list of assignments. The professor sends you a large list of all the assignments at the beginning of the semester. Giving students the freedom to choose what order they do them in, the only stipulation is that you must have half turned in by midterms and the other half by the end of the semester. A much more doable lesson plan than a lot of your past professors. Being forced to be creative is draining and doesn’t get you far.

You scan down the list of possibilities until you find one that catches your eye. Monochromatic self portrait (any color)? No. Pretend you have synesthesia and illustrate your favorite song? Eh, not today. Collaboration piece? Ugh, I can’t even if I wanted to. I need to find someone to work with. Create 5 random custom colors and paint a landscape using only those colors (5”x5”)? Sounds like I could get that done before I leave. Perfect.

You pop in your earbuds and get to work. Deciding acrylic would be best for a quick painting, you grab a pallet and a sizable glob of each of the primary colors along with black and white. A little red here, a little yellow there, and some white for this one. You continue putting in different combinations until you have five colors you’re happy with not worrying if they’ll make sense for scenery. Fuck it. Who says trees can’t be purple?

As you dip your brush into your small selection of paints and watch the way the colors glide onto the canvas, it makes a sense of ease wash over you. Breathing life into a piece no matter how simple creates a new little reality in it’s own right. Expands our universe one brush stroke at a time. In the least cringy art kid way possible, of course.

You continue your work, mouthing along to your music as you go. Rust tinted grass and a peachy sky coming together in a way that definitely isn’t realism but ends up having a sunset feel due to the warm hues you chose. Just a few touch ups here and there and you’re done.

You pack up your things and head home with your new little creation to dry completely overnight. It’s already mostly dry but the textured parts still have a way to go.

---

“I really need to go grocery shopping. Thank you again, y/n.” Bunny teeth shining as he leaves your apartment with a mug of tea in place of the hot water he showed up with.

Today is day… eight? Of a new routine has developed over the course of the week. Everyday without fail, whether it be morning or evening, an egg or a cup of milk. Jungkook comes over and asks for a small food item, thanks you, and returns home. No big deal, but it’s apparent that those idiots really need to restock their fridge. It’s like having a stray cat that comes around every night after you feed it once. A really big stray cat… with pretty hair, and a cute lip mole, that always smells like fresh laundry and citrus… anyway-

Time to officially start the day and pretend that little mental tangent didn’t just happen. Go team!

You finish doing some light makeup and throw on some ripped mom jeans and a black hoodie. Enough effort to look like you care, but still comfy. You throw your bag over your shoulder, slip your boots on and head out the door.

Finding parking on campus at this time of day is a nightmare and usually takes longer than just walking since you live just off school grounds. So you make your short walk and stop by the cafe by yourself. You usually go alone only once a week; there’s only one day where you’re the only one of your roomies to have a morning class.

You order, give Tae his morning hello and make your way to class.

Classes pass with relative ease. You listen and take notes; taking notes more so meaning doodling along the margins of your notebook than anything else. Really putting those scholarships to good use.

Art history, meeting with the theater department about painting props, studio, home.

You enter your apartment and are met with Jimin and Namjoon sitting on the couch about to start the obligatory bi-monthy screening of Your Name.

“Hey! Were you gonna start the movie without me?” You kick off your shoes and take a running leap onto your spot on the couch.

“No! We were waiting for you, we’re not monsters.” Namjoon retorts in defense.

“That’s exactly what someone who wasn’t waiting for me would say.” You narrow your eyes at your little brother at the other end of the couch.

“Would you two stop bickering for two seconds. It’s starting.” Jimin puts a hand over both your mouths from his spot between you.

“Sheesh, grumpy pants.” You grumble when he lowers his arms.

The movie is filled with the same sobs and ‘awe’s that it always is, always ending in tears for at least one of you. Breathtaking animation coupled with a heart wrenching story, no matter how many times you watch it, it never fails to amaze. As much as you would’ve loved more closure at the end of the movie, the ambiguous ending couldn’t be more poetic.

“Joonie, what would you do if we switched bodies?” You turn to your brother as the credits roll.

“Probably get a discounted coffee.” He deadpans.

“Oh, you’re no fun!”

“More money in my bank account sounds very fun.”

Your retort cut off by a knock at the door from your neighbor for his daily snack, so you settle for throwing the pillow sitting in your lap in his direction as you stand. Which he tries to swat away only to end up with a faceful of cushion. Ha, get got bitch.

“Do you need an egg?” You say as you open the door.

“Uh- No I’m good? Thank you for asking.” Tae chuckles, you freeze your eyes widening.

“Oh my god, I thought you were Jungkook.” You let out a stiff laugh and shuffle your feet in embarrassment. “Anyway, what brings you all this way?” You joke, attempting to alleviate a bit of the blush on your cheeks.

“I just wanted to see if you’d wanna chill with us tonight? We had a lot of fun last time. Nothing special, but I wanted to see if you were up for it.” He smiles. “You guys are more than welcome to join too if you’d like!” He shouts over your shoulder at the boys sitting on the couch when he notices them sitting there.

“Nah we’re good Jimin and I have a test in the morning, and if I don’t force him to study with me he’ll fail.” Namjoon says from the couch

“I would not!” Jimin turns to him offended.

“Okay, I’ll study alone then.”

“No, please help me.” He deflates.

“See.” Joon smirks. “Thank you for the offer though!” He calls over to Tae.

“No problem, next time?”

“Next time.” He echoes.

“I’ll hold you to it.” He points a slender finger in your brother’s direction. “What about you, y/n? Are you down?” He directs his attention back to you.

“Right now?”

“If that works for you, Kook will be back from work shortly, it’ll just be Hobi and I for a little bit.”

“Yeah, sounds good to me.” You smile. “Just let me go grab a couple things real quick and then I’m good to go!”

You scurry to your bedroom and take a look at yourself in the mirror, evaluating the damage the day has done to your makeup. Not bad. You give the apples of your cheeks a quick squeeze to bring back a little color, scramble to find your tinted lip balm, and fluff up your hair a little. There we go. Cute. Now to find something to bring with me so this little panicked face check isn’t a complete lie. Phone charger is good.

With your phone charger in hand and a revived complexion you head back out.

“Thanks for waiting.” Tae gives you a nod and you smile while you give your boys a wave as you walk out the door.

You walk into the boys apartment and are immediately greeted by a wagging Bread who you kneel to give a plethora of loves, giggling when he hops up and tries to kiss your face.

“Hey y/n!”

“Hey Hobi!” You say as you follow Tae over to the couch with Bread right on your heels.

“Glad you decided to join us. Kook will be here soon, he left work not long ago.”

“I gave her the run down before we came over.” Tae smiles.

“How have classes and shit been?” You ask them

“Not ideal. I pulled a muscle in my leg.” Hobi rubs his calf. “With a big performance coming up on friday, but the show must go on, you know.” He shrugs.

“Oh shit dude, will you be okay?”

“He does this at least once a semester.” Tae says waving it off, used to his friend pushing through his injuries.

“Yeah, it sucks for a bit but I’ll have some wiggle room to rest after this test.” He reassures.

“Okay good, just don’t die.” You chuckle.

“I’ll try not to.” He laughs.

“I’ve been doing a few surveys for my psych classes, would you mind if I get some data from you?” Tae looks to you, taking full advantage of the small lull in conversation.

“Tae no.” Hobi’s face falls and he rubs his temples.

“Do you find Chuck E. Cheese fuckable?” He asks, a genuine question mark in his eyes.

You blink. “What the hell kind of psych classes are you taking?”

“Just answer the question, y/n.”

You look at Hobi for some sort of answer, though you’re not even sure what your question is. “You’re gonna have to just answer him, he’s been on about it all day.”

“Fucking of course not. Why on earth would I want to fuck a rat? And even if I did, why would I want to fuck a robotic rat roughly the size of an entire kindergarden class?”

“First of all, he’s a mouse.” Tae corrects. “Second of all, THANK YOU!” He throws his arms up and flops against the back of the couch. “One kid in my class started this somehow and the room was surprising split. About forty percent of the people in that room said ‘Charles Entertainment Cheese’ was sexy! It got pretty heated, people were yelling that the opposing side that we ‘just couldn't handle his raw sexual power.’” He says exasperated with overdone air quotes. “So I’ve been asking everyone all day because I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

“I suppose I can see how that would plague your mind.” You laugh.

“Anyway!” Hobi interjects, clearly tired of the subject. “How are your things going, y/n?”

You chuckle at his wide eyes. “They’ve been good. I’ve been spending more time in the studio with midterms coming up. But I need to find someone to work with me on a collab piece. I wanna have it in by midterms so I don’t have to worry about it during finals.” you sigh at the thought.

“Awh, I would help with that but I already did that assignment and I’m not sure if they’d let me do it again with someone else?” Tae says with a small frown.

“I’d offer but the only thing I am versed in is drawing stick figures and arguably anatomically incorrect dicks.” Hobi chuckles.

“Thanks you guys.” You smile. “It’s alright though, I might just ask Jimin to get drunk and throw some paint at a canvas with me.”

“Hey! This reminds me, a couple days ago when you got coffee you promised you’d show me some of your work when we hung out next.” Tae looks at you sternly, arms tight across his chest. “The time has come Miss y/n.”

“Ah, I suppose I did.” You say as you grab your phone to show him your album of a bunch of your work. “Okay, but I’m no Van Gogh. Go easy on me.” You warn before you hand over your device to him; you always get a little nervous when you show people your art for the first time.

“Hey hey! None of that nonsense! If the way you talk about art is any consolation, then I’m sure the passion alone is enough to make it beautiful.” Tae gives you a stern look followed by a reassuring smile.

“Do you want me to cry? Because this is how you make me cry.” You chuckle and relent your collection of work over to him for them to inspect.

They open the first photo and you’re met with a mixture of a ‘holy shit’ from Hobi and a ‘wow’ from Tae, their reactions make you smile and your face heat up.

“These are amazing y/n!” Hobi says as Tae swipes through.

“Thank you guys so much, really.” You say blushing and all but clutching your chest.

You watch their faces intently as they go through, Tae stopping every so often to zoom in and inspect a certain brushstroke that catches his eye. They get toward the end of the photoset when you hear a key in the front door. You’re the only one to turn your head to see Jungkook walk into the apartment. He sets his keys down on the table next to the entrance and his feet stutter a little when he sees you on the couch with his friends.

“Hey Kook! Y/n was just showing us some of her art, dude she’s so talented!” Hobi calls over his shoulder.

“It’s really good, you should come take a look.” Tae adds, and you laugh nervously.

“That’s so awesome, I will.” He says looking at you with a smile. “I just need to talk to Tae, for a quick second.” He says turning his gaze toward him and tilting his head toward the hall.

“Oh, is it about that thing?” Tae grits his teeth and sucks in sharp breath.

“Yes, exactly, the thing.” He confirms vaguely, looking relieved.

“Is everything okay?” You furrow your brows and look at each of them.

“He just has a rash, no worries.” Tae tells you in a hushed tone as he stands up. All you can do is blink in response. Jungkook lets out an exaggerated laugh as they disappear into the dark hallway and out of sight.

Once they are safely in the other room Jungkook flicks Tae in the forehead.

“Ow!” Tae gasps.

“What the fuck was that for?!” Jungkook whisper yells at his idiot of a best friend.

“I was covering for you!”

“You could’ve said literally anything else! I don’t even have a rash!”

“She doesn’t know that!”

“Exactly, you fuck!” Jungkook whispers flicking him again. “Why is she here?! You didn’t warn me!”

“This is what I get for trying to help you?” Tae says rubbing his forehead with a pout.

“Hey! I was handling it just fine on my own!”

“Oh yeah, your plan to slowly raid the entire contents of her fridge was going so great!”

“I just thought!... I thought we would eventually talk or... something?” Jungkook says realizing maybe it wasn’t the best plan in the world. “That’s how my parents used to get to know our neighbors, they’d borrow each others sugar and shit.”

“It’d be easier to talk to her if you just hung out with her and I invited her over for you. You’re welcome! And your parents weren’t trying to fuck your neighbors, were they! Different goal calls for different strategy.”

“Dude gross, I hope not.” Jungkook scrunches his nose. “And I don’t… just wanna fuck her.”

“Aww, does Googie have a bigger crush than we thought he did.” Tae teases pinching his cheek.

“Fuck you. But thanks I guess… just warn me next time, will you?” Jungkook relents.

“You got it.” Tae says patting him on the shoulder. “I’m only kinda sorry though!” He whispers as he slips out the door. Jungkook follows him to join all of you in the living room.

“Sorry about that.” Jungkook smiles at you as he and Tae take their places next to you on the couch.

“No worries.” You assure.

“Kook you should take a look at her work, I think you’d like it.” Hobi says passing your phone over to him and your face heats up a little. “I was just telling y/n how you were really artsy in high school.”

“Oh, it was nothing.” Jungkook waves him off as he starts to look through the photos and stopping a little longer on ones that catch his eye.

“It wasn’t nothing.” Tae interjects. “Actually y/n, you mentioned needing a partner for that collab piece? Since I can’t assist, I’m sure Jungkook could help you out.” Tae gestures to the two of you.

“Oh no, I couldn’t ask him to do that for me.” You shake your head, looking at both their faces.

Jungkook tilts his head to the side for a second. “I wouldn’t mind at all, it would be fun. I might be a little rusty though.” He says with worried eyes.

“Really? you wouldn’t mind?” You light up. “That would help me out a ton. I’ve been stressing over that piece for weeks.”

“I’d be happy to.” He smiles bright. “I’m off on Saturday, we could work on it then. If that works for you, of course.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” You reach out to shake his hand, effectively sealing the deal. “Thank you so much.” you say and squeeze his hand a little.

“So Kook, I’m collecting data for my psych class-” Tae takes this opportunity to stain your moment of gratitude.

“I already told you, I’m not fuckin’ rats!” Jungkook cuts him off.

“He’s not a rat!”

“Which side are you on?!”

---

“Did I call it? Or did I call it?” Jin looks at you with his stupid smug ass face.

“Listen! It’s nothing!” You throw that damp rag you’re wiping down a table with in his direction.

“It’s not nothing! I can smell your pent up sexual frustration for him from here. You guys are gonna be alone for several hours making art together? What is he, Swayze?”

“Men and women can be platonic friends! You’re not thinking very progressively here, old man.”

“Of course, men and women can be platonic friends.” He says gesturing at the air between you. “But you and what’s his fuck, Junglebook, you said? You two, cannot.”

“Your lack of faith in me is astounding.”

“I wouldn’t call it a lack of faith in you, more of an educated assumption… And a lack of faith in both of you.” He smirks. Asshole.

“Fuck you.” You deadpan.

“You know you love me y/nie.” He blows you a kiss.

“You’re lucky I do.”

---

You: I can bring the supplies over whenever you’re ready, just lemme know! Thank you for letting me come over there, it would be hard for creative juices flowing with Joon hovering over us all night. Trying to figure out a deep psychological reason for me painting a flower yellow lmao

You: Oh! And wear clothes you don’t mind getting paint on, stains are inevitable :)

And send.

Okay listen to me you dumb bitch. You can do this. We got this. For fuck sake why are you so nervous? Pull yourself together! Just enough to prove Jin and Jimin wrong. Do it just to rub it in their faces! Fuck. What are you 12? We can hang out alone with him. This is stupid. I’m stupid. It’s fine. Everything is fine! Shut up.

Tight Buns McCute-Dog: You can come over now, I’m just gonna change real quick, the door is unlocked! (:

After receiving that reply, instead of him just cancelling, you were relieved he was still willing to help you. However it didn’t help the whole sweating from your ass cheeks with nerves, thing. So overall about the same. Great.

Doing an abstract painting in these mental conditions will result in accidentally painting several phallic shapes. A Freudian Slip of the wrist if you will.

After a couple deep breaths, effectively shoving half your feelings deep into the crevices of your mind, and changing his contact name, just for good measure. You grab all the supplies you’ll need and walk across the hall.

You struggle to open your door while balancing your small box of acrylics, easel and canvas in your arms. Deciding to abandon your easel in the hall for a second while you knock on your neighbor’s door a couple times before you turn the knob.

Bread is already eager and yipping at you for attention while you attempt to bring everything in and set it up to the side of the living room adjacent to the kitchen.

---

Jungkook opens your texts and mouths a small ‘oh shit’ not wanting to keep you waiting, but quickly regretting his decision to work out right before he saw you. He wanted to look a little extra muscley but didn’t consider that he’d be a sweaty mess after doing so.

He settles for telling you he’s changing and hopes you take a few minutes to gather your things so he can blow dry his hair a little.

Your presence in his apartment is made known when he hears his dog barking and scuttling around. He gives his hair a quick tousel, throws on one of his many black hoodies and a little spritz of cologne.

Jungkook emerges from his bedroom to find you fumbling with your easel. Cute.

“Do you need help?” he asks through a giggle.

“Nope! Got everything a hundred percent under control over here.” Your sentence punctuated by your canvas falling to the floor. “Shit.”

“Allow me.” he says handing you the canvas.

“Thank you.” you breath and run a hand through your hair.

“So what’s the plan? I hope you’re not expecting any Sistine Chapel level work from me.” he chuckles.

“A bunch of naked babies and a priest with the ears of an ass? I appreciate that you don’t bring that to the table.” you raise your brows.

“Point taken.”

“The plan is no plan. I mean I wanted to go for something abstract because it’s fun and doesn’t require a lot of brain power. Just put the brush where you think it should go.” you mime a couple brush strokes in the air.

“Sounds easy enough, paint from the heart.” he confirms, patting his chest for emphasis.

“Oh, I did think one of us could be in charge of warm colors and tints, and the other could do cool colors and shades, and see where that takes us.” you look up expectantly, hoping he likes your almost-plan.

“Sounds interesting.” He looks at the empty canvas, eyes scanning for possibilities. “Which do you want?”

“I’m partial to cool colors, myself.”

“Then today, I’m partial to warm.” he smirks. “So are we just feeling what we feel in the moment or is there an emotion we’re trying to convey?” He turns to you, eyes expectant.

You pause for a second, unsure if you should abandon the theme you were pondering for this piece before you knew Jungkook would be your partner in creation. “Is it too cliche if the theme was ‘love’?” You ask him hesitantly. Immediately regretting not just saying ‘nah man, just throw paint at that bitch.’

But much to your surprise.

“Not at all, it’s a ‘cliche’ for a reason.” He states nonchalantly. “Love is powerful. Whether it’s the painful bit or the part that makes you feel untouchable.”

A certain fondness hits his eyes that tells you he’s speaking from experience but you don’t pry.

“I’m glad you like the idea.” you smile, relief filling you after he doesn’t exhibit any signs of being uncomfortable.

He claps his large palms together. “Shall we get started, Miss y/n?” His gaze once directed at the blank canvas, now fully on you.

“Choose your weapon, Mr. Jungkook.” You feign a serious tone, giving him a small handful of various brushes. Keeping a few of your favorites for yourself.

You push your box paints toward him indicating he can grab what he likes. Normally you’re a bit protective over your art supplies, seeing as not only are they stupid expensive, but you care for your tools a lot. You wouldn’t let your klutzy brother within a ten foot radius of your things when you were growing up and even now your blood boils if he’s anywhere near your expertly sorted colored pencils. But Jungkook is always gentle and seeing the way he meticulously places small globs of white, reds, and yellows onto his palette, you know you’ve made a good choice in trusting him.

He steps slightly back letting you put the first ceremonial brush stroke of charcoal black diagonally across the upper most half of your canvas. He joins shortly after deciding to start with white in contrast with your black, laying down some bases for shapes and choosing to run his brush through to disturb the various lines you’ve made, dragging the two tones into a fading grey.

As your mind wanders towards the way his slender tattooed fingers wrap delicately around the paint brush you quickly come to the conclusion that it’s time to play some background music. Absentmindedly sticking the handle of the brush between your teeth to grab your phone and open your music library.

“What kind of music do you like?” You turn to him, the thin strip of wood in your mouth giving you a slight lisp.

“I’m not picky, play whatever you want.” he says warmly but his brow still furrowed with concentration while he finishes up his base layer.

As his answer didn’t do much in the way of helping your quest, you opted for the safety of one of those throwback playlists spotify procures for their listeners, the 90’s one to be exact. Everybody loves some good nostalgia, and it may aid in the sincerity of your painting. Past emotions and whatnot.

The first song that comes on after you hit shuffle is Heart-Shaped Box by Nirvana and you hum in content. Jungkook on the other hand is pleasantly taken aback by your song choice.

“Oh shit yeah! I love Nirvana!” He smiles brightly, taking his crinkling eyes off his work for the first time since you started.

“Everybody loves Nirvana.” you tease him and roll your eyes at the possibility of him being one of those frat boys that ‘misses Kurt Cobain so much’ but can only name Smells Like Teen Spirit and maybe Aneurysm if you’re lucky.

Jungkook, sensing your tone, smirks and runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “You think so, huh?” he bemuses, rolling up his sleeve to uncover this inked skin. Across his forearm is a quote reading ‘rather be dead than cool,’ a lyric from their song Stay Away. He watches you with a quirked brow.

“I stand corrected.” you hold your hands up in defense. Trying not to let the way his inked skin hugs his veins increases your heart rate become too apparent on your features. “You do indeed love Nirvana.” your emphasis on the word being placed differently this time.

“Never doubt me again y/n.” He eyes you suspiciously. “I’ll get more tattoos just to spite you.” He narrows his eyes to add validity to his semi-empty threat.

“I will never doubt you again, scouts honor.” you say playfully saluting him.

“Now start the song over. Your lack of faith in me, made me miss half the song.” he points a finger at your phone.

“I can’t, I don’t have premium.” you let out a heavy sigh.

“What?! That’s dumb. You suffer through those god awful ads?” He screws his face up in disgust.

“Eh, I don’t mind too much.” You shrug. “I don’t wanna spend the extra money every month.”

“Okay, I guess that’s fair.” He squints at you as you pick up your brush again. “Why don’t you just use my account? I’ll text you my login.” He says fishing for his phone in his pocket.

“That’s completely unnecessary.” You laugh, and wave for him to stop. “You’re already helping me out so much with this.” you gesture to the now less blank canvas in front of you.

“I really don’t mind. What’s the worst that could happen? We expand our music libraries? Oh no!” he pretends to gasp and you roll your eyes. “And besides, I’ll sleep better at night knowing I saved a soul from those creepy ass vitamin water commercials.” He chuckles.

“You really don’t have to.” Your eyes softening at his seemingly endless stream of kindness.

“Already sent you the login, too late.” he says, sucking in a breath as if to say ‘what a shame.’

“Thank you, Jungkook.” you say as you gently grab his forearm and run your thumb over it.

“You’re welcome.” He smiles. “Back to work now!” he declares, sticking his paint brush, that at some point in your conversation tucked it’s way behind his ear, into his small mountain of yellow.

You work like this together for a while. Humming along to your music, that is now playing off Jungkook’s phone after he insisted he didn’t wanna hear ‘Colonel Suck-My-Ass’ sing about his chicken deals one more time. The two of you working together seamlessly; the way you blend your colors and make textures complimenting each other nicely. Switching sides of the canvas every so often so it remains balanced.

After about an hour of being immersed in your work Jungkook turns to you. “Noodle break?” He asks you frowning at his empty tummy.

Your brush stutters on the canvas at his words, your stomach not realizing it’s been hours since you’ve eaten until he mentions food. “That sounds wonderful, actually.”

“One or two packets?” he asks making his way into the kitchen.

“Just one is good.” you smile, setting your brush into your cup of water. You follow him into the kitchen. “Where do you store your liquid?” you ask standing between the pantry and the fridge, looking lost.

“Fridge.” he answers giving his approval to let you grab the two of you some drinks.

“I see you guys finally went grocery shopping.” you chuckle at the butter and cartons of eggs in his fridge.

“What?- oh right, yeah. Finally dragged Hobi out earlier today.” His smile not quite meeting his eyes while he opens up three packets of ramen, and waits for the water to boil.

“Can I steal a soda?”

“Yeah, just not the sprite. Hobi can and will throw a fit.” his tone far more serious than the situation calls for.

“Well damn, okay.” you say and grab a coke for both of you.

“Thank you.” He smiles and your fingertips brush perhaps a little too long when you hand him his drink.

He pulls the tab, puts the cold metal to his lips and you watch the way his throat bobs up and down with every swig. When you feel yourself staring your ears heat up, and turn your gaze to the water starting to roll in the pot.

As Jungkook is finishing up cooking the ramen, the song changes to Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls, you let out a small gasp and start to sing along. He smiles at your apparent love for the song and starts to harmonize with you to encourage you to keep going. Which, much to his dismay, did the exact opposite.

“Jeon Jungkook!” you scold. “I didn’t know you had such a beautiful voice!”

“It’s alright, I guess.” He breathes out and rubs the back of his neck a little embarrassed. “You’re not too bad yourself.” He looks at you with those big doe eyes. And you swear you’ll only look at them for a couple more seconds, as not to fall under their spell. A half hearted oath at best.

But you start to sing again, you tell yourself it’s to make the most of the song while it’s on but really, you just want to hear honeyed voice hit your ears again. And it does, eyes closed tightly and mouth wide to control his sound. You can’t hold a tune to save your life but the way he carries your sounds with his, it doesn’t matter. Your song is beautiful.

After your musical interruption, you take your bowls to the table and slurp away at your noodles. All the while Bread is at your heels begging ever so sweetly, which Jungkook scolds but ultimately ends up throwing him a noodle when his bowl is just about gone.

You take your bowl to the sink but when you start rinsing Jungkook comes over to push you out of the way so he can take care of it himself. You stand your ground for a minute but lose the silent argument due to his advantage of stature. You mutter a small ‘fuck you’ before you return to the canvas, and he smiles contently to himself.

Jungkook joins you back at your station, stepping back for a moment to assess where the two of you left off and what he’d like to add. He lets his eyes run over the varying sized lines and the way they come together but also fight one another in some spots. Some colors as bright as the sun and others look like the depths of the ocean. All coming together in a way that only really makes sense to the two of you.

You finished what was left of your drink and picked up your brush, dipping straight into your black paint for the second time since you started like you were on a mission. You drew a fluid line near the center curving over a few existing splotches, near the end of your brush stroke it became jagged and split off into several directions. A pessimist would call it a shatter, an optimist would call it several opportune paths, and a realist would probably just call it a painting. But Jungkook did none of those things.

“Y/n, have you ever been in love?” He asked as if he had only asked what time it was. He started swirling some colors together while he waited for an answer.

You blinked, trying not to show how much that question shocked you. “I suppose…” you breathed, actually struggling to come up with a real answer. “I mean, last time I was in a serious relationship was in highschool.” You trailed off. “I don’t know if I can say I’ve been in love but I’ve loved someone before… I feel like being in love sticks with you in a different way. More of a life experience than a life lesson.” You scrunched up your face a little, hoping he’d be satisfied with your answer even though you yourself weren’t.

He nodded, taking in your words. “I think being in love can be just as much a life lesson as ‘lesser relationships,’ if not more so.” He adds putting air quotes as not to come across the wrong way. “But hopefully you end up with more positive lessons than not.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Like learning how you love and need to be loved. What you deserve and what you won’t put up with. Learn to let yourself be loved-” You stop your word vomit after that last comment, feeling a bit vulnerable. “Those kinds of things?” you let out a little laugh.

“Exactly.”

“Is it fair to assume that you have?” You question, hesitating slightly.

“That I have what?”

“Been in love, dummy.” You laugh, strategically placing a light green around the canvas.

He pauses slightly. “Yeah, I have.” The same fondness that found his eyes earlier that day sets in again. Not in a painful or bitter way, you noted. But in the way you’d regard your favorite childhood memory.

“I didn’t rub salt in a wound, did I?” you tensed slightly incase you read him wrong.

“No no, you’re fine!” He reassures. “It was a long time ago. Don’t get me wrong, it hurt like a bitch in the moment, but as they say, time heals all wounds.” he shrugs.

“Can I ask what happened?” You prompted, feeling a little braver this time.

“Well you know, same old story with high school sweethearts.” He paused to fix a spot he didn’t like. “She was a year older than me. She left for university. We tried long distance and after a few months we decided it was too hard. Nothing particularly spectacular.” He tells the story, for what you can tell is at least the thousandth time. “What about you and Mr. Not-Quite-In-Love?”

“Nothing, super special either. Unfortunately, the lessons I learned from him were less than positive. After the initial honeymoon phase, he didn’t treat me the best. Looking back I learned to know the level of respect I deserve, but in the moment his lack of just made me desperate to ‘earn’ it. It was a vicious cycle for about a year but things ended and I grew up. And like you said, ‘time heals all wounds.’” Jungkook looked at you with furrowed brows, not sure if he wants to hug you or the seventeen year old girl you used to be who would see herself as anything less than what she was. But he settled for the former.

He wrapped his arms around you, taking you by surprise. But you accept his embrace and smile against his shoulder. “I’m okay now Jungkook.” You giggle. “It was a long time ago and I learned from it.”

He pulls away. “I know, I’m just sorry it took that dickbag for you to know your worth.” he gives you a sheepish smile, and a fire in his eyes dulls when he looks at you.

“Thank you, you’re very sweet.” you pat his arm before you both turn back to your respective parts of the canvas.

“Hey, just cause I’m not a complete asshole, doesn’t mean I’m sweet.”

“I’m holding firm at you’re sweet, and you can’t change my mind.” You both laugh and return your full attention back to your work.

Your rhythm returns to where it was before you ate. Both of you humming along to whatever song is playing at the moment, using your paint brushes as microphones if a particularly good song came on. Exchanging a few words here and there. Each admiring the small things the other chooses to add to the work of art. You noticed Jungkook has a habit of biting his lips when he’s concentrating. Cute.

Now here you finally are after another hour of blending, layering, and tweaking. Both of you put down your brushes down and stepped back slightly to admire what you’ve created. Letting out a sigh at your hard work, taking in the finalized piece. The way the colors run together or bump into one another. The juxtaposition of fluid lines being interrupted by jagged edges. The way the soberness of the colors you put down calm and soothe the firey and vibrant ones he laid down for you.

Ordinarily, when you finish a painting, you never quite feel done. There’s always one more thing you could fix, one more stroke you could add. But not this time. It’s finished. Breathtaking in a simple way. You’ve never felt such a sense of completeness when you set your brush down, and you can’t help but feel you have Jungkook to thank for it. The way his colors and brush work complemented yours was… for lack of a better term, a work of art.

---

Jungkook puts down his brush, watching you lay down your final touches. Truth be told he’d been watching you out of the corner of his eye the entire time. Checking in on you every so often when you’d put down your tool and furrow your brows in concentration. Smiling when you’d absentmindedly mumble to yourself about what you’re doing. He was in awe of how much of yourself you put down on the canvas, not entirely sure what wordless stories you were telling meant. Though that didn’t stop him from taking the puzzle pieces you laid down and arranging them into a y/n shaped jigsaw in his mind. Perhaps your fondness of calming colors was to tame the wild fire he could see within you.

And just as quickly as you’d started, you were done, setting your brush down and smiling at what you saw in front of you.

“Thank you so much, Jungkook.” You breathe still taking in the painting. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, it is.” He says just above a whisper, never taking his eyes off your beaming profile.

“Hm?” You turn to him. He looks into your eyes, once filled with fire are now a calm ocean. His gaze shifts to your lips after they form a confused pout at his silence, his body leading his brain when he leans toward you.

It’s now or never.

He leans in further looking into your eyes for any sign of apprehension before he cups your jaw in his paint stained hand. Finally taking the leap all at once when you lean into his touch.

His lips are even softer than you imagined when they meld against yours. He pulls away slightly to look at you a question mark across his features. You put your hands flush against his hard chest and answer his question by reconnecting your lips with his with fervor and you feel him smile against you. He deepens the kiss, putting his free hand on your hip to pull you closer to his warm body.

He swipes his tongue along your bottom lip, testing the waters further. You mirror his action, noting that his lips taste faintly of strawberries. You slide your hands into his soft hair and curl your fingers into fists against his scalp making him groan into your mouth.

His hand that held its feather like touch against your face leaves it’s place to join his other around your waist. His hands squeezing harshly at your hips, his fingers digging into the strip of skin your shirt rode up to expose, making you shiver against him despite your rising temperature.

He pulls away to place sloppy kisses along your jaw, nudging your jaw with his nose gently to gain access to your neck. You suck in a breath when you pull him closer causing his teeth to graze your pulse point as his swollen lips leave rosey marks in their wake. He sucks harshly at the soft spot below your ear causing your nerves to flare and a moan to escape your lips. He groans in satisfaction at the way his actions affect you, running his hot tongue over your skin to soothe the marks he made.

His hands move higher on your abdomen slipping just under the hem of your shirt, making you tense slightly under his calloused palms, he feels your shift and rubs his thumbs below your ribcage to relax your tensed muscles. His gentle fingers vastly opposing his flushed cheeks when he brings his face up to yours again, his hair already messy and his eyes dazed as he looks at your lips like they’re the first glass of water he’s seen in days. He crashes his lips back into yours hungrily causing you to squeak at his desperation. You disconnect your lips leaving almost no distance between you.

“Bedroom?” you ask lowley against his lips, your vocal chords betraying you making the word come out far more shaky and less sexy than you wanted. His shoulders flex under your hands at his request.

Jungkook slides his hands down your ass to squeeze the flesh in his hands when his finger tips graze the back of your thighs.

“Up.” he says firmly, offering you free transport to his bed. You hop up, his strong arms hold you and you wrap your legs tightly around his narrow waist. He starts the small walk to his bedroom, and you try to ignore the way his stomach pressed against your clothed clit is providing the smallest amount of friction with each of his steps, instead deciding to direct your attention to him instead. You give a gentle open mouthed kiss to the small mole on the side of his neck, you make a small path sucking where his jaw meets his neck, and he hums deeply making his chest rumble against yours in response.

When you reach his room, the smell of his fabric softener fills your lungs as he presses your back against his now closed door. His hands trail from your ass, trusting you to hold yourself up around him, up your sides, he slides your arms from around his neck and to the wall until your hands are effectively pinned above your head. The air between you is heavy for a moment as his dark eyes take in how you look like this, your eyes starry as your chest rises and falls in anticipation of his next move.

He kisses you again, slower this time. You whimper into his mouth when his hips grind his hard dick into your clit. His thighs flexing under yours as he grinds up again harder, swallowing as many of your beautiful sounds as you’ll give him.

He stops his hips and tucks his arms under you again to set you on his bed.

You reach your shirt to pull it over your head but he stops you.

“Let me.” He says half a statement, half a question.

You smile and say nothing but grant him permission by raising your arms above your head. He hooks his fingers into the hem of your shirt grazing your skin making goosebumps blossom on your flesh as he pulls it up and over your head. He reaches for the clasp of your bra slowly and gently like you might break, as if he wasn’t just shoving you against his door with his cock.

“Fuck.” He breathes out harshly when your hardened nipples are finally released to the cool air of his room.

He quickly strips off his hoodie revealing that he’s been painting without a shirt underneath the whole night. Your breath hitches as all the times you’d touched his arm or chest the hours prior, not knowing there was only a thin barrier between your fingers and his skin. You run your eyes over his bare chest and hard stomach, you knew he worked out but hot damn, those baggy clothes he wears does no justice to what’s under them. However he doesn’t give you much time to marvel before he reconnects his lips with yours leaning into you until your back is on his duvet, you spread your legs to make room for him to settle in between.

His hot skin drags softly against your nipples as he descends down your frame to pepper kisses along the valley of your breasts. He licks his fingers to roll one of your nipples between his wet digits while he attaches his mouth the other, swirling his tongue in intoxicating circles. You sigh at the small relief his mouth is bringing you and tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging roughly when his teeth bite down onto your sensitive bud. You feel the bed bow slightly below you as his hips stutter at your action. He quickly tends to the small sting with his tongue. Giving a gentle kiss to your nipple as he pulls away.

He sits up and hooks his fingers into your pants, but stops before tugging them down. “Is this okay?” He asks sincerely.

“Very.” You say, your heart clenching at his concern and help him slide your pants to your ankles, eager to have his soft skin on yours again.

He brings his lips to your neck again and you wrap your legs around his waist rocking your hips up to rub your neglected clit against his rigid cock that he has yet to spring free. The wet spot on your panties rubbing off onto his sweats. You moan into his ear at the small relief you’re able to bring yourself, arching your back further in attempt to get more friction and he chuckles against your skin.

“Patience, sweetheart.” He smirks down at you and your feeble attempt to feel his cock.

“Don’t wanna be patient. Want you to fuck me.” You say trying your best not to whine, as you reach for the waistband of his pants.

He runs his tongue along his lip and leans down until his lips brush the shell of your ear. “Oh, don’t worry beautiful, I will.” He moves your hands and rolls his hips into yours once to punctuate his sentence. “But I wanna taste you first.” He says and quickly sits back on his knees to slip your underwear down your legs, tossing them behind him not worrying about where they land.

He settles his shoulders under the back of your thighs and makes a path of open mouth kisses from your knee to your inner thigh, stopping right before your sex and inhaling deeply as he sucks a bruise into your skin, your face heats up and your hips shake in excitement.

“You smell fucking delicious, sweetheart.” he looks up at you with soft doe eyes that completely contradict his filthy words. He lingers just a whisper away from where you want him and you roll your hips to meet his lips. He smirks again at your frustration moving his lips to your other knee to make a wet path up your other leg with his mouth, seeing how long he can push you. Stopping midthigh to speak again into your skin.

“I wanna take my time with you sweets. Greedy little girls don’t get to cum on my tongue.” His eyes darken when they look up at you, his words sending electricity through your nerves and arousal dripping onto his sheets.

You opt for silently nodding as the only thing you could muster at the moment is a whine that you want to keep at bay.

“Are you gonna take what I give you, sweetheart?” He says rubbing circles into your hip.

“Yes, Sir.” You breathe trying your best not to roll your hips into his touch and get scolded again.

“Good girl.” He smiles at your compliance and finally gives you what you want.

He licks a long flat stripe up your slit, collecting your arousal on his tongue and swirling it around your throbbing clit. Your thighs tighten around his head and he groans against you.

“Taste even sweeter than I imagined.” He all but moans into your folds. He swears he could get off just like this, with his tongue buried in your cunt and his hips rocking his cock into his mattress.

You reach down and tangle your fingers in his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you. He obliges you and wraps his lips around your clit sucking harshly, crude slurping noises filling the room but both of you are too lost in the sensation to care. Your hips start rocking against his mouth again, this time your body fully taking a mind of its own, your climax being the only thing you can think about.

“That’s my good girl, use my tongue to get off.” You moan louder at his words and speed up your movements, balling his hair into fists. As he looks up at you with lidded eyes, he gets lost, lost in your taste, lost in the way your sweaty chest heaves with your heavy breaths, lost in the way his name falls from your lips with your eyes screwed shut.

“I’m s-so fucking close!” your voice comes out in a strained moan cracking at the end of your sentence.

“Cum for me beautiful, wanna taste your cum.” He says wrapping his lips around your clit again to pull your orgasm from you. He may have called you greedy, but he couldn’t get enough of the way your thighs shook around him.

“Holy shit! Jungkook!” your orgasm hits you like a wave starting in your stomach and sending fire through your veins. Your hips stutter and Jungkook licks you languidly through your high. All the while your mouth mutters his name in an incoherent mantra.

He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and climbs over you leaning on his forearms, and captures your lips in his. You taste yourself on them and smile against his mouth.

“You look so beautiful when you cum.” He says placing soft kisses along your jaw. And you’re glad he can’t see the way your cheeks flare at his comment. “Think you can still take my cock?” he says squeezing himself at the base through his pants.

“God yes.” You say perhaps a little too enthusiastically and he chuckles at you.

“You really are a greedy one, aren’t you sweetheart?” He says teasingly. “Let me get you ready first.” He says rubbing his thumb in small circles on your clit, your sensitivity makes you jump a little.

He looks down to watch the way your velvet walls swallow his fingers, but he stops his movement, realizing his hands are still covered in paint.

“Shit.” He mutters almost silently. “I’ll be right back.” He says with a smile pecking your lips before he slips out his door. Closing it behind him just in case, as not to let Hobi unknowingly come home early only to find you spread eagle on his roommates bed.

What the hell is he doing? Your eyebrows furrow, worried he’s gonna get some sort of convoluted sex toy. Which while you wouldn’t normally object, that’s a tad presumptuous on his part.

Your mental ramble cut short and worries put to rest when he reenters the room with clean hands. He strips his sweats from his hips and climbs back over you.

“Sorry, I didn’t want you to get some sort of paint-chemical related rash on your… lady bits.” He says hesitantly breathing out a laugh against your cheek.

“While that’s incredibly considerate of you. That sentence didn’t do much for my ‘lady bits’.” you know what his venom filled tongue is capable of, so his childish use of words makes you giggle.

He rolls his eyes at you and cups your face, pulling you in for another deep kiss. His hand snakes down between your legs and when his thumb connects with your clit you squeak and break the kiss.

“Your hands are freezing.” you say with more of a pout than you’re willing to admit. You presume he didn’t wanna make you wait too long so he washed his hands in cold water.

“Why don’t you warm them up for me?” he quirks a brow and smirks. Bringing his hand up to your mouth and sticking his middle and ring finger between your lips. You happily wrap your lips around his digits; licking, sucking, and humming in content around them.

Jungkook’s cock twitches in his boxers as he watches your cheeks hollow slightly around his slender fingers, resisting from pushing them deeper in your mouth and seeing how pretty you look when you gag for him.

He removes his hand from your mouth, marveling at the string of saliva that follows it. He reaches down to tease your entrance letting your spit and arousal get you ready for his stretch. He slips his fingers into your dripping core and has to hold back from moaning at how well you hug him.

“Your pussy is so tight, sweetheart.” He breathes. “Your sweet cunt is gonna squeeze me real well won’t it?” He says catching your bottom lip between his teeth. You can’t help but clench around his fingers. “That’s my good girl.” He says, his eyes darkening and he curls into your sweet spot, you moan at how quickly he seems to be learning your body. Like he could figure out exactly what makes you tick if you stayed in his bed for just a while longer.

He removes his fingers making you whimper. He slips his boxers down a little and uses your arousal and his precum to wet his dick. Your mouth waters and you clench around nothing at how beautiful he looks slowly pumping himself with furrowed brows, until now he’s done a good job of not showing how badly his body demands to be touched just as much as yours does.

He lines himself with your entrance and teases your clit with the tip of his cock, fighting the urge to slam himself into you to the hilt.

“Do you want me to grab a condom?” he says mere millimeters away from slipping into you.

“I’m on the pill.” you reassure and gasp at how close he is to giving you everything you wanted since he crashed his lips into yours at the easel. Or possibly before that.

That’s all he needed to hear before he pushed his cock past your entrance and into your wet pussy, the stretch he’s giving you making you thank him silently for insisting on warming you up first.

“Fuck.” You both moan at how well you squeeze around him. He goes slow, inching in to give you time to adjust. You wrap your legs around his waist to encourage him deeper. He continues his slow pace breathing hot and thick against your neck.

He sits up to watch how he disappears inside you. “Look how well you take my cock, sweetheart.” He says picking up some speed in his thrusts. You moan at how well he hits every spot in you that’s been left untouched tonight, his dirty words only further building the pressure in your pelvis.

His thrusts become harder and you reach up you brace yourself on his biceps, his muscles flexing while he supports his weight above you. He angles his hips up slightly hitting your sweet spot perfectly, and you nearly yelp at the sensation, digging your nails into his arms making him hiss.

“Right there? Is that how your little pussy likes it?” He feigns a subtle innocence in his voice. Like he can’t see with his own eyes how well he’s fucking you.

“Yes, fuck! Please don’t stop.” you beg, mostly to get him to do just that, but also because of the sweaty fog his delicious cock has worked into your mind isn’t exactly allowing you to form the most intelligent of sentences.

He sits back on his knees and pushes one of your legs to your chest, his dick hitting deeper than you thought possible making your eyes roll back and your jaw slack. Your moans become uncontrollable and the words you’re attempting to say just come out in broken sounds.

“Such a good slut for me, look at you falling apart on my cock.” his voice almost a growl. “You gonna cum soon, sweetheart?” He says with a voice like silk to mask how close he is himself.

You can’t do more than nod fractically at his words in fear your voice will betray you. He rubs your clit with his thumb to earn your second climax from you.

And you do, your walls tighten around his cock but his pace doesn’t falter. Your legs shake and your eyes roll back. You cover your mouth to muffle a scream. Your orgasm ripping through you so hard you feel like you might burst.

Jungkook hisses at how hard you’re squeezing him and fucks you through your high. He reaches to his headboard to fuck into you harder, being selfish for the first time tonight, using you to chase his own high.

“Where do you want it?” He says in a stifled whine.

“Cum inside Jungkook. I want you to fill me up.” You say pressing your nails into his chest. The overstimulation you feel in your core is worth every thrust when he finally lets go and fills you with his cum. His cock twitching as he slowly rides out his climax.

He collapses on top of you, breathing heavily into your neck. Then rolls over to the other side of the bed, to allow both of you some cool air on your skin.

“I hope I didn’t go too hard at the end there, are you okay?” He looks over at you with worried eyes.

“No. No it’s okay, I liked it.” you smile, your lungs and heart rate working hard to steady themselves.

After he’s caught his breath a little he reaches into his bedside table to get a small rag to wipe up some of his cum leaking out of you, and you suddenly feel very vulnerable at his thoughtful gesture.

The post sex clarity hitting your mind, not quite in the way you hoped. As you lay there the height of what you two just did sending your mind go into overdrive.

Oh fuck. You run through the events of the night starting to panic a little. He’s my friend, how did this even happen? I wasn’t gonna do this. I wasn’t gonna let this get more complicated than my attraction to him already was. Shit, I’m an idiot. I mean he did kiss me, but… I can’t let this happen again. I don’t want this to end badly and have to move just because I think with my idiot vagina. It makes things too complicated. Okay, I have to end whatever that was now before things get even more complicated. He won’t mind right? He’s a college dude, he’s probably fine with just hittin’ it and quittin’ it. Yeah, everything is good. Friends can fuck once and then be good, it happens all the time.

You sit up from his bed and run your hands through your hair a couple times in an attempt to tame it and start to pick up your clothes.

“Are you okay?” He says, watching you as you attempt to find your underwear.

“Yeah, I’m good, just have an early class in the morning and I should probably get going.” you force a smile.

“Oh, uh okay.” He says not quite convinced. Though you weren’t lying about that, you really did have a class in about seven hours.

“Hey um,” you hesitate, sliding your pants on just choosing to abandon your underwear. “This was just a one time thing, right?” you ask him, hating the way you said that.

He senses your tone and feels a little twinge in his chest, but he ignores it, putting on a smile instead. “Yeah, definitely. Why do you ask?”

“Okay, good.” Another twinge. “I just don’t want things to be too complicated, with us being neighbors and all…” You trail off, trying not to cringe at yourself.

“Yeah, that makes sense.” He pauses, realizing for the first time that this could have negative consequences. “No worries, it’s forgotten. Just friends.” He reassures pulling his pants on.

“Just friends.” You smile and extend your hand to him. You shake on it.

You pull your shirt over your head.

“See you later, neighbor.” You say attempting to bring back the way things were just an hour ago. And you slip out his door.

He doesn’t walk you home like he normally does, and honestly you’re thankful. You just want to be back in your apartment where you can pretend that didn’t just happen. Even if that was one of the best fucks you've ever had, you're certainly not going to think about it. What is there to think about? Nothing happened.

You slip out his door, and into yours, met with Jimin munching in your kitchen, presumably after a party and your feet halt in their tracks.

“Damn babe, you look positively wrecked.” He says with a knowing smirk.

“Jimin, I am so not in the mood for whatever you’re about to say.” you say exasperated.

“Oh, so I should save the ‘I told you so’? Would you rather get it in the morning?” He asks innocently, though he’s anything but.

“Preferably never.” You quip and slip into your bedroom.

Yeah, never is good, we’re just gonna pretend none of that happened.

-----------------------------

Taglist: @taezeus @spoopysoph @gucci-prince-tae @jiminiesthiccthighs @veryuniquenamegoeshere @hermiones-enchantment @irissilujm @flo-music @scalbra @sugarrimajins @embrace-themagic @megsmiiiii @nerdycookiemonster-1222 @livorna

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demonicpiano · 3 years

Text

Three-Fourths the Way There

RusEng + Magic Trio School AU!

You can read it on my AO3!

Rating: General/K+

(Safe enough to read at work!)

Words: >6K

Status: Complete, One-shot

Summary: There’s a new rule that school clubs need to have four members to a club, minimum. The Magic Club only has three. Cue panic.

"Don't look now, but that Russian kid is staring again."

Arthur turned his head. In the seat beside him, Vlad smacked a hand to his face, "I said don't look! Oh, great! He's probably going to curse you now and eat your parents!"

"Wow, he'll curse me and eat my parents?" Arthur made sure that his friend saw him roll his eyes. "Remind me to give my mum a call after class."

The last third of their trio glanced over his shoulder from a desk ahead as Vlad whisper-yelled, "What do you think happened to his ma and pa?"

"That's dark." Lukas launched a wad of paper, which bounced off the side of Vladimir's head. "You should be studying."

"Look around." The chatter of teenagers said it all, "Nobody's working. I bet the teacher is playing solitaire."

"Lukas is right. Sitting here and gossiping like a bunch of old ladies won't help us study." Arthur opened his textbook with a promise to his companions, "We have plenty of time for that during ritual."

"Honey or lemon this time?" Lukas asked.

"Lemon. Demons don't like the texture of sweet things."

Across the classroom, a lone Ivan smiled.

~.~

Not only was he the spokesperson of the Magic Club and go-to exorcist when the girls believed a spirit was haunting the gym locker room (the trick was to get the ghosts to leave willingly), Hetalia Academy's best and most prestigious was exemplified in the perfect form of Arthur Kirkland, head of the student body in Council. He was the first to arrive and last one to leave, as always, with notes on the ready to whip the other members into focus. Of course, he did not forget to hide the chalk so Yao and Alfred would not host doodle-contests that would end in a decisive victory.

Absolutely perfect...at least, he would say so.

Not long after Arthur settled, the door to the otherwise empty classroom opened, and he automatically straightened. Maybe today's Student Council wouldn't begin forty minutes late. A hulking figure slowed before the cluster of desks pushed together in a cheap meeting strategy, "Good afternoon, President."

Arthur raised his eyebrows, "I told you that you do not have to call me that." Ivan simply smiled, like he always seemed to do. "Take a seat. Hopefully the others will come soon."

"Thank you." Ivan settled, and began fiddling with something inside his bookbag. It stayed quiet. Neither of them were ones to make an empty room particularly interesting, but silence did not always need to be filled especially after a chatter-filled day of teachers and students. At least Ivan knew that...as much as Arthur could find himself to be at ease with him. Not only did the big guy stare from across the classroom during first period, he often giggled to himself as if he had many devious secrets. The fairies would shudder upon his arrival and promptly flee. Strange, but Arthur would take whatever damn peace and quiet he could get over-

The door swung open with a squawk of hinges and words, "...it was a shitstorm-supernova, man. I told him to lay off the milk, but-OH-HEY-ARTIE-HOW-ARE-YOU-DOING?!"

Arthur tried not to flinch too much as a gobble-gooked, French-accented chuckle poured salt in the wound of his bleeding eardrums. "The party is here!"

"That's me by the way!" Alfred announced with the World's Widest Grin. Sometimes it reached impossible places. He bounced past Ivan, gave him a smack on the head, and noisily dropped himself and his bookbag beside Arthur. Francis took Arthur's other side, reeking of a bath of perfume. No escape; it was either French or American. Damn it all, Arthur should have taken the other seat and risk sitting beside Ivan or Yao. Speaking of whom, the last (but certainly not least) shuffled in and plopped himself beside Ivan with a sigh.

"We're all here," Arthur said right away in order to curb stomp any potential conversations or distractions. "We'll get started right away. Phone's down and off, and as always, save your complaints until I'm finished." He grabbed a few sheets from his collection, snapped his folder shut, and began to distribute. "As you know, our annual dance is still some months away, but it is our duty as Student Council to get these flyers set up and sent out as soon as possible. I made these example sheets—Ivan, get off your phone, please—so we can hopefully come up with a design."

"Not on my phone."

"Nobody stares at their lap and smiles like that."

"I do."

"Nobody asked you, Francis."

"He's knitting," Yao said. Ivan snapped his hands over his lap and looked up as if he were caught halfway into the biscuit jar.

Before Arthur could say anything, before he could think to say anything, Alfred leaped from his seat with a shrill, "Are you really knitting! Isn't that something old ladies do?!"

"I..."

Arthur yanked the back of Alfred's jacket to get his behind in his seat again, "Sit down, would you? And knitting is not just for old ladies. It is a very calming and intricate hobby that can be used for a variety of reasons and-" Ivan was staring again. Smiling. Arthur gulped, ending much more weakly, "but you should leave it for a different time."

"Okie-dokie."

"Old lady!" Alfred sang.

"Shut it," Arthur warned. "Back on track here."

Work unwillingly completed was better than no work completed. As long as those ungrateful little—oops, the lovely student body—appreciated Arthur's efforts, then all would be just peachy. Besides, it wasn't the Student Council he looked forward to most, but the Magic Club was not until after school tomorrow. Once a week was always so close, yet so far. They had the design for the flyers completely planned and even began discussing a bake-sale in spring by the time Alfred leaped from his chair, "It's four o'clock! Time to go!"

"What is burning his ass?" Yao wondered. Arthur simply shook his head as everyone around him snatched their belongings and peeled out of the room as quickly as humanly possible. He gathered the scattered plans to tuck them safely into their folder with much more care than anybody else would give-

A paper poked his arm. Oh, Ivan was still there, holding one Arthur must have overlooked. "Oh, thanks-"

"Can I walk with you to the bus?"

"Excuse me, what?"

Ivan ducked his head.

"I suppose."

"Thank you."

Arthur gave a side-eye before taking himself and his bag out of the classroom. He walked fast and with purpose, though Ivan easily kept pace with long legs. Neither said anything, which was a bit odd. Then again, he was a bit of an odd fellow. Not many friends. Not really any friends. Large. Hulking. Thick arms. Uh, keeps to himself. Typical odd kid, yeah.

"How is your magic club?"

"Magic Club? It's...all right." A warning glance. Ivan kept his eyes forward. "Why?"

"All right? Did you find somebody yet?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Did you not hear? There was an email." Ivan stopped in the middle of the hall and pointed to a ginormous bulletin board a little ways away. "Every Club needs to have at least four members now or else it will be disbanded!"

"What?!" Arthur sent a sharp look over his shoulder, hoping for Ivan's sake that was just a cruel joke. He stormed across the linoleum floors, pouring over every letter and announcement (and a stray note saying that so-and-so smelled like mushrooms?) until he caught the bright yellow sheet that read, 'AFTER-SCHOOL CLUB UPDATE.' So on and so forth, '...effective the first day of the new semester, January 4. If you have any questions, please speak to a guidance counselor or send an email at...' "No..." Arthur cursed the paper. The paper did not respond. A heart could not handle to be abandoned like this so quickly and suddenly. Him. Lukas. Vlad. The chopping block called for their necks.

Ivan let out a thoughtful noise beside Arthur, scaring the nerves out of him again. Arthur almost told him to stop sneaking on him like that, but found himself unwilling to open his mouth. The Magic Club was unlike the others; it did not thrive off crowds and attention. It can, and has been, thriving with secrecy and rumors whispered through the halls. Three people was enough. It has been enough. It always should have been enough-

"So you have not found fourth member yet?"

"No. Not yet." Arthur resisted the urge to look to Ivan's face. What if it was a tease, a laugh hidden behind sweet words? What if it was full of hope? An unspoken yet obvious question? He couldn't bear it. Not now. Not so soon. "I have to go."

"Ah, did I say something bad?"

"No, Ivan, not you. I need to get home." Quickly, over his shoulder, Arthur called, "Goodbye."

"Okay, uh, bye-bye!"

Arthur stormed out of the school. Each step would be a threat to leave the earth to shatter if he didn't want to be so quick. He threw himself onto his bus and fell into a seat with a huff. Everything had fractured and fallen apart so quickly. Now, he had the entire ride home to stew in the dark thoughts swirling through his mind.

~.~

Nobody welcomed Arthur home, and he did not care nor have the time to care. It was straight to his bedroom, door locked, and books unceremoniously deposited on his desk. He immediately opened his laptop, then his chat window between him, Lukas, and Vlad to start a call. The application droned. His reflection scowled at himself. It didn't make the drones drone faster.

"Arthur? What's up?"

"Lukas, I-" Something made a string of obnoxious noise from the other end.

"Sorry-" Yap, yap, yap-

"Hana! Shush!"

"I'll just go upstairs."

"No, no," Arthur said, "if I called at a bad time...I should wait until Vlad gets on anyway-"

Bloop.

"Talking about me?"

Arthur slapped his hands to his desk, "The Magic Club needs to find another member or we're getting disbanded."

"Wait, what?!"

"There was some letter from the principal. Hold on, I didn't check my email yet today." Arthur sought to do that. "Apparently, it has something to do with funding or whatever excuse they're using, but all clubs have to have at least four or more members starting the new semester."

Vlad squawked in offense.

"Check your email! It says it all there."

Lukas' voice was a quiet storm, tight with concern, "The new semester? That's less than two months away."

"Still, that will give us a decent amount of time. We can ask around to see who can join."

"Hey, Lukas," Vlad said, "what about your lil' bro?"

"He's in grade 8. Doesn't even go to the school yet."

"Oh. Sucks."

"Hm."

Arthur worried the inside of his cheek. As noisy as it was, life was mundane, scheduled and predictable. Sometimes. Nothing extraordinary besides the occasional demon got loose or a ghoul haunted the west wing's urinals...until this dropped a wrench onto his foot. Adapt or die. What the most awful of ultimatums.

"Yo, Art?"

"Yes?"

"You thinking of anybody?"

"I'm thinking," he promised. Perhaps too much. "I...I need to go. I just wanted to tell the both of you, and I have homework..."

"It's all right," Lukas said. "I have dinner soon. Vlad and I will talk a little bit more until then."

"Yeah, Arthur. Take care."

"Right then. Thanks. I'll see the both of you tomorrow." Arthur dropped out of the call, staring at his friends' profile pictures still indicating they were live and chatting for a moment too long to be healthy before closing the lid of his laptop. Him. Lukas. Vlad.

Emil was too young. Arthur's brothers had graduated, save one, but Peter was still in primary, and besides, he wouldn't invite the little twerp anyway. Francis? He may have had the taste for finer things in life, but that was for anything he could get a sense on, and unfortunately, that excluded the supernatural. He was already in several other clubs anyway. Alfred? Hmm, he pissed himself over a ghost story in the seventh grade. Perhaps not. Maybe Yao? He only had Cooking, as far as Arthur knew, and they had a few fine talks about Chinese superstitions. Maybe. Then there was...Ivan. A complete mystery, really. Did he ask about the fourth spot in the Magic Club because of interest, or to simply be nosy? Arthur walked off before Ivan could make any of this known. Not many dared to approach the 'school gremlin' (yes, he was well aware of the whispers), let alone ask to walk with him out of the school without asking for something in return.

Arthur tipped his head back and pinched his eyes. He had too much pouring itself onto his lap out of the blue like this. After another, more final sigh, he leaned to pull his homework from his bag. Essays and questions were an excuse to put his mind somewhere else.

~.~

"Sadiq."

"He's already in the Cooking Club."

"So is Yao, and you asked him."

Arthur tossed up his hands from the lunch table. As soon as they walked into the building, the Trio set a mission to scour and take in any potential recruits. It was an ultimate failure. Most of the finest potential candidates were already claimed, already asked and not interested, or too superstitious to dabble in the Dark Arts. Cowards. Rinse, lower standards, repeat. The rest of the student body laughed, gave them weird looks and/or asked, "Magic Club? What's that?"

Sigh.

To think all of this was to get new bodies inside the classroom, to see if they were even capable of joining said club!

"This is highly ineffective," Arthur announced. "Going student to student is slow at best."

Vlad nodded solemnly, "I accidentally asked Timo twice."

Lukas gave him a funny glance. "You asked Timo? You know he lives two doors down from me, right?"

"Maybe. No. I don't know! All of these kids are blond and look the same."

Arthur contemplated allowing himself to have a sob to two. Or ten. Lukas said, "I'll go to the main office after lunch. Maybe I can ask them to make an announcement for anyone to meet us in our spot."

"You would do that? For us?"

"For the Club, too."

"You don't have to do it alone. Arthur and I can come with!"

"It's okay. I have a study period next. I can afford it. Don't miss class."

Vlad and Arthur grabbed Lukas' hands, reeling and praising, "You're our last hope!"

~.~

After a few minutes of Calculus, an announcement dinged overhead, "If anyone is interested in joining the Magic Club, please meet in Room 23A after school. Again, if anyone is interested in joining the Magic Club..."

Arthur kept his eyes toward his worksheet. Chairs squeaked as bodies turned and whispered. Just a few more hours until then. He will know—and finally accept—at that point that they were doomed, and lay his wand to rest.

~.~

"We can summon a demon."

"Vlad, that's your answer for everything."

"Oh, come on! We can have it pretend it's a part of the student body. We're magic. We can make up some paperwork."

"I suppose you're fine with selling your soul in exchange for services, then?"

They sat, seats pulled close together and slouching under the heavy atmosphere. Nobody came. It was just the three of them. As it always was, and apparently, as it always will be.

"I'm sorry," Lukas spoke up, "I should have told the lady to have more pizzazz for the announcement."

"Don't go blaming yourself for things that aren't your fault, Lukas. You did well, and we thank you for it."

"Yeah," Vlad said, "you did great." Then, "Maybe we should've ordered pizza."

Arthur pointed out, "We would only get people in here for the free pizza. Besides, who would pay for it?" He stuck his elbows on his knees and cupped his face with his palms. "Maybe it's better this way. Nobody is pretending to listen to us when there is nobody to listen."

"We should have ordered pizza anyway. I'm hungry."

Someone's stomach gurgled. Arthur and Lukas pricked their eyebrows at one another. Lukas straightened from his slump, "It could help with the mood. Unless you want to sit here and sulk instead?"

"Just for a while longer," Arthur promised. "Then we can get something to eat."

Just for a while longer, they waited. "We can still hang out," Vlad offered. "We can do séances at my house."

"True, but we won't have the funding from the school."

Lukas gave a limp shrug, almost dropping into a puddle on the floor if he slumped further into his chair. "Could always meet for movie-night at my place."

"Ooh," Vlad had just a smidge enthusiasm more than Arthur could muster, "Movie-night."

Someone knocked on the door. Three heads snapped up, eyes wide and glancing to one another as if to ask, "Who could it be?" A creak, and a pale head of hair breached their precious space. Arthur's heart leaped for some reason, and he wondered if it was hope or dread.

"That's..." Vlad started, and he didn't leap for joy.

Ivan smiled like he always did, closed-mouth and tight. He quietly shut the door and asked, "Magic Club?"

Lukas and Vlad simultaneously straightened in their seats with their faces reminiscent of stone. Arthur tried to be the same, though deep down inside, he believed it would come to this. Braginsky was their last stand against eternal end. If that was the case, perhaps fate brought him here. The fairies, as they already have cried and fled, may have not agreed, but how bad could a man that kept to himself, knew how to knit, and blushed so easily be? Not that knitting was an excellent judge of character...

"Yes, that's right." Arthur rose from his seat, finding himself to smile anyway as their newcomer wrung his hands together in a nervous fit. Although he knew the answer, he had to ask out of propriety, "What brings you here?"

"I heard the announcement." Ivan tipped his head. "Unless you already filled your forth spot? I do not see anybody else."

"Err, no, we...we haven't found anybody else. Yet."

"Hey!" Vlad hissed, "Don't try to tell me...the Braginsky kid?"

Lukas sang under his breath, "He's gonna eat your parents..."

"You haven't?" Ivan was much too happy about that. "That is good!"

"Not really," Arthur said.

"I mean, it is good because...I would like to ask...ah..."

Vlad kept chanting most quietly, "He's gonna eat your parents. He's gonna eat your parents-"

"Go on," Arthur urged. This or doom, he reminded himself. Well, unless Braginsky planned on bringing doom. He better not.

"I would like my sister to join your club."

Vlad stopped chanting. Lukas stared. Arthur blurted, "Your sister? Why isn't she here, then?"

"She is, uh, not good with people."

"So you want to pawn her on us instead?!"

"Vlad," Arthur warned. Vlad slumped against his chair, more haunted if anything.

"No, no!" Ivan shook his hands like he pleaded for his life, which was unnecessary so far, "It is so she can make friends! It would be good for her."

Lukas asked, "Would it be good for us, too?"

"You're considering it?" Arthur was a tad surprised. Lukas had an irritated air about him. Though it did not appear to be any different from his neutral expression, he knew. Oh, Arthur knew.

Vlad tossed his hands up, then down to his lap with a sigh. "I mean...I guess. It's not like anybody else is waltzing in here." Louder, to Ivan, "So what does your sister do?"

"Hm?"

"This is a Magic Club," Arthur said. "If you...your sister is interested in joining us, she must be and prove herself to be supernaturally inclined."

"Oh, yes! She can talk to ghosts!"

"She can?"

"Well, she mumbles to the air a lot..."

Vlad echoed, "She mumbles to the air."

Lukas made a small, "Hm." The seriously? was understood.

Arthur tried to grin and bear the threat of curses against his back, "We have another meeting next week. Same exact day, same exact time. If you think your sister has what it takes to be in our Club, by then all means-"

Unbridled joy bloomed across Ivan's face, turning his cheeks completely pink and squishable. Not that Arthur wanted to squish them. It was just that they looked squishable.

"Hold...hold on!" Vlad said, "What grade is this girl in?"

"Nine."

"A NINTH GRADER?! Arthur-"

"It's just to see!" Arthur insisted, all the while avoiding Ivan's steady eye. "Just this once. It's the nice thing to do after all."

Lukas and Vlad shared another glance. Lukas said, "I thought you didn't care about being nice."

"Excuse me?! Who said!"

They simultaneously looked away.

"So that is a yes?" Ivan asked. Gasped. Clapped excitedly without getting an answer, "I hope you give her a chance! It would be the nice thing to do after all!"

Arthur sputtered, "You-!"

"Goodbye!"

"Oi!"

The door shut.

Arthur cursed under his breath. The source of his ire was gone; why did he feel so worked up? This or doom.

"His sister, huh?" Lukas wondered aloud.

Vlad stuck an elbow into Arthur's side, catching a soft spot, "Told you that guy was weird. He stared at you the whole time like you were something to eat."

That was Ivan's something-to-eat face? What a gentle devourer he must be, then. Arthur cleared his throat and batted Vlad away, "Don't worry about it. The whole family is weird."

Lukas said, "Not the oldest."

Vlad, "That you know of."

"Hm."

Perhaps there was still hope for the Magic Club.

~.~

Surprisingly, one week passed quickly. The weekend helped, since those always swallow as much time as possible when one was not looking. Keeping oneself busy helped, too.

Early in the week, the student council meeting was mildly successful. It was a bit too chatter-filled for Arthur's liking, but he supposed with all the hard work they accomplished the last meeting, he didn't have to take the chalk sticks from Alfred and Yao when they snuffed their hiding spot from the top drawer in the teacher's desk. At least not right away.

Why Alfred snooped in there, nobody knows.

"Everyone get seated, put your phones and knitting supplies away. We may be ahead, but that doesn't mean we can completely slack off."

Whatever was in the water, Arthur urged it to make a home there because everyone was attentive, or at least calm enough not to make fools of themselves. At four on the dot, Alfred sprung from his seat, rallying the others and Arthur let him go with no dissent...even if it was right in the middle of his sentence.

Just one more day to go. In twenty four hours-

"Arthur."

That time Arthur jumped. He kept his eyes on the papers that Yao made no move to help gather, "Yes, Ivan?"

"Can we walk to the after-school bus together, Arthur? Please?"

Yao looked up in surprise, but thankfully didn't say anything as he took his bag, one of the papers, and hurried out of the room. Arthur opened his mouth, floundering as his face began to feel warm, but words were difficult at the wrongest of times.

An arm drooped over his shoulders as the stench of overly-floral perfume breached his nostrils. Francis fake-wailed, "Oh, Arthur, but I thought we always walk to the after-school bus together!"

"Ugh, Francis, get off of me!" was a lot easier to say. Arthur made a show to brush invisible germs off of his blazer, which made Ivan giggle. "And no, we don't."

Francis rolled his eyes, "I see now! Ivan is your favorite! You rather walk with him than me! Hmph!" A side-glare turned with a smile as he spun away. Arthur swore there was a wink in there. Bastard. "Good day to the both of you. Good day!"

"Fantastic," Arthur made sure to say as dryly as humanly possible. "Let's get out of here, shall we?"

So they did. They left the classroom, turned off the lights, and closed the door. Walked down the halls. Walked out of the building. Really, nothing interesting. To think Ivan asked so eagerly. Arthur felt his mouth pull down as the autumn air sent a slight chill across his face.

"You're my favorite, too."

The bottom of Arthur's sole scratched the sidewalk as he abruptly stopped. After hours meant nobody was around. The rest of the Student Council already boarded the bus. It wasn't a mistake on the ears.

Still, Arthur asked, "Excuse me?"

Ivan looked downright terrified. "Ah, um, excused?"

"I appreciate the sentiment, but kissing arse is not going to get your sister into the Magic Club any faster."

"No, I...! I wasn't..." A flinch, "I'm sorry. Goodbye!"

"Wha...oi!" Arthur called after Ivan's clumsily retreating backside. "The bus is this way! What in the world?"

He stepped onto the bus, ignored a, "Artie! Sit with meeeeee!" and sat in his own seat as far from Francis and Yao, who bickered about...rice cooking methods?

"Huh. Guess he doesn't want to be bothered." Alfred unashamedly announced, "Whatever! I just put that stuff in the microwave! Ha-ha-ha!"

Yao blanched. "Ai-yah! That's your answer for everything!"

"Ha-ha! I wish!"

Arthur turned his eye just in time to see Francis put the back of his hand against his forehead and slump in his seat. Ivan would be in the far back, where he sat now, smiling and knitting as the others bickered. Such a strange guy.

~.~

Arthur's bewilderment slowly steamed to irritation throughout the rest of the night, ending to a boil as he scowled at the fairy-lights above his bed. He had been thoroughly warned of the quiet kids, mostly from snickers and back-sided gossip that he would roll his eyes, but many legends had a grain of truth within them. Ivan's truth was that he did not even bother to pretend he wasn't shying up to Arthur to get his sister into the Magic Club! That he wasn't pretending to not pawn her off so he wouldn't have to deal with her for at least an hour a week! What an awful, awful older brother! He gave his duvet a tough yank at the thought of other awful older brothers, and thus sparred a downward spiral of grumbling, hard-fought battles in his head, and a bad night's sleep.

When he woke, his first thought was to rue the entire day before it started, most importantly, the Magic Club's meeting after school. His phone buzzed no more than 17 minutes after he pulled himself out of bed, and he saw a message from Vlad; "Bring a spoon you don't care about."

Arthur let out a sigh at the breakfast table. It was too early to make his stomach start to work, but he wouldn't start the day without black tea. A few giggles circled his head as he felt the little hands of fairies gently tug at the unmanageable clumps of bedhead. Whatever would happen that day, his friends would still be there. If not for another meeting, then movie-night and some pizza.

~.~

Before first period, Arthur stopped at the library to pick up a pass to spend his study hall there with books and peace and quiet instead of a classroom full of yappy teenagers. Why call it a 'study hall' when studying isn't a building-wide requirement to some teachers, he didn't know.

The line was rather long, most likely full of students who procrastinate on homework and scrambled for a time to do it before their classes. Arthur crossed his arms and quietly tapped his foot, not out of patience, just for something to do. The thought of Ivan knitting, long but deft fingers effortlessly and neatly looping the thread popped in his mind, and he tossed his hands down to his sides with a huffy sigh. Some heads turned to stare, but they meant nothing.

"...'scuse me. Arthur."

Arthur didn't jump this time. He turned his head to nobody else but Ivan's direction, who of course was right there, right at that time, in the same line. His own visage must have spilled the thoughts bubbling over the edge of his mind and Ivan quickly ducked his head toward the carpet.

"Good morning," he still tried. "How are you feeling?"

"As fine as a Tuesday morning allows."

"Ah."

"The line is moving."

"Are you getting pass?"

"What else would I be in for?"

Ivan smiled, crinkling his eyes, "Books, silly!"

Right. Arthur walked into that one. "Yes, I'm getting a pass."

"What period?"

"Fourth."

"Oh." They didn't share a study period. "That is okay. We can walk to first period together, yes?"

"Ivan." Arthur took a long inhale through his nose. Out. "I would highly appreciate it if you would stop trying to...do whatever it is you are doing to try to win our favor on your sister's behalf. Whether or not she gets in is up to her abilities-"

"My sister?" Ivan echoed. He let out a little laugh, "Oh, no, no, I do not worry for Natalya."

"What. Then why did you come to the Club room last week for her?"

Ivan didn't answer until he signed his name on the pass-sheet and stepped from the counter with a little gesture, "I wanted to know how you three would react. What your faces look like when you first think of my dear sister." He tipped his head, breaking into a cheeky grin again, "Yes, that exact face you have right now."

"Young man," the librarian prompted when Arthur stood in front of the counter without signing his name. He took care of that, received his pass, and stepped out of line to wander away from the other students...all with Ivan trailing beside him.

"A-and?" Arthur cleared his throat, forcing himself to look into Ivan's face. "Did you get what you want? We're giving her a chance."

Ivan leaned forward in the slightest, but it was a mountain shifting onto Arthur. "No. Not yet."

"Well," Arthur grunted out, "until then." He turned on his heel.

"Are we going to walk together? We share class."

"I have to go to my locker!" Arthur lied, and hurried as quickly as possible out of the library, but the drowsy hoard of teenagers was the worst of impediments. Ivan's eyes iced the back of his neck.

~.~

Ivan didn't stare during first period. Lukas and Vlad didn't notice, otherwise they would have started to snicker and talk about how their parents would inevitably be eaten. Arthur noticed, only because it was weird for him to not stare as it would be for somebody else to do so. No, Ivan occupied himself by staring down his lap—knitting. Anyone else, and the teacher would have given them the what-for already. Arthur found himself momentarily wondering what he was making so intensely, but immediately told that part of his mind to keep quiet and pay attention to the teacher.

Even during lunch, the Magic Trio ate in stony silence. Perhaps the thin wire separating all of them from utter doom had left them just as concerned as Arthur. Concerned, because he was not nervous or anything for any reason or from anyone.

The only conversation they had all day besides a dreary good morning was Vlad stopping Arthur in the hall to seventh period, "Hey, do you have your spoon?"

Arthur quickly nodded, unable to say more with the crowd of students pushing their way to their next class.

His stomach tied itself into a tough ball. Last period. Arthur did something he loathed to make a habit; clock watch. Instead of excitement at the end of the day approaching as slow as possible, it was like watching the blade dangle over his neck. When the bell finally—finally—droned, he already had all his books packed up and was one of the first out the door. He even got ahead of the brainless dismissal hoard and almost bumped into Lukas on the way to their room. They gave one another a nod before Arthur let his friend inside first.

Vlad followed soon after, closing the door with his backside and let himself have a short but loud sigh. They all shared it. They wordlessly fetched their cloaks, tomes, and battery-operated candles because the school deemed normal candles a 'fire-hazard' and matches 'weapons of great-potential destruction,' so dollar-store tea-lights had to do for ambiance. Cloaks on. Vlad rushed to the front of the room. Lights off. They drew close in a circle and raised their hands. Quiet. Calm. They thought of the spirits watching over them, and released a collective exhale.

"It's lovely," Lukas said, and it truly was.

A knock on the door. Three robes brushed one another, bundling in their tight knit, and faced their soft intrusion. The door opened. "Go on," a voice murmured. Two newcomers shuffled inside, one much smaller than the other. The family resemblance was uncanny, starting with the platinum locks on top of their heads. Ivan glimpsed over the trio and urged his little sister forward. She stared with impassive eyes.

"Welcome," Arthur started. "Welcome to the Magic Club."

The girl kept staring.

"May we have your name?"

"No, but you will call me Natalya."

Based on the light noises of delighted shock along his sides, Arthur thought the same thing; Quick girl!

"Very well. This is Vlad and Lukas," gesturing accordingly, "and I am Arthur." With a subtle shot of eyes to Ivan, "Thank you for being here, again. Would you join us?"

"Depends. What do you do?"

"We commune with the fair folk."

"I can do that in my backyard."

"Uh. We also take commissions to curse people."

Natalya started to look thoughtful.

Vlad said, "It goes both ways. We don't just take in anybody. You have to prove yourself worthy to carry the secrets of the Magic Club."

"Okay."

Eyes to Arthur. He reached into his pocket. Thus comes the truest test, "You have to bend this spoon."

~.~

"She didn't break a sweat!"

"Ninth-grade girls are terrifying."

"I'll see you two tomorrow."

Arthur left the Club room with more spring in his step than he entered. Tomorrow morning, he would drop off Natalya's inauguration papers to the Main Office. By next week, she will have her first official Magic Club Meeting. Nobody has joined since they all did when they were ninth graders! They had to plan and make it special. Goodness, Arthur hadn't felt this hopeful about the future since the third installment to his favorite book series was announced and that was a little over two months ago!

"Oh, Arthur!" A voice sang down the hall.

Arthur abruptly stopped and felt stupid about it. A happy hum and footsteps came closer, but he didn't turn. He made Ivan do the work of stepping around, and gave the giant a tilt of the head, "Is there something I can help you with?"

"We go home together on bus Mondays, but we can do the same today, yes?"

"I would say so, since we're all going that way."

Arthur must have not responded as enthusiastically as Ivan would hoped, so he goaded while they walked, "This is very good news. My sister has friends now, and your Magic Club will not go away."

Oh, they and Natalya were friends now? Arthur wouldn't complain; anybody that befriended the spirits was fine in his spell books. He glanced up Ivan from the corner of his eye. "Yes. So everything is said and done now. We can go back to living our lives as we were."

The side of Ivan's mouth curled up, "With a little more this time."

Arthur let out a huff, wondering how he could say, 'You can stop pretending to be friendly with me now that you have what you want,' without sounding like an utter toad.

A hand gently set on his shoulder, "Arthur, wait."

Ivan stopped and pulled something out of his blazer's pocket. "It is getting cold." He held a small bundle of dark green fabric. Knitting. "You should keep yourself warm."

"I can't take those."

"Do you not like them?"

"I do," Arthur said quickly, and he really did. "The stitching is impeccable and the colors blend in very well together. You worked on these for that entire time; I couldn't just take them from you."

Ivan pulled closer, tipping his head down and spoke lowly to Arthur's ear, "I made these for you, Arthur. I am giving them to you. They will not yours to take, but mine to give." Arthur shifted enough to catch Ivan's eye, giving a hard stare as much as he took one. "My sister is in Magic Club now, so you cannot say I am doing this to...'kiss ass,' okay?"

"So you are doing this because you want to do it? Just because? Because you are so..." Arthur made sure to stand straight as possible, meeting him half-way, "Nice and caring and charitable and kind? Do you know how strange that is? How strange do you make yourself out to be?"

"That is funny, Arthur. You call me strange but here you are. A ferocious, wild little creature."

"You're dastardly. I'm onto you."

"You are 'onto' me? I am just trying to give you gloves."

"Is that really all you're doing, though?"

Ivan gave the bundle in his hand an urging bob, sweet and wanting yet mysterious as always. "You decide."

Arthur found himself smiling like a fool.

#THE SIN BIN #my fic #hetalia #hws RusEng #hws Magic Trio #hws #hetalia au #hetalia fic

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decaffs · 5 years

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university note-taking 101 ~

one of the hardest things parts of adapting to life in university is finding a note-taking method that is efficient and easy for you and your learning style.

it took me 18 months at university, experimenting with different note-taking styles, to settle on a few that work best for me. i thought i’d share all of the different methods i tried and the pros/cons of each & hopefully it’ll help you land on some note-taking styles quicker than i did! :-))

SO...i’ll start by saying obviously not all note-taking techniques are going to be included in this post because i’m just one person and these are just the styles i’ve had personal experience with and not everyone will like or dislike the same methods, it will take a little bit of trial and error to find your perfect style :-))

i’m going to split the different methods into 3 separate sections (and i’ll highlight my personal favourites):

⇢ handwritten

⇢ ipad/tablet

⇢ macbok/laptop

starting with what we all know and (kind of) love! we’ve spent the majority of our school education making handwritten notes for high school so it makes sense to start here.

1. basic handwritten notes

this type of note-taking is the most basic of all basic note-taking techniques and it’s probably what you’re used to. it involves any kind of paper - lined, squared, plained, whatever you fancy - and a single pen or pencil.

all this involves is writing down everything important you think is being said or discussed by your lecturer or your classmates! there’s nothing fancy involved, it’s all about getting down the most important points.

pros:

- you’ve already been doing this for years

- no time wasted doodling or highlighting

cons:

- can be time consuming if you’re not a quick writer

- if you’re writing on loose paper, it’s super easy to lose

- not easy to work out what notes relate to what slides / what comments were being made

- you may end up trying to write down everything on the lecture slides - waste of time when you can view them at home and you might miss important adlib!

2. annotating print-outs (*fave*)

this is a technique i adopted in second year of university! all you have to do is print out your lecture slides beforehand and bring them along with you. you can write at the side of slides or right on top of them.

pros:

- less likely to repeat what is said on slides so you can spend time listening for the nuggets of gold from your lecturer

- having slides prepared before a lecture means you can read them and familiarise yourself with some content

- easy to know what notes relate to what specific slides

- super quick to make important and accurate notes!

cons:

- it can be expensive to buy a printer/ink or to use your university’s printing facilities

- again, you can easily lose loose paper if you’re not careful

- your lecture slides may not always be available beforehand

3. cornell note-taking

cornell note-taking is something you’re probably already aware for those who don’t know - it’s a note-taking system devised in the 40s by a cornell professor.

cornell notes have to look a particular way in order for them to work (see here) and they’re geared towards helping you pass your exams.

you do your main note-taking in the right-hand box - these notes should be brief but include enough detail to act as a revision source. take these note in lectures or in classes and make sure to note down and highlight anything your lecturer emphasises.

use your left-hand column to write down potential exam questions you could be asked regarding the notes you’ve written on the right. these questions should act as test questions when you’re revising!

finally, in the bottom box you should summarise the key points to take away from that page of notes.

pros:

- excellent note-taking method for exam revision

- can be super efficient once you’re used to the style

cons:

- can take a while to set up pages if you’re doing it by hand

- can take some time adapting to this new way of note-taking

- not a flexible note-taking system, no person wiggle room

handwritten notes general pros and cons:

- hand writing notes is the most reliable way to remember important information

- you can use personal abbreviations and symbols to make your note-taking quicker

- you might lose papers here and there meaning your notes are incomplete or totally make no sense anymore

- it can be time-consuming trying to decide what is the vital information and getting it down before the topic of discussion changes

1. goodnotes for set reading annotations (app link here) (*fave*)

goodnotes is an app designed specifically for taking efficient and nice-to-look-at-notes! i personally use it for note-taking and annotating set readings at university.

i create a checklist on the first page of each module’s notebooks and write down each research paper or journal article i have to read so i don’t lose track. i then important PDFs straight into the notebook and annotate and highlight over the top of them.

pros:

- it’s super easy to have all of your reading notes and annotations in one place

- no risk of losing papers as everything is stored electronically

- the app uses icloud to sync your notes across all your devices make everything super accessible

- you can quickly share your notes with anybody through email/airdrop/imessage/pretty much anything!

cons:

- you do have to pay for the app (but it’s cheaper than printing out all of your readings)

- can be difficult to navigate at first

2. onenote for in-lecture notes

onenote is a microsoft app that lets you type and draw in one place! it works in a similar way to goodnotes.

i used onenote in first year to take in-lecture notes because it also allows for audio recording (DISCLAIMER: DO NOT RECORD YOUR LECTURES WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM YOUR UNIVERSITY AND LECTURERS) and it was super handy to have my notes and audio stored in the same file.

pros:

- super versatile and allows for many note-taking method in one app

- syncs across your devices (if you have onenote downloaded)

- allows you to collate different methods of note-taking in one place

cons:

- can be hard to organise your information! pages are blank and there’s no end to them, there’s also no grid for your items to snap to so it gets messy very quickly

- i’ve experienced personal issues with the syncing feature

ipad tablet/notes general pros and cons:

- tablets are generally really lightweight and easy to carry around - making them preferable over heavy notebooks or laptops

- having access to the internet makes note-taking super easy when you need to search terms or find photos

- you do have to make sure your tablet is fully charged if you’re taking it onto campus

- tablets can be super expensive

now for my holy grail - taking notes on a macbook or (insert laptop of choice here)!

1. brief in-lecture notes (*fave*)

i use microsoft word or pages to take most of my in-lecture notes and i fleet between using my ipad and macbook - i’m sticking it in this section because 9/10 i’m using my macbook.

with these kind of notes i set myself a specific structure and carry that out through the whole module!

first i lay my title across the top of my document - i usually just use the title of the lecture / general lecture topic. I then use my first indentations for the titles of each individual slide and bullet points for important comments made about each slide i also note particularly interesting things written on the slides themselves!

i stick to one font and one size to avoid wasting time on formatting!

i usually print out these notes so i can annotate them with any research i’ve found so it helps with my finalised notes.

pros:

- super quick if you’re a fast typer

- easy to correct notes or go back and add more detail at a later date

- easy to share and sync between devices

- simple format makes it easy to follow and a good revision resource

cons:

- notes can look a little boring and uninviting

- not easy to use abbreviations or symbols because of autocorrect!

2. extensive revision notes (*fave*)

i also use my macbook to create my finalised notes that i use to write my essays and revise for exams.

these notes take more time to make because of the formatting but they’re super nice to look at and make a wonderful resource at the end.

for these notes i start by picking a colour scheme (usually one within microsoft word) and i stick with this colour scheme for a whole module. i allocate one colour to research names and dates, one colour to titles, one colour to highlight key information with. i also use a variety of fonts! i typically use 4 fonts: one for the title of the lecture, one for subheadings, one for researcher names and dates and one for the main body of text - the main body font is usually a standard Helvetica or Arial!

i really take time to flesh out these notes so they reflect all of my learning - lectures, seminars, set reading, extra reading and knowledge i already had! i print off the notes and stick them in a ring binder and this becomes my bible for the semester!

pros:

- really inviting to look at so it makes revision a bit more enjoyable

- gives you time to show off your knowledge and create an extensive revision resource

- easy to share with friends or lecturers to get feedback

cons:

- can take a while to make these notes

- if you’re printing, this can cost quite a bit!

3. mind-map notes

finally! mind-map notes.

i use SimpleMind Lite to create mind-maps as the last part of my learning. each lecture gets its own mind-map and the nodes represent the key themes within the lecture!

it’s super important you don’t just use slide titles for your nodes as your mind-map will get crowded easily and you won’t want to use it as a revision resource.

keep your branching-off nodes short and sweet - think of them as knowledge cues! by the end of your learning you should be able to look at a node and remember the information regarding that point. these cues are also easier to remember and jog your memory in exam settings.

pros:

- good to see information presented in a new way

- you can use bright colours to make it more exciting

- great way to prep for exams

cons:

- hard to print also your canvas within the app is endless

- can be hard to share with others

macbook/laptop notes general pros and cons:

- can help you create a wide variety of notes - from short and sweet to fleshed out and fuuuuull of all the detail in the world

- allows you to correct, add to and print off your notes however many times you’d like

- you do have to make sure your laptop is always charged / you always have a charger!

- laptops can be heavy and impractical to carry to university

- if you’re not saving to a cloud you could lose some of your work (don’t be silly like me, use an external hard drive or dropbox!!!)

you made it!!! congrats :-))

hopefully i’ve given you a good idea of some of the note-taking methods you could use in university and you fancy trying a couple out!

if you have any questions or note-taking tips yourself, leave a message in the replies below.

decaffs x

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19mrs-barnes17 · 5 years

Text

The Move

Summary: You have moved in with your Aunt in Queens and are starting at a new school

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Part: 1/2

Warnings: anxiety?

Word count: 2,273

A/N: This is my submission for @beckzorz 1k writing challenge! Idk where this went lol, but, I had fun writing so enjoy! (Shoutout to @asphalt-cocktail for helping me out)

You were absolutely pissed. Why? Why do you even bother?

Your parents decided they were going to ship you off to Queens, instead of letting you get a job to help out so you could stay in Chicago. Now, you stood in front of an apartment building, suitcase growing heavy in hand. There was dread in your heart.

Making friends isn’t easy when you have social anxiety. With friends you could switch from chatter box to complete silence fairly quick. Sometimes within the same conversation. It was almost as if you had a social fuel tank and the more you socialized the more it depleted.

You’d have to explain yourself all over again, find a new lunch seat, and new places to belong. This made you anxious.

Nerves were spiking and your annoying 13 year old cousin, Alec, was not helping in the slightest. He was playing some game and shouting into his mic. You rolled your eyes as you unpacked, your room was right next door. Paper thin walls. Great.

“Dinner!” Aunt Clarissa hollered from the tiny kitchen. You were still unused to being cooked for, it was almost always you making your own meals. Chicken Alfredo to a cup of ramen. The result varied.

Dinner was quiet, fueled by awkwardness that you felt responsible for, and ended rather quickly. Alec was soon back on his game and Aunt Clarissa began to wash the dishes. You sat in silence, alone. This felt normal. But somehow with people in the room it became colder, more isolated.

Your first day began with a tour from Liz, who you assumed was that girl everyone just knew. And then, lunch. Liz offered for you to sit with her and while you were grateful, it felt odd. It wasn’t where you belonged. They talked of homecoming and boys, while you doodled in one of your many sketchbooks. You were no mega talent, but, you had always had this itch to create something. Anything.

“That’s really good (Y/N). You should take art here.” Liz was leaning in to study your sketch of a table across the room, all you had so far was one boy. “You should talk to him.”

“What?” It was the first word apart from ‘hi’ that you had spoken all morning, and she seemed surprised. A small smile danced upon her lips.

You turned back to your sketch, filling in details and outlining the boy next to him so Liz wouldn’t think you were obsessed. When you could feel her eyes leave your work, your pencil gravitated back to detailing the first boy’s face. He had kind eyes. What Liz may or may not realize, was that they were on her and not you.

Class felt slow, introductions were not needed since it was second semester, and you were behind on all subjects. So much for relaxing this weekend. Thank god you had Gym next, at least no homework could stem from that. Though, you wouldn’t be surprised.

Somehow the slow day was better. At least something was going on, now you sat a little apart from Liz’s group on the bleachers. You were currently doing your best to ignore their gossip until you heard a familiar name.

“Spider-Man? Isn’t that the guy who shoots webs?” Liz smiles, but her friends roll their eyes at your lack of knowledge.

“Yeah. He’s like our neighborhood’s personal hero.”

“And Liz is totally in love with him.” Liz shoved her friend playfully as she laughed and confirmed the statement. The others began to throw questions at her and you started to tune out until a boy, one of the two you began sketching at lunch, shouted across the room.

“Peter knows Spider-Man!” His friend was quick to his feet, stammering over an explanation.

Now this, is interesting.

Peter, who was the only complete part of the sketch you had elected to move on from, tried to cover his friend’s mishap. It was clear he didn’t want anyone knowing about his internship with Stark Industries. You grew curious. Liz invited him and his ‘supposed’ hero friend to her party.

“Oh. And you’re welcome too (Y/N).”

Fuck.

You were the opposite of a party person. You were always in the corner on your phone, no one electing to talk to you. You were not a dancer and knew maybe four people there at least 90% of the time. But with her looking you straight in the eye so sweetly, you found yourself having trouble saying no.

“Yeah, sure. Text me the address and I’ll be there.”

Your Aunt was surprised that you had already had an invite to a party, but didn’t have a car to take you there. You were furiously texting Liz in your last class of the day while the teacher brought up the PowerPoint.

Liz: Try asking Peter Parker.

You know the boy you were sketching at lunch?

I think he might live around your area.

Great. Now she was just enjoying matchmaking. You replied with a tongue sticking out emoji before pulling out a notebook and pen.

Peter’s locker was directly across from yours, but your nerves began spiking. How the hell do you just approach someone like this? What do you even say?

“Um, excuse me? You’re Peter right?” He was so distracted he nearly jumped at the sound of your voice behind him.

“Yeah. And… you’re, uh, (Y/N). Right?” He seemed to have the same nerves he had around Liz and you suspected he was the same with all the girls.

“Yup. Um, you’re going to Liz’s party right?” He nods. “Do you think I could tag along? My Aunt doesn’t own a car.”

“Oh, uh, sure. My Aunt May should be okay with that.”

“Cool. Uh, here’s my number and address. You’re a lifesaver.” He slipped the paper in his pocket as you walked away.

Over Your shoulder you shot him a small smile and a wave before heading to your bus. When he began to follow you nearly facepalmed, recalling that Liz said he lived by you. You sat in the empty second seat, right side of the bus, blocking the other half with your bag. Peter and his friend sat behind you. Your headphones were in, and the rest of the ride passed in a blur.

God certainly wasn’t short on humor.

Peter seemed equally shocked that you were both approaching the same lobby door, curious as to how you missed one another.

“I missed the bus this morning.” He stated, as if answering your thoughts. “May drove me.”

“Ah. Oh, Thanks.” You nodded and walked through the door he held open.

Outfits lay spread out on the bed, your mind doing calculations a mile a minute. Settling on black leggings and a Harry Potter t-shirt (Marauder’s Map), you began debating a jacket. When a knock sounded at the door you gave up and tied one around your waist, just in case.

Peter stood awkwardly in the living room/kitchen, your cousin bugging him relentlessly. He looked like a tomato. You chuckled at the sight.

“Is he your boyfriend? He won’t say anything but ‘um’. Is he why you moved here?” Now you were rendered speechless.

“I-uh. Oh Jesus, just go play your game, will ya?” You rushed Peter out the door, grateful Alec lost interest. “Sorry about him.”

Peter shakes his head like its no big deal before glancing down at your shirt.

“My eyes are up here Parker.” His eyes widen and somehow turns a darker shade of red.

“I-I was just admiring your Marauder’s Map shirt.” You giggled at his frantic mumbling, shaking your head.

“Only kidding. Shall we?”

The ride is only quiet when Peter’s Aunt pauses or runs out of questions. She is an extrovert in every way and you wish some of that would rub off on you before you entered the party.

“May this was a mistake. Maybe we should just drop (Y/N) off and go home.” There was no way you were letting this kid ditch. If you were going, then at least you’d have company in that corner you always ended up in.

“He’s so stressed out lately.”

“What helps with stress is going to a party. So, we should go to the party.” Ned was anxious to get inside and he was the only one.

The three of you stood on the lawn, gazing at the already raging party within. You glanced at Peter and saw your own nervousness reflecting back at you.

“Not a party person?” Peter leaned over and whispered.

“Not even close. I'm terrible at saying no.”

Inside the noise was pounding off the walls. Kids stood with actual red solo cups in hand like it was a teen movie.

Some kid was already picking on Peter and it's not even 2 minutes in.

“Hey. You're the new girl, right?” The stranger flickered a smirk as you nodded. “I'm Flash.” His wink had you staring in disbelief. Why would you be interested in someone who literally just insulted a person right in front of everyone on a mic.

“And I'm, not interested. C’mon, let's go get a soda or something.” Peter and Ned did their best to hide smiles as they passed him by.

“That was great. Can you do that again cause I wanna sell tickets to that show.” A girl leaned against the wall, a small smirk on her lips. “I'm Michelle.”

“We could have a Ted Talk on how to not be an ass.” You couldn't help but laugh with her at the thought. “I could do it in like two lines.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. It would go something like ‘Don’t be a dick. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.’” Peter nearly choked on his soda.

“You alright there Peter?” Liz appeared from around the corner, a look of confusion plastered on her face.

He smiles and nods, cheeks flushing. What a dork, you thought.

“Okay. Well... I'm glad you guys could make it. Have fun.” She was gone as quickly as she had arrived.

“I feel like my Ted Talks would have no chill though. I'm told I'm too open about topics that make people uncomfortable. Like periods and such.” Michelle glanced at you, smile growing.

“I think we'll get along just fine.”

It took you a few minutes to notice Peter and Ned had migrated toward the back door. You followed, sending Michelle a wave as you went. They became aware of your presence and their hushed mutterings ceased.

“Its okay if you leave us. Just so you know. You don't have to stuck around. We can find you later.” Peter didn't look you in the eye as he said this, instead opting to stare a hole in the floor.

“Oh.” That stung. You aren't sure why considering you hardly knew them. However, something had you feeling like this might've been your place. Ned. Peter. Michelle. You were a squad of misfits that seemed to piece together.

“He didn't mean it like that. You're more than welcome to hang with us.” Ned sent a sympathetic smile your way before leaning closer to whisper, loud enough that Peter could still hear. “He’s just nervous.”

“What? Why? Cause of the party?” Ned shook his head and pointed at you. “Me? What did I do?”

Peter shook his head. He really was nervous. His hands were constantly on the move, in his hair or smoothing his clothes. His feet kept shifting his weight from one to the other.

“It's not something you did.”

“He just likes you.”

“Dude!”

“Is that true? Peter?” You felt bad because he clearly wanted to tell you himself. But, you couldn't help but smile at the fact that Peter had a crush on you.

Though you weren't quite friends, you could tell he was a good guy. You now knew the lovesick stares he had sent from across the room were directed at you, he had jumped at the opportunity to drive you, and personally came up to your apartment to escort you to the car.

“Peter…”

“I um…. I'm gonna get some air.” And just like that he disappeared out the back door.

You could see him pacing the yard, looking as though he was chastising himself. It was hard to contain your smile.

“I should go talk to him.”

“No. I'll talk to him. You enjoy the party Ned. Rock that hat with confidence.” He beamed as you stepped out into the yard and gave you a double thumbs up.

Peter's head whipped around at the sound of the door, face flushed.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Your voice was small. Now you were the nervous one. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine.”

“Liar.” He chuckles at this. A smile dances on each of your faces. “Is it true?”

Gulp. He nods.

“Peter…”

“Its okay. I get it. You don't feel the same. It's not like we've been friends for years. We're strangers.”

“Not for long.”

“What?”

“Well, Ned basically invited me into your friend group. So I'm not going anywhere. Because, for the record, I think you're a great guy. Also, I expect a seat at your table. Yeah?” Peter's smile widens at the prospect.

“Really?” You nod.

“I'm afraid you're stuck with me Parker.”

“I think I'll live.”

Something, whether it be adrenaline or courage, gives you the strength to grab his hand and lead him back to the party. Or more specifically, the dance floor.

This was only the start. Maybe the move wasn't such a bad idea after all.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #beccas1kwritingchallenge #marvel #spiderman #spiderman homecoming

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write-geek-love · 4 years

Text

Shades of Red

Something had to be wrong with her.

All of her friends in high school had talked about boys (some of them even girls) with as much enthusiasm as she had for her books (and that was a lot.) But she looked at other people and never felt the pull of gravity towards them. There was never that blinding florescent light above her in the darkness to draw her in and zap her wings off.

There was none of that.

Until Arlo.

She met him the first week of college at a small gathering thrown by the RAs in their building. She thought he was nice and funny, and she needed to make some friends. She gave him her number, but again, there wasn’t anything more than lukewarm water in her kettle of feelings.

She thought he was cute—he was a tall, thin, white boy with hair the reddest of red and a bit of a Star Wars obsession—someone her okaasan might not approve of anyway. She admired him the same way she looked at her favorite Van Gogh—he was beautiful to look at, but he didn’t make her want to take off her clothes. That was fine though. He would have never liked her anyway—her waist didn’t go in enough, and she had one too many chins.

She was the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen.

Like ever.

He couldn’t help but stare at the way her eyes crinkled and her lips curled in a small smile when she started to ramble about the latest book she had finished (which seemed to be a new one every few days). He often found himself doodling cartoon versions her in the far corner of his notebook. Every time he went back through to study, he would smile at the round face with long black hair staring back at him.

Months flew by.

Christmas came and went.

The second semester started.

Still, she felt nothing but friendship for him.

This was okay. Friendships were important too. She probably needed those more than any romantic relationship anyway. Friendships just got you pizza dates. They had no chance at getting you pregnant or contracting Chlamydia.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her. He’d find himself staring out of an open window in class, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Even a peek at a black pony tail would give his heart a jolt.

Miki.

He was in love with her.

But he was too terrified to tell her.

So summer came and his secret remained.

She missed his presence while she read by the lake at her parents’ summer home.

He stared at his phone, thinking everything about her, but saying nothing to her.

It started slowly.

She liked to watch him sketch periodically for a few minutes at a time, temporarily distracted as she peered over the top of her book before her mind gently reminded her to get back to business.

Those few minutes turned into not being able to read at all with him around.

What was going on? What was wrong with her? And why was she getting the sudden desire to press her lips against his?

The trees were painted with the reds of the changing leaves as they strolled down the road. It was a student ritual to walk to downtown on weekends in October. There was a group of friends all dressed in hoodies in front of them in the near distance.

They were a group of just two.

They walked idly, taking special care to step over the occasional tree root poking out of the red brick sidewalk. They chatted about their classes. Arlo talked about the online response to his latest Star Wars fanart. His hand kept brushing against Miki’s. Every graze was met with a sharp intake of her lungs. At some point, she stopped listening. All she could think about was holding his hand.

They rounded the corner of Washington Street and walked up the sloping sidewalk to their favorite café for a quick bite. They pushed past a group of women dressed as the Sanderson sisters before they reached the front door. They crammed into the crowded room and ordered after waiting in line for a good ten minutes. On any other weekend, they would have sat down somewhere, but being day before Halloween, there was not a vacated seat to be had. They took their sandwiches and headed towards the statue of Samantha from Bewitched. They stood and watched the tourists take pictures in front of it as they devoured their lunch. Their breath was visible as they chewed. Once they had finished, they threw their wrappers in a nearby bin and headed for the Peabody Essex Museum.

They went through the double glass-doors and up to the counter on the left. They pulled out their student IDs and handed them to the cashier. She gave them a quick glance before handing them back with a pair of tickets. They took them and shoved their IDs back in their pockets before heading off past her.

With the exception of the visiting exhibits, they had seen it all before. It was a small museum and it never changed. Normally, their first stop would have been the Chinese house, but it was outside, so they skipped it that day. Instead they went up to the top floor.

They were greeted by a vast room full of large painted figureheads recovered from old Viking ships. It was empty. They moved towards the windows overlooking the heart of downtown.

“It’s insane how many people are here right now,” Miki commented, pressing her hands against the tall glass, as she gazed down at the crowds below.

“Yeah, but you know how it gets. It’s Salem.”

“I guess. But I feel like there were fewer people last year.”

“That’s because it was raining.”

“Oh yeah,” she said, distracted for a moment. She pointed at a tall woman. “Oh hey check out that lady.”

“Who Catwoman?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Bet you think she’s hot, right.”

“Nah,” he said, coming up from behind her. He rested his head on her shoulder. “She’s not really my type. There are girls I think are beautiful, but she’s not one of them.”

“Who do you think is beautiful then?”

“You.”

She turned sharply, causing him to stand up straight. She stared at him wide-eyed. Did he say what she thought he had said?

His mind started to panic. Had he really just said that?

Why did he say that? And why had it had set her heart on fire?

Should he have just said that?

She crashed her lips against his like the waves breaking against the rocky shoreline. He stared at her, his eyes becoming like the beacons on a lighthouse. She pressed up against him, her need for further contact growing inside of her. He wasn’t necessarily making her want to take her clothes off, but he was making her want to do other things. Like kiss his face until her lips turned raw.

The unrest in Arlo’s mind erased in a flash. He wrapped his bony arms around her, taking in all of her body. He closed his eyes and kissed her back with such passion that he would have been able to cure cancer if disease could be conquered by love alone.

If this was what all kissing was like, she never wanted to go a day without kissing again.

The golden light of the sun cascaded through the windows and rested on their connected bodies. He was kissing her, finally kissing her after so long of waiting, resigned to his position as best friend and confident. He never asked for more, never expected more, loving her no matter what she wanted from him. If this was what she wanted now, he was never going to stop kissing her. And he was never going to stop loving her.

#short story #writing #original characters #romance #lgbt romance #ace #asexual #ace romance #demisexual romance #YA #young adult romance #fall stories #salem

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your-high-lady · 5 years

Text

Realisation

Summary: This story is about Feyre. She has a couple of small dreams she wants to achieve but turns out it isn’t as easy as she imagined it would. Trust me, the story is better than the summary. Modern AU. Feysand.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't anything except for the plot. All credit goes to Sarah J Mass. That woman is fucking amazing.

Chapter 6: First Glimpse

Art History. Remind me again, why I chose this class. Oh, that's right. Because I thought it'd be interesting. How wrong I was. I shake my head at my own thoughts before crossing the threshold that would lead me into my next passage of life: college.

But why does Art History have to be the first class I ever took in college. Couldn't it be something like yoga, which I also happen to enjoy?

After almost an hour and a half of the balding male professor droning on and on, the rustling of students and scraping of chairs being pushed back awakened me from my half-unconscious state and I stood up to pack my bag. The next class, Visual Art was the total opposite. I found what the teacher was saying so interesting and barely two sentences into the class, and I was hooked. As I doodled—Miss Berger, a middle-aged woman who had a very good sense of style, light brown hair and huge glasses covering most of her face, had given us free time after explaining what we'd be learning over the semester and what our syllabus was—I thought about it all: I hadn't really known what I'd wanted to do during the first couple of months in Year 13, and I'd started getting a bit worried. And then the rape happened. Exactly two weeks after the incident, it had randomly hit me. I'd just been painting random things on a spare canvas I'd been able to salvage from my mess of a closet when I realised what I wanted to do. I wanted to teach. I wanted to teach people how to paint. Specifically, people who were mentally disturbed due to some incident in their life. I hadn't painted at all during the last couple weeks and today was one of the first times I'd even tried putting something onto a canvas. I didn't want that to happen to other people. I wanted to help them channel their grief into their painting, to create something new. I wanted to see if I could teach them to heal through their art, rather than stopping it altogether, as I had even it was only for a short time. I wanted to make my own business that did exactly that. And that is exactly why I took all the classes I had.

After Visual Art was over, I decided to go for a short walk. I had an hour before my next class, which was with Mor. Business—my only class with her. I was glad I had the class with her, but there was also the fact that Rhys and his friends were in that class too. The thought instantly brought butterflies to my stomach. Mor had messaged me halfway through Art telling me to come ten minutes early so that she could introduce me to him and his friends. Reading the message had immediately brought a picture to the front of my mind. A picture of Mor's cousin and his friends, who incidentally were also friends with Mor. The thought of seeing them made my skin crawl. It wasn't that I didn't want to see them. I was just a bit nervous. I'd only recently started getting used to the presence of men—though, I still shuddered and got all sweaty if I noticed someone with particularly golden or dark features—but I knew that the second I saw them, I would go back to square one where I was still a quivering mess. They were just so handsome. All three of them. As if God himself had handpicked each of their features and carefully put them together to create the closest thing he could to someone as overpowering as he was himself, in every sense. Plus, all of them had features that reminded me of that night. Rhys's dark blue hair reminded me of the shadows that had been in that dark alley; Cassian's golden skin reminded me of how beautiful and smooth Tamlin's had been under his clothes; and Azriel's hair, though not holding the same darkness in them, was still black. Too much like Dagdan's. Just thinking about them gave me a cold sweat so I quickly kicked all the horrid thoughts out of my head and started imagining the type of car I might want to get, and before long, I was swapping my art diary for a couple of textbooks and heading off to Business.

—

After having nearly asked ten people where my class was, I finally found it. And there they were. The class was half full, some people looking down at their phones or books while others chatted among themselves. But no one was as loud as Mor. She was practically shouting. But then my attention went towards the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. Rhys. Sensing my gaze, he turned to look at me, and I blinked in astonishment, a silent gasp escaping my mouth. I took a couple of steps back, wanting to run away but then Mor turned her head, following Rhys's gaze, and exclaimed, "Feyre, you're here!" She jumped out of her seat, grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me back into class. I was pretty sure at least one of my ankles were sprained judging by the number of times I tripped over my own feet as Mor dragged me in, by the time we reached Rhys and his friends. Moving to stand behind me she pushed me forward before standing on her tippy toes and peeking over my shoulder. "Guys, this is Feyre. Say hi." Mor drawled. Strangely Rhys just stared at me but, thankfully, Azriel replied before he could say anything. "Hello, Feyre. I'm Azriel." He stuck his hand out, and I stared at for the shortest second.

In that second, a hundred things went through my mind: the rape, the emotions I went through afterwards, me flinching at my father's touch, me promising myself that I would stop that. Azriel's handsomeness. Because he was handsome. All three of them were. But each of them was also so different in their own way. Azriel's face was straight and void of any emotion—though a small smile lit up his face, every time he looked at Mor—and he was tall and mysterious with his black hair and hazel eyes. His skin was tan, the planes of his face elegant. Peaking above the neck of his long-sleeved t-shirt I could see a swirling mass of night-blue coloured tattoos. If I was being honest with myself they were a big intimating but despite that, strangely enough, he made me feel… safe. As if he would protect me no matter what. It gave me some solace because I had always trusted my gut. And right now my gut was telling me that he was good. So I shook his hand.

And then it happened. I flinched.

Thankfully it wasn't big enough for Azriel to notice, but it still made me angry. Why didn't my body understand that I was safe now, or at least as safe as I could be? Tamlin was back in Auckland. Far, far away from here, from me.

Taking a couple of subtle deep breaths, to calm myself down, I took my hand out of Azriel's and moved my eyes to look at Cassian. Whereas Azriel made me feel safe, Cassian made me feel…happy. It took a couple of seconds for me to realise that but when I did, I knew that that was in fact what I was feeling. Happiness. It was something so foreign to me now. But it was impossible to not feel happy when I looked into Cassian's hazel eyes and saw humour and laughter and happiness. His rough-hewn features that reminded me of wind, earth and fire had been twisted into a giant smile. His black shoulder length hair brushed his shoulders on which I could also see tattoos similar to the ones on Azriel's body. A quick glance at Rhys told me he also had the blue swirls. Maybe they'd gotten them together at the same time?

Cassian gave me a wave in greeting, his smile widening. "Cassian." He said, in introduction. I waved back, forcing my mind to stop thinking about the flinch. But it was impossible. I turned to find Rhys's hand outstretched. Ignoring it, I looked up at his face. His eyebrows raised slightly as I took in his heartbreakingly handsome face, my eyes widening a little. The pictures I'd seen did him no justice at all. None. His hair was a strange shade of blue and black, cut short. They reminded me of a raven's feather. His violet eyes had flecks of silver in them making it seem like stars in the night sky. He was also tan like the other two, though unlike Cassian and Azriel, there was a tightening in his muscles. I could see it in the ways his shirt tightened around the shoulders. Other than that, lines also made his otherwise-perfect face, a little flawed, though if I was being honest to myself, even the lines made him handsome.

I don't know why I noticed such an odd and minuscule thing, but it bothered me. Someone like Rhys shouldn't have lines caused by months, if not years, of stress and grief marking his face. Someone cleared their throat, and I blinked, then quickly shook my hand with Rhys which was still expectantly waiting. But I hadn't thought about it. And because I hadn't thought about it, I flinched. Harder. Not much more than before, but enough that he noticed. A line formed between Rhys's brows and his head tilted a little to the side in silent question. I shook my head just enough so that he noticed, but the others didn't. I slipped my hand out of Rhys's and Mor started babbling about things that passed right over my head, though I did hear a few words like "art", "passion" and "own business". I guessed that Mor was telling them about me as a person. But even as Mor was talking, I could feel a set of eyes on me. I turned to look at Rhys, who was staring at me. In those stunning eyes of his, I could see it as he'd written it across his forehead. His eyes told me that he was surprised by the flinch and would not let it go. I cursed at myself silently, for letting the flinch get through my defences. Soon the professor came in, and we all took our seats.

But still, I felt those eyes burning two giant holes into the back of my head. I tried convincing myself that I was just imagining it, that he had no reason to stare at for me for so long, but when I turned around to look, I found them. Every single time. And each time, I whipped my head back around, blushing. It made me think: Rhys had no reason to be staring at me; what was he thinking about?

But running along with those thoughts, were also the thoughts about how he made me feel. Physically. Because, though I don't want to admit it, he made me feel… hot. Right down there, in my core. I'd never thought I could feel something like that. Not after what Dagdan did to me. Yet here I was, flinching at the surprise of feeling aroused.

But then, of course, I was.

—

The professor released us, and as we were packing our bags, Cassian suggested we hang out on Saturday. Mor piped up with, "Ooh, ooh, can we go to that mini golf place that stays open really late? We can have dinner somewhere, first, and then go there! Please, please, please?" She says turning to Rhys, and she brings her hands together as if praying and jumps up and down in excitement. He smiled, nodding causing Mor to squeal and give her cousin a tight hug.

—

"But I don't want to go!" I whined. Mor shushed me and strutted a couple of steps ahead of me before turning around to look at me. As she walked backwards, she said, "But why don't you want to go? Give me one good reason. Just one." And damn me, I said nothing, just breathed deeply in and out of my nose. I shook my head, defeated and she smiled at me before linking her arm in mine and skipping sway, dragging me along with her.

The truth was, I did have a reason. I just couldn't tell her. It was Rhys. I just knew he was going to do something that would either annoy the heck out me, offend me, or in worst case scenario blow my cover. Nobody knew about my flinching problem other than Dad and Rhys, and neither of them knew why. And I wanted to keep it that way. But something told me Rhys wouldn't let that happen.

Ugh.

AN: I really, really hoped you like that. Did I describe the boys properly? Do you like them? Are you happy? Do you have any feedback or advice for me? Tell me everything. I love it so much when you write to me telling me what you think of my story. It really makes my day and also motivates me to keep writing. Thank you so much for reading and I hope to see you again.

Thank you again. So much. XOXO

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the-sweetest-dragon · 5 years

Text

Souls Uniting

Part One: Moving Day

Pairing: eventual Soulmate!Peter Parker x OC Phoenix Graves

Word Count: 2326

Warnings: None, just world building

AN: I’m kinda in love with this AU, not gonna lie.

Tags: @audder17 you spider-man lover you

Check out this character sheet here

_________________________________________________________

A soulmate is not found. A soulmate is recognized. - Vironika Tugaleva

9:32 A.M., Friday, May 31st, 2019

Soft music played in the background as Mom and I moved around our old apartment. Throwing things in boxes, not caring if things break; things were just things after all. All of our personal things had already been shipped across half the nation, sent to their new home in Queens, New York. We were moving, again. I wonder if this one will be permanent or if we’ll be moving again in a few months. Not that I was sad to leave Topeka, in fact I loved that we were leaving. I was going to miss what few friends I have made here, but they would be easily forgotten, just like all my other old friends. I was finally going back to my birth state of New York and I felt… excited. We hadn’t been back since I was eight, so my memories of our old apartment were faded, but the warm feeling lingered.

Mom pushed her black hair out of her eyes, huffing slightly at the work we still had left to do. Her job made us move around a lot, being a freelance writer does that for you. Sometimes, when she didn’t want me going with her, she’d leave me at home for weeks at a time. I never really mind being left alone; I’m just fine by myself.

I tape up the last box and head downstairs, Mom close on my heels with boxes of her own. We were going to be driving to Queens, rather than taking a plane. Planes freaked both my mom and I out; being so far off the ground wasn’t natural and I absolutely hated it. So, we drove. Since I got my license, this was going to be the first time I would be able to take a turn so Mom could rest. She’s both nervous and excited at the prospect of a break. The drive was about twenty hours, nonstop, and we had planned a few stops on our way there. Our summer was going to be fun, despite the moving.

“You ready Phee?” Mom asks. I smile ruefully and pull my hair up off my neck for a moment. The air is still slightly cool, not quite summer yet and I’m happy that we are leaving before the heat really sets in.

“I was born ready Mom.” She smiles and bumps my arm.

“Have any more drawings shown up on your arm?” she asks. I sigh. I should have never mentioned the signs from my soulmate. Mom seems to think that whoever is is, they have to be in New York. Why does she think this? I have no clue and I hate to ask. Mothers’ minds work differently to us teens’. I begrudgingly slide my sweater sleeve up for her to look at. Last night a crude drawing of a spider had shown up on my arm, completely in pen. I couldn’t wash it off until the other person washed off the art. “Well, that’s not that good is it?” Mom laughs softly and opens the door to the truck.

“It’s really not. I half wanted to draw something back, but I thought that may be show-offish.” I smirk and hop into the truck. I’m ready to go, have been since we came here to be completely honest. Kansas kinda sucked, but the winter’s where we’re going are even worse so I’m not sure which I prefer.

“Have you ever written back?” she asks quietly as she starts the truck. I look out the window, too scared to tell her no. I hadn’t written back because I wasn’t sure that soulmates were a thing I wanted. A person that the universe made for you isn’t always the person that is right for you. Love doesn’t work that way. I softly trace the outline of the spider and wonder who the person may be, what they’re like and if they really were in New York. “It wouldn’t kill you to at least answer them, Phee. It may even start a conversation.” Mom held out an ink pen. I stare at it for a moment before taking it from her.

“I don’t…” I start then stop, to think about what I want to say, how to word what I’m feeling. “What do I even say to them?” Mom smiles and shakes her head. I buckle my seat-belt as she starts to pull away from our old building.

“Just doodle. See what comes pouring out. Let your heart guide your hand.”

Smiling, I set the tip of the pen against my skin and begin my slow descent into the depths of my artistic ability. I draw constellations on my arms, connecting the dots when we pause to eat in Indianapolis. While stopped, I dug out my favorite set of markers from a box in the back and sketch out a better looking spider, wondering if the other person will notice right away that they have had more added to their arms than the usual note or number adorning their wrist. I liked having numbers on my wrist, like a countdown to an important day. I would doodle a lot in middle school, always bored with something. I hope whoever it is doesn’t mind the drawings I set into our skin.

Our cats, Salem and Sabrina were allowed brief interludes of being out of their kennels to walk about on their leashes and eat. I worry about them when we move because they’re usually kept enclosed for hours at a time, which isn’t good for them. I make sure to give them both a cuddle before we leave the state of Indiana to make the last little bit of our trip.

I drive for a while, wondering about whoever was tethered to me. Do they believe in this soulmate stuff? A small part of me hopes they do, because when the soulmate is right, it can be magic. One of my friends back in Olympia recently found her soulmate, after years of wondering about the time stamped on her wrist. She had met her girlfriend at exactly 2:43 A.M., in a coffee shop not too far from her house. She said that it was an instant click, like a string attached her to this person and the only way to ease the tension was to go towards that pull. It sounded wonderful, but I had seen too many people get ruined by believing their soulmate was the only one the universe had made for them.

The awful part of having a soulmate was knowing that most people had them, but there was always a small chance that you didn’t or found the wrong one. I believe that the universe makes several soulmates for each individual; sometimes, the soulmates aren’t ready for each other or the bond isn’t reciprocated. It hurts to know that your soulmate could exist, but not want you. And the ones who lose their soulmates? They’re rarely the same afterwards. I glance towards the black band around my mother’s wrist. When she was young, the band had been pure gold; her soulmate was alive and well. And they found each other, they loved until they couldn’t anymore. Her soulmate, my father, passed away weeks before I was born and Mom was never the same. She hated staying in the same place, things always felt weird to her, like the world was just a little off kilter.

Soulmates were great, until they weren’t there anymore.

2:55 A.M., Saturday, June 1st, 2019

We drive for several more hours until we get into Pennsylvania to stop for the night. Mom gets us a motel room and we grab some food from the vending machines before hitting the hay. It’s nearly four A.M. when I finally close my eyes. Waking up was going to be difficult, but I wasn’t fond of the dreams I had been having. Visions of a terrifying, flying monster coming towards me had haunted my dreams since the fall and I absolutely hated them. I toss and turn for a few hours, before Mom shakes me awake.

“Time to go Phoenix.” I groan and cover my head with a pillow. I hear Mom laugh softly. “I have chocolate chip muffins.” Now that is how you get my attention. I’m immediately up and ready to go. Mom just laughs at me as I stuff muffins into my mouth. “We have about a three hour drive to our new apartment. You ready?”

I tap my chin in thought for a few moments before nodding. “Just keep the muffins coming.”

Mom shakes her head as we pack up the few belongings we brought into the motel room. I check on the cats, make sure that they have food and take them on a short walk to do their business. Mom and I get back into the truck to complete the drive, with me driving until we reach the city. We groove out to the radio, shouting the words to Lizzo’s Truth Hurts, when Mom notices that I have a bit of marker on my face.

“I’m sure your person will love having marker on their face.” I laugh and shake my head. She wipes away the marks with her thumb. “There, all better.”

We switch once we reach the New York state line and I put our new address into the GPS. I make Mom pull over for a quick lunch at McDonalds before we continue on to our new home. This is when it starts to rain, making me glad that we switched. I hate driving in the rain; makes it hard to see and I enjoy seeing. While at the McDonalds, I washed off all the old marker in the bathroom. An elderly woman saw me and smiled, knowing that was my soulmate’s mark on me. I frowned at my reflection in the mirror; I looked a mess but I didn’t really think it mattered that much. All we were doing was driving.

Once back on the road, Mom talks to me about the school I’d be attending next semester, Midtown High School. She tells me that it’s more science based and I crinkle my nose. I’m smart, don’t get me wrong, but science is not really my forte. I’m more of an artsy, creative writing, type rather than an intellectual sciencey type. Mom sees the worry in my face and tries to soothe the worries by giving me the best news possible.

“Michelle Jones goes there.” My heart drops and I let out a very unlike me squeal. Michelle was one of my best friends from when we lived here before. We kept in touch and she was still a huge part of my life. “I take that as a good thing?”

“It’s the best thing you’ve said all day!” I give her a side hug, making sure to keep my arm away from the steering wheel. Mom laughs and shakes her head ruefully. I’m giddy in my seat now. “How much longer till we get there?”

“About an hour. You should call her, see if she’d want to come hang out and help us unpack.” I nod and text her quickly. She answers back quickly and we make a plan to hang out tomorrow. I glance down at my arms, wondering if there is anymore doodles on them but all I can see is a faded spider. I trace its legs with a fingertip; why a spider? What meaning could it possibly have? Maybe, whoever it is is a fan of the Spider-Boy thing that crawls around Queens. I shrug and decide to look out the window to pass the time we have left in the car.

4:17 P.M., Saturday, June 1st, 2019

When we finally reach our new apartment, the first thing I do is let Salem and Sabrina out to walk around a little bit. I bring them into the apartment after getting a few confused looks and help Mom unpack all our junk. The apartment has two bedrooms, a fairly spacious kitchen and bathroom, and a practically nonexistent living room. The room barely fits our rather small couch and television set, but I don’t really mind.

“I’ve been given the go ahead on painting the walls,” says Mom. I smile at her; our last apartment wouldn’t let us decorate very much, which was fine, but I made sure to ask specifically for a building that would allow me to paint the walls. I wanted my artwork to surround me and make it feel more like a home, rather than a place where we happen to live. I made a mental note to start sketching ideas when I finally had time to do so this summer.

I finish unpacking the stuff for my room and get to work putting my mattress down onto the frame we had ordered a week ago to be delivered here. The room wasn’t huge, but I would make do. It held my desk and bed fairly well; that’s all I really needed anyways. Sometime during me opening boxes of stuff, Mom ordered Chinese food from a place down the street from us. A knock can be heard throughout the small apartment and I can hear Mom have a short conversation with the delivery guy before calling my name for dinner.

Dinner is great, and warm. I snarf down my sweet and sour chicken quickly, wanting to get back to unpacking as soon as I can.

“Slow down, Phee. You’re gonna make yourself sick,” Mom says with a shake of her head. But I’m distracted now by the slow arrival of a new drawing on my right forearm. I show Mom, not sure of what it is. “It looks like a science formula for something. I’m no expert though.” I shrug and finish my food. Time to sketch my ideas for the walls onto paper.

#spiderman #peter parker #new story #phoenix graves #soulmate au #i'm in love #send help #marvel #michelle jones #spider-man far from home #spider-man homecoming

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the-manor-7 · 5 years

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Soulmate au - Jimin pt.1

[au: You and your soulmate switch bodies. This ability does not fade after meeting each other.]

I kept on a smile as I dismissed my class.

"Good evening, I'll see you all tomorrow! Remember, you have the group project due next Friday!"

After all of the young adults filed out of the room, I slumped down into my swivel-chair and sighed, setting my head down in my arms.

I love my job, I really do. But, it's nearing the end of the semester, and I have been pulling all-nighters grading papers and trying to help my not-so-motivated students bring their grades up.

I work in a small university in Oregon, United States as an Algebra professor. This is one class that people either love or hate, it's not one that someone can tolerate. Which in turn means I have students that excel, and others who are falling behind.

"Ms. Davis...?" I heard a tentative voice call from the door.

I quickly picked my head up and straightened my hair, "Yes?"

A blond-haired female freshman gently pushed open the door and made her way over to my desk.

"Um...I have a question about today's homework..."

I smiled at her, "Well, that's what I'm here for, isn't it?"

After about ten minutes, we had her uncertainties all sorted out and I sent her back on her way.

Not wanting to run into anyone else (even though I cared deeply for my students), I quickly put all of the paperwork I needed for that night into my briefcase and headed out the door, down the hall to the elevator, to the first floor, out the main door, and into my car.

On my way home, I distracted myself from the incessant traffic by blasting my music and focusing on anything but my itching need to snap at the drivers next to me.

You can probably tell I do not deal well with traffic.

Once I arrived at my residence, I quickly exited my car, making sure to lock it, and climbed the stairs to my small apartment.

Once I opened the door, I was greeted by silence, something I deeply craved at the moment.

Collapsing onto the couch, I quickly fell asleep.

***

I woke up to the sound of constant chatter buzzing in my ears.

Wait a minute....I'm in my apartment...there shouldn't be anyone here.

I jumped up and screamed at the intruders, "What the heck are you doing in my house?"

Um...what? That was definitely not my voice.

I took a look around the room.

And this is definitely not where I live.

Six young male adults were staring at me with wide eyes.

"Hey, Jimin-ssi" one of the ones closest to me spoke up, "Are you alright?"

"Jimin...?" I rushed over to a mirror that was on the wall.

The sight that greeted me was not the normal one. The person I saw staring back at me was a handsome male who had all-too-perfect hair and extraordinary fashion sense. Big improvements from my casual daily wardrobe.

And I did what any normal person would have done in the same situation: I screamed.

As I freaked out, everyone else in the room did too.

Despite the chaos, two of the males came behind me and restrained my arms.

"Jimin-ah! Calm down!" One of them yelled.

Despite having more strength than I usually do, I did not know how to wield it, so I went limp in their grasp.

Once they let go, I collapsed onto the floor and curled myself up into a ball and tried not to cry. I was just so confused that I didn't know what to do (and I firmly believe that one cries because they feel too much of one emotion, despite what emotion it is).

One of them knelt down beside me and placed a (I suppose comforting) hand on my back, "Jimin-ah, what's wrong?"

I kept my head down in my hands, "Who's Jimin?"

The hand on my back halted, "What?"

I looked up at him, "You keep calling me Jimin, but that's not my name. Who is he?"

"Wait a minute," he looked into my eyes as if to search for something, "You're not Jimin, are you?"

"Isn't that what I just told you?" I surprised myself with my ability to be snarky in a situation like this and placed a hand over my mouth.

But he just laughed, "Who are you really?"

I wrapped my arm back around my leg, "Crystal Davis."

"Female?" I turned to glare at him but realized I was in a male body, so it was hard to tell.

"Yes."

"How old are you?"

I raised an eyebrow at him, "...twenty-seven...?"

He smiled, "So you're a Noona then."

Suddenly everything clicked into place in my head, the names, the honorifics, "Are we in South Korea?"

"Yes."

He scrutinized me for a moment, "Where do you live?"

"In the United States."

His eyes widened, "America?!"

"...yes?"

"That's so far away!"

I nodded, "Yeah."

The male next to me groaned, "I hope he's doing all right."

"He's probably really confused. Wait," I looked at him in slight panic, "What time is it? In the United States, West Coast?"

He looked it up, "7 o'clock."

It was my turn to groan, "I need to be at work in an hour."

"Where do you work?"

"I'm a math professor at a university in Oregon."

"Professor?"

"So should we call you Professor Davis now?"

"Only my formal students call me that, so no." I tapped him on the arm, "Can you please call my phone? Maybe he'll respond to you. I need him to call in sick for me, I don't know how long this is going to last."

He nodded and took out his device, "What is your number?"

After I recited it to him, he held it up to his ear as I waited in anticipation.

I heard someone pick up on the other end of the line and my frantic voice, "Um, hello? Who is this?"

"Hello, Jimin."

"Hyung?! Oh, thank God! What is going on?"

"You switched bodies with your soulmate."

"Oh" he paused, "Are they there?"

"Yes, they're sitting next to me. But right now, they need you to do something for them."

"...what is it?"

"You need to call in sick to their work." "Um...ok. Where?"

He looked over at me.

I whispered, "University of Oregon."

"And what is their name?"

He didn't have to look to me for that answer, "Crystal Davis."

"Ok, Hyung. I'll call back when I'm done."

"Thank you, Jimin."

They ended the call.

I leaned back against the wall, "Thank you."

He smiled at me, "No problem."

I finally got a good look at the rest of the people in the room and saw them all looking at me in confusion, others in interest, and others in disinterest.

I turned back to the person who was sitting next to me, "What is your name?"

He smiled, "My name is Kim Namjoon."

"It's nice to meet you." I looked around the room, "And the rest of you? What are your names?"

They all introduced themselves and I learned their names were: Jin (who was the other person to help calm me down), Yoongi, Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jungkook.

Jimin called back a few minutes later.

It was still so weird to hear my voice.

"Ok, Hyung. I did it."

"Thank you, Jimin."

He paused for a second, "Um...Hyung?"

"Yes?"

"Can I talk to her?"

Namjoon looked over at me and I shook my head, "We probably won't be able to speak. Let's wait until later."

Even though I didn't know much about soulmates and the like, at least I remembered that much.

Namjoon relayed the message and I could tell Jimin was trying to hide his disappointment, "Ok, Hyung. That's fine. Can you ask her to write some things about herself down? So I can get to know her?"

Namjoon looked over at me, but before I could agree, I was transferred back to my body.

I blinked and realized I was in the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror, with my phone in my hand.

"Namjoon, are you there?" I asked the person I had been previously been sitting in front of.

"Crystal? Is that you?"

"Yeah, we switched back. Can I call you back later or something? I need to call my boss back and tell him I can come to work after all."

"Sure, go ahead."

"And can you let Jimin know that I'll write down my daily routine and my contacts or something. So he knows what to do next time it happens. And can he do the same for me? In case it lasts longer next time?"

I heard a muffled response from the person in question and Namjoon answered back, "He says he'll make sure to do that."

I nodded and hung up the phone, sighing as I ran a hand through my hair.

It's a good thing I saved up my vacation days.

***

It had been about a month since our first switch and it had happened once a week (almost) since.

Some weeks it was more frequent, some weeks, it didn't happen at all.

One time, when we switched, Jimin was in the middle of dance practice and was a sweaty mess (that was awkward). Another incident had been while I was cooking, another in the middle of a lesson. There was no rhyme or reason to it, it just occurred whenever it felt like it.

Over this period of time, I discovered that Jimin was part of a K-Pop band named BTS (and I may or may not have almost all of their songs playing on repeat seven days a week).

Today was another one of those days. Only this time, I had been working on a report that was due in two days (per the end of the school year) that I had mistakenly neglected and now I was using every spare moment of my time on.

When I took in a quick breath and blinked rapidly to adjust to my new body, I found myself staring up at a ceiling and laying in a foreign bed.

I sat up and stretched, grabbing the notepad out of Jimin's sweatpants' pocket (we started this after the second switch. We write random thoughts down, almost like a diary. Whenever we transfer to the other's body, we can read what the other has been doing).

There wasn't much in it, only a note that read:

Jagiya,

If you read this, please do not ask the others what is going on. I will explain later! I love you!

Jimin ❤️

I smiled at the pet name and the cute doodle at the end before flipping through the pages to make sure I didn't miss anything.

Once it was confirmed, I walked over to the bedroom door and peeked out into the hallway.

Upon hearing voices, I followed them down the carpeted path and into the living room and kitchen area.

"Hello, everyone!" I smiled at them as I took a seat in one of the nearest chairs.

They were so used to the switches now, that they took one look at me and answered, "Hey, Crystal!"

I looked over at Taehyung as he entered the room, rubbing his eyes.

"Hi, Noona." He said sleepily, before sitting down heavily in one of the chairs, grabbing a pillow in the process, and curling up into a ball.

As I adored his cuteness, Namjoon grabbed my attention, "Noona, did Jimin write anything down?"

I tore my gaze away from Tae (quite a difficult task), "He just told me not to ask anything. Which makes me want to do it even more...." I grumbled.

Jin sat down across the room from me, "Get some food, maybe that will help."

I nodded and made my way over to the kitchen, "Probably. What to we have?" I asked as I opened the refrigerator.

"Leftover Chinese" Jin called.

I pulled the white containers out of the fridge and a plate out of the cupboard, grabbing a spoon and dishing the delicious food onto the plate.

As I waited for the microwave to finish, something clicked, "Wait a second..."

I walked out of the room and stopped in front of Namjoon with my hands on my hips, "Are we in America?"

He looked surprised, but tried (ineffectively) to hide it, "What?"

"Well, we're not in the dorm, and Jimin told me not to ask any questions, which is suspicious in itself. And you have AMERICAN Chinese food, emphasis on the American. Now, are we in the United States or are we not?"

"Noona..."

"What?"

"Jimin..."

I sighed, and decided to keep my promise, "Fine, fine."

I walked over to the microwave and pulled my food out, grabbing a spoon, and sat back down in my chair.

Then, before I knew it, I was back in my own body, eating lunch.

I pouted and pushed my grilled chicken around on my plate.

I'm really in the mood for Chinese food now.

***

I yelled over the top of the crowd as Yoongi barked orders at me through the phone, "Ok, ok! I'm coming! Do you know how crazy your fans are?!"

He grumbled at me to hurry up, Jimin was getting impatient, and an impatient Jimin is never pleasant.

I grumbled right back before I shoved my ID in the undeserving security guard's face.

Once he verified my identity, he let me through the doors.

On the other side, there was a long hallway, lit with blinding ceiling lights and lined with countless doors.

And among the stagnant, white hallway, I saw a colorful figure running in my direction.

All of my frustration melted away and a smile grew on my face as Jimin ran towards me.

"Jagi!" He reached me a few seconds later and lifted me up and spun me around a few times before setting me back down.

He looked down at me and smiled his crescent-eyed smile as I cupped his face with both of my hands.

"Jimin..." my voice cracked with emotion as I tried to control it, but failed miserably.

He wrapped his arms around me and brought his head to rest on my shoulder. "I missed you, Crystal."

"I missed you too, Jimin." I wrapped my arms around him and held him close, not wanting to let him go.

It wasn't until I felt him start to shake that I was pulled out of my trance, "Oh, no no no." I leaned away (still in his grasp) and lifted his face so I could see it.

He looked at me, thoroughly confused, as a singly tear trailed down his face, "Jagi? What's wrong?"

I wiped the tear away with the edge of my sleeve, "You already have your make-up finished, you can't go and cry now. Wait until the concert is over!"

He just laughed and pulled me closer to him, "Yes, Professor."

"Oh, so I'm 'Professor' now?" I said playfully before obliging and surrendering to the embrace, enjoying the feeling of finally being held in my soulmate's arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave comments and requests!

Thank you,

The_Manor

Masterlist

#bts #Jimin #Jiminxreader #x reader #soulmate au #au

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