maze

how i got billericious btw ⤵︎

the thing about being an art teacher was that you were always drawing.

sometimes it was intentional. lesson demonstrations for your classes, examples on the board, little visual guides for students who understood shapes better than words.

sometimes it wasn’t. doodles in the corners of lesson plans, tiny flowers around meeting notes, absent-minded shading while waiting for the copier to unjam itself for the third time that morning. you drew when you were bored. you drew when you were stressed. you drew when you needed to think.

which was exactly how this happened.

because somehow, over the course of the last few months, your sketchbook had become embarrassingly full of malcolm. it started innocently enough: the curve of his profile while he sat across from you during lunch, tuning his guitar in your classroom. then it became the slope of his shoulders when he laughed too hard. then his hands- god, his hands, long fingers always tapping out rhythms on desks or tightening guitar strings or brushing yours just long enough to make your stomach flip.

it was harmless. you were telling yourself exactly that while sitting in your classroom during the class before lunch, shading the newest sketch. this one was your favorite so far. malcolm laughing, head tipped back slightly, hair falling over his forehead, eyes crinkled in a way that always made your chest fill with an aching pain.

you were so focused on getting the shadow beneath his jaw right that you nearly launched out of your chair when someone cleared their throat. you slammed your sketchbook shut so quickly the sound echoed through the room. one of your students blinked at you from the front of your desk, holding a marker.

“i came back to return the sharpie i borrowed...”

“oh, of course!” you answered far too loudly, immediately grabbing the marker from their hands. "thank you for remembering to bring it back - now you should probably pack up, right? it's almost lunch i believe!"

"um...okay?"

they backed out slowly.

you exhaled. this was ridiculous. you were a grown adult. you shouldnt be hiding sketches like a teenager stuffing diary pages under a mattress.

the bell rings and the students pack up quickly. you wave and smile softly as the last few stragglers make it out of the door. when the room is empty, you look back at your sketchbook. you can still feel your heart pounding against your chest.

three rhythmic knocks break you out of your daze. your body feels out of your control.

"come in!" you say, trying your hardest to sound normal.

malcolm steps in, confident grin halfway formed.

“hi, honey.”

you hated that one word still made you warm all over.

“hi, malcolm.”

things had been better lately. much better. after the assembly, after finally talking about the almost-kiss that had haunted both of you for weeks, things had slowly started finding their way back to normal. except not normal. softer than normal. sweeter. his lunch visits had returned. your classroom door stayed unlocked. you found reasons to wander past the music room again. you stood closer now. lingered longer than before.

but somehow, despite all of that, still no kiss. not yet. it felt intentional. like both of you were circling it. waiting.

"you look...guilty." malcolm said suddenly.

you blinked. “what?”

he pointed dramatically at your face. “that expression. that’s your guilty face.”

“i don’t have a guilty face.”

he dropped into the chair across from your desk, leaning forward with suspiciously narrowed eyes.

“what did you do?”

you sigh dramatically, automatically getting too defensive, "nothing!"

you rolled your eyes, but his gaze had already drifted straight to your sketchbook. your stomach dropped. it was just sitting there. closed. innocent. except now it looked wildly suspicious.

his eyebrows lifted, a look of annoying persistence settled on his face.

“what’s that?”

“nothing.”

that came too fast, and his grin widened immediately.

“oh, now i know it’s something.”

you stood and grabbed it before he could move, "it's just a sketchbook, malcolm."

his eyebrows furrowed as he just looked at you, like he was trying to read you.

“can i see?” his hands were already reaching for it before he finished his sentence.

you turned your body, trying to shield it, “no, you cannot”

his eyes lit up, like he enjoyed playing this game.

“why not?”

“because it’s private.”

“you’ve never cared before.”

“well. i care now.”

he stared. you clutched the sketchbook tighter. his mouth opened slightly, as if he wasn't sure what he was gonna say next.

"is it me?"

your body reacted before your mind could fully comprehend his words, all of your movement freezing. if it wasn't obvious before, it was painfully obvious now.

"no, why would you even suggest tha-"

"oh my god, it's me," you shake your head violently as he continues, "you drew me."

you stared at him. he stared at you. silence. then-

“give me the sketchbook.”

“absolutely not.”

he got closer. you backed away, trying to create any amount of distance. he followed quickly.

"let me see it!"

"nope." you pop the 'p'.

“be reasonable.”

“i am being reasonable!”

“you’re literally hiding behind a drying rack.”

you looked down. you were. oh my god, you hated him.

“malcolm,” you said carefully, seriously.

his tone softened immediately.

“did you draw me?”

you looked anywhere but at him, which was answer enough. his face changed in an instant. all smugness gone, replaced by something quieter, something warmer.

“you drew me,” he repeated softly, almost to himself.

you groaned, covering your face with one hand. you could feel the heat rising on your cheeks.

he grabbed the hand that was covering you softly, lowering it to your side but still keeping it connected to his. with his free hand, he softly reached for the sketchbook. you didn't fight his grip this time.

he took it carefully. like it mattered. which somehow made your chest ache worse. he let go of your hand and started to flip through the different pages. he was quiet, too quiet. you bit your lip nervously, waiting for any kind of reaction. he was careful, running his fingertips softly over every drawing, like he could feel the work you had put into it. the drawings of his hands, the detail of his lips, how you perfectly captured the slope of his nose.

you couldn't take the quietness anymore. at this point, you were just trying to save yourself from the embarrassment of the rejection that had to be coming.

“i was gonna throw it out.”

he looked up so quickly it startled you.

“don’t.”

his voice was immediate. sincere.

“why?”

he closed the sketchbook and held it against his chest.

“because nobody’s ever looked at me like this before.”

your lips parted.

“malcolm-”

“you notice everything,” he said quietly. “i thought i was the only one paying attention.”

your throat tightened, "you aren't."

he smiled at you softly, "no. i'm not."

the air shifted. something fragile suddenly becoming heavier. more obvious. you stepped closer.

he didn’t move.

“you really don’t think it’s weird?”

“oh, i definitely think it’s weird.”

you smacked his arm.

he laughed - then caught your wrist gently. his thumb settled against your pulse. neither of you were smiling anymore.

you stared at him. then slowly, he held his hand out. palm up. your breath caught. you placed yours in it. his fingers curled around yours immediately. warm. steady. familiar.

too intimate.

you looked down at them. you laughed softly, and then looked up.

which was a mistake, because he was already staring. eyes on your mouth. your face burned.

“you’re doing that thing again.”

“what thing?”

“staring.”

“can you blame me?”

he stepped closer, backing you up until your hips hit a counter.

"malcolm?"

"yeah?"

"are you gonna kiss me?", you laughed shakily. your hand moved to his shirt, curled into the fabric just like before. and instead of pushing him away, you pulled him closer.

that was all he needed.

his hand lifted to your jaw. careful, like he’d imagined this too many times.

and then finally—he kissed you.

slowly, and far more softly deserved than the months of tension. you melted against him instantly his thumb brushed your cheek. your fingers tightened in his shirt. you kissed him back harder, and the surprised laugh that escaped him only made you smile against his mouth.

“wow,” he whispered when he pulled back.

“shut up.”

he kissed you again. longer, entirely more certain. the kind of kiss that said finally. when he pulled away, your foreheads stayed together, both breathing too hard. both smiling.

“so,” he murmured, “does this mean i can model for future sketches?”

you laughed, “you are insufferable.”

“but am i inspiring?”

“unfortunately.”

his grin returned in full.

“i knew it.”

you looked up and smiled at him, and in his eyes you can see forever.

EXTRA

faye and mareli walk side by side to the art room wanting to check in on their final projects. out of habit, faye goes to check to see if the doorknob is locked.

it opens. weird.

"mareli, be quiet-" she immediately shushes her friend, feeling something was up. she cracked the door open as marely peaks over her shoulder.

mareli is unable to hide her shock, "holy. fucking. shit." she whispers to her friend, "thats lipstick all over mr. mac's face!"

faye could only smile at the sight, "i can't wait to officiate the wedding."

mareli giggles softly, "only if i can be the flower girl."

WHAT! IS! UP!

hi guys hi guys hi guys THIS TOOK ME FOREVER AND I AM SO SORRY TO KEEP YALL WAITING i hope this was worth it and i appreciate yall sticking around :>

less than two weeks till #DoThatAgain how are we FEELING

oh btw ur girl graduated life is sooooo goooooooooooood

ALSO???? I HIT 100 FOLLOWERS???? ARE YOU GUYS CRAZY

thank you to the request who i took all my inspiration from pls feel proud about yourself being promoted into a plot important chapter

i think after this i might start another au, i don't know yet but i hope you will like it too

give me all the feedback!!!! i lava u guys sosososo much<3

lovelies: @camouflagedinglitter @landosnosescars @underurmoonlight @unicorngrl111 @maisieb23 @sweet06tart @hficoabb@joeylikesspn @bag-a-baddie

the end-of-year assembly was universally hated by staff and students alike.

for the students, it meant sitting in a dark auditorium for nearly two hours while teachers . for the teachers, it meant “surveillance duty”, which was a polished way of saying stand in the shadows and make sure nobody acts a fool.

and because the universe apparently found your suffering funny, your principal had decided the two “new teachers with the most energy” should cover the back center aisle together. you found this out approximately seven minutes ago.

you were still angry about it. not because of malcolm.

well. mostly because of malcolm.

the almost kiss from three weeks ago had been haunting you in increasingly inconvenient ways. at first everything was normal, as normal as it could be between to friends who almost risked said friendship.

but you could feel it. you could feel it in the way you would second guess every interaction with "am i over stepping? am i over staying my time in his life?". he could feel it in the way you wouldn't allow yourself to keep eye contact with him.

then came avoidance. malcolm really didn't want to push any of your boundaries. he didn't want to be somewhere he wasnt wanted. for the sake of your comfort. no more lunch visits. no more “accidentally” stopping by the music room to borrow tape you definitely already had. no more coffee runs where one of you always forgot your wallet and the other paid with a grin.

and god, it was ridiculous.

you had gone from spending nearly every free moment with him to speaking in awkward, painfully professional snippets.

“morning, malcolm” “good morning.” “nice lesson?” “yes.” “good.”

you wanted to scream every time

and now you were standing beside him in the back of a dark auditorium while the principal went on his never-ending tangent about how proud he was of the students. you folded your arms, building a shield up without realizing. malcolm shifted beside you uncomfortably. the silence between you two felt louder than the students.

malcolm cleared his throat.

"you switched perfumes." you turn your head sharply while his stayed stayed on the crowd. like he didn't realize he had said it out loud.

"what?" "your perfume. it's...different."

your stomach flipped before you could even comprehend, and he finally turned to look at you. his face was calm, while your eyebrows furrowed so badly it felt like they might be stuck that way.

"why do you know that?" he shrugged, to casual about this. "i notice things."

you scoffed, "creep."

he only kept looking at you. "i prefer attentive."

you rolled your eyes in annoyance, but your lips betrayed you as they lifted with a smile. "i think that's the first time you smiled at me in weeks."

your smile vanished as quick as it had appeared, "that's not true."

"it is."

you slowly turned your gaze back to the crowd as you swallowed down the lump in your throat.

the lights in the auditorium washed the stagein soft blues and purples. the students in the front rows were lit enough to be seen, but the back where you stood was dim. just enough darkness to make everything feel more intimate than it should.

you hated that. you also hated how your pulse had sped up. you hated that he smelled like home and the cologne he only wears on mondays and special occasions. except it's a friday, and this isn't a special occasion.

"your door was locked during lunch yesterday.", malcolm said. "i was busy."

he shakes his head softly, almost in disbelief.

"it's never locked."

your arms wrap around yourself tighter, trying to convince yourself this convince yourself this conversation wasnt really happening.

"malcolm, i-"

he turned his body to look at you completely. the dim light caught the edges of his face; his cheekbones, the slope of his nose, the tired circles under his eyes from too many writing sessions after grading. theres a desperation lingering in his eyes.

why did he have to look at you like that?

you stammered, but continued on, "you don't get to act confused."

"i'm not acting confused." he whispered back. "we almost kissed, and then you just left."

the volume of your whispers were raising at a concerning speed. "i said i would come back, and i did."

you scoffed, almost offended, "two fucking days later."

"i was trying to respect your space." "malcolm, you vanished."

he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. "you were the one who stopped me."

that comment landed. because he was right. it was your hand on his chest, your panicked voice asking 'what are we doing, malcolm?'. at the time it felt necessary. but now? it felt cowardly.

"i know." you closed your eyes at your admission. his shoulders softened slightly.

meanwhile, a group of kids shuffled past the both of you, whispering too loudly, "look, its their first argument as a couple."

their giggling was interrupted as you sternly told them to find their seats, they scattered.

malcolm laughed seeing the authority you definitely don't have. "well now they think we're dating."

you look back to malcolm, "they think we're dating because you always call me honey in public.

"it's okay. you like it."

you opened your mouth. you closed your mouth. he smirked, too pleased with himself.

"i didn't leave for those two days because i didn't want to see you.", his voice was low enough so that only you could hear, "i left because i knew if i saw you any time sooner, i wouldn't have been able to stop myself from kissing you,"

your breath caught, he kept going. "and that fucking terrified me."

you could still hear it, the principal announcing “thank you for being in attendance,” the clapping, the squeak of shoes on stage, but it all faded behind the sound of your own heartbeat.

"i thought maybe i'd misread this."

he looked at you confused, "misread what?"

"us. the tension, whatever signals we had been sending each other." "baby, i promise you, if you want me as badly as i want you, the you didn't misread anything."

it's like everything clicked back into place for you. because here he was, malcolm, your malcolm. the awkward, cocky, weirdly earnest man memorized your coffee order the first time you met just because you said that you liked it. the man who had helped you hang student artwork until seven-thirty on a thursday. the man who once spent twenty minutes pretending to understand abstract pottery just because it made you laugh.

you missed him, so so so much.

and he missed you too.

the main lights of the auditorium turned on, immediately illuminating the entire room. the private moment over, but its effects clearly lasting.

you made the first move.

"i have so many projects to grade after school. maybe...you could keep me company while i do so?"

his smile only grew, and he knew he couldn't miss his opportunity to just exist alongside you again. "yeah, i'll be there."

"i'll make sure to keep the door unlocked then." you rock back and forth from your heels to your tiptoes almost nervously.

"thank you, honey."

the sea of kids ready for dismissal immediately swept you two up, and you could no longer see him anywhere, but it's okay. your cheeks still burned and your arms were relaxed at your sides, the imaginary wall had been broken down.

and this time, you're ready for more.

EXTRA

faye and mareli walk side by side as they make their journey to leave school

"look at mr. mac." faye says, while elbowing her friend.

faye turns to see an entirely too enthusiastic malcolm hurriedly leading kids to the gate, his smile wider than it has ever been.

faye could only laugh at the man, "yeah, they totally made up."

series masterlist

holy chetos guys it's finally DONE yo no shade this took me a week to write I HOPE IT'S GOOD

im so sos soosososososo sorry for the wait life genuinely got too busy and i also graduate in a MF WEEK LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOO get me out of here

anyways did you guys see the tracklist im deadass gonna go crazy i need the album by YESTERDAY im so excited can he drop tour dates next

lmk if this is straight ass ill delete my account

also, after this, ILL BE FULFILLING REQUESTS so if you sent me one fret not it will be getting it's flowers!!

you guys are crazy thank you guys so much for the love on this au i lava u with all my heart te quiero muchos mis amores yall rock my world

lovelies: @camouflagedinglitter @landosnosescars @underurmoonlight @unicorngrl111 @maisieb23 @sweet06tart @hficoabb @joeylikesspn @bag-a-baddie

you're moving swiftly across your classroom, humming softly to the music you had playing quietly in the background as you weave in-between tables. your hands quickly fill with the paint brushes you had been gathering to wash. making your way to the sink, you hear a familiar rhythmic knock against the door. you shake your head as you smile. "come in!", you say over the music.

malcolm walks in with that familiar smirk and his arms swinging confidently at his sides with every step. you don't miss is the way he leans in a bit too close for casual as he finally reaches you. he waits for you to start the conversation. he always does.

"hi, malcolm", comes out almost breathlessly

his smile only grows, "hi, honey"

rolling your eyes, you spin back to the sink and focus on the task at hand. turning on the faucet so a soft stream of water can start. you look down at the brushes, trying to figure out which ones to wash first. malcolm looks at you.

"anything i can help with?" he asks, his eyes never faltering from you. you stop yourself before you grab a brush, and look back at him. "yes actually," you nod like you're about to say something monumental, "can you bring me all the pallets so i can rinse them off too?"

he dramatically stands up straight, his face looking very serious. "yes ma'am, right on it ma'am!"

he immediately starts walking around the classroom, gathering the palates quickly, his long legs making the journey fast. "you are such a dork, you know that right? it's important that you know that." your words slightly broken up as you laugh.

he reaches you in a record breaking speed, arms full of dirty palates. he drops the off in the sink with a splash, "i just think you bring that side of me out. im pretty chill when you think about it."

"i don't think ive ever seen you be chill in the history of...ever." "now you're being dramatic."

you turn the faucet back on, trying to finally finish cleaning everything off. the stubborn paint clings to your hands.

malcolm returns to his previous position, but gets closer with each passing second. you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. were his hands just as warm? your breath hitches at the thought, only slightly. but, he was ever the observer.

"you alright?" he asks, voice low from the short distance. you don't risk looking at him, "im perfect, malcolm."

his eyebrows twitch, it's obvious he's thinking. his silence is loud. his presence is loud, he is loud. "i know you are."

you softly place down the brushes you had begun to wash, and turn your head towards him slightly without looking at him. the water was a steady flow in the background, the only thing breaking the tension.

his hand reaches you, holding the side of your face softly. he redirects you to face him completely. he doesn't miss the way you nearly melt in his palm. he looks different, the usual smug smile gone and replaced with a seriousness that shows he cares.

your jaw clenches and your eyebrows furrow as your eyes finally lock onto his. you can see the desperation in him, how he's holding himself back from something that would change everything.

"malcolm." "i know."

slowly, he closes the distance between you two. you can feel his breath ghost over your lips as your own air gets trapped in your lungs. he pauses right before he can attach himself to you, as if he was giving you time to think. maybe that was the mistake. he's so, so close. and you've been waiting for this for months now.

and yet, you place a hand softly on his chest. not pushing, just stopping him from going any further. you look at your hand, almost confused by your own actions. you look back up to him when he softly says your name.

"what are we doing, malcolm?

he moves the palm that had been cradling your face and holds your hand that is now curled into his shirt. he shakes his head softly and huffs out an uncomfortable laugh at the irony.

"i don't- i don't know."

you look at the clock behind him, and there's only 5 more minutes left of lunch. you've accomplished nothing besides ruining maybe the only chance you had at what you've been wanting for what feels like forever.

"class is almost starting, you have to go before any of the students see you." "just let me enjoy this, please." he rests his forehead on yours, and your hand curls tighter into his shirt. he nods, moving your head in rhythm with his own. "yeah, okay, i'll start heading out."

you slowly move your hand off of his chest, only then revealing the paint smudges on his shirt

"oh shit, malcolm! we have to- to wash it out before it stains." your voice cracks in-between the words. you grab the sponge you had been using earlier, suds still as fresh as they could be, and reach over to start wiping malcolm down. he catches your wrist before you could even make contact.

"baby, hey, it's okay. it's a little paint. i'll be okay." your eyes tear up, and you feel unable hold in any emotion that has whiplashed you all too quickly.

"i'm sorry, malcolm. fuck, im ruining everything. it's not you, i swear, i don't know what i'm thinking," your words are coming out too quickly, overlapping one another and malcolm can barely understand your ranting. he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you in close. muffled, your speech slows down as you take a deep breath trying to ground yourself. as soon as you're quiet, malcolm pulls back and holds your face to look up at him.

"there's nothing to apologize for, i promise. i have to go, but i'll be back. you know i'll come back, yeah?"

you nod softly, a pout settled on your lips.

"good." he kisses your forehead softly, lingering for just a second too long. he reluctantly releases you, and makes his way towards the door of your classroom.

right before he walks out, he gives you one final nod. you nod back. he leaves before he can see the smile that rises on your lips.

he'll be back.

EXTRA

faye elbows mareli and silently points at malcolm walking out of your classroom. she scoffs, "likely place he would be..."

mareli can only laugh at the girl. "look, the paint on his shirt. is it a handprint. on his CHEST?"

"well shit. do they know we're too young to be aunties?? they can't have kids in this economy-"

"shut up, faye."

series masterlist

hey guys....

did u guys think it was gonna be angsty i hope not it was a surprise but also i might be bad a writing angst so #lmk

okay i wont lie this shit was supposed to be out like 2 nights ago but damn is it finals season im sick and TIRED. and i graduate in 3 weeks. like to the dot. been stressed and not blessed lately it is so joever

is this horrible guys lmk ill delete it asap

also HI HI HI all the motion on everything lately i crazy i lava u all

also damn how many times am i gonna say also DO THAT AGAIN OUT JUNE 5TH WHOOOO IS READY I AM I AM i better cop some tickets brodee

him covering phoebe is so dear to me.

should i make a masterlist of this or is it too early for that

one more also, please send in requests of scenarios we might wanna see our duo in! a girl can only think so many thoughts a day </3 and i would love your guys' input!!! i hope i didnt disappoint i really hope you enjoy :3

lovelies: @camouflagedinglitter @landosnosescars @underurmoonlight @unicorngrl111 @maisieb23 @sweet06tart @hficoabb