#I almost get mad sometimes about not being able to just upload a picture of sans undertale or something and have people draw him

[kjzx]

I love artfight in the sense I love drawing stuff for people and making them happy but every time I think about having to upload my characters it makes me unnerved to a degree I don't even want af to happen. I wish I could just add fandom characters. It would literally make it instantly the perfect art challenge, with the little attention some characters tend to get.

I like this one character of mine and because the way I made her is tied to a currently dormant interest of mine (and also because quite a few people drew her already and seem to like her), when it comes to making other characters or making any kind of reasonable ref sheets for them I just dread the event.

[fyeah-bangtan7]

V: “I have a desire to perfect one cool thing about myself”

As he’s being interviewed, V speaks his mind at a relaxed pace. But there was one moment where he kept on speaking without taking a breath. Look for that moment in the interview below. You listen to a lot of old music on vinyl. Has any particular artist’s music excited you since your last interview with Weverse Magazine? V: I was listening to Louis Armstrong’s music again. And I picked up some albums with a pretty jacket that’s also got a lot of really good hits on it.

How do you feel when you’re listening to those classics? V: I feel like I’m beginning to relax a bit. If I listen to a song when I’m feeling depressed and then really get thinking, the things that are frustrating me disappear, and I can feel myself becoming more peaceful. And it makes me picture things in my head. For example, some songs might make me think of seeing something in front of me while walking down the road somewhere at night when I listen to them. I think setting the mood for listeners is the most important thing. The mood will presumably be different for everyone, but for me, those songs are the ones that are good at setting a really beautiful mood in the moment.

You said that you got inspiration from artists of the past like Sammy Davis Jr. for your performance in “Dynamite.” Was there any artist who inspired you for “Butter”? V: Well, there was Billy Joel. When I shoot a music video, I think of a movie more than any one artist. And when I perform on stage, for some songs I think of the way movies like Reservoir Dogs look. For “Butter,” I watched a lot of teen movies. And musicals. After that I randomly ended up seeing a video on YouTube of some scenes from an old teen movie Johnny Depp did [which turned out to be the movie Cry-Baby]. The image I got from that was really intense. That’s the look I used in “Butter.”

“Butter” felt like a teen musical to me and now I know why. V: I did it like a teen musical, just like you say. When we shot the “Butter” music video, I really, really tried to shoot the part in the elevator so it would feel like a teen movie. Although a lot of takes were edited, so not all of it’s there. (laughs)

What kind of feeling do you get from that kind of teen movie that you find so charming? V: For me, teen movies show a youthfulness that’s appropriate for the age. I think there’s an appropriate mix of emotion, energy, and a completely different and peculiar mood that everyone necessarily experiences at that age. If you watch teen movies, they’re overflowing with energy and full of sunny emotion, but behind it all they’re not as bright as they seem. They are really bright, but the color itself almost feels like some kind of filter. They feel like they have a different filter than other movies, so I tried thinking of teen movies when we shot the music video and put on performances.

That teen movie feeling seems to be divided in two between “Butter” and “Permission to Dance.” By the looks of the thumbnails for the fancam focus videos uploaded to the BANGTANTV YouTube channel, “Butter” seems to showcase a really cool character, while “Permission to Dance” is more teenagers smiling brightly for children. V: The teen movie vibe in “Butter” and “Permission to Dance” are different from one another. We showed the sunny image people usually think of when they think of teen movies in “Permission to Dance.”

Do you think that going with the teen movie vibe influenced your vocals to be the new style that you used? In “Butter,” you still had your signature vocals but without the deep notes, giving them a new feeling. V: That’s because, when we’re given a concept, we have to come up with vocals that fit with the concept. I think my singing style matched up with the concept, so I feel relatively satisfied. There was nothing majorly difficult about actually changing the style itself, since unlike changing your voice, you only have to change your vocal technique. Having said that, even though the notes in “Butter” were high for me, I still hit them! (laughs)

I guess hitting the high notes was your assignment this time around as a vocalist. V: I’ve been working a long time to make up for my weak points. For example, I thought I was weak when it comes to high notes because I sing low parts a lot and I tend to sing in a flowing way. But I had trouble when we were recording “Dynamite” and I had to sing the high notes during the chorus. I got so mad (laughs) so I practiced a lot.

How does it feel to see the results you’re seeing with “Butter” now after all that effort? V: I’m just trying not to rest on my laurels. Like instead of savoring the feeling, I feel like I should go to bed early for everything I have to do the next day? Getting back in tiptop shape quickly is what’s important, so I haven’t really had time to bask in the joy very much. I’m just working hard at the work I had like I always do.In your 

New Year’s greeting on YouTube, you said you regretted not being able to put on the show for ARMY you wanted, and that your 2021 resolution is to “follow my own pace and pattern” when you work on music. Do you think your personal pace and your professional pace are in step this year? V: No. [My professional pace is] fast, so fast. (laughs) We have a lot we have to get ready for since we’re always promoting. It can be challenging sometimes, but in a way, I think it’s also given me a good opportunity to become a little stronger.

I imagine it’s meaningful to do the work for your own songs, because you can slip into your own world. You also made “Blue & Grey” when you were having a hard time, and it consequently became a song that allowed you to empathize with many people and vice versa. Looking back now, what kind of song do you think “Blue & Grey” will be remembered as? V: I think with “Blue & Grey” I just wanted the song to let people know how I was feeling, and how we were feeling, at that time a little better. Obviously everyone was having a hard time, but I think I wanted to share those emotions with ARMY as-is, including the pains we went through in our growth process. And, to put it another way, I think I just felt like making it obvious. (laughs) I thought it was okay to be that obvious, seeing as I couldn’t put those feelings into words. I just hope people could understand how I was feeling; it’s okay if it becomes forgotten later on.

In the “BE-hind Story” interview on YouTube, you talked about the first line of “Blue & Grey”: “Where is my angel?” You explained how, when you have any kind of issue, you close your eyes and wish for your angel to come and think. Are there times when it seems like your angel understands your feelings, as you just mentioned? V: I get a ton of answers by doing it. I’m not religious, but whenever I have some kind of issue, I close my eyes and think about it. Is this right, the way I’m thinking about this, or not? They’re just yes or no questions, like, Does my outfit look good today? Instead of just worrying about what you should do, if you tackle it in the form of a question, you  get a response with the answer.

I guess it could work when you’re looking for inspiration in your life, but what about for your music? In your previous Weverse Magazine interview, you said you make a note whenever you feel something. V: I write in my diary in hopes that it’ll help with writing lyrics and so I don’t forget those feelings. I do it constantly—I open up my diary whenever something comes up. I copy melodies that pop up in my mind, lyrics, and other things from my diary to my notes app temporarily, and when I’m taking a break or I get the urge to work, I open my notes and say, Let’s try this out today, and run over to the studio.

You released “Snow Flower,” featuring Peakboy by V, on Christmas Day. Is that another song you ran to the studio to work on after the feeling came to you? V: For that song, when I was drinking with some older musicians, we were talking about doing a song together, and then we were like, Well, do you think we’ll have time to do that? So we decided to do it right then since everyone was available. My mixtape was delayed, so I at least wanted to play a different song for ARMY, and I thought, since I’m a bit tipsy (laughs) I thought I should try writing something. So I made the song really quickly. In maybe three hours.

Even though you made it quickly, the composition is somewhat complex and it has the same unique atmosphere that “Blue & Grey” did. V: There’s times when I’m, like, in the zone (laughs) and can make a song all in one sitting, but when I’m not feeling it, I end up revising it more and more. And I don’t want the composition to be too obvious, so I try to change up the way the melody flows. With that kind of sharp image coming to you almost immediately, what were you imagining for that song? V: You might think “Snow Flower” is about a type of snowflake, but I was actually thinking about snow and flowers separately. I started hoping that flowers wouldn’t wither away and just keep on blooming on snowy days. But in reality, when it snowed, all the flowers were crushed, the world became blanketed in snow, and I felt like the flower buds turned into snow flowers. I wrote that song about how I felt after watching that happen.

It must be important to feel things intuitively when you’re trying to express yourself through song. V: If it sounds pretty to me: approved. (laughs)

On the other hand, as a member of BTS, you have a job where you have to deal with a packed schedule and keep various situations in mind. How does that make you feel? When you celebrated your Billboard Hot 100 win on V LIVE and the topic of your clothes came up, you joked that you wore them to give off an idol vibe. V: It’s fun. It’s fun, but I could also say it’s hard. The performances are fun. I think idols should shine in a way that’s suitable for their age, and it’s important to do lots of things for fans like ARMY. Not just performances, but also posting pictures, having conversations on social media, making content. We’re artists and idols, so we think each and every one of those things is important. That sentiment won’t change just because we’ve achieved so much success.

You recently held an impromptu event on Weverse for ARMY. V: I’m sure there’s lots of ARMY out there who are tired of not being able to see us in person. But since the only thing we can do for them is to be on stage and stuff, I was worried that we’re not doing enough for them. And I love being able to talk with ARMY so much that now it’s like a habit that I read their posts. I have a thing today. I have a test today. I’m moving today. Somehow I feel better when I hear their stories. When I end up reading things like about how ARMY are living or what kind of lives ARMY have, I can’t help but write a response, and because of that ARMY respond, so I try to become friendlier in a more fun way, too. I want us to be more than the Billboard number one Bangtanies—I want to be ARMY’s partner, their best friend, the friend who’s always by their side when we’re not on stage. It feels like business when I talk about communicating with ARMY. (laughs) I just want to talk with a close friend. I wanna talk with a close friend—that’s exactly how I feel. It’s been a long time since I could see my friend, ARMY. Usually when friends can’t see each other they keep in touch all the time. I can talk about all kinds of things like that with ARMY thanks to the Weverse platform, and because I can hear all about their lives, I think I was able to go on Weverse and hold that kind of event.

You’ve been talking about ARMY nonstop for a few minutes. I was going to ask you how you feel about ARMY, but I think you already answered the question. (laughs) V: They’re just, well, friends I would hate to lose. Friends who seriously give me strength whenever they’re around. Sometimes you find friends like that in life. It’s like that with the other members, and I have other friends who I can share my feelings with. And I have ARMY. So I can’t help but do whatever I can do to make those people smile and make them feel happy.

Well then, is there a song you’ve heard that you want to let ARMY know about? A song that shares your feelings. V: Umm, recently … “No. 1 Party Anthem” by Arctic Monkeys. When I hear that song … I get emotional, somehow. I don’t usually listen to a lot of rock music, but I can instantly feel the band’s emotions with that song. I seriously get goosebumps listening to it, and emotional, and just all kinds of feelings. It’s to the point that, as soon as I hear that song, I think about how I really want to live well.

That song really means a lot to you. V: Actually, I don’t really know what’s up with that song. I don’t even know the lyrics, but I’m quite clear on what sort of emotions the melody and the band’s performance give me.

Don’t you feel like that’s an emotion you want to express to people, as an artist? Like you don’t have to explain your messages in detail? V: I don’t know. I just want to exchange the good, and be the one to embrace the bad. So I have a desire to perfect one cool thing about myself.

So how close do you think you are right now to becoming an artist who has perfected something cool? V: I’ll say 2%. It’ll go up someday later. (laughs)

© source

[necropxlis]

That’s My Girl (Kenma x Reader)

A/N: The reader is female. This was based off of something that happened to me while playing a game with someone. So I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1,785

Tagging: @missingmystogan​

“Just cap the point I have my super! PLEASE! UGGGHHHH.”

Dropping the controller, you leaned back in the gaming chair Kenma bought for you. Back when he first introduced you to all of his viewers on Youtube and Twitch, it seemed the content you both made was highly demanded. So with the idea set in stone, he bought you a whole new setup and turned the spare bedroom into your gaming studio (with Kenma’s being right beside yours because of easy access.)

The two of you thought today would be a great day to do a little recording for Youtube and just hang out and have some fun. However, your competitive side was showing, and with the fact that every game you have played so far ended in you taking that L, just started to push your buttons. Kenma noticed you were getting frustrated with your losing streak and the bad reputation of picking up horrible teammates. The silence in the lobby party was deafening, trying to decide if one more game was worth your sanity or not. For heavens sakes, you just lost a game that could have turned around if someone just put their foot on the capture point.

“One more game.” Kenma’s voice echoed through the headset.

You sighed, “Babe, I don’t know if I can handle another game right now.”

“Just one more game,” Kenma laughed picturing the glare you were probably giving him through the walls, “let’s do a 2v2 and if we end up losing then we will call it a day. I’ll scrap all the footage and we can just cuddle and watch anime all night. Does that sound like a deal?”

You thought about it for a second. The thought of actually just throwing the game was tempting. Knowing your boyfriend, even if you did win the game, he would still give you all the affection you desired.

“Alright. One more game. Only if we can have takeout.”

Kenma laughed at your request but agreed knowing that you would eventually have your way. With a newfound spirit, you launched the 2v2 match. The stakes were high. Food was on the line. Your mental health was on the line. Even the sake of Kenma’s YouTube video was on the line. You had to bring your A-game. The game finally loaded in with two other random players on the opposite team. For a while, the game was pretty even. Your team would win a round and the opposite team would win the next one.

It was now match point, the opposite team had two wins and your team had two wins. Whoever could capture the point or make the other team run out of lives takes home the gold. Your hands were starting to get sweaty. This was the moment your pride was riding on (not only your pride but your sanity as well.) Inhaling sharply you focused on the task at hand, getting the team down on lives. You pushed the stick on the controller to make your character walk around the corner of a building. One of the enemy players was focusing on killing Kenma, so you lit them up with a magazine, successfully killing the enemy. Only, for the other teammate to get its revenge by sniping you.

“I am this close to breaking my controller.” You said gritting your teeth.

“The game is almost over, baby. We can do this.”

Kenma had so much hope in you. A swirl of happiness began to blossom inside of you. The praise only fueled your motivation to win this game. The game went on for a while longer, both sides equally pulling your life count down to 1 life per team. The game was getting annoyed at how slow both teams were taking, so it placed the capture point in the middle of the map. You had just respawned back into the game when Kenma died again. He groaned in frustration as he tried to round the corner to capture the point, but both players on the opposite team used their supers on him. A smirk made its way onto your face as you thought of a grandmaster plan. Kenma took the same route to the capture point, while you decided to use the flank.

Running up the middle of the map, Kenma was shot down before he even got near the point. There was no way you could take on both players without getting double-teamed and if you died, that was it you had no more lives. You hid around the corner, being able to see the players on the point, but them not being able to see you.

“Kenma, run up the middle again.”

“Baby, we could lose it here.” Kenma said exasperated.

You scoffed and let out a little chuckle, “Just trust me. When they start shooting at you, dodge and hide behind a pillar. I got this.”

Kenma, although a little worried, trusted you and followed through with your plan. He followed his same path and ran towards the point. He began to fire on the team 1 on 2. The team was completely unaware of you sneaking behind them. The reason for your master plan was due to your super being so closed to being charged. Kenma was a little early so you began to panic. You couldn’t let him die. If he died there was no way you would be able to win. The team still didn't notice your presence.

“Whatever you're gonna do, Y/N, do it now!” Kenma said.

Kenma’s character dodged behind a pillar and you knew now was your chance. You made your character jump in the air and popped your super. The super you had equipped was a giant laser beam that was way too overpowered at times. This was one of those times. The enemy team turned around, but it was too late for them to do anything about the giant blue laser. You slaughtered both teammates in one shot and landed on the capture point when your super subsided. Nothing hit you yet, you were too “in the zone.”

“Holy shit, that's my girl.” He said laughing and running onto the capture point with you.

The other team, having had both players die, had no more lives left. There were only 20 seconds left in the game and it was looking to be in your favor. However, no matter how happy you both were, you still had a chance to lose. Turning around the corner the 2 players on the opposite team were heading your way. You both held them off as much as you could until the game stopped. You and Kenma had captured the point and ultimately won the game. You began to laugh. Somehow, miraculously, you managed to kill the losing streak. Kenma was silent for a minute. Then out of nowhere, he began to laugh as well. The both of you are just absolutely shocked over what just happened. You heard some rustling over on your boyfriends' end, but you were too busy laughing to notice. The door to your room opened showing your boyfriend with a stunned expression. You took your headset off and threw your arms in the air signaling your victory. Kenma smirked, running over to you and engulfing you in a huge hug. The both of you a giggling mess. Your boyfriend tilted his head and smothered your face in kisses.

You squealed and tried pushing away from him only for him to chase your lips. Capturing you in a sweet and loving kiss. His lips were soft against yours, every movement took your breath away. Slowly parting from the pudding-haired man, a smile spread across both of your faces. Kenma chuckled and brushed a bit of hair behind your ear.

“That was so badass.” He said cupping your cheeks.

“I am badass.” You said smirking.

Kenma laughed and kissed your nose before letting you go. He walked to the doorway, turning back to look at you with so much love in those golden cat-like eyes. You giggled and threw your peach stress ball, that you had resting on your desk, at him. He quickly ran out the door and back to his office. Laughing, you put your headset back on and made sure you could still hear everything. There was more rustling on the other end, signaling you that your partner was back.

“You know I was recording all of that?”

“If you delete any of that I will murder you.” You said smirking.

Kenma doubled over laughed and agreed that he wouldn’t delete the footage. What you didn’t know, was that he had turned the camera on in your room before you got in there. A couple of days passed before Kenma uploaded the video to YouTube. Being the supportive person that you are, you watched the video. Unbeknownst to you, the entire interaction began to play across your screen. Part of you wanted to hide out of embarrassment; but seeing how the comment section gave you both nothing but love and support, you couldn’t help but love your geek of a boyfriend even more. Even if he was a sly little devil sometimes. 

Extra: (That same night.) After paying for your take out, you cuddled up next to your boyfriend with your favorite anime playing on the big tv in the living room. Kenma smiled wrapping his arms around you and placing a quick kiss to your cheek. You smiled and continued eating your take out.

“You know, I was scared there for a moment. Didn't think your plan would work.” He said turning back towards the tv.

You stopped eating and stared at the man, “You had no faith in me?!”

Kenma shrugged as a smirk tugged at his lips. You scoffed and gathered your food, quickly walking to your bedroom and locking the door behind you. Your boyfriend was right on your heels but a second too slow. 

“Come on, Y/N. I was just kidding. Please open up, baby.”

“No. No cuddles for you.”

Kenma sighed and tried not to laugh at you adorable temper tantrum. No matter how much he apologized for picking on you, he ended up having to sleep on the couch that night.

The next morning he woke by the smell of eggs and pancakes. Opening his eyes, there was a tray with breakfast on it. Beside the plate of food there was a little card with his name on it. Picking up the card he noticed your adorable handwriting.

“Sorry for getting mad at you. Can I have cuddles? - Y/N”

Kenma laughed and got up to make his way to you. After all you were his girl.

[wherevermyway]

the FiVE:RACHA project (1/7) // black mirror AU // 18+

chapter one: freedom series navigation: [desktop] [mobile]

⚠ POTENTIAL TW: READ WITH CAUTION! ⚠ pairings: lee minho x kim seungmin | hwang hyunjin x lee felix x yang jeongin | bang chan x seo changbin x han jisung rating: explicit! 18+ warnings/tags: creator chose not to use archive warnings, descent into madness, horror, thriller, technological implants, blood and gore, alcohol abuse, some sexual content in later chapters but it’s not, like, smut. word count: 3,101 also on AO3

PS: i made a carrd for this. check it out if you’re interested!

originally posted: 26 december 2020

Several years ago, five men created a website for South Korea's international rap sensation, 3RACHA. The website, The FiVE:RACHA Project, was almost as popular as the group themselves. About two years after the website went live, FiVE:RACHA had the opportunity to meet 3RACHA.

Immediately after they meet, the members of FiVE:RACHA and 3RACHA go missing. The FiVE:RACHA Project website is down. Their Twitter account has been deactivated, and 3RACHA stops posting. A few months after their meetup, it was announced that 3RACHA had disbanded. Nobody knows what happened to either group.

Nobody knows, until now.

For some, modern day fame comes at a price that is too high to pay.

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction! any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are  interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do  not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of  the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable,  please stop reading now.

// note: with other darker stuff i post, i’m not totally sure i’ll post the entirety of this fic on tumblr. if not, i’ll do a little notice post for people interested to keep following it on AO3.

...Do you wish to proceed? To learn the truth of FiVE:RACHA and 3RACHA?

What is the true price of fame?

A Foreword:

Several years ago, there was a fan site, The FiVE:RACHA Project, dedicated to South Korea’s most famous rap group, 3RACHA. One day, it went down without notice. The site, as well as their Twitter account with over four million followers, was almost as well-known as the rap group itself.

3RACHA mysteriously disbanded several months after FiVE:RACHA went down. Nobody has seen or heard from the members of either group since the disbandment. There are several theories and myths surrounding the disappearances of both groups, but most of them are incorrect.

Be aware that, no, FiVE:RACHA did not go down because the site moderators were bored of 3RACHA. No, 3RACHA did not disband because Supreme Entertainment was about to collapse due to widespread fraud and their political scandals within the Korean government.

The stories of FiVE:RACHA and 3RACHA are very much deeply intertwined within each other, and the truth is uncomfortable to witness.

This novel’s authors, comprised of some of the most loyal fans of both groups, will remain anonymous and stay in hiding due to fear of being caught by the one responsible for the disappearances. An individual outside of our group found a Shinyu of someone involved in this, someone discarded in the Han River many years ago. How the implant survived with no living host for so long is beyond remarkable.

In case the Shinyu is defunct or replaced by the time you’re reading this, allow us to explain. The name comes from “close friend” in Japanese, likely as a play on words for how close the implant gets to its host, both physically and socially. The Shinyu was created in Tokyo in 2025; it is a small technological implant embedded under the skin of the right side of everyone’s temples.

Everyone has one placed at thirteen, and it encodes all of our visual, tactile, and auditory data, syncing it to our phones and uploading it to personal servers in the cloud. The data is encrypted, and requires access from both the Shinyu and the phone to decipher. It allows us to integrate technology into our daily lives, records our memories and important moments, but there is a price we all pay for this. Critics have been outspoken about this since its inception, but the governments never listened.

Alas, we digress. The Shinyu is vital to uncovering so much information that has been hidden and speculated on after all this time. Regardless of our personal opinions regarding the ethics of the device, we are grateful that we were able to obtain one of the implants. It has been vital to connect a lot of the missing pieces of the greater picture.

The authors have spent years decoding the information from this implant. Thanks to an anonymous source, we were able to obtain the personal computer of someone in FiVE:RACHA, personal cell phones of both groups, access to the database of Supreme Entertainment and its defunct myIdol data, some declassified legal information, and archives of both FiVE:RACHA and 3RACHA’s Twitter accounts.

Why have we chosen to extrapolate all of this data in the form of a novel? Perhaps we would like it to serve as a modern day parable for the plights of technology being so intricately interwoven between us all now. We, as humans, are now one with technology. Technology is literally embedded into us. It is astounding that technology allows us to interact so closely with famed idols now, beyond some barriers that critics have denounced for being inappropriate or unhealthy.

Some of us may pay the ultimate price for this.

Some of us, unfortunately, already have.

However interconnected we are with technology and how close we can get to those of which we idolize in society, though, humans will still crave entertainment. That is why this was written almost as a work of fiction. Those that pay attention to the story will be rewarded. Maybe not immediately, and maybe only after self-reflection, but readers will be rewarded. That much can be promised.

Above all else, we cannot stress enough that modern day fame and convenience comes at a price that is too high for some to pay. Stay safe, err on the side of caution. Disconnect from your Shinyu if you choose to proceed any further, because you never know who is watching.

— Curators of The FiVE:RACHA Project

One: Freedom

Nobody really knows who exactly manages FiVE:RACHA, just that it’s a group of five fans that run a fansite for the popular rap group 3RACHA. Their website is the most well-known and widely used out of the millions of fans that are out there. It always has live updates for the members: Bang Chan, Seo Changbin, and Han Jisung. There are daily paparazzi photos of at least one of them slapped up on the front page, embedded social media posts from each of the members updated as soon as they post, and hard-to-find facts about each of them.

Hell, one of the FiVE:RACHA members went through and coded up a section of the site dedicated to decoding natal charts for each of the members. Again, like most things about FiVE:RACHA, the source of this information was a mystery. Nobody’s sure exactly how they obtained 3RACHA’s birth times and locations. Some had speculated that it happened the same day the government had announced that there was a security breach of some of their databases, because the timing was oddly convenient.

To most casual fans, it sometimes felt really fucking weird to have so much information on idols readily available at their fingertips. However, to 3RACHA’s most dedicated, most obsessed fans, it was perfect. Exactly what they wanted. Their work seemed well-appreciated by the broader community, since the amount of Twitter followers FiVE:RACHA had was comparable to 3RACHA’s following, nearly half of their total count: 4,100,000 to 8,500,000.

There was nothing else that could compare to the controlled insanity that The FiVE:RACHA Project had to offer.

The FiVE:RACHA website was an international sensation, known to most 3RACHA fans, even those that opposed it. There was even a small, but growing, fanbase for the members of FiVE:RACHA, something that was slightly worrisome to them, but they had remained anonymous for so long, they weren’t really overtly concerned over it.

“This article is bullshit, man. ‘Controlled insanity’? None of this is controlled, it’s just insanity.”

Idle hums and trills of various electronics thrum in a dark room. Two young men stare at several computer monitors in a daze, lost in their own worlds as a ticker tape-like feed of coding and statistics flew past them on screen.“Let ‘em talk, dude,” the younger-looking man with blue hair scoots away from his computer and sighs. “Fuckin’ gossip rags. Anyway, I can’t stare at this CSS anymore. I can’t figure out why the embedded feeds are busted. Can you take over on this, Seung?”

The slightly older man with short, shaggy black hair rolls his neck, snapping some joints, not bothering to look away from his screens. “Yeah, yeah,” he stops poring over the article written about them on one screen, tabbing away to another. He cracks the knuckles in his fingers, and waves his hand in the air as he taps a couple of keys on his keyboard. “Go take a break, Jeongin. Hyunjin was looking for you, anyways. Probably got something good from a source of his, since he’s in one of his giddy moods.”

As Seungmin settles into his work, Jeongin chuckles as he stands up and stretches. He takes a couple steps over to the other computer desk and pats the older man on the back. “Thanks, dude,” he says with a smile and walks out of the server room, out into the hallway that leads into the open living room of their flat. The ambient humming of the room stops as he shuts the door, now replaced by the sound of his feet shuffling, the muffled noises echoing against the hardwood floor.

Five men all lived and worked in this large apartment together: Yang Jeongin, Kim Seungmin, Hwang Hyunjin, Lee Felix, and Lee Minho. Collectively, this was where they lived and breathed The FiVE:RACHA Project. Running the largest, most extensive fansite for South Korea’s most famous rap group, 3RACHA, was more than a full-time job. They all equally poured their hearts and souls into maintaining the website and their Twitter account. It proved to be almost too much for five people alone to handle as their shifts sometimes went from twelve hours and bled into sixteen, sometimes twenty-four hour shifts.

Minho, the leader, didn’t trust anyone but the original five to the project, however. Jeongin could hear the oldest man’s airy voice echo in his ears: “I trusted the four of you with this. Now, it’s devolved into something I don’t even recognize. There’s no way anyone deserves to see what we’ve done. Imagine if it got out that we were the ones in charge of this monstrosity?”

Jeongin glided into the kitchen, and pulled his phone out of his back pocket, eyeing the time. 13:36. He had another hour left of his shift, and he was exhausted after yesterday’s all-nighter. 33 hours of work, with only a small nap in between was rough on anyone, and he was starting to feel it, physically. His Shinyu Implant would ping him once every hour that he was very low on sleep, reminding him that it was unhealthy to go without sleep for so long and that he would not be able to drive. As he slinked his way to the fridge, he shoved his phone back into his pocket and yawned. He opened the fridge, the contents in the shelves of the door clattering as they abruptly shifted around.

The first thing he saw was a bottle of unsweetened coffee and, while he knew he shouldn’t drink caffeine within a few hours of hopeful sleep, Jeongin went against his instincts and reached for the bottle anyways. As he opened it, the cracking of the seal reverberated against all of the hard surfaces and sounded much louder than it should have, startling the man awake a bit.

He hated unsweetened coffee, but there was no way he would make it through another hour or so of coding maintenance without it. Jeongin polished off the entire bottle within seconds, grimacing in disgust the entire time. He tapped his right temple twice, and grumbled. “Set reminder, after work: grocery shopping. Have Hyunjin drive. Add to list: energy drinks. The good kind, none of that berry-flavoured shit.” A very faint, nearly inaudible ding responds after he’s done speaking, and Jeongin moves to discard the bottle into the recycling bin.

“Innie?” Almost as if the devil himself heard Jeongin’s request, a familiar voice rounded the corner of the kitchen. “Oh, good, I thought that was you. Anyway, you won’t believe the content I got from Yeji at Seoul Scoop, dude,” the lanky, beacon-like blond grins wildly at Jeongin, walking into the kitchen. “I actually got a photo of Chan and Changbin looking awfully close at KNECT’s backstage event a couple days ago. Think they were celebrating their recent win a little too hard.”

Hyunjin proudly slaps a grainy photo down on the countertop, where Changbin is sitting in Chan’s lap, arms wrapped around the older man’s neck. Sure, it could easily be explained away as friendly closeness, since everyone knew that all of the guys were very close friends, and the area was cramped. The photo, however, would cause a lot of panic within the community.

Jeongin smirked as he eyed the photo, taking it into his fingers and bringing it up close to his face. “The shippers are going to have a field day over this, you know.”

“I know,” Hyunjin shakes some of his hair out of his face as he arrogantly places a hand on his hip, shifting his weight to one side. “It’ll be great traffic for the site. I’ll have Seungmin put it on the front page later.” He takes a couple of steps closer to Jeongin and pulls the younger man to his chest, stroking his hair down. “I love you, but you look like shit. Why not call it a little early today?”

Jeongin shook his head, burying his nose into the older man’s shoulder, letting his eyes flutter shut with a sigh. “Seungmin and I are trying to fix a string of broken code that’s causing the social media feed to bug out a little bit. Definitely wanna have that fixed before we upload this.”

A clattering of keys startles both of the younger men, causing them to look behind Hyunjin. “Don’t worry about it, Jeongin,” a third voice speaks from the entrance of the kitchen. “Seriously, you worked really hard yesterday, and I’m sure we’ll manage. I’ll be sure to wake up Felix a little earlier and we’ll fix the coding.”

“You’re home early, Minho,” Jeongin chuckles once as he nods. “Figured you’d be stuck in the office for a few more hours.”

“Nah,” Minho dismissively waves his hand in the air as he walks over to the sink, rinsing his hands. “Seungmin called me earlier and said you were nodding off at your desk, asked me to come home early.”

A look of guilt washed over Jeongin’s face. “Shit, my bad.”

“Don’t apologize,” Minho smiles as he towels off his hands. “I appreciate all of the work you did yesterday; completely revamping the social media section was hard. But I can’t have you possibly miscode something and have it break the site because you’re running low on sleep. You’ve started getting pings, haven’t you?”

Jeongin sheepishly nods his head and mumbles an affirmation.

Hyunjin rolls his eyes and elbows the young man in the side. “I thought I told you to take a nap, dude?”

“I did!” Jeongin whines. “It was, like, a half-hour, though.”

Both Hyunjin and Minho roll their eyes at Jeongin. “Get out of here,” Minho scoffs, walking towards the server room. “Go to bed. I don’t wanna see you back in the server room until tomorrow morning.”

Jeongin opens his mouth to protest, but Hyunjin drags him away, up the stairs towards their bedroom. A ping comes from his implant, a transparent box popping up in the lower right-hand corner of his vision. The soft voice of the AI reverberates against his skull, allowing him to hear it as if it were a real voice whispering into his ear. It reads off the notification from his display.

“Movement away from workplace detected. Reminder: grocery shopping later, have Hyunjin drive. Would you like me to pull up your list?”

“No.” A low grumble comes up from Jeongin’s throat as he taps his temple twice to dismiss the notification. “Hyunjin,” he sighs, “we’ve gotta go grocery shopping.”

“You’re too tired,” Hyunjin shakes his finger without turning to look at Jeongin. “The grocery store will still be there tomorrow.”

“I’m out of my energy drinks, though,” the younger man protests.

Hyunjin smiles, opening the door to their bedroom and whispers. “I’ll be sure to get some for you. Go cuddle up with Felix and get some sleep.”

“Hyunjin, I—” Jeongin is cut off as the older man grabs his wrist, pulling him into his chest. They share a brief kiss before Hyunjin guides him into the bedroom.

“Shh, Lixie is sleeping.”

There’s a shuffling that comes from the bedsheets, and a sleepy voice grumbles. “Not anymore.”

“Aw, mornin’, babe,” Hyunjin says with a smile. “Sorry to wake you. Minho’s probably gonna come ask for you in a bit, anyways, though.”

Felix rolls over, sitting upright as he runs his hands through his brassy blond hair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Jeongin sighs as he makes his way over to the bed, bringing an arm up to the blond and wrapping him in a lazy hug as he pulls them down to the bed.

The blond lets out a soft laugh. “Don’t worry about it, man,” he turns his head to face the bluenette and offers him a quick peck on the lips. “I couldn’t sleep much, anyways. Finding out about that myIdol rumour yesterday had my brain going kind of wild.”

“You heard about it too, huh?” Hyunjin says, colliding down onto the bed opposite of Felix. “Someone at Seoul Scoop told me about it this morning. It lets fans connect with their idols, like they’re actually directly messaging them.”

“That’s weird,” the bluenette sleepily grumbles into Felix’s shoulder.

“I think so, too.” Felix says with a frown as he nuzzles his head against Jeongin’s forehead, staring up into the ceiling.

Hyunjin shrugs with indifference. “I dunno, I think it’s pretty interesting.”

Jeongin lifts his head and stares down Hyunjin with a smirk. “You just want to pretend like Changbin cares about you.”

The older blond frowns as he flips off Jeongin. “Like you wouldn’t want Jisung to send you a ‘Have a wonderful day, bestie!’ message?”

The youngest member flops back down onto the bed. “Okay, that’s fair. It’s still weird, though. Seems so artificial and fake, I guess.”

“Well,” Hyunjin sits up, offering a hand out to Felix, “I’ll have more information on it tomorrow, probably. Why don’t you let yourself sleep for a while?” Felix takes the hand offered to him, and both men stand up. “Lixie and I will go out and get some groceries and get you those nasty energy drinks you like so much.”

Jeongin grumbles as he wiggles his way up to the pillows, half-asleep and irritated from the loss of warmth from Felix. “Just not the berry ones, okay?”

“I’ll see what we can do,” Hyunjin says with a smirk before he spins on his heel and walks out of the room. “Love you, Innie!”

“Don’t worry,” Felix leans down to kiss Jeongin’s forehead, “I’ll make sure he doesn’t get the kinds you hate. Let yourself actually sleep, too. We’ll make it all work out, okay?”

Jeongin mutters some sort of incoherent affirmation as he lets his heavy eyelids flutter shut. Seungmin would be able to fix the CSS by himself, he figured, trying not to worry too much about how broken small parts of the site were. He heard Felix say something else as he quickly faded off into sleep, but it didn’t register fully as he sank into the abyss.

There were a lot of sleepless nights ahead of them, whether FiVE:RACHA felt it coming or not.

[yan-twst]

Do you have the time to write a yandere alphabet for Cater Diamond? I feel like he’d make an interesting yandere similar to Sebek. I’d like to specify A, E, J, K, N, T, U but I would be delighted to see more letters! Thank you♦️

warnings: general yandere themes

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Cater is super affectionate! He’s all for hugs and kisses, makeout sessions and more! He’s also super into taking “cute couple pics” with his darling and uploading them to his magicam. Cater’s affections are very intense, and he might get mad if his darling refuses to let him do so; he needs to take the perfect mirror kissing selfie, so they have to stay still, damnit!

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Cater rarely shows his true self to others- is there even such a thing as the “true Cater”? His usual cheery demeanor is still very much there when he’s dealing with his darling, but he’ll also show a more sadistic side; and sometimes, rarely, there’ll be some rare glimpses at a more depressed side of him.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Cater hides his jealousy like it’s nothing- he’s so good it’s almost scary. His darling doesn’t know exactly what makes him jealous; it’s like a silent bomb, Cater acting as if nothing’s wrong until he just blows up. It’s a bit terrifying, but it doesn’t happen often.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Cater is a super caring, but overbearing boyfriend. He’s going to dote on his darling to an almost overwhelming degree- lovebombing them often, getting them on the latest trends, and tons of selfies on his magicam. He’s bound to tire his darling out, but that’s ok! He doesn’t care much if they’re overwhelmed or exhausted.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Being able to make clones of himself is a handy ability. One Cater can hold them back, while another intimidates them; he isn’t too keen on actually hurting them much (he wants to avoid leaving scars or wounds)- still, his sadistic streak shows in how much his words cut at them.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Cater really feels horrible when this happens, but once again, he does his best to not show it. He’ll keep his cheery front even when he’s desperately trying to calm his darling, to get them to talk, to act alive; it seriously breaks his heart to see this. He craves to have a picture perfect relationship, the way he portrays it in his magicam; to see this happening truly makes him miserable, but he’s unwilling to change the way he manages the relationship.

[cutietobio]

HC’s for Ushijima, Bokuto, Kageyama, Nishinoya, & Kuroo with an S/O who fosters kittens / has lots of pets cats. Like sis just can’t seem to say no to an animal in need. How would they react?

Sure, anon! Hope you like it :’) I apologize for the inconsistent length, but I get more ideas for some characters than others at a time.

USHIJIMA

- He’s a dog person (confirmed by my group chat, very reliable source) so he’s used to more energetic pets. He does admit that your cats are very calming, and he finds himself smiling at the sounds of their purrs. All of your cats are drawn to him like a magnet, he doesn’t understand why and he sits with a stoic face, hands on his knees while dozens of cats are rubbing up against his legs, chest and one even found its way upon his head. He would remain as still as possible, hoping they find it comfortable up there.

- He’s not very talkative when playing with your cats, but you see the soft smile which graces his features at the funny antics of your furry friends. It’s all very calming, your favourite moments is during a rainy evening when Ushijima cuddles with you upon your couch and all your kitties join in on the love. (catch me crying in the club rn, your head is resting on his chest, legs intertwined, blanket over the both of you and your cats are scattered everywhere. One is nestled upon your feet, a few on the armrests and on top of the back while a very tiny kitten is curled up on Ushijima’s sternum, underneath his warm hand)

- He would spoil them a lot, bringing over treats and exotic-sounding food. The once he came over with cotton candy flavoured meat treats and you soon realized his obsession with strangely flavoured items. Each week he comes back with something weird and you fear that your cats won't like it but you give it to them anyway, to your surprise, they almost never turn their nose to it, and if they do, Ushijima is able to get them to eat it just by holding it out for them.

BOKUTO

- He’s surprised upon first visiting your home, only to be greeted by seemingly dozens of cats staring back at him. He lets out a sudden noise of excitement, causing all your furry friends to scatter in multiple directions. Yeah, they’re kinda scared of him and yes, Bokuto looks extremely dejected about it. The whole visit he attempts to warm up to your cats who keep a wary eye on him and pouts when none of them warms up to him. Feeling bad for him, you brought him your newest addition to your cat family which had been a tiny little kitten which you distanced from the rest. It had no power to fight back and instantly curled up into Bokuto’s chest. You swore his eyes grew misty and his smile was absolutely contagious. 

- Eventually, your cats warm up to him after his constant visits and he never fails to bring them gifts. These include treats, toys and even costumes. He buys these all unironically, he’s genuinely so excited to see what they will look like in the cute sparkly dress he bought because his heart swelled upon first seeing it. Unwilling to disappoint, you dress up one of your more tamer cats in the outfit and Bokuto is almost brought to the verge of tears at how cute they look. He’s very enthusiastic when it comes to your babies :’)

- Frequently questions when you’re considering getting your next cat. You make the mistake of asking him if he would like to tag along with you and pick out a cat to foster, you return home with four additional kittens all snugly asleep in Bokuto’s arms. (...can ya’ll imagine seeing him carrying a bunch of sleeping kittens in his muscular AF arms... I-) 

- Your love for cats is so endearing to Bokuto, he catches himself staring at you whilst you play with them, admiration gleaming within his eyes. Seeing you so gentle towards them makes his heart swell with pride at the thought that he managed to meet and date someone as loving and caring as you. He doesn’t even play his staring off as something else when you catch him and instead he openly admits what a lovely person you are. (your cat is sitting there like...human...proceed giving me attention with the delightful chase of the feather string...why do you love this owl-head anyway)

KAGEYAMA

- The only experience Kageyama has had when it comes to pets is his own fish which he sometimes forgets exists. This is proved canon by my group chat members and I. He’s pretty overwhelmed by the sheer amount of cats you have and finds himself awkwardly stroking one who comes up and rubs themselves against his legs. He looks a bit uncomfortable, not sure what to do. You help him ease up by putting your hand on top of his and guiding it over the soft fur of your cat. 

- Kageyama finds your will to help cats admirable, not that he would do something like that himself, but he can tell a lot of hard work goes into it and he thinks you’re amazing for being able to cope. Many times he finds himself willing to help you clean up or even help bathe one of your cats. His hands are full of scratches afterwards and you feel sick to your stomach with guilt, only for him to offer you a small smile of reassurance and tell you he didn't mind - it was fun, in fact, seeing as he never had the opportunity to take care of his own pet in such a way before. 

- He’s only close with one of your cats. For some reason, this cat eases him and whenever he comes over, he’s instantly greeted by the cat upon stepping through the door. The one time, you caught Kageyama falling asleep upon your bed with the cat curled up against his chest, both of them with seemingly content smiles. You managed to snag a picture and it will forever remain your profile picture because what on earth can top a sleeping Kageyama with his favourite cat snuggling on top of him. (me thinking about Kageyama cuddling with a cat.)

NISHINOYA

- Your poor cats.

- In the beginning, Nishinoya is in awe at how many cats you have. He doesn’t make an attempt to rush towards them but he definitely thinks their cute. He’s more interested in how he can entertain himself by playing with them. You show him some tricks they can do and he’s immediately hooked, oohing at every minor thing they do. 

- “Whoa! that was so cool,,” 

- “Uh..that wasn’t a trick.”

- Lowkey terrorizes your cats ngl. He’s gonna test out the theory that cats are afraid of cucumbers like he’s seen so many times on youtube and laugh his ass off when one of your cats jump nearly ten feet into the air. He records the whole thing and likely uploads it to social media. He likes to set up pranks for them. The one time you wanted to walk into the kitchen, only to find the entrance blocked off with clingwrap and all your cats sitting expectantly before it, their heads bouncing around in sync. Peering around the doorway, you find Nishinoya sipping on a milk box as he waves a toy around, holding back the snickers at how funny your cats look trying to get through.

- Overall, he thinks its really cool of you to do such a thing. Despite pulling pranks on your cats, he’s really endeared by them. Knowing how much you want to help, he often sends you posts he finds from animal shelters who are looking for foster homes. It makes you happy knowing he keeps your interests in mind when you’re away from each other.

- He’ll come over with catnip one day, saying he wants to see how high your cats can get. “Damn, pass the joint du-” *hiss* “I just want my hit, man.”

KUROO

- He’s in his element whenever he comes over to your house, your cats literally swarm around his feet upon barely taking a step inside the door. He’s their cat daddy, and you have zero say in the situation. Your cats probably like him more than you and you can’t even be mad at them tbh. Of course, you get a bit salty when your cats, which you have handpicked and rescued from a terrible fate, turn their nose to your cooing and tempting treats and instead find comfort in curling next to Kuroo who is watching youtube videos, not even making an effort to coax them into doing so.

- You have that one cat, the true OG, your loyal disciple who refuses to leave your side. They turn their head at Kuroo like he’s a walking infestation inside your house and they refuse to look at him with their nose up in the air. You don’t pick favourites, you love all your kitties equally, but you do find yourself loving that specific cat more during those moments. Kuroo doesn’t really mind, he just ruffles your hair teasingly and sarcastically comments that it’s good at least one of your cats love you. (yes, you did attack him with a pillow afterwards.)

- He truly doesn’t mind your mild obsession with cats. He loves them and they love him, with the exception of one. He doesn’t encourage you out of the blue but if you talk about potentially wanting to rescue a new cat he’s totally there to support you. This dude buys you so much cat food! You hardly need to go out and buy any, it’s like an unlimited supply. The one time he burst your front door open, carrying two bags of cat food over his shoulders whilst posing theatrically. “Come to me, my sweet children,” he says loudly over the deafening meow’s of your cats that circle his legs.

- He would likely ironically buy your cats these stupid looking costumes and dress them up with literal tears of laughter in his eyes. He lowkey makes fun of your cats and even YOU feel personally offended. But you gotta admit, he brings home really funny outfits and you feel bad for laughing at times. Kuroo is there for all the fun things, but as soon as it comes to bathing your cats or cleaning out litter boxes, he’s outta there.

[billyboymiki]

5 Works Tag Game

Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and post or link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

I got tagged by @tippenfunkaport and @caramelaire for this tag game!!

I’m not one to compliment myself on anything honestly. Recently I remember thinking about how I barely drew anything this year. There was a part of my brain nagging at me to check how much I had drawn last year. So, I uh did. Turns out I drew basically nothing?! I triple checked this in fact. My DeviantART, Tumblr AND my camera roll. Nothing . . . I drew 5 very basic pinback button designs and that was it. I couldn’t believe it; but, it made be feel so much better about what I did this year. Basically my whole instagram is all artwork from this year, since I am actually really new to IG. I got super close to 40 works this year!

Now onto the works! They are in order of when I drew them 😊

Glimmer Inspired Patterns

I wanted to teach myself how to make patterns on Clip Studio so bad! I watched a couple of YT tutorials, and I can’t even remember why I decided to make She-ra ones specifically; I’m glad I did though! The Glimmer one means so much to me. Just looking at makes me so happy! The fact that so many people have now called it ‘aesthetically pleasing’ makes me feel as though I actually created a work that others could relate to. That was enough praise for me; to create something for myself that everyone else loved as well 💖

Glimbow Cuddle

This was my first real She-ra artwork. When I saw there was a Glimbow Week again I knew I had to join this one. I don’t know if anyone knows this; but, drawings take me forever to make. I used to be strictly a traditional artist and still prefer to draw rough drafts on paper. I couldn’t decide if I wanted them on Glimmer’s window seat or in Bow’s dads’ library. I was afraid of doing backgrounds; so, both sounded absolutely terrifying. I decided to go for the fireplace even if it meant fancy lighting on top of the background aspect. I think I actually spent more time on the lighting that’s hitting Bow than on anything else in this picture. It was worth it though. I studied how the show did backgrounds and lighting for a while. I tried so many different attempts at how I wanted it to look and ultimately went with this one! I love it so much 🥺

Bow’s list with doodles

Ah, yes the drawings I did for Tippen’s birthday!! I knew I wanted to draw a scene from ‘Tuna Cans’, but I was worried to try something like this. You see, I’m somebody that likes to stay in a comfort zone and only uploaded fully rendered perfect artworks. This year was the first time that I let the ‘fun’ aspect overrule my perfectionism. I’m so happy that I stepped out of my comfort zone for this, because I love Chibi styles so much. I can’t even explain the absolute joy I had drawing these. I didn’t tell anyone what I was up to, so it was just me laughing at myself for being an absolute goofball. The end result and everyone’s reactions were more than I could have ever expected. I’ve decided I’m going to revive this style soon as well so please look forwards to it!!

Space Suit Squad

Okay, so I cheated a little with this one! I couldn’t just pick ONE of the squad. Honestly though, I drew these with the thought of making them into prints in the back of my mind. I taught myself how to draw a space background and I’m really proud of it! So much in fact that the one in the final pictures is the first and last one I ended up doing! If I had to pick my favorites I think I’d have to pick Glimmer, Bow and then Catra. I LOVE the way I draw Catra I don’t know why? Maybe the eyebrows I’m not sure 🤔 It took me a while to decide on expressions and poses; although, I figured these were the ones because I could look at them and go ‘yep that’s them.’

Winter Glimbow

This one took me soooo long; I actually had to tell myself that I should put my pen down because it was done and I should stop touching it!!! I was sketching pictures in my sketchbook to make more patterns for my Redbubble account, and of course I’m like 100% Glimbow brainrot. My brain went, oooo you know what would be cute? If this skate was actually Bow’s and not just generic. So, I ended up sketching Glimmer’s as well. The heart that their skates make is like the cherry on the top for me, it had to be done! I’m not sure I did the background justice on this one? It doesn’t matter to me though because the concept was worth the effort. It was snowing here and I needed this picture like I needed air, even if it wasn’t even December at the time I posted it 🤣 I liked this one so much that I have similar ideas for the other seasons sketched out as well 👀

I’m sorry that I ramble so often. I’m like this quiet person; yet, it’s hard for me to get out everything I want to say? I’m horrible at it actually my brain runs at a hundred miles a minute and I’m not good with words most of the time. This turned out as more of a thought process than my actual feelings on each one I suppose. SO, in conclusion. I drew A LOT, I stepped out of my comfort zone, taught myself digital art and patterns. I let myself come to terms with the fact that not every piece of art has to be ‘perfect’. I drew at least 5 FULL backgrounds and I never used to draw them! I’ve also always been one for simple shading and lighting, and I do think there’s a time for that type of style, while other times sometimes a more difficult one might be appropriate. I’m glad that I did both because now I know I can do both, and they each give a characteristic that I adore 🥰 Thank you to everyone that has followed me through this journey, or just anyone who read my rambling! I have an honorable mention under the cut and some originals for anyone that made it this far! 💖

I’m not going to tag anyone; but, if you want to do this PLEASE do it. It was so great to reflect on what I did this year, it really surprised me and I think what you have done will surprise you as well! It’s been a rough year, and in the end we have been here supporting each other and that’s one of the most rewarding parts of being in a fandom! 💜

Glimmer screencap redraw

Another picture where I really tested myself on drawing a background! I love it even if it killed my hand!! The background definitely took the longest on this one too. My sister literally said ‘Wait, you did the background? I thought you just drew her?!’ And that was the only validation I needed!! I ended up thinning out Glimmer’s outline so she matched the background better. If you use the vectors on Clip please use this feature! You can do the opposite as well, it’s super useful!

Oh hi! Remember when I said I couldn’t decide between the two locations? Truth is, I also couldn’t decide if I was going to make it traditional or digital. I ended up getting really mad at the traditional version unfortunately. I haven’t gotten the hang of traditional backgrounds. In the end, I should have also done it in Copic and not cheap pencil crayons 😫

Just some space friends! There is something so rewarding about traditional art. Yes, I can see the mistakes and the proportions are most likely off; yet, it doesn’t bother me? I wanted to also show these bonus drawings because nobody is perfect and I thought some of you might like to see some of my process. Being able to hold it in my hands is something I will never tire of, in a way it’s super rewarding. I keep all my art actually and sometimes I like the rough drafts more than the finished work 👀 Outlining artwork can actually ruin the charm every so often 😔 I do really love the final versions of these though!

Annnnnd the last bonus!! As you can tell the final version stayed pretty true to my sketches! I almost went with a more realistic look and made the symbols ‘stitched’ onto the skates. In the end it felt like it didn’t fit the rest of the drawing unless I wanted to add extra details to the clothing as well. The wings on Glimmer’s skates turned into ‘Shwings’ PLEASE tell me other people know what that is? I had a pair a few years ago and misplaced them. I was doing the rough draft and it popped into brain and I treated it as a joke at first, until I gave it a proper chance XD In the end I fell in love with it!!!

[stoppit-keepout]

when nobody is listening

Kissing prompt 8. Laying a gentle kiss to the back of the other’s hand. (I realise most of the prompts are v romantic, but I listened to some Mountain Goats and couldn’t stop myself from writing sad things, oops. Title from Long Neck’s Rosy)

Heads-up: this is about Nile Freeman’s family dealing with death--hers and her father’s.

Tony has a few memories of Dad’s funeral. They have hard edges, and they shine through tears, crystalline.

Auntie Kai singing Amazing Grace, a red flower on her black dress. Mom pressing a kiss to his praying hands. “Come here,” collecting him roughly into her arms with Nile, God, Nile.

He’s not going to remember Nile’s funeral. He’s not going to go.

He tells Mom while she’s making a salad to go with dinner on Thursday. Auntie Kai dropped off lasagna and tried to stay, but Mom wasn’t ready to see her, see anyone yet, so it’s just the two of them.

“What do you mean ‘I can’t go,’ you got plans?” The retort comes fast, before she’s looked at him.

Mom’s always on the move--ADD, Nile calls it, though who knows for sure--and it’s only gotten worse since they got the news. Since Tuesday.

There’s a lot to do, she says when Tony asks if she wants breakfast, and she can see the TV from where I’m ironing, thanks, baby, you just watch your show, and she’s just going to call Father Willem to make sure everything’s set, but she’ll go to bed soon, she promises.

“I can’t,” he says. His grief presses a greedy hand across his throat, strangles the rest of what he’d wanted to say.

Mom knocks over the salad dressing. The plastic thunks when it hits the counter. “Baby,” she says, and she’s there.

Tony pushes his face into her shoulder, and her hands push against the back of his head too, hiding his twisting sobs in her at-home sweater. “I can’t, Mom, she’s gotta come back,” the words lurching out around his crying.

“Shh,” Mom says, and holds him tighter. “I’ve got you.” Her voice trembles so hard that it shakes the bones in Tony’s legs, and they’re folding, Mom slowing his fall, but both going down together.

“Who’s gonna keep me out of trouble now?” Tony doesn’t know if anyone but Mom would be able to understand the words, they’re so clawed-up from tears; he doesn’t know if they really make sense, but it was what they always said. Mom and Nile, keeping their boys out of trouble, but Dad’s dead, and then Nile enlisted, and now, and now--

Mom’s crying just as hard as Tony, now, but he can still hear her say, “She’s still watching out for you, baby, she always will.”

The lasagna doesn’t taste like anything, but at least the lid was on the salad dressing when it fell. Nothing spills.

Tony goes to the funeral and stares so hard at that stupid flag that it shows up, inverted, when he blinks.

-

Tony’s heart churns in pain that whole first month. It’s somehow even worse than when Dad died, because at least then, he and Nile had been a team. Mom took care of them, and they’d make sure she didn’t stay up alone. Nile always made their cousins take Tony, too, when they go out for bike rides, always let him tag along and play his music. Tony made sure that when Nile got mad, she didn’t get mad alone.

Mom’s not mad now. The closest she gets is when Tony gets detention for getting in a fight with some guy trying to get him to join JROTC--she descends upon his principal like an ice storm, and Tony doesn’t get a mark on his permanent record from the incident.

But mostly she’s sad, and Tony’s sad, and it’s new enough that he doesn’t have a clue what to do.

His friends start coming over to hang out. The Sunday after the funeral, they just show up, and from that point on it seems like someone’s always around--he can’t complain about it. They teach Mom to play Breath of the Wild on Jalen’s Switch, and they pull a jagged laugh from him when Mom tries to catch the giant horse.

When Auntie Kai finds out that Mom’s letting Tony’s friends come over and play video games, she practically moves in. “Let me take care of you,” Tony overhears her telling Mom one night, and the echo of Nile hits him so hard that he has to sit down right there in the hall.

Auntie Kai’s able to be around all the time because work is giving her some paid time off--something about a bunch of vacation days she needed to spend, though she also told Mom the days definitely hadn’t been there in December when she’d wanted time for Christmas. Tony’s dimly grateful for whatever glitch had hidden the vacation from her then, though, because it means now she’s here, and she can help.

They spend a lot of time in the kitchen, even though food still doesn’t taste right. Tony sleeps in Nile’s room sometimes and tries to tell himself she’s still there looking over him, like Dad.

It doesn’t get easier that Nile’s gone, but it gets easier for Tony to still be around.

-

He gets into U Chicago. He gets into a few other schools, too, and has a couple rejections he didn’t care to read, but he gets into U Chicago.

“You deserve it, you worked so hard,” Mom says. He picks her up off her feet in a hug, and she laughs, loud.

“Thanks for making me work,” he says. “And thanks for fixing my application essays.”

“Oh, for--” She’s grinning as she slaps at his arm, and he puts her down. “How many times do I have to tell you, I didn’t do that!”

Tony rolls his eyes, but he’s sure he’s still grinning like a fool. “Sure, Mom.”

“You need to give yourself credit, you earned every bit of this.”

Sure, he did, but he knows he’s never totally perfected the right ‘their/there/they’re/whatever,’ no matter how many times Nile had tried to explain it. He also has some proof that Mom went and fixed things even after she gave him her approval for his submission--when he’d checked the system the day after he’d uploaded his application, the PDF didn’t look quite the same as the one he had on his computer.

Mom probably doesn’t want to bring down the moment with reminders of what they’ve lost, so he doesn’t bust her for it just yet.

She’s his mom, though, so she sees the bite in his smile even without him saying anything. “They’re so proud of you,” she says, and gives him another hug. “I just know it.”

-

In a weird twist, one of Nile’s old friends is the TA for Tony’s object-oriented programming class. He hadn’t recognised her name on the syllabus, but when she walks into the tutorial saying, “Okay, students of MPCS 51410-B, please correct your syllabi because you are now in Sandra’s section,” her face and voice shove him abruptly back in time.

He’s eight and he’s threatening to tell on her and Nile for cutting gum out of Nile’s hair, he’s ten and he’s trying to convince Nile to let him watch horror movies with them, he’s twelve and got roped into taking pictures of her and Nile posing in Hallowe’en costumes.

She looks shaken when she sees him, then shakes it off.

He doesn’t know how to bring it up, but he goes to her office hours in the second week of class anyway. Before he goes in, he doesn’t really want to talk about Nile. He doesn’t want to cry, he doesn’t want to have to lie that it’s okay, he doesn’t want to listen while someone talks about Nile the way people talk about Dad. Like she’s gone. Like she’s over.

He goes in anyway.

“Tony,” Sandra says, and she’s not crying yet at least. “I’m so sorry.”

It ends up not being too bad. They talk about Java for a bit, because there’s an assignment coming up next week, and Sandra mentions she just got a grant to work on something about databases that Tony doesn’t totally follow yet (but he will).

He comes back a few more times. It eventually ends up being nice to trade stories back and forth with someone who knew Nile, and Nile’s drive, her sharp wit, her big heart. Tony learns again that Sandra and Nile had met on the first day of kindergarten, and that Nile had screamed when the teacher had tried to partner them up with different people in the second week of school.

“She always said she just knew, with me,” Sandra says like a badge of honour.

“She was like that,” Tony says. It settles, a small betrayal, in his ribs. She’s still like that, he silently, irrationally papers over.

--

“You coming today?” Mom asks. She’s already dressed for church, but she’s sitting half-on the chair in front of the computer, distractedly typing something into a comment box on Facebook. “I’m leaving in a minute, just have to do...” She trails off, her typing picking up tempo.

Tony doesn’t bother responding out loud, just ducks back to his room to change his shirt and goes to wait by the door for Mom to finish up.

“Okay, okay, we’re already late,” she says, grabbing her purse and rifling through it for her keys. “Is your sister already in the car?”

The words pounce on them both. Stillness, then explosive motion as Mom flinches, as she drops her purse and her little tin of breath mints bursts and scatters.

“Mom,” Tony says, and she’s already on her knees, gathering up her things. His knees thud on the floor, following to help.

“I’m sorry, it’s just--”

“I know,” he says, and he repeats it because Mom wasn’t looking the first time. “Mom, I know.”

“I didn’t forget,” Mom says, hands finally still, eyes meeting Tony’s. “I could never.”

“But it’s like she’s still here, right?” Mom blurs and glows in the tears filling Tony’s vision. “You feel it, too.”

That’s what tips Mom over into crying, too.

They’re late for church, but they still go.

Peace be with you, murmuring around them, and Mom holds his face in her hands and makes him bend so she can kiss him on the forehead, like she always does.

Communion, and prayer. Please protect Mom, and bless the whole family, and let me get through finals okay. Tony prays the way he’s been praying for almost a year now: to God, and to Nile.

Mom’s kneeling beside him, her shoulder against his, and he crosses himself when his thoughts have smoothed out. Mom catches his hand in a tight grip as he’s lowering it; they hold on to each other.

[overheardatthecontinental]

I uploaded another chapter because the first was so short!  Please comment and make me feel validated.

John had always thought relationships were hard. Two people having to communicate and find common ground and connection. It just didn't seem worth the effort, especially in his world.

But Helen made it easy.

They fell quickly into a relationship, complete with shared meals and hand holding and pillow talk.

He learned that before Helen had coffee, she could barely form a coherent sentence. That she lived in high heels but tripped walking barefoot. That she had a handful of dainty tattoos that included a small daisy on her ankle, a sun on the inside of her middle finger, and a coffee bean just below her ear.

He learned that spring was her favorite season but she adored fall almost as much.

When he offered to take her apple picking, she had thrown her arms around him and kissed him nearly senseless. She made apple fritters and crisp and muffins for the cafe and he was given the privilege of helping and tasting.

That even after she showered, she still smelled vaguely of coffee.

And she had a collection of old books that rivaled his own.

Sometimes he imagined what it would be like to build more shelves in his personal library and mix their collections together the way her dresses and sweaters now hung with his suits.

It was too soon to discuss such things, however. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her off.

Not when he had her in his life and, most nights, in his bed.

What was most surprising, however, was her utter contentment in not knowing what he did for a living.

As far as her friends and employees knew, John was an independent contractor. Helen knew there was more to it. Her employees joked around calling him thr super spy but… even though they didn't talk about it, he knew that she knew there was more to it. 

On more than one occasion, he had shown up to dinner or to a date with unexplained cuts or bruises. Helen had said nothing of it but she began carrying around a first aid kit and kept it stocked with butterfly bandages and gauze.

She would assess him then tend to him, and then hold him.

And he loved her, wholly and completely.

He loved the way she favored cheap wine and how she fell asleep watching cooking shows. He loved that she insisted everything she serve either be local or fair trade. He loved the way she lit up when he picked her up off the ground. More than anything, he loved to earn her smile.

Hence why he spent half the morning, after Helen left for work, individually picking daisies at the flower shop down the street before heading to the shop.

He walked in, searching for Helen, but not seeing her behind the counter. So consumed in looking for her, he almost didn't notice the man walking in behind him with a wide, shit-eating grin.

"Hiya, John. Nice flowers."

John blinks, “Aurelio. What are you doing here?”

“Always notice you’re carrying the to-go cups from here. Figured I’d give it a try since you favor the joint so much. Now I’m wondering if it’s the coffee that’s bringing you here.”

He isn’t quite sure what to say to that but he isn’t able to say much because that’s when Aurelio spots it. The special board.

“What the hell is the Wick? John, do you have a coffee named after you?” Aurelio doesn’t leave him time to answer, narrowing his eyes and reading off, “Latte with dark chocolate and raspberry? Raspberry, John?”

John opens his mouth to respond just as Eve calls out loudly.

“Coffee’s ready, Super Spy.”

And John wishes he had been ten minutes earlier or ten minutes later and that Aurelio was not witnessing this.

Instead, John skips the line and grabs his coffee as Aurelio calls, “Super spy?”

John shoots him a look as he takes his coffee.

Eve sees the flowers and makes a loud, “Awww. Boss lady is out back dealing with a shipment. Let me go grab her.”

“If she’s busy, I’ll just put them in her office.” John says quickly.

“Nonsense! You know she’d want to see you.” And Eve disappears behind the counter.

John makes his way to the side so Jamie can finish taking the orders of the short queue and Aurelio steps out of line to follow him.

“What the hell is this place?” Aurelio asks, “Super spy?”

“I will give you a hundred coins if you leave right now and never mention this again.”

“Not on your life.” Aurelio says, completely in awe. He pulls out his cell phone and quickly snaps a shot of John with coffee and flowers.

“What the hell?” John hisses.

“I need photographic evidence of what is happening right now.”

“You don’t need shit.”

“I need an explanation.” Aurelio fires back, “I never see you without a coffee cup from this place so I decide to give it a try and find you here with flowers and a drink named after you? John, please, I will give you six new cars if you tell me what’s going on?”

And John is saved from needing to say anything as the door to the kitchen opens and Helen comes out.

Her dress today is a pale pink with sleeves that extend just to her elbow. Hours ago, it had been hiked up over her hips as he took her in the hallway before she left for work. Her hair is, as usual, held up by a pencil in a loose bun.

“Hi baby.” She greets, coming around the counter. Helen reaches up and wraps an arm around his neck and stands on her tiptoes to give him a kiss.

John hands her the flowers which she takes with a beaming smile and plants a kiss on his cheek. 

“You spoil me.” She says as John wraps an arm around her back. He is aware of Aurelio and the expressions his old ally is making but he has no idea what to say.

“And make the rest of us look bad.” Jamie calls over from where he’s making espresso. “I swear, Helen, we should get hazard pay for having to watch the two of you make eyes at each other all day. It’s so sweet, I swear it could make me sick.”

“I’ll take them being mushy over the months and months of pining any day.” Eve adds, “that was so much worse.”

And Aurelio is never going to let him live this down.

As he thinks it, Aurelio steps forward and offers a hand to Helen, “Hi, I’m John’s old friend Aurelio.”

And John could kill him. He had a lot of respect for Aurelio. He liked the man. He trusted the man, as much as he trusted anyone. But Aurelio finding Deja Brew might have been the worst thing that has ever happened to him, John muses. That includes dozens of stab wounds, gun shots, homeless years, and every other shitty thing that he has gone through.

Helen, being Helen, smiles and takes his hand, unwrapping her right arm from around John to shake Aurelio’s hand and the removal of her touch is enough to make John want to stab the mechanic.

But he doesn’t and he keeps his grip on Helen as she reaches forward.

“Hi, Aurelio. I’m Helen.”

“An absolute pleasure to meet you, Helen.” He looks over at Jamie, “And I would love to hear more about these months and months of pining.”

Helen rolls her eyes, “It wasn’t that bad--”

“Wasn’t that bad?” Jamie says, leaning forward, “I swear to christ, man, John came in for months before they started talking and we had to deal with months of them just staring at each other over the counters. Making eyes every damn day while Mister Tall, dark roast, and handsome would just--”

“I’m sorry,” Aurelio is grinning like a mad man. “Tall, dark roast, and handsome?”

“It’s one of the few nicknames for John that boss lady hasn’t vetoed. Other forbidden options included sugarless daddy,...”

“Jamie.” Helen warns.

“Aaaand, she signs my checks so I’m going to stop. But the magical day came when Helen got held up at gunpoint and John finally made a move so now life is good.”

John wonders if it’s possible to erase Aurelio’s mind of the past hour. Doc probably had some good meds somewhere that could do the trick. Or a bad concussion. Maybe an entire bottle of bourbon…

Aurelio looks like he’s about to say something and John can’t risk him saying anything. Quickly, he jumps in, “Weren’t you going to order a coffee, Aurelio?”

“I was.” Aurelio nods with a smile, “I was thinking about trying the Wick.”

Or maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to kill Aurelio. Sure, it was hard to find an honest mechanic but he’d gladly overpay for maintenance the rest of his life so long as he didn’t have to deal with this.

“Eve,” Helen says, “Get Aurelio a Wick and an apple muffin.” She turns to Aurelio with a smile, “John and I made the muffins on Saturday.”

And 聁urelio is beaming, utterly delighted at the timage of John Wick baking.

“Did you wear an apron?” Aurelio asks John, who promptly responds:

“I will kill you.”

Helen taps him on the chest, “Be nice!”

And he can’t deny her anything, even if it means playing nice with his asshole of a friend. Even as his friend is pushing every ounce of patience that John has to its limit.

Helen looks up at John, “I need to go finish moving the boxes into the deep freeze, but I’ll be out in just a few minutes.”

“I can help.”

“No, go sit down with your friend. It shouldn’t be more than five minutes.”

She reaches up and gives him a soft kiss that, even a month later, has his head reeling. And she turns back to the back, carrying her bouquet of daisies. 

“Wow.” Aurelio says.

John turns and walks to his usual table in the back. He sits down, coffee in hand, and Aurelio follows, taking the seat across from him.

“So, that’s your girl? She’s sweet.”

“She is.” John agrees.

“Not what I pictured you going for.”

“Oh?”

Aurelio shakes his head, “I always pictured you for the femme fatale type.”

And John snorts. Because there is nothing to say to that. Bad girls had never been his thing. He had too much in common with them, too many of the same weaknesses. But then, good girls had never been his thing either. Because he was far too different from them.

Helen was as good as it got and she probably certainly fell towards the good girl end of the spectrum, but she was so much more than that. She was kind and sparing in her judgement. She was sweet but not weak. 

Not too long ago, a fight nearly broke out in her shop when two patrons had each claimed that the other pushed them in line. There was some shoving and John was ready to stand up and interfere when Helen had marched in, got between them, and smiled.

He had never seen anything like her kindness but all it took was a smile and they were apologizing to one another and the rest of the patrons.

“I take it I’m wrong?” Aurelio says at John’s reaction.

John says nothing, noting that Eve is making her way around the counter with a cup of coffee and a small plate with a muffin. He waits until she drops it off and says a quick thank you to her.

“No problem, super spy.”

“Yes.” John says when Eve is back behind the counter, “You’re wrong.”

Aurelio nods, carefully, a smile on his face as he does so, “I gotta say, her staff are killing me with these nicknames. Sugarless Daddy? Super spy?”

“The latter came from the day Jamie referred to. It was just before closing and Helen and I were alone in the shop. Someone came in, with a gun, to rob her and I… interfered.”

“Meaning he’s six-feet-under?”

“He is now.”

Because, no, John hadn’t been willing to kill in front of Helen. She didn’t need to see that or experience that side of him. But he was going to be damned to let that man walk around after he made bail.

John had followed him home and used the man’s own gun to shoot him. The gun he had threatened Helen with after it was conveniently misfiled by Jimmy.

Of course, Helen did not know. Nor did he have any intention of telling her.

Aurelio nods and takes a bite of his apple muffin, “Damn, man! You made this?”

John shrugs, “I helped.”

Meaning he did exactly what Helen told him to do as they slowly turned his kitchen into Armageddon. He had been in war zones less chaotic then a kitchen when Helen was baking. 

He also found out that flour was not as easy to remove from hair as he had thought.

And that… he loved that about her. He loved that she was dominating in the kitchen and that, when he got in her way, she used her ingredients as projectiles.

He loved that she spiked her coffee with irish cream and her apple cider with bourbon on days when she didn’t work.

He loved that he now had six kinds of coffee in his kitchen and Helen would randomly spit out facts about their origin or the process used to roast the beans.

He loved that she made him taste everything, while looking at him to gauge for any and every reaction.

And he couldn’t lose any of it.

Not the slowly growing pile of heels in his bedroom or the vast amounts of sugar that now resided in his kitchen cabinets. 

Not Helen falling asleep on him watching ridiculous cooking shows or waking up with her completely tangled around him.

“You can’t tell anyone about her, Aurelio, I’m serious. I want to keep Helen as far away from that world as I can.”

“From our world, you mean? You live in that world, John. How do you expect to keep her away from it?”

“I exist in the underworld when I’m there. And when I’m not, I’m here.”

“You can’t walk in two worlds, John.”

He can’t leave the underworld but he would die before he left Helen.

“I don’t have much of a choice.” John says quietly. “I’m not letting her go. And I have to keep her safe, which means that you can’t go telling anyone about this. About her.”

Aurelio shifts uncomfortably. “It might be a little late for that.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning I already sent Marcus a picture of the drink board special and of you holding daisies, John.”

Of course he had. 

That meant that Aurelio knew about Helen and Marcus would soon guess that John had a woman. That John Wick, a man often compared to a priest for his lengths of celibacy, had fallen hard for a woman beyond his reach.

Helen emerges from the back at that moment and walks to the back. There are no extra chairs but Helen simply chose to perch herself on John’s lap, leaning against the back wall. She wraps an arm around his shoulders and gives him a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“All good?” John asks and she nods, her fingers rubbing his neck gently.

John relaxes under her touch and inhales the scent of sweet coffee.

And just like that, he is home.

[keanuvibe]

Bodyguard (John Wick x Reader) Pt. 4

A/N: Hi! sorry im awful at uploading lol. my personal life rn is on fire and i haven’t had all the time in the world to write, but managed to pull this chapter together so :) thats coolio. 

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: swears, violence, a lil fluff

“So, tell me everything.” June smirked, leaning over the table towards you. You had managed to meet the girls on time, only a few minutes past twelve- thirty. The three of you got seated shortly after, and ordered your cocktails; beginning the rounds of catching up you had to do. The restaurant is diner themed, set in the 1950’s. One wall of the building was a bar, fit with barstools, an ice cream machine, as well as a soda machine. There was even a section where you could order homemade candy. Little booths scattered the wall across from the bar, and tables separated the two. The floor was checkered design donning many muddy footprints and the walls were covered in old-timey photos of local streets. You and the girls sat at a booth, June and Dottie sitting across from you.

“Okay, get this,” You began, leaning in towards your friends, “Santino, you know, mio cugino pazzo. He’s mad at my father and is trying to kill me for it.”  ‘[My crazy cousin.]’ You finished and took another long sip of your cocktail. June and Dottie stared with their mouths agape. You calmly set down your drink and smiled shyly, eyes bouncing between the girls. You loved your friends, honestly. The three of you have been close since you were young teens. June and Dot also had connections to the Italian mafia, their fathers having run a section of both New York and New Jersey; although they aren't as intertwined as you. June is the oldest, one year older than yourself. She’s an old soul, that you know for sure. She wears dated clothes and uses dated household items; in fact, you can't recall June ever purchasing something new from the stores you and Dot go to. Hell, even her car is a 1978 AMC Pacer. Dottie is only a few months older than you, on the other hand. She is the spitting image of a pinup girl. She wears her hair in elegant waves and has bangs, she even wears button up dresses and has big hair bows for when shes feeling fancy. You can’t recall a time when she didn’t wear red lipstick nearly everyday.

“Should you even be outside?” Dottie whispered, leaning closer to your figure. Her New York accent was a little amplified by the drinks she’s had already. You shrugged as your answer, and June scoffed. 

“You, (Y/N), are unbelievable.” The waiter to walked up to your table, halting your conversation. The three of you blinked at the other, little grins holding back giggles ready to erupt. The waiter asked for your orders, then as soon as the young man had left, you jumped right back into it. 

“You guys should see my bodyguard.” You spoke, a smirk donning your face. Your mind wondered as to what he was up to right now. Maybe he's still sitting waiting for you to exit the bathroom, or, maybe he's already begun the witch hunt. 

“Ah, yes. John? As you've mentioned. Show us! the way you've described him- He sounds gorgeous.” Dottie eagerly bounced in her seat, urging you to show them a picture. You pulled out your phone, stomach dropping at the several messages that donned the lock screen; John’s contact name on each one. Witch hunt is it. 

12:47: Very funny. Where are you? 

12:59: Where are you. 

1:13: (Y/N). This isn’t a game.

1:21: I’m coming to find you. 

At least it took him almost an hour and a half to notice. You bit your cheek, looking up at June and Dottie. The two girls were engaged in conversation, talking about something or another. You cleared the notifications and unlocked your phone, hoping to god you got to finish your lunch before John caught up. You opened the camera roll and scrolled through until you found a picture of you and the bodyguard. Somehow, you'd gotten him to agree to a photo. He was bent over so his head was level with your own. Due to the lighting, the man was squinting, however the dark gaze caused a chill to form down your back. You cleared your throat and flipped your phone around to show the girls. Dottie stopped talking and immediately looked at the screen

“Oh my god.” She murmured, sitting back and putting her hand over her chest. “He’s so handsome.” June grabbed the phone from you to get a better look. 

“You have to fuck him.” The eldest commented with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. You let out a short laugh, snatching your phone back from the girls grasp. The two girls giggled at your embarrassment, Dot even took a coy sip from her drink. 

“Was that gray in his beard? How old is he?” Dottie asked, looking you in the eye and sipping on her own cocktail. 

“Don’t laugh, okay? He’s mid fifties.” A blush crawled across your cheeks as your words escaped your lips. June and Dottie blinked a couple times before Dot finally let out a snort. 

“Going geriatric, now? hm?” June spoke, raising her brow and taking a gulp of her drink. While Dottie laughed at June’s question, you glanced over their shoulders, witnessing two burly men sit down at a table across from yours. One of them made eye contact with you, glare evident in their gaze, before looking back to their buddy. You felt your skin crawl and cleared your throat, pushing the feeling away. June’s laughter brought you back, now looking between the two girls again. 

“Well, He- He really doesn't feel old. Not when we're together.” You shrugged, playing with the condensation on your drink. 

“I mean, you’re only twenty-six,” Dot spoke, her eyes glancing between you and June. “You’re young and hot. I don't see an issue.” Your eyes shot up to meet Dottie’s. She smiled at you, her dark brown eyes warming your core. 

“Who are we to judge,” June began, a laugh escaping her throat. “I slept with that old guy, remember? He was, like, almost sixty and I was drunk as hell.” You and Dottie laughed, remembering that night. It was June’s twenty-third birthday. You three went to the club to celebrate and the eldest of your group ended up getting too wasted on absinthe. Which resulted in her sleeping with Mitch Johnson, an old friend of your fathers. Small world. 

“And you,” June pointed to Dottie, “Are a homewrecker.” 

“He never said he was married.” Dottie responded, sticking her tongue out at the woman. The three of you chuckled amongst yourselves before a silence took over. Your eyes once again scanned the room, not being able to shake the eerie feeling those two men implanted. They still sat across the diner and occasionally their eyes would make contact with your own, causing a chill to run up your spine. You quietly flipped your phone over, checking for any more messages from John. The screen remained blank, setting panic to freely course through your veins. His previous message was sent fifteen minutes ago, which meant the man was probably on his way right now. Plus, your parents didn’t live far from Coopers. 

The men both stood up now, locking eyes with you. They then looked at the other, as though confirmation was in order, before beginning to walk in the direction that you and the girls sat. Anxiety courses firmly through your veins now, and you could feel your palms gather sweat. 

“Girls,” You murmured, gathering their attention. “There are two men walking in our direction now, and I’m pretty sure they are after me.” You kept your voice low, trying to pretend as though you are oblivious. June and Dottie became physically uncomfortable, now shifting in their seats and looking over their shoulders. You felt guilt cross your person, now realizing how serious the situation is. You put your two best friends in harm's way. I mean, It’s not like they’re completely useless; they have parents in the Mafia, they’re trained in combat and weaponry. However, the guilt still bothered you that it was your fault.

“How do we go about this?” Dot asked, reaching for her purse. Your eyes watched as the woman dug into her bag. The pop of a gun chamber sounded as she began to fill it with bullets. June tied her hair back and began to stretch her arms. You sometimes forget that June is trained extensively in Jiu Jitsu. You also looked back to the men who were still making their way to you, passing through the crowded dining room floor. 

“Should we leave the public space?” You murmured, “I don’t want civilian casualties.” 

“Yes.” June agreed, standing up. “Gather your things, quickly.” She added. The oldest tossed a fifty dollar bill onto the table to pay for the drinks and the food you didn’t get to eat. You led the way, pushing through the crowded dining room to the exit. You glanced back, seeing the men become more frustrated. You are aware of the other, knowing what little cat and mouse game was occurring. 

Your palms shoved the door open, the three of you stumbling over onto the sidewalk. You looked both ways before leading right. You didn’t know what to do, whether you should try to outrun them, or stick up and fight. Maybe if you kill them it’ll send a message to Santino. Though, he may not even care. As he’s got twenty more men to fill the space those two would leave. You made sure June and Dottie still followed, checking over your shoulder occasionally. The three of you pushed through the crowds of New York, your main destination being Dottie’s vehicle. Your eyes also kept a lookout for John. He probably tracked your phone, you knew he had the ability anyways. You’re just glad the little ploy worked for as long as it did. You turned right down an alleyway, taking a shortcut towards the parking garage that Dot’s car was in. June looked over her shoulder, alarm blaring through her veins as she spotted the men. 

“They’re still behind us.” She spoke, looking between you and Dottie. You took a deep breath, placing your hands on your hips. 

“Va al diavolo!” ‘[Go to hell!]’ You cursed, throwing your hands up. Dot quickly grabbed you by the arm, pulling you as she began to run to the end. June grunted as the three of you approached a dead end, meeting a chain link fence.

“Fanculo. Okay, you two climb over.” ‘[Fuck.]’ You spoke, gesturing to the fence that stood in front of you. Your eyes met those of your friends, all breathing heavily from the sprint. Echoed footsteps could be heard at the entrance of the alley. You glanced over your shoulder, seeing the silhouettes of the men headed in your direction.

“Go!” You spoke with a harshness towards your friends.

“Not without you!” Dottie raised her tone, hands on hips. You turned your head again, seeing them get closer.

“Dot, just go!” You finally yelled. The girls hesitated, however respected your wishes and quickly climbed the fence, hopping to the other side. They stood now, staring as the men approached, getting ready to jump back over if need be.

“Santino it ha Inviato?” ‘[Did Santino send you?]’ You asked the men, slowly walking towards them.

“Si.” ‘[Yes.]’ One responded, their faces finally becoming clear from the backlight. You looked at them, noting how they both looked like average Italian men. Dark hair, olive eyes, and warm skin. Their faces were covered in a few scars, and you noted how they both wore suits with visible holsters resting on their hips

“It ha mandato per uccidermi?” ‘[Did he send you to kill me?]’ You asked, the men now only ten feet away from you. The darkness of the alley sent a chill down your spine, and you glanced back at the girls to make sure they were alright. Dot had her hand in her purse, most likely gearing up for when shit turned sideways. June held a stoic look, almost a resting bitch face, staring down the two men. 

“Si.” The same one answered again. They now stood only five feet away, stopping in front of you. You felt the sweat drip down your forehead, the buggy summer heat beginning to take claim of your body. You took a deep breath, wondering where John was, and how now would be a good time for him to suddenly appear. The men cracked their knuckles, rolling their shoulders and looking at you with sinister smiles. 

“Di ‘a Santino: E un peccato che sia troppo codardo per uccidermi.” ‘[Tell Santino: It’s a shame he’s too much of a coward to kill me himself.]’ You spoke, remembering the moves that your bodyguard had taught you. You leapt forward, first knocking one of the men down by pushing in his kneecaps. You took the moment to quickly hit the next guy, however, he blocked your blow, sending you back a few feet. The second man took advantage of your hesitation and grabbed you, throwing you into one of the walls. You let out a yelp, feeling the brick scrape bare skin harshly. The first guy stood up, and threw a fist at you, however, you quickly dodged and used his own momentum to toss his body into the wall. 

You felt as the second lackey quickly punched your gut, causing you to double over in pain. June and Dottie stood yelling which you could hear through ringing ears. You recovered quickly, countering the second man with a swift kick to his shin. He groaned, but recovered and swung a fist at you. You managed to dodge the blow and delivered a hearty boot to his groin. He quickly dropped to the ground in pain and you grabbed the pistol from his holster, pulling the trigger and placing one bullet into his skull. The second man used this moment to grab your loose shirt, and throw you into the brick, scraping your skin once again. He lifted his foot and conveyed a kick to your gut, sending you to double over. He used his fist to hit the sides of your face, throwing your head back and forth. You could feel blood begin to drip down your face, the pain that each snap of your neck caused, you could hear June and Dot yelling but it was faint. Time felt slowed, your heartbeat was like a drum in your ear. Then, a gunshot. 

All movements stopped, followed by the thud of a body hitting the ground near your own. You slowly slid down, ignoring the burning chafe the brick left. Hot tears stung your eyes as you covered them with your hands, a harsh sob leaving your throat. Your body ached, your face burned, and blood was the only taste that donned your mouth. You heard the chain link rattle as somebody climbed over it, as well as a huff when they landed. A gentle hand placed itself on your shoulder, and you saw as they knelt down, due to the shadow.

“(Y/N).” John. A hoarse cry escaped your throat upon hearing your bodyguards gentle voice. He wasn’t angry, like you expected. Instead, his tone seemed more worried than anything. You managed to look up at the man from your hands, your eyes greeting the sight of his own.

“Oh my god, (Y/N)!” You heard Dottie yell as she approached your side. The two girls quickly examined your body, nearly shoving John out of the way. 

“I fucked up.” You didn’t even recognize your voice as you spoke— your throat burned. June dotted your bloody forehead with a napkin from Dot’s purse.

“We should get her back home.” Dottie murmured, looking up at John. The dark haired man nodded, agreeing with the woman. June moved out of the way so he could scoop you into his arms. You lay your head onto his chest, faintly hearing the sound of his heartbeat and breathing. The man carried you out of the alley with June and Dottie close behind. You felt the summer sun warm your face as you exited the cool shade of the alleyway. The fresh breeze brought your attention to the cuts on your face, feeling the coolness from the semi-dried blood. Dottie opened the vehicles door and John placed you in the passenger seat, buckling your body firmly in. The two girls hopped into the back, John promising they’d be returned to their car later this evening. You heard the rumble of the engine, and closed your eyes, feeling tiredness numb the pain that ravaged your figure.

——————

“How long have you been employed by the (Y/L/N)’s?” Dottie’s gentle voice quietly echoed throughout your bedroom. Mellow sun rays shone in through the window, casting a warm haze throughout the space. After the incident in the alleyway, John brought you, Dottie, and June back to your parents estate. However, after you all got back, John discovered they'd left on business to Rome for a few days. He carried your figure all the way from the car to your bed, carefully depositing you. Dot and June then got to work, bandaging your wounds, though after you seemed stable and well asleep, they backed off and let you get some rest. Now, John watched as Dottie cared for your sleeping figure. His heart couldn’t help but ache to see you so helpless laying there. Your face had been drained of some of its color, leaving it more pale and sickly. Your hair stuck to your skin, and a thin layer of sweat covered your body. Your bodyguard wanted so badly to climb into the bed with you, stroke your hair from your face, tend to your bandages, hold you, kiss you. 

“Month and a half.” John answered, looking over to the woman. She nodded at his answer, dotting your forehead with a wet washcloth. The woman sat next to your bed with a rag in hand, occasionally cleaning your skin of sweat and dried blood specs. June was asleep on the small couch you had in your bedroom next to one of the windows. John stood on the opposite side of the bed from Dottie, watching her every movement when it came to caring for you. Occasionally your body would stir, but you still hadn’t woken up since the car— four hours ago. 

“Are you liking it?” The vintage dressed woman asked, a smirk crossing her red lips. She cast her eyes between John and your sleeping figure, hinting as to what she was meaning. 

“I am.” He responded. Dottie noticed his softened gaze when he looked towards you. She glanced back down at your face, wiping your skin with the washcloth gently. Your brow bone contained a nasty laceration and your cheekbone held a nice bruise with a cut as well. There was also a gash on your bottom lip, and your left eye held a hefty black bruise. That man really got ahold of you. 

“They're a good family. I know Francesco means well,” Dot murmured, “Speaking of, have you let them know?” John watched as the woman stood up and walked to the bathroom retrieving a fresh bowl of water for your face. 

“I called Francesco shortly after we arrived here.” The dark haired man spoke. He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning towards your figure. He brushed away a few strands of hair that had fallen in your face. His thumb caressed your cheek afterwords, carefully avoiding the wounds that donned your skin. He felt your body stir, and a quiet groan escape your lips as you started to wake up. Dot walked back into the room, noting Johns figure looming over your own. A little smirk crossed her lips as she set the bowl down on the nightstand. You peeked your eyes open for a second, wincing at the brightness of the room. 

“Good afternoon, sleepy.” Dottie smiled, sitting beside your figure again. “Careful.” She murmured, watching as you shifted to sit up a little better. You knew Dottie was next to you, but could feel the weight of somebody on your other side. A large hand quietly placed itself on the side of your arm and you looked to see who it belonged to.

“How do you feel?” John’s words were gently spoken. His fingers squeezed your arm slightly before he released. 

“M-my throat hurts.” Your voice came out scratchy and withered sounding. Dottie quickly placed a cool glass of water into your palms, hers then wrapping around yours before releasing entirely. You gave her the best smile you could manage, due to your cuts, before sipping the drink. John stood up from the bed and made a comment about going to grab pain medicine before he exited your bedroom. 

“I'm going to wake up June.” Dottie spoke, walking over to her sleeping position by the window. You blinked your eyes, feeling the pain from the cuts, and groaned silently. It was stupid of you to think you could take on both of them. Your training with John was going fine, you figured if you at least got one down… No matter, at least you were still alive. The footsteps of your two friends caught your attention as the girls returned to your side. June immediately began to gush over how happy she was you were awake and okay, hugging you tightly. 

“We thought you were a goner.” The girl whispered, worry still evident in her tone. You raised your brows but winced as the sting from the cut became overwhelming. 

“I'm glad John showed up when he did. Like a superhero. He stood there with his gun and you should've seen the animalistic look in his eye.” Dottie sighed dreamily, “You are one lucky girl.” 

“I know about your ‘no dating’ rule, however, I don't think you should let this one get away.” June commented quietly, brushing some hair from your face. Dot agreed, shaking her head vigorously. The three of you cut the conversation short as John's footsteps echoed closer. He entered the room quietly and padded over to the bed, handing you a bottle of painkillers. Your fingers brushed as the container was passed and you felt a longing for the touch to remain; however just as the warmth arrived, it left. 

——————

June and Dottie stayed over for another hour before leaving. They helped you change your clothes and settle in for the night before they left you in the capable hands of John. The two of you remained in your bedroom the rest of the evening. You went in and out of sleep a few times. One time, you woke to the man humming quietly while sitting in bed next to your figure. Another, he was checking your bandages and cleaning the sheen of sweat from your skin. Maybe what June said is right, you can’t let John get away. Nobody has cared for you like he has. But that begged the question, would he even want to be with you? You’re half his age and apart of a mafia family. Plus, you still don't know much about him; his past, his home life, etc. He is a mysterious being, quiet too. It only made you want to know more.

“John?” You murmured, gathering the strength to sit up. It was late evening now, just past eight. The summer sun had just set, leaving a gray tone to cover the space. 

“Yes?” He answered, turning to face you. He had been sitting at your desk, cleaning his gun. 

“Parlami di te.” ‘[Tell me about yourself.]’ The man responded to your request by putting down the parts in his hand. He then quietly cleaned his fingers of grime before standing up and padding over to you, but not sitting. 

“What would you like to know?” He murmured. You studied his face for a moment, taking in the features he donned. His normally combed hair was disheveled now and he had bags under his eyes. He wore a suit and shoes too, obviously still dressed for work. 

“Everything.” You replied, ignoring the throb of pain that coursed through your body. John nodded, then loosened the tie from his around neck. He shed off his suit jacket next, leaving him in a black button up and vest on top. You admired his figure in the darkening room. He stood tall, confident, maybe a little tired, but didn't let it show much. The man settled on the edge of your bed, by your feet. The room remained silent for a few moments; you not daring to speak, and John taking the time to gather his thoughts. 

“I was married.” John’s voice was so soft, you had to lean towards him to hear better. The man kept his gaze towards his hands, fidgeting with his fingers. 

“Was?” You asked, pushing aside the slight feeling of jealousy that rose. 

“She- she passed due to an illness years back.” The bodyguard paused.

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” You let out quietly, as to not bother John’s story process. 

“I was retired and wanted to live my days as a widower, however I was dragged back into the business by an old friends’ idiot son.” The man sighed, pushing some fallen hair behind his ear. You caught a glimpse at how sad he appeared, and felt an urge to comfort him. Pain shot through your body as you scooted down the bed until you were close enough to John. You grabbed his hand and his fingers instinctively intertwined with your own, making you realize just how large his palms actually were. It felt right, his hand being wrapped with your own. 

“Ever since then, I haven't left the business again. I see no point. I can't seem to leave anyways, I keep getting dragged back in.” He sighed heavily and you began to rub your thumb along his hand, as your way of comforting him. He fell silent, but you didn't push anymore questions just yet. He was being open and raw, which was probably difficult for the man to do. If he wanted to tell his story, he would. You wanted to know more, obviously, about the kind of work he's done; his jobs, the people he’s met, and if he knew anyone in your family. You wanted to know why the man was so troubled, and why it seemed everybody is against him. 

“Will you stay with me tonight?” Your voice escaped softly, barely above a whisper. John's hand squeezed your own, before he finally made eye contact with you. His dark gaze caused a chill to slither down your spine.

“Yes.” He spoke softly, “I need to go change.” He gave your hand one last squeeze before removing it and standing up. You watched as his figure walked across your room and disappeared behind the door. It only took him about five minutes before he returned, ready for bed. Sure, it was barely nine, but you figured you could put on a movie. You drank in the sight of him, admiring his pajamas. Blue with plaid stripes, and a plain white t-shirt. You’ve never seen him in anything but a suit, nevermind the sweatsuit outfit from when you train. This is different than that, this is a side of John that doesn't say ‘Hey, i'm a killer!’ This side is domestic; make you coffee and toast in the morning domestic. 

“Would you like to watch a movie?” You then asked, watching him tidy up his mess from cleaning his gun, which he didn't finish. 

“Sure.” He responded, walking over and climbing onto the bed next to your figure. You turned on your TV, and picked a movie from a streaming service, before fully settling in. You scoot your body close enough to John’s that you were able to lay your head on his chest. The man wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you even closer, but gently as to not cause you more pain. You listened to his heartbeat as it slowed to a resting rhythm, and then closed your eyes letting sleep overcome your senses.

--

Masterlist

[crimson-rose15]

Until Dawn - Chapter 1

(A/N): So...I haven’t figured out a day that I’ll update this story on each week, so as of right now, it’ll be updated sometime each weekend (Hopefully. I may miss a week sometime within the upcoming months because I may--MAY--be going to visit some friends in Reno, Nevada. If I do? then check out my Instagram (crimson_rose15) cause I’ll most definitely be uploading pictures and stuff if I do end up going (it would be the first thing I ever do by myself without my family if I do it, including getting on a plane by myself, and it’s both terrifying and exciting to think about, not gonna lie), but if I don’t go? then I’ll keep you guys updated on both this story, and what may or may not happen ^_^)

Also, here’s the Prologue if you haven’t read it.

Now; let’s get into the story, shall we?

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

John was jolted awake tat the feel of someone gently shaking his arm, gasping softly as his eyes all but snapped open, looking over at the driver of the vehicle he was in, seeing the soft, sideways smile Jaren gave him in apology for waking him up so suddenly.

“Sorry if I scared you,” Jaren spoke, focusing on the road as he slowed the vehicle down, turning off the highway onto a dirt road, “But we’re basically there; I didn’t want you to miss how beautiful it looks with all the snow on the trees. It looks like something out of a painting or something.”

“As long as I don’t have to go on any nature hikes, I’ll be good,“ John spoke, sleep lacing his voice even as he tried to will himself to stay awake, “Maybe I’ll be able to finish my nap. Haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

“Well, hopefully this vacation will help with that,” Jaren chuckled, “Even if neither of us have been here before.”

“Why did we agree to come here again?”

“Because all of us wanted to take a break and hang out. Plus you needed to get out of your house, that’s why.”

“I didn’t agree to taking a break in a cabin on a mountain in the middle of nowhere. Jason Vorhees could be lurking around ready to kill us for all we know.”

“First of all, it’s not Friday, and second, Friday will not be on the thirteenth of this month. Jason couldn’t come after us even if he wanted to.”

John huffed out a laugh, leaning his head against the window, watching the trees as they drove by them, feeling his eyes beginning to close yet again. He felt so tired...

“Hey, keep your eyes open,” Jaren spoke softly, not wanting to sour John’s mood, “We’re almost there, remember?”

“I don’t care,” John spoke, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he shifted into a more comfortable position, closing his eyes as he started to go back to sleep, “If I’m tired, I’m gonna sleep. My sleep cycle is fucked as it is. What harm will taking a nap do?”

“I brought some melatonin with me if you wanna use it,” Jaren spoke, glancing at John, and then returning his focus to the road, “It’s non-addictive, and actually helps me sleep at night. Maybe it’ll help you, if you don’t look at your phone all night long.”

“My phone is my second best friend,” John spoke, his eyes still closed, “You even think about taking it away from me, and I’ll hide it in a place that you wouldn’t dare to go searching for it.”

“I already know you’d stuff it in your pants to keep anyone from taking it,” Jaren spoke, chuckling nervously, “As disturbing of an image as that may be...”

“No one told you that you had to imagine what I got down there,” John answered, smirking as he opened his eyes, giving a sideways look at Jaren, “Unless you actually wanted to see what--”

“Nope!” Jaren spoke quickly, cutting him off, shaking his head ‘no’, “Nope nope nope! We are not gonna talk about that subject, John!”

John chuckled, sitting up straight, knowing that he wasn’t gonna be able to get back to sleep even if he wanted to at that point, looking out the front window, his eyes widening slightly as he took in everything;

Jaren was right; it was beautiful to look at. The snow on the trees and on the mountains in the distance looked like something you could only find in professionally-taken pictures...

That’s when John shuddered, narrowing his eyes at the troubling thought that entered his mind, closing his eyes as he tried to will the thought away.

“They don’t know what happened,” John thought, opening his eyes again, looking at the dashboard of the vehicle, “And they can’t find out, either. They won’t understand why...why I’m...”

“John? you okay?” Jaren asked, his eyes narrowed in concern, “You look...scared. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” John spoke, looking away, out the passenger window, “Just thinking about something is all. There’s no need to be concerned, it’s not that important of a thought. Okay?”

“Okay...” Jaren spoke, knowing that something was up despite John telling him not to worry, “I’m here to talk if you need to, alright?”

John hummed in agreement, letting out a soft sigh as he calmed himself down, pulling his phone out of his pocket, looking down at the screen, his expression turning disappointed as he saw that he had no bars on his phone.

“Dammit. No internet.”

“All the more reason to not use your phone either than to take pictures while we’re on vacation,” Jaren spoke, the conversation turning into a comfortable silence not long after those words left his mouth, John putting his phone away and leaning slightly back against his seat, watching the twists and turns of the road, thankful that Jaren didn’t speed up despite it being clear of snow and potholes.

He wasn’t a fan of going off the road by accident because of not knowing what was around the corner. Dirt roads were not like paved roads, and he was thankful that Jaren understood that.

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

About twenty minutes later, they came into sight of a rather large cabin, huge windows in the front, a wrap-around balcony for the second floor with a wrap-around porch on the first floor, six vehicles sitting out front of the cabin.

“We’re here,” Jaren announced, finding a place to park before shutting the car off, “I’m happy we aren’t the first ones here, to be honest. I wouldn’t know what to do if we had to wait.”

“Well...” John spoke, trailing off deliberately, Jaren glaring at him as he did, “I’m kidding, Jaren. Unless you actually--”

Jaren didn’t let him finish, opening his door before getting out, closing it behind him, opening the door to the back seat, grabbing his suitcase quickly before closing the door to the back seat, walking off towards the cabin, leaving John who was still in the car, laughing at how the Omega had reacted.

“Worth a shot,” John spoke to himself before getting out, closing his door before opening the door on his side to the back seat before grabbing his own suitcase, closing the car door before catching up with Jaren, who had waited for him next to the front door of the cabin before the two of them headed inside.

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

(A/N): ...I broke my promise on updating each week...I’m sorry if I made anyone mad at me...I swear that I’m trying my hardest when it comes to this story...

Anyways; how was this for a first chapter? was it good? bad? meh? (Any and all feedback is welcome, by the way. I don’t bite, I promise lol (Also; sorry if this chapter seems a bit rushed. I don’t mean to make it seem that way, and I have no excuse if it does seem that way. I’ll work hard to make sure that chapter 2 doesn’t seem rushed, I swear it.))

Love all my Readers!

[thecstripaddict]

August 12, 2020- Wednesday

Thus far I haven’t stuck with my posting schedule at alllll. I keep saying I’ll get to it, and I will. Eventually. I started a Wattpad up and I only have one chapter posted, but I’ll be uploading another one tomorrow.

My Wattpad is: whenidiecallmelovely

I’d love for you to check it out but until then, here’s chapter 1 of my novel.

CHAPTER ONE:

The night was warm, the still air thick with smog. And even though it was now officially September, the heat would remain for at least another week or two. No light illuminated the street, and the sun had set hours ago, giving way to a dark quiet evening. We jogged along in a comfortable silence, content just to finally be spending some time together. Since Royal started his college classes he hardly ever has free time, which means I rarely see my brother any more.

"How's Diego?" Royal asks, lips curved into a smirk.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I pant, struggling to keep my tone even.

"You little liar. I heard all about it from-"

"No!" I gasp. "That little twit. Micah told you?"

"No. But now I'm going to beat the crap out of him for not mentioning it," he laughs.

Realizing I walked right into his trap I pull up short and lean forward panting.

"Dang you Royal. Sometimes I hate you."

"No you don't. Now hurry up or you'll ruin my time."

I start running again rolling my eyes and shove him when I catch up.

"We're not dating though."

"Good."

I huff, pretending to be annoyed but really, inside, I'm thrilled he cares so much. He always does. He's the only one. A few minutes pass in silence before I speak up again.

"Thanks."

"No problem kid."

No grand words were ever spoken by my brother. But his actions say volumes. It is something admire about him.

"Love you too dweeb," I mumble with a snicker.

The street begins to curve out of sight and I fall back a pace letting Royal lead. A faint sound behind us catches my brother's attention but I ignore it.

"Aster-" is all he says before lunging and roughly shoving me into the brush bordering the street.

Then I see the car. Never slowing, as my brother tries to move. One misstep to his left and the metal collides with flesh. Seventy miles is a conservative guess, and as amazing as the human body is, it is not meant to withstand a collision with two tons of glass and metal. His body flies through the air, achieving almost impressive height and distance. The squeal of protesting brakes echos through the silent air as his body finally gives way to gravity and crashes back to earth.

The crunch of bones is unmistakable. And even if he survived impact, the injuries he just sustained will kill him by morning. Blood leaks slowly and then picks up, pooling on the ground around him as the woman exits the vehicle calling out to him. Calling out as though he could have survived. Calling out as though she didn't just kill him. Fumbling, body shaky with panic nearing hysteria, she reaches for her phone. Moves out of habit to unlock it, presses the wrong digit, tries again. Finally, able, her fingers push 911, as the only person within a mile walks out his business across the street. He shouts a question, but is met with no answer. The emergency is relayed but even the best of efforts are pointless. One look at the my brother's broken body and you just know: he's dead.

And where am I? Still crumpled in the brush which lies twisted beneath my body. I can't tear my eyes away from Royal. There's a lot of blood. I see something else in the shadows; I don't want to acknowledge what. The woman screams at me but I don't hear her words. I just stare at the cement and wonder how long the stain will last. Wonder if anyone will see it and ask themselves what happened.

He saved me. The thought finally emerges out of the chaos and then I feel everything. The brief chilling cold of shock is gone and I'm painfully aware of every detail.

"No," I whisper. "No no no."

Five minutes ago life as okay, good even. Now-

I struggle to get to my feet, oblivious to the small cuts littering my skin. Turning I take in to woman who just murdered my best friend. She is older, around sixty of I had to guess, maybe older. She's restless, mumbling to herself but she avoids looking at what she did. Avoids acknowledging what she did. She won't give my brother respect.

***

I don't know how much time has passed. A week, maybe two, it doesn't matter anyway. He's still gone. The church is packed full, family and close friends seated in the front, school acquaintances in the back. I hover, just barely inside the room, observing. There is not one dry eye. And then my gaze lands on my grandparents.

How dare they come. How dare they sit there and weep as though they ever had a nice thing to say about him. How dare they pretend. The image although graphic, is necessary. Accusations fly from my mouth, whispered remarks directed at my blood and kin. Not a single one is coherent but that doesn't stop me. The truth is the guilt is eating me alive. I should be dead, not Royal. Out of the two of us, I deserved it.

And these are the thoughts that prompt my tears. Once they begin, I cannot stop them. I grab a tissue from the table next to me. One single tissue, to dry up an ocean of tears. So, I prioritize and wipe the snot from my face, leaving the tears to dry in salty stained tracks on my skin. I'm not ashamed to cry for him. He was a good man, not without his faults, but good.

Just before the venomous anger pierces my heart, I feel empty. And as wrong as it is, I would rather feel anger than empty. So, I settle on the anger and let it boil. Not a dull simmer, but a rolling boil, until it overflows and my nostrils flare and I want to hurt someone. No not just someone, but her. The one responsible for my pain and anguish. If she felt what I felt, she would know to be sorry.

My mother insisted that of course she was sorry. Any decent person would be. And besides she has to live with the guilt for the rest of her life; perhaps that is punishment enough. I agree, in part, but what decent person does something like this? We've all driven too fast, my mother placated. My response that, yes, but you've never killed anyone did nothing to sway her. Every action has consequences, she reminded me, even if at the time you are not sure what they may be.

I mulled over this, in a dim and biased light for several minutes before deciding, fine, she's right. But I was still mad. Still hurt. The ceremony finally moved out to the cemetery. A slight breeze ruffled everyone's hair as I mumbled along to the Lord's Prayer. The words failed me and my heart seized.

This is so freaking wrong. It'll always be wrong now.

I watched, disgusted, as my grandparents slipped Mom some cash. Guilt money. Because now they can never apologize. Not that they ever really planned to before. Eventually we begin to leave, but I am irritable and forlorn still. For my supposed friends I tried to smile and laugh, but my despair rots my insides.

I can't feel any reassurance. I feel quite simply, like I screwed something up. Missed a divine opportunity. Some sort of malpractice in the field of being human.

I had assumed he would be a permanent fixture in my life. Compulsively I grab my phone and pull up the article. An aerial picture of the road and there's the blood. I stare and then close the window. Letting out a shaky breath I slip my phone back into my pocket and step away from the mass of people.

"Aster."

I tense at Diego's voice and turn slowly.

"What?"

I don't apologize for my sharp tone. I'm tired of apologizing. I don't care if he deserves it or not.

"I'm sorry I-"

"Sorry doesn't do crap, Diego. Sorry doesn't bring him back."

He looks hurt. How dare he. Does he not know how I feel. The anguish. I want him -I want everyone- to feel my pain. I want them to revel in it and feel the all consuming hatred. I want them to die carrying the weight of it all.

"Sorry isn't enough. Because I'm sorry too."

Evidently I'll always be sorry. Aster, the sorry excuse of a human.

[hxlding-on-blog]

085 with peter b and eddie brock?

Fluffy Prompts: 085: “It’s 2 am but you’re craving cake and we’re both up anyway so let’s bake in our underwear.”

They’ve spent a good half hour trying to put the report together, grouping pictures side-by-side with words. Since making their own reporting website, they’ve found better work. It was their own little business, every click a bit of ad revenue. And though the truth was hard to find sometimes, they got out of their ways to make sure it was somewhere other people could find it. Once it was uploaded, Peter leaning in his spot of the couch a bit more as Eddie had his arms around him, they shared a lazy celebratory kiss.

Peter glanced at the clock in the corner of his screen, yawned, and allowed his head to lean on the other’s shoulder. Venom slithered from Eddie’s other shoulder, a string of themselves going up from his neck to allow them to comfortably sit on top of Peter’s head. The more and more time Peter spent with Eddie, the more comfortable Venom got with this, essentially feeding off of this love and affection Eddie felt whenever around him. 

“Y’know, little buddy, I’m not sure what you’re doing in there but, whatever it is, it’s making me hungry for some cake.” He pat his womb, where their child was, and pouted a bit. Neither of them expected this to happen, with Peter thinking he was infertile the moment he had his first shot of T, but- accident or not- they were going to raise this child with all they could. “Hey, guys, lets go bake some.”

It’s only been five weeks, with Peter throwing up in the morning every day and his constantly changing cravings, but Eddie and Venom were already taking to the pregnancy pretty well. In fact, teaching Venom about it was one of their pastimes. Neither of them knew enough about it to really teach them about it but, with a quick google search and the experience to back up the claims, the symbiote was starting to learn. 

Whatever the effects of having radioactive spider-power blood and an alien symbiote in your body were to a child, they didn’t have a clue. All they knew was that it was fine, and that they didn’t need to mention anything about it. So long as the baby was going to be fine in the end, they didn’t see any reason to mention the little…supernatural things that might get in the way. 

“Peter, it’s two in the morning. Are you sure?” Eddie’s head leaned a bit on Peter’s, arm moving to rest over his shoulder. He knew a thing or two about helping others in these situations, just a bit more than Peter- though, it’d be better if Peter had his own little experience to help himself- knowing enough that his morning sickness may strike somewhere soon.

“Yup. Come on, Eddie. V, help me get him up.” Peter stood up, stretched his back out, and pulled the other up by the arms. Venom didn’t do much; they simply observed from Eddie’s shoulder. When he was on his own feet, Peter made his way to the kitchen, dragging Eddie along. “If you won’t help, I’ll make it myself. That’s right, little guy, dad’s gonna get this cake done on his own without the help of his other husbands.” 

Again, Peter pat where their child was. He could handle things on his own; the doctor only warned him to avoid certain foods and to do certain things when he felt this or that. Nothing out of the ordinary that would get him to not be able to do the usual, except for putting a pause on the Spiderman business. That, sadly, was something Peter had to sacrifice for a while; once this human being was out of his body and he’s had the time to adjust, he could get back to swinging around New York.

“Oh, fine, fine.” His human husband gave in, pulling out the cake mix from the cupboard and lifting it towards the symbiote riding his shoulder to allow them the chance to observe it. It got Peter to chuckle, reminding him of ratatouille. Eddie opened up the box, placing the plastic bag of the mix on the counter as he unknowingly placed the box into the trash. It took Venom looking back to remind him that they indeed weren’t done with it. “Oh, shit. Right.”

“Hey, not in front of the kid.” Again, he chuckled, giving Eddie a soft slap with the back of his hand to Eddie’s unoccupied shoulder. It was a joke, Eddie knew well, but Venom watched with a look of confusion. They still didn’t understand much about this.

{| THEY CANNOT HEAR YOU. THEY ARE TOO YOUNG AND, TO MY UNDERSTANDING, HAVE NOT DEVELOPED THE ABILITY TO UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU’VE SAID |}

He probably shouldn’t have but Peter laughed, Eddie chuckling soon after as he gave a pat to the symbiote’s ‘head’, fishing out the box with the ingredients and the instructions. Thankfully, there was nothing within the trash that would’ve hindered it useless. Eddie tried to fish for something to help, but it wasn’t easy. “Yeah, we know. It’s like a fun little joke, y’know?”

And, hell, maybe their kid could hear them. They’re the product of Spiderman, Venom, and the world’s greatest reporter; Peter wouldn’t be too surprised if they popped out the womb with the full ability to speak. It’s almost expected, really. How far could they keep this up without mentioning it to their doctor?

Eddie got two eggs out, balancing them on the counter and making sure they wouldn’t roll off to the floor. When that was settled, he got out a measuring cup. Peter, on the other hand, prepared a cake tin, a plastic bowl, and a wooden spoon. As Eddie was measuring out a cup and a half of water, Peter got to dumping all of the mix into the bowl. A dust cloud of it got in his nose, Peter coughing out with a laugh.

He coughed into his fist, Eddie noticing and placing the cup to the side so that he could come over to help. But Peter stuck out his free hand, laughing off the little incident. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Get back to filling that cup. Do we need to preheat the oven?”

The other shrugged it off, Venom watching Peter as Eddie gestured over to the box on the counter, making sure that he wasn’t going to get injured. It took a moment for Peter to remember how the oven worked at all- he sat there, kneeled down in front of it for a while- and turned the knobs according to package instructions. 

Everything was going a lot smoother than the last time they baked anything, with nothing burning just yet. Then again, they haven’t gotten anything mixed just yet. Peter cracked the two eggs into the bowl, taking a wooden spoon out of a little cup and stirring as Eddie poured in the water. As he poured the batter into the tin, he hesitated halfway. It felt like they were missing something but, without knowing what it was, he didn’t bother to stop.

“Okay. Last thing is to just put it in, right?” Eddie itched at the back of his head, Peter reading the back of the box again just to be sure. Yup, this was it. All they had to do left was stick it in the oven and wait for a while. So, Eddie took the tin and knelt down, Venom trailing towards his back to observe Peter’s stomach. Or, actually, his womb. Not much to see now, really.

But, with Eddie like this, Peter took this as a chance to let his splayed hand slap Eddie across the ass. He jolted a bit in the surprise but wasn’t at all mad about it, shaking his head and closing the appliance before getting up and giving Peter a few playful slaps to the chest. “Hey, hey! Not in front of the kid!” 

Again, Venom found this odd, but didn’t question it. Instead, they observed where the offspring was supposed to be. It didn’t move, or make a sound, or anything else; it was simply there. They knew it was alive in there but it was really hard to think of a reason as to why they’d ever talk directly to it, or even think it was listening.

But Venom didn’t mind all that much; they were just as excited as the other two were about the child.

“Hey, while we wait, want to think of baby names?” Peter leaned against the counter again, one leg over the other with a hand over his stomach as the other kept his weight up on the marble. The other two agreed that it’d be a nice pastime, listing off the generic names and having fun with it. At this point, with the two of them holding each other in the living room, they weren’t trying all that much.

“Okay, okay. How about…Lee.”

“Wait, just Lee? Like, earlier you said Optimus Prime. And then you said Toaster. Then you said Pumba.”

“Well, duh; imagine his school ID. Brock, Lee.” Peter let out a hearty laugh, Eddie soon joining after as Venom was quietly observing the two of them. It was dumb, yeah, but they seemed happy. The symbiote fed off of that love and care, enjoying it overall.

“You want our kid to get bullied?” It was simply the nature of Spiderman- of Peter Brock-Parker- to be witty and comical. Eddie couldn’t do much, if anything at all, to change this; it somewhat charmed him. “You’re insane, Peter.”

Then, there was the burning smell. It came from the kitchen and the two of them knew instantly what it was; they’d forgotten about the cake. They got off each other, stumbling their way inside to open the oven and Peter quickly got the window open to try and get the little bit of smoke out. “Yeah, I’m a bit insane. But I wasn’t the one who was supposed to remind me of the cake.”

No big deal- they’ve eaten worse. But, to their dismay, the realised a missed step; they didn’t coat the tin in anything to avoid the cake from sticking to it. So, when Eddie pulled it out of the oven and fanned away the fumes, he nervously laughed by Peter’s side. They could eat it straight from the tin, that wouldn’t be an issue, but now it looked unappealing.

“So, are you craving anything else or is it still cake?”

[lookastarlightnight-blog]

Can’t Cover Up

[Admin Lyric: Damn, sorry that I haven’t uploaded anything in awhile. My sister (Admin Ummie) and our family are in the midst of moving so we’ve been real busy for a few months. I actually have a few fanfictions that are done but just need to be revised so I’ll try to get them up as soon as I can. Thank you for understanding. I hope that its good because I typed this at like 3 am one morning. This is inspired by one of Taeyeon’s songs Cover Up.]

Characters: Mark, Taeyong, Yukhei/ Lucas, Doyoung, Jaehyun

Genre: Fluff, Angst? (Mark needs a hug)

Word Count: 4,400+

Warnings: Language (not much)

Mark was scared, no, more like terrified. What was he supposed to do? Keep it to himself? Not the best idea when the thought was eating away at his brain cells. He needed to tell someone, if not everyone. What would they say? The mere thought of telling everyone about it made him feel nauseous. How was he supposed to put in words that he had the most biggest, enormous, gayest crush on Taeyong? Would they think he was disgusting? He hoped not.

Mark has had a crush on Taeyong since as long as he could remember. The crush only started out as admiration towards the elder, thinking he looked cool and the way he portrayed his stage presence made him look up to Taeyong. This eventually turned into him watching NCT stages (mainly Taeyong focuses) on his phone without anyone knowing. Basically this turned into an obsession with him watching Taeyong on stage. Lastly this turned into him staring at him from afar, blushing easily when they were close to each other. That’s when he knew he had a crush on him but it’s been like a whole year since he realized it and it’s only gotten worse.

It’s hard for Mark to even physical be around him without him getting nervous and anxious. He always tried to make sure he was around others when Taeyong was in the room with him. The only one who knew about his crush was Doyoung. He had known since he saw Mark’s watch history on YouTube filled with Taeyong fancams. He eventually asked Mark about it and he cried being afraid he was gonna tell someone. Doyoung assured him he wouldn’t tell anyone without asking first.

Skipping ahead, NCT U was about to fly to Ukraine to film there music video for Boss, their upcoming comeback with 2 new debuting members. Mark had always been a little afraid of flying so he took the opportunity to sit next to Johnny for some “comfortableness,” he’d never admit that to him though. Luck wasn’t really on his side today considering the fact Ten was going with them which means he would have to sit near someone else, cause Ten tends to whine if he doesn’t get to sit near him. And he also found out last minute Ten was going to be in a sub unit with Taeyong.

Not that he was mad or anything…but that’s exactly what he was saying. Why wasn’t he in the sub-unit with Taeyong? Although he was pretty sure he’d pass out due to extreme exhaustion and probably avoid him, but none the less, couldn’t he have got an option to do it with him anyway? He was sure that someone had planned this. As much as he tried to avoid him, he still wanted to have Taeyong’s full attention on only him. At that thought Mark sighed, running his fingers through his hair out of frustration. Was he really that selfish? To have one of his hyungs ignore the other members because of his own infatuation, was beyond his imagination. Why would he think something like that? He closed his eyes and tilted his head up towards the sky. It was snowing. He felt delicate snowflakes fall and melt onto his lukewarm skin, coloring his eyelashes a pretty white. His lips curved upward at the thought of being able to expand and broaden his verses on the airplane with the soothing feel of the way the snow fell lightly on to the ground, covering it like a blanket.

He opened his eyes and looked at the snowflakes falling from the sky, drifting towards his face. They reminded him of Taeyong. Bright, vibrant, captivating, free. He was just…perfect. Why must he make him act so dumb? He would just stand there and Mark would get all hot and start blushing when he looked at him. His sharp yet soft doe like eyes, long eyelashes, autumn red hair that pared perfectly with his gorgeous sun kissed skin. His beautiful carved nose, sexy chiseled jawline and perfectly shaped lips, ah, those lips. He’s definitely thought of kissing his lips more then he could count on both of his hands. His personality adorned his looks perfectly. So patient and loving yet reassuring and logical. His aura was so relaxing. He’d do whatever it was to make you in a better mood even if he wasn’t in one himself. He was so selfless. That’s what he loved most about Taeyong.

He shook his head. Think of something else. You need to act astray when it comes to your feelings. Why are you so weak? He sighed again. He missed Vancouver. He didn’t have to think and do so much there. It was a lot easier for to him to get things done without constant thoughts of over excursion to his body. He tilted his head back down and sighed again to only realize everyone was outside already, waiting for their manager. He hadn’t noticed Taeyong’s piercing gaze burning holes into his forehead or more like he tried to avoid it. Jaehyun had said something to Mark in plain English, but with Taeyong staring at him so intensely, made him forget how to speak.

“Huh?” Jaehyun rolled his eyes.

“I had asked you if you were okay. You looked lost in thought.” Mark’s eyes widened. Had he not been mindful to not cover up his feelings today? He’d been so good with keeping his stress, worries and depression down in the abyss of his distorted mind. With every unit coming back within the month put a lot of stress on him, but he didn’t want anyone to notice. He didn’t know what to say to him. He wasn’t gonna say he’s fine because Jaehyun’s a hawk, he’d know if he was lying.

Jaehyun sighed. It was practically written on his forehead. STRESS. He could see it. Mentally but mostly physically. Mark had lost some weight since they started their diets again but it was worse then their last comeback. He was just worried. He patted Mark’s head and smiled crookedly.

“Don’t overwork yourself. If you’re tired, say so. I don’t want you to die because you’re not healthy.” Jaehyun had a frown on his face. If only he had known the real causes of Mark’s spacing out and stress. Mark was used to the overly packed schedule. It didn’t bother him that much anymore. He was still worried about it, but that wasn’t the main cause of all of his problems. It was Taeyong. The same Lee Taeyong that had watched over Mark, made sure he was okay and wasn’t over doing it in practice. The same Lee Taeyong that had comforted him when he was home sick and crying about missing his family. The same Lee Taeyong that he was head over heels for. He was still staring at him after all which didn’t make the situation any better. Mark just coughed and smiled at Jaehyun.

“I’ll be fine hyung, I promise I won’t cause any harm to myself.” Jaehyun grinned widely and gave Mark a pat on his back.

“Good.” Jaehyun beamed and walked away. Mark sighed heavy. He just wanted to go back to the dorm and sleep.

Everyone arrived at the airport not long after the manager came outside. Mark had been listening to music the whole time, zoning out, skipping songs that reminded him of… that someone. He wanted to feel normal again. Sometimes he wished he never found out about his feelings for him, maybe he’d be able to be around him and not feel the need to run away. Maybe he’d be more at ease, maybe- Someone pulled out one of his ear buds. He jumped. It was Yukhei.

“Mark, we gotta go.” Mark looked at everyone walking away from him and slightly jogged up to the rest of them. He bumped into a guy taking pictures of the rest of the members and fell straight onto his ass. You’ve gotta be kidding me. He just carelessly walked into someone and is now being trampled over? It hurt like hell. People touching him, not regularly but inappropriately, trying to get his attention, people yelling in his face. He tried to get up only to fall back down again due to the amount of fans around him. He felt a pair of hands around his waist and internally screamed from being scared it was a saesang fan. He was indeed wrong, it was Taeyong.

He helped him up off the ground and pulled Mark towards him, putting both his hands on either side of his shoulders out of protection. Taeyong gave the crowd of people a dirty look and pulled Mark closer to himself. If looks could kill, they’d probably be dead by now. Why did he help Mark if he was no where near him when walking through the airport? Mark hadn’t dared to ask, afraid to make Taeyong upset any further. He kept his question to his self. Taeyong didn’t say anything, trying to get his mind off of the people who almost hurt Mark.

As soon as they were out of the paparazzi’s sight, Taeyong moved his gaze to Mark and started to search his face and his body. Mark yelped as his hands went straight under his shirt. What was he doing!?

“You’re not hurt anywhere right?” Mark gave no answer and pushed Taeyong’s hands away. He looked up at him since he was kneeling. Mark blushed, a light rosy pink dusted his cheeks as he looked away.

“I’m fine hyung. D-don’t worry about what hap-“

“No.” Mark looked at Taeyong through his peripheral vision and frayed his eyebrows together. Taeyong sighed and stood up. “I’m not gonna just forget about-“

“Hyung I’m okay. I wouldn’t lie t-to you.” Why do I keep stuttering? I know he’s beautiful but I need to keep my composure. Taeyong nodded slowly and frowned. He opened his mouth to say something but their manager called for him. Mark was grateful for that. Did he have some type of luck today even if it’s tiny? He wondered. Did Doyoung tell their manager!? No he wouldn’t, why would he? He was probably over analyzing it, he had been over analyzing things a lot lately. He sighed.

Everyone was eventually on the plane, Mark sat by himself in the back listening to music like he always did and working on his studies. He did still go to school so he had to make sure he was on top of things that involved it. He’d been falling off a bit, no one actually realized but himself. He needed to concentrate, but Taeyong is taking up his mind and is causing him to stall. He closed his laptop and tilted his head back on the seat. Get a hold of yourself! If you don’t now you’ll hurt yourself! No one can do it for you Mark! He started to get a headache from arguing with himself. He needed to throw whatever doubts and distractions he had out the window and finish his studies or he’ll end up falling behind. Mark really just wanted to go back to Canada.

They ended up in Ukraine not that long after getting on the plane. Only cause Mark fell asleep it went really fast. He was disappointed in himself for falling asleep and not finishing his work, but with his pact schedule who wouldn’t fall asleep? Their manager had explained to them that there was only 4 rooms so someone would have to share a room with him and the rest split off in to twos. Mark had a mini panic attack and almost had to excuse himself to the bathroom when their manager said that he picked the arrangements for the rooming situation. He knew that their manager would room him and Taeyong together. Doyoung looked at Mark, fear had slapped him in the face. He put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and leaned close to him.

“You’re rooming with Xuxi, I made sure manager hyung didn’t question me about why you guys should be in a room together. I mean you guys are the same age.” Mark breathed out a heavy sigh he didn’t know he was holding and smiled.

“Thanks hyung.”

“No problem, I got you.” Doyoung winked. Mark hit him slightly on his arm and laughed when he pouted. He walked to the hotel room with Yukhei, talking about some random anime he watched, he started to feel drowsy. He was used to jet lag and him constantly feeling tired but he felt drained, lifeless even. He didn’t do much that day but his internal battles had been making him feel like this. He started to drown out Yukhei, not on purpose, but due to his head pounding and lack of focus. Mark pushed the door open and flopped down on the queen sized mattress closest to him. He sighed and closed his eyes and put his arm over his face. Not a headache, migraine. He rubbed his eyes with his fists and yawned. Why was he so exhausted? He started dosing off. The mattress was so soft, comfort hugged him, inviting him in to a deep slumber. His body felt heavy, he was almost-

“Mark! You cant just fall asleep on me like that!” Mark jerked up quickly. Yukhei’s voice was loud. He stretched and yawned again.

“Sorry bro.” Yukhei gave Mark a serious look and sat next to him. Mark was started feeling nervous. Yukhei rarely ever got serious.

“Okay, spill. What’s been bothering you? Or more like who’s been bothering you.” Mark was taken back. What makes him think he’s not fine? Well he’s really not fine but he’s not telling him that. He didn’t say anything. Yukhei sighed and shook his head.

“Mark, I’m not gonna tell anyone!” Yukhei laughed. Mark turned his head in his direction and shushed him.

“Be quite! Someone might hear you!” He half whispered half yelled. Yukhei rolled his eyes and just stared at Mark till he said something. Mark sighed and pulled his knees up to his chest and put face in his lap.

“Well… How can I be sure I can trust your judgment!?”

“Mark, Doyoung hyung told me to switch rooms with Taeyong hyung. He was supposed to be in here with you and I was supposed to be with Jaehyun hyung. I know it has to do with Yongie but, I don’t know what it is exactly…” Mark didn’t say anything, instead he got his laptop out of his bag, opened it and typed out what he was gonna say without having to say it out loud. He was embarrassed. Would Yukhei think he was disturbing? Would he not wanna be friends with him anymore?

“What are you doing? Yah! Just tell me already, please!” Mark shushed him again and Yukhei apologized to him. Mark was hesitant with showing him the documents page on his laptop. One, this shit is very, very personal, two, Taeyong doesn’t know Mark’s feelings and he’s afraid he might tell him and three, it’s kinda…long. Yukhei pouted angrily and snatched Mark’s laptop from his sweaty palms. Mark gasped and hid behind a pillow that was on the mattress. Why was he so stupid? He shouldn’t have wrote all that. After awhile of silence, Yukhei moved over to Mark and gave him a hug. Mark was confused, why was he hugging him? Shouldn’t he be mad and disgusted with him?

“YOU’RE SO CUTE MARK-AH!! YOU’RE IN LOVE~~!” Mark hit him and buried his face further in the pillow.

“Stop, someone’s gonna hear you.” Yukhei managed to move the pillow away from Mark and have him look directly at him. Mark seemed tense. From the way his stature looked, he seemed some what off.

“Why would you think I’d not like you? Is it cause your gay?” Mark nodded his head softly, looking down at his hands. Yukhei rolled his eyes.

“You gotta be shittin me right? Mark, you’re the coolest person I know. You put up with my shit for one. Two you are in three subunits after all and you’re still kickin it, and three, you’re balancing all of that with school, taking care of dream, and having your own secret love life. That’s something I don’t think I would ever be able to pull off. Who gives a fuck if you’re gay? That doesn’t bother me one bit. And if it bothers anyone else then fuck them.” Mark just sat there. He was shocked. Did he really mean this? Wait of course he did. Why do I always make everything seem so damn difficult?

“Wow…Thanks, I don’t think I’ve ever actually got a compliment like that before. It feels kinda weird. Sorry for being delusional” Yukhei smiled and ruffled Mark’s hair.

“Don’t apologize bro. What makes you think you’re delusional?”

“I’ve just been so downcast lately to the point where my cognition of how I view everyone and everything has changed. I wish it hadn’t but I feel like it won’t completely change my view on things, as long as I have you guys… besides Taeyong…” Yukhei frowned. Why does Mark think like this? Yukhei wished he didn’t beat himself up about useless stuff like this.

“Why don’t you think he returns your feelings?” Mark stopped his soon to be speech and froze. Why would he return Mark’s feelings? Mark shook his head.

“He obviously likes someone else, he told me before. He said to me one day that he had feelings for someone. I asked who it was and he said he didn’t wanna tell me so I just let it go. It hurt a lot. It still hurts but I can’t control who he can and can’t date. That’s out of my jurisdiction!” Yukhei gulped and looked away. Mark’s face softened. He’d been out of pocket, he should probably apolo-

“Sorry I walked in on you guys, the door was un…locked…” Mark’s eyes widened like a dear caught in headlights. He knew that voice from a mile away. It was Taeyong.

“Hey I’m gonna go ask Sicheng something, be right back.” Mark tried to protest but Yukhei didn’t listen to him one bit. He closed their hotel door behind him and left. Mark was alone with Taeyong. He was more scared then the first time they went on stage to perform The 7th Sense. His face felt like he dipped it in boiling water he was so hot. Taeyong turned around and smiled. Mark felt like he was blinded. He was too bright. I’m gonna throw up.

“Sorry I walked in on you two having such a serious conversation, I should’ve knocked.” He was too kind for his own good, if only he knew that they were talking about him. Mark wiped his sweaty hands on his pants and watched himself do it while replying a very quick, your fine, so that he didn’t have to look at him. He felt the bed dip a little and there was heat to his right. Mark turned his head towards him but didn’t realize how close their proximity was. He backed up quickly and Taeyong laughed. His cute giggles always made Mark squeal like a teenage fangirl, but he tried to ignore it this time.

“Have you been avoiding me? Well I- I mean I’ve noticed it these past few weeks but didn’t say anything till Doyoung brought it up. He seemed like he wasn’t supposed to tell me because he had this dumb panicked look on his face.” Mark opened his mouth but words didn’t come out. He can’t lie because the evidence was right in front of him, staring at him with the cutest doe eyed expression. He sighed for what seemed like the 20th time that day and nodded. Taeyong eyed him curiously and turned his entire body towards him. Mark sat in the same position, but eventually turned his body slightly to be able to see him. He immediately regretted doing so. The look on Taeyong’s face made Mark’s whole body feel heavy. Guilt was all that he felt in his heart.

“How come…no uh.. Why did you?” Taeyong’s voice came out small, weak almost. He wanted to know what he did to make Mark upset. He wanted to fix it so that they could be okay again. Mark was on the verge of tears he wanted to run. Run all the way to Doyoung and slap him right in the face. No, he shouldn’t take his anger out on him, this was his doing, not Doyoung’s.

“I…I…” Mark couldn’t speak. If he did he’d probably cry, he didn’t want Taeyong to see the weak side of him. How was he supposed to tell someone he was in love with that he loved him when he obviously likes someone else. His eyes stung and his throat hurt from holding back tears. Mark shook his head.

“I’ve just b-been a little depressed l-lately… I’m fine now.” It wasn’t actually a lie purse, he was depressed and in his own head a lot. Taeyong sighed and grabbed both of Mark’s hands.

“But it was only me you avoided, right? Why is that? I know you probably don’t wanna talk about it but I just want you to tell me the truth. Please don’t lie to me.” That’s all it took for Mark to start sobbing. Taeyong’s arms flew around Mark quickly, his sobbing grew louder. Taeyong just hugged him, whispering softly in his ear to try and calm him down. It worked after awhile. Mark’s breathing evened out, only sniffles could be heard. Taeyong still had his arms around him, drawing invisible shapes on Mark’s back with his index finger. Should Mark really tell him? Maybe he should do this for himself for once and be greedy. He lifted his head up from Taeyong’s chest. He put a hand over Taeyong’s eyes and sighed.

“Can you not look at me w-when I say this?” Taeyong nodded and closed his eyes under Mark’s hand. He moved his hand away from Taeyong’s eyes and looked at him. He couldn’t cover up his heart anymore, especially when it came to him. Maybe it was a good thing? He was happy to be around him and that’s all that mattered, but should he really be greedy? Even if Taeyong wants to know what’s wrong with him? Wouldn’t this end their close friendship? He shook his head. He need to do this or he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night anymore.

“I…I’m…I think that, uh…I’m in l- love with y-you…” Wow, I stuttered a lot. Taeyong’s eyes fluttered open prettily. He had the biggest, brightest grin on his face and Mark thought he was blinded again. Taeyong grabbed Mark and hugged him so tight, he knocked the wind out of him and he almost couldn’t breathe. Mark tapped on Taeyong’s shoulder and he let go quickly.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” Mark shook his head and the worry on Taeyong’s face was gone as soon as it came and replaced with a big grin again. Mark started to think, maybe he didn’t mind getting blinded by him after all. Taeyong grabbed Mark by his arms and made him sit on his lap. Mark started blushing. Their faces were so close. Mark could see every pore, every perfection, every imperfection. He tried to look away but Taeyong put both of his hands on either side of Mark’s face preventing him from doing so. His face flushed a deeper shade of crimson. Taeyong smiled. “Cute.”

“I-Im not cute!” Mark huffed, Taeyong laughed. He put his hand over Mark’s eyes like what he did to him earlier. Mark was confused but complied and closed his eyes. Taeyong moved his hand away from his eyes and stared at his face. He loved Mark in every single way. He didn’t realize he loved Mark till a few months ago but didn’t say anything because he thought Mark only thought of him as an older brother and nothing more. He looked down at his lips and leaned in slightly, he could only feel Mark’s breathing tickling the hairs on his face. Mark grew inpatient and opened his eyes to only find Taeyong staring back at him. He couldn’t look away though. His gaze was almost hypnotic, putting him in a trance that made him lean forward.

His eyes fluttered shut when he felt Taeyong’s lips on his. His lips were softer then he imagined. Pillow soft, making him want more. Taeyong put his hands back on his face to deepen the kiss further. Mark loved the feeling of Taeyong’s lips on his. He tasted sweet, like warm milk chocolate on a summer evening. He felt like he was in paradise, only to be interrupted by oxygen tapping on his shoulder. Taeyong was the one to pull away first, putting his forehead on Mark’s like the many times he did for Mad City, but this time Mark wasn’t as shy. He kissed the tip of Taeyong’s nose. He giggled and Mark let a squeal past his lips.

“I love you too Mark. I always have, that will never ever change.” Mark put his hands on his cheeks to cover his everlasting blush. Taeyong moved his hands away from his face.

“So…does this mean that we’re dating?” Taeyong nodded. “Only if you want to.” Mark shook his head.

“Of course I want to hyung.” Mark was as shy as ever and Taeyong found it adorable. He kissed Mark’s forehead.

“Hey, what good are those lips if they’re all the way up there?” Taeyong laughed and cupped Mark’s face with his hands.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Mark pouted. Taeyong took this opportunity to kiss him while he was caught off guard. Mark kissed him back. Taeyong smiled to much to the point they weren’t kissing anymore. Mark pouted again.

“HYUNG!” Mark whined and Taeyong laughed again. Mark hit his chest and put his head on his shoulder. He was actually happy for once. He put his arms around Taeyong and breathed in his scent. Clean laundry and cologne. He heard the door open.

“Thank god!! Hey everyone! Markyong are together now!” Fucking Doyoung. He’d have to yell at him later and thank him. He heard murmurs in the background. He didn’t care if everyone saw him sitting on Taeyong’s lap because he felt better, mentally and emotionally. Normally he’d feel embarrassed for something like this, but if it wasn’t for Doyoung slipping up, he would have never confessed to Taeyong. It was much appreciated.

He started thinking, maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea. Maybe he shouldn’t cover up his heart and true feelings anymore, maybe it won’t be so bad with the annoying overflowing schedule of his. As long as he had his members, and now Taeyong as his boyfriend, everything would be okay.

[esthersnippe]

Becoming a Digital Nomad: A quick and dirty guide to UpWork

(My “office” on the Isla of Flores in Guatemala)

Freelancing is one of the best jobs I’ve ever had. 

Although now I have moved off of freelancing and am more of an independent contractor, I still pick up a few freelancing projects ever quarter.

Because it is simply a great way to make money. Loads of people are leaving their office and opting for something more flexible: according to the FreshBooks Self-Employment Report, potentially 27 million Americans will leave the traditional work in favor of self-employment by 2020. This shift would triple the current population of full-time self-employed professionals bringing the total number of workers to 42 million.

And that’s just in the US, imagine what these figures look like globally.

I’m guessing if you are here reading this, we’ve talked about it already and I have sent you the link, so you are pretty sold: but let’s review:

You choose your hours. No bosses saying “You’re ten minutes late!” or having to suffer through another 8-hour shift that just never seems to end. You pick when you work. If you are hungover and can’t bring it to the table: that’s your call. (But warning: you will not get the money if you don’t work.) 

You choose your projects. After the first couple projects (which is a bit of a mad and dirty dash, I am afraid) you get to start to get choices. Storytime! Once I was working for this American Museum Tour company. At first, they were loads of fun, and they even flew me to New York City multiple times, and I got a paid trip to Switzerland. Things were great, until the point they weren’t. Then I began to hate it with the passion of a thousand suns. So one day, I just quit. The next day, I found another project, and they paid me more money, and were a better company. It was bloody easy. Stop suffering. Pick a project you like and only stick with it until/if you stop liking them.  (Note: I have been with the new client for 3 years, and they are still a dream to work with.) 

You get paid real money. There is this idea that if it happens on the internet, maybe there is something sketchy about it. This could be true in some cases: but in this case, you get actual money (ok, sometimes it is in a different currency then the country you are living in, but you can turn it into your currency) that goes into your actual bank account and you can actually buy and pay for things. For sitting at home.  Doing stuff on your laptop. 

You can learn new stuff on the job. I definitely didn’t start out with all the skills I have now. I started off as a modest internet researcher, and through time, worked my way up to having this whole jetpack of skills that clients not only want, but need. Don’t feel daunted about not being able to do everything right away. Start with a good project, and be a sponge. Learn as much as you can, because these skills are valuable (remember the part about making real money?) 

You can go anywhere in the world. As long as they have wifi, and your clients are ok with you being in a different timezone? You can go anywhere. Since working as a freelancer, I have travelled to, get this, 30 countries. Screw waiting around for a two-week vacation. Go see the world. And make some money while you do it.

Now, here comes the part where I bring that excitement down to a reasonable level.

There are some hard truths about freelancing I am going to be frank about.

The first is that it is real work. You’ve got to be dedicated and you absolutely have to have a rock-solid work ethic. If you don’t, you will not get very far, because this is not the kind of job you can “float by” on. People will drop you like a hot potato the second you stop performing. And there is no safety net. You will have to hustle your own projects for the first bit: people will not be chomping at the bit to get you. In fact, they will probably, most like, almost definitely ignore you for the most part. There are literally 12 million users on UpWork: if you aren’t hustling, you aren’t going anywhere. Apply for ten positions a day. Get up at 4am for a Skype interview. Be charming af. Follow up, then follow up again. Don’t let them forget you, and if they don’t hire you, ask why and then get better. You’ve got to get your own work. Lastly, you are probably not going to make mad money right away. The money is there, and you can have some of it, but you are probably going to have to do a bit of grunt work first, and I am talking up to 2-3 months at a low rate. But keep at it. There is a bunch of money and magic at the top of the mountain.

Still with me?

Ok. Let’s get into it.

Why UpWork?

So, when I first started freelancing, I signed up for a few different Freelancing websites that were around at the time: oDesk, Elance and Freelancer.   There were others I looked at, like Toptal and Fivrr. But I couldn’t see how people could make actual money to pay bills on Fivrr, but didn’t have high enough skills or experience for Toptal.   I got work within a few weeks of signing up for oDesk, and after seeing the cut that Freelancer was taking after one project, stuck with oDesk. oDesk merged with Elance, they changed their name to UpWork, and here we are.  

That being said: I love UpWork. At one point, one of my clients asked me if we could leave UpWork, and he would pay me directly. I agreed. That is $1000 I will never get back. He was a nice guy, but at that moment, I was screwed over, and there was nothing I could do. UpWork protects you from that happening. 

Secondly, with the sheer amount of freelancers on the site: clients are simply drawn to UpWork. They aren’t just looking for the cheapest: they are looking for the variety.

Note: I am not longer using UpWork, and work 100% on my regular clients and referrals. But there is no way I would have gotten there, or gotten so many skills, without UpWork, so I still think it is the best place to start.

Setting up your profile

Here are three great articles on how to set up a great profile:

Enhance Your Upwork Freelancer Profile for Greater Success

How to Create an Upwork Profile That Gets You Clients, FAST

Sample: Profile

I am not going to rewrite what they’ve said. Because that is a waste of time (hurray for understanding time management!)

But here are my top 6 tips:

Upload a profile picture where you look good. I mean real good. Don’t be an a** about it either. Clean, professional, and hot. That’s all. No party hats or dogs or sunglasses or duck-facey, off camera looks.

Pick 5 skills. Even though they let you have 10: be clear about what you can and want to do. Now, on the topic of skills: you do not need a journalism degree to be a writer. Or a photography degree to manage an Instagram account. Think about the kinds of things you like. Are you a grammar nut? Put those skills to work as an editor. Do you speak multiple langauges fluently? Become a translator. Do you love spreadsheets? That is a freaking skill, (wo)man! Are you generally a happy-go-lucky, I-can-get-shit-done kind of person? Be someone’s personal virtual assistant. You do not have to be defined by what you’ve already done, focus on what you like to do.  

Watch out for typos. I was hiring for this client once, and found a woman who was amazing. We had a skype interview and I was ready to sign on the dotting line, but at the last minute, my client looked at her profile and found a typo and said “No.” Simple as that. I was gutted, because she was really fantastic. Have someone proofread your profile, because it’s that easy for potential clients to move on to the next person.

Don’t worry about tests. Very few clients look at them. Or care. Even if you are in the top 5%. They are nice, but also, kind of a waste of time. 

Fill in your profile so that your bar goes up to 100%. Just do it. I know it’s work, but you’ll get more clients.

Set a reasonable rate for how long you’ve been on the site. Yes, I know you’d love to be paid $50 and hour, but if you’ve got zero experience or hours, you are not going to get clients. Honestly, start at $7-$10 an hour. Then after your first 100 hours, you can bump your rate up to what you think you should be getting. Why 100 hours? Because it puts you in a different search category: a better one. Wait...what are these search categories? Well, when a client is looking for someone, this is what it looks like:

See that massive jump in the number of  Freelancers (the bracket number) on the “Hours Billed” section? That means your competition decreases by more than half, and you can start to get more choosy about your gigs. 

On getting hired

Remember that thing I said about hustling? Yep. You’ve got to do that.

But here are some more tips.

Apply, apply, apply. Then apply some more. I don’t even know how many proposals I wrote in those first few weeks, but it was a lot. And here’s the thing, you can’t cheat. You’ve got to read the position, and write to them personally. All the low-end people cut and paste and never move ahead. Put some soul into it, especially at first.

Start small (I mean cheap): Although your insides might be screaming “I AM BETTER THAN THAT.” take 1-3 low paid one-off projects. Get a five-star rating and use it to propel yourself to the next freelancer level.

In the interview process: be as attentive as possible. This means responding right away to messages, and being available for interviews even if the hours are weird (remember the 4am comment? Yeah, I did that once). Follow up with them, and then follow up again. Be impressive.

On working as a freelancer

Wow! Have you gotten a gig? Good job! You rock! From here on in you are kind of a free agent, and it is between you and your client, but here are some tips.

Get really good at online communication. This means responding to emails quickly, and being clear. This means if at any point you don’t understand what your client wants: you ask them before charging them for work they didn’t need or want or is incorrect. Give them your email, Facebook and Skype, and ask them how their team communicates (Google Hangouts? Slack? Basecamp *gulp*) then be there.

Download the time tracker and stick to working when you are working. It takes three seconds to turn off the tracker, check your Facebook, and then turn it on again. But once you get a screen grab of you hanging out on Facebook, it looks bad. Also, I have come to suspect (from being caught more than once) that UpWork automatically looks for you slacking off, ie. Facebook.

Get your hours in. If they have given you hours, they expect the work to be done. Coming back without the work done with excuses and worse, not having filled up your hours? Bad. Remember the thing I said about them dropping you like you’re hot? Get the work done in the hours they’ve given you, or talk with them and discuss with them why you need fewer hours. That is far better than simply coming up short.

Getting good feedback is important. Even if this means swallowing your pride from time to time. Here is what they are going to rate you on: 

But wait: why is there public feedback and private feedback? Well, you know how you’ve got that job success thing on the side of your profile?  Over time, you get secret points. Those secret points work up to you being featured higher when the clients use the search tool. Also, you’ll get some cool perks in the future, like the Premium Freelancer program.

Lastly, and most importantly: GETTING PAID So, I have to be honest here. I have never fully figured out the timing of the payments. It goes through my PayPal, and whenever it hits a $1000 of earning, it goes into my bank account. There is a bunch of information here though. If you’d like to talk to me privately about payments (ie. Taxes and other trickier areas) feel free to message me.

I hope this gives you enough to get started. As I said before, freelancing is an amazing option if you are done with the office and dream about doing something slightly more, slightly different and have the gumption to do it. If you have any questions, want me to review your profile, or just want to talk more about freelancing— shoot me off a message, I love helping people get one step closer to freedom, be that fiscal or philosophical.

PS. Here is the list of countries I’ve been to while working as a freelancer: Austria, Belarus, Belize, Canada, Costa Rica, Croatia, Czech Republic, El Salvador, England, Faroe Islands, France, Guatemala, Germany, Honduras, Iceland, Lithuania, Mexico, Netherlands, Nicaragua, Norway, Panama, Poland, Portugal, Romania, Russia, Spain, Switzerland, Ukraine, United Kingdom, and the United States.

[mahmoud37snedker-blog]

Meet Tu Holloway, In the past Known As Terrell.

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