#I should note that the option was labeled as ''kiss for +1''

[six-improbable-things]

I fucking love having weird-ass dreams. Especially when I get to remember them when I wake up.

[luvdsc]

mark lee sucks at technology.

tap the heart if you have a big, fat, embarrassing crush on your best friend!

pairing :: lee mark x reader genre :: fluff / best friend + social influencer au word count :: 5,883 words warnings :: none playlist :: dumb stuff (lany) ⋆ feeling (coin) ⋆ so far so good (gabrielle aplin) ⋆ electric love (børns) ⋆ love by mistake (bad suns) author’s note :: i was debating if i should post it on his bday instead, but i decided to drop it earlier, so uh, happy (approx. one week early) bday to mister absolutely fully capable (except when it comes to tech stuff) !!!! thank you for blessing us with your god tier raps ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.

In your required upper division business course aptly titled “Essential Marketing Strategies,” you had learned about a concept called personal brands. A personal brand is explained as the first impression a person wishes to perceive based on their own experiences, qualifications, and achievements. Your professor had told you and your classmates to pick three words to define your own brand. For instance, you chose to label yourself as charismatic, fun, and creative.

Your best friend’s brand would be awkward, endearing, and technologically challenged. 

Okay, so that is definitely more than three words, but who’s counting? You might as well tack on “Y/N’s big fat crush” at this rate because everyone and their mother knows that you carry a torch—or more accurately, a blazing wildfire that can easily be spotted from Pluto—for your best friend.

Well, to be more precise, you should probably say everyone, except Mark, knows. And that’s not for lack of trying either. You completely dropped the art of delicate subtlety months ago already. Maybe you should add “hopelessly oblivious” instead.

The rolling end credits to the sixth Harry Potter film are playing on the screen in front of you, signaling the nearing end of your magical movie marathon. You’re seated on the worn down couch in Mark and Donghyuck’s shared apartment, watching the former make his drink with the fancy, gently used Keurig newly settled on the scratched countertop. Johnny dropped it off a few days ago because he had splurged on a better coffee machine (“It even makes Instagram worthy whipped frappuccinos!”) and didn’t want his old, but still perfectly functioning caffeine provider going to waste.

“What’s wrong with this thing?” Mark slaps the side of the machine, and it starts to emit a low whirring noise. “Oh, that’s good, right? That sound is good, you think?”

His question is immediately answered by the sad squirt of hot water speckled with coffee grinds falling into his mug for a few seconds before the machine shuts off.

“What the hell?” he mutters angrily, carding his hand through his hair in frustration, and you finally decide to take pity on your best friend. Getting up from the comfy spot you know you sadly won’t be able to recreate perfectly again later, you stride over to where your best friend stands and flip open the top of the Keurig.

“Hyuck didn’t take out his used coffee pod,” you say, pulling out the incriminating evidence of your best friend’s roommate and disposing it in the trash can next to the refrigerator. “Where’s the espresso one you’re gonna use? Why didn’t you put that in?”

His jaw slackens, and he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze and mumbling, “I thought I’d just open it later and pour it into my hot water.”

“Mark,” you start, placing your hands on his shoulders firmly and staring into his eyes with a serious look on your face. “Please know that I’m saying this in the most loving way possible, but you are an absolute idiot.”

You release your grip on his shoulders and grab the espresso pod dangling from his fingertips before slotting it into the Keurig. You remove the mug he placed underneath the spout and wash out the accidental coffee water before placing it back in its original position and pressing the start button on the machine. With a sigh, you lean against the side of the counter, glancing at your friend who looks like a child being scolded for stealing from the cookie jar.

“If you pour the pod into your mug, are you just going to chug all the loose coffee grinds, too?”

“... I didn’t think that far ahead.” His lips start to unintentionally form a tiny pout, and your eyes (and your heart, too) soften.

You’re very relieved that Donghyuck is off filming with your friend because he definitely would be making fun of your heart eyes that frequently make an appearance around a certain Mark Lee. Which you always deny. Because you certainly do not have a gigantic crush on your technologically inept best friend.

You glance over at him again and have to physically fight yourself to resist the urge to kiss his cute pout away. Okay, so maybe you harbor a very respectable, medium sized crush. But it's no big deal. It’s completely under control. Unless you’re counting the fact that your best friend is still unaware, and you’re running out of ideas to try and see if he likes you back before you actually shoot your shot. Then it’s very much not under control because you’re losing sleep over it and you don’t know what to do to be any more obvious without stating the, well, obvious.

“Well, now you know. If you forget, you can FaceTime me and I’ll give you instructions on how it works.” You pat his shoulder reassuringly before pausing. “Wait, you do know how to FaceTime, right?”

“Yes!” he exclaims, sulking even more before confessing in a quieter, defeated tone, “Hyuck showed me last month.”

Mark grabs his finished drink and follows behind you, settling back onto the couch next to you. The streaming service already has Deathly Hallows Part 1 in the queue and ready to go, and your best friend is ready to click play until he notices your attention being focused on the smaller screen in your hands. He wonders if you’re about to post another one of your popular cooking videos on that app that shares a name with the most iconic song of the 2000s (hint: the name of the song’s singer is made up of four letters and a dollar sign).

“Are you uploading one of your videos?” he implores before taking a sip of his drink with a satisfied smile. Somehow, it always tastes better when you make it, and he can’t figure out why for the life of him. When he went to Johnny’s place, his older friend uses the exact same pod and water ratio for his espresso, and yet, it’s never as good as yours.

“Nah, I’m ordering my grocery delivery before I forget. Do you want anything?” You select the option to load your usual grocery items into your cart before debating on whether or not you should splurge on buying several packages of those seasonal Pillsbury sugar cookies that only come in stock during certain holidays. It seems like such an insult to the entire premise of your Tiktok account based on baking and cooking, but you’re an absolute sucker for those soft pastries.

“Yeah, can you get me a Shin Ramyun ten pack? Hyuck ate the last one two days ago and didn’t tell me.”

“You sure you don’t want ten boxes again?” You decide to get those Pillsbury sugary delights, happily adding three boxes to your cart. Everybody has a weakness, and yours just so happens to be a premade one way ticket to diabetes. You’re here for a good, delicious time, not a long time.

“No! That was an accident!” He objects, flailing his hands around, before falling back against the couch cushions in defeat. “But Hyuck does all the online grocery shopping now.”

“Thank god. You guys finally have quality toilet paper again.”

The past month of bathroom occurrences was plagued with scratchy tissue that felt more like goddamn sandpaper from the horrible depths of hell. To be honest, you probably would have rather used actual sandpaper, given the choice. You even made sure not to drink too much water any time you came over, but today, you decided to splurge on a venti passion fruit iced tea with sweetener from that very popular franchise sporting a mermaid logo and fiscally cosmic name. To your pleasant surprise, your trip to the toilet this time was wonderfully padded with Charmin Ultra Soft, not that absolutely awful off brand one with the gross texture of a dried pinecone from inferno.

“Hey, that toilet paper was a good steal! It was a three for one deal,” Mark protests, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Wow, I wonder why it was priced so low.” You deadpan, and Mark blanches, recalling all those restroom incidents that were rather rough. Literally.

“Anyway, do you think my viewers wanna see me make chocolate crinkle cookies or mochi doughnuts?” You bring up the two recipes you managed to perfect and add your own spin to on your phone, eyes scanning the ingredient lists.

“Both. And tell me when you’re making them, so I can come over and eat them.” He gives you a wide grin, and you let out a snort at that. His smile only grows as he says happily, “I love your job.”

“You only love it because you can freeload off of me,” you jest, but nevertheless begin to start to add all the ingredients for both recipes to your shopping cart. You always film cooking videos on Tuesdays, edit on Wednesdays, keep Thursdays free for last minute touch ups and emergencies, and post one every week on Fridays with other various random videos uploaded whenever in between. With that in mind, you schedule your upcoming grocery delivery for Monday.

“Hey, you need me. I’m the best taste tester.” He puffs up his chest proudly before hastily tacking on a more genuine reason. “And because I’d starve without you. I can’t live off of instant ramen and frozen chicken nuggets forever. Gordon Ramsay already confirmed my shitty cooking skills. I need you to survive.”

“Oh my god, when I uploaded those pics of your scrambled eggs on Twitter, I lost like a hundred followers in less than a minute.” You confirm the delivery and place your phone on the coffee table, picking up the opened bag of Cheeto puffs before settling back in your seat. “My cooking credibility was completely shot. I had to explain to my fans that I didn’t make those.”

“Yeah, but now everyone calls me Eggy Boi online!” he whines, and you laugh. You have to admit, it’s quite a funny play on the whole “edgy boi” terminology. You wonder if Mark will find it amusing if he discovers his roommate is the culprit behind his new online persona (He probably won’t, and you reckon Donghyuck enjoys living in a safe space where he doesn’t have to sleep with one eye open, so you stay quiet about it. You’ll use it as leverage some other time).

“Okay, Eggy Boi, come by on Tuesday because I’ll be baking in the afternoon,” you say casually, grabbing the remote control from your best friend and pressing play. 

You very narrowly avoid a green gummy bear to the face. It lands somewhere behind the couch, lost forever to the dust bunnies and other snacks that missed its target. You know for a fact that it’ll stay there until the boys decide to move to a new apartment. Mark grumbles at the miss, biting off the head of a red cherry flavored gummy bear perhaps a little harder than necessary.

“I hate you. But I’m still coming over next week because I want a doughnut.”

“No cookie?”

“... and a cookie. Maybe two.”

Wednesday comes faster than you expected, and you’re currently holed up in your apartment’s second bedroom—which you had transformed into a snazzy office space—completing the edits to your second video on mochi doughnuts. You already finished polishing the one about the cookies earlier, thank goodness. If you had to stare at your computer screen for another three hours, you would rather eat those pastries Mark tried to make two months ago, but had mistaken salt for sugar. Adding a cup of salt to any baked good is an extremely effective way to make anyone who tasted your best friend’s brownies experience a trip to the beach. Because they essentially just swallowed a mouthful of sand and ocean water. Because it’s salty as heck. Just like Mark was when you told him.

Speaking of your best friend, he’s currently puttering around in your kitchen doing god knows what. He knows better than to try another recipe and possibly blow up your number one moneymaker—your prized oven—in the process. Your heart nearly drops when your ears pick up the faint chopping sounds of a knife against your wooden cutting board. Is he going to try to temper chocolate again? He nearly burned through your entire stock of dark, milk, and white chocolate last time.

After much contemplation and deciding that you deserve a good procrastination break and a fully intact kitchen, you’re about to go out and see what he’s up to when Mark timidly appears in your doorway, clutching onto a white bowl of watermelon cubes with a fork tucked neatly in it. He shuffles in, dropping the snack on your desk before turning to walk out without a word, not wanting to disturb your work mode. 

Your heart warms up at the sight, and you speak up, a small smile slipping into your face. “What’s this for?”

“Knowing you, you probably haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” He pauses in the doorway and adds on sheepishly, “And I can't cook anything, so this is what you get.”

Your heart swells tenfold, and your smile widens even more as you spear a piece of fruit with the fork and quickly pop it into your mouth. “Thanks, Marky.”

His cheeks flush with a pretty shade of carmine, and he fails to suppress the little giddy smile that appears on his face at your nickname for him. He walks out of your office, reddened cheeks still rising up higher than ever. “Y-Yeah, of course. No problem.”

By the time you finish adding the final few touches to your edited video, the bowl of watermelon has been picked clean. You save your video and transfer both of your completed projects to your phone, making a mental note to schedule their uploads and add them to your account’s posting queue later. Shoving your phone in the pocket of your sweats after ensuring the successful transfer of your videos, you pick up the empty dish and walk out towards the kitchen, the silver fork clinking against the side of the bowl with every step.

As you wash the dish and utensil, Mark wanders over from his spot on the couch, leaning forward and casually placing his chin on your shoulder. Almost instantaneously, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you briefly fantasize about your best friend wrapping his arms around your waist and how domestic and sweet the two of you would look, like one of those cheesy couples the two of you always made fun of.

“What’s up?” you ask, making a conscious effort to hold your voice steady and not waver over the fact that Mark is basically draped over you. After you place the dish on the drying rack, you turn around to face your best friend, sorely miscalculating the distance as mere inches separate your face from his now.

“I—” Puberty decides to make an ugly appearance in the form of an ill timed voice crack, and he internally curses as he takes a step back, willing the incoming blush to go away. Letting out a small cough, he tries again, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“I, um, Jisung sent me some kind of dance video. He said it’s a challenge? I kinda don’t know what to do with it? Like do I make a new dance, record myself, and send it back? Actually, isn't it easier to just do a dance battle face to face?”

“Can I see the video?” You already have a good idea on what the video will be, but you want to confirm it. Mark fumbles with his phone, pulling up the video in his text messages. He angles the phone towards you for you to see, and you grab his hand, bringing the device a little closer to you for a better look and clicking play.

“Oh, it’s a Tiktok challenge! He’s doing the Say So dance!” you exclaim, recognizing the song almost immediately as your eyes follow the fluid dance moves, completely enthralled. “So a challenge isn’t going up against someone, like a battle. It’s just some kind of trend or concept that you try to copy yourself. You’re supposed to learn the same dance and record yourself for this one. I can show you some other challenges and help you practice and record this one tomorrow if you wanna drop by after work!”

“O-Oh, okay, sounds good.” Mark stumbles over his words, attempting to focus on what you’re saying and the dance Jisung is doing, but all he can think about is the way your body is pressed against his side, hand comfortably wrapped around his. He freezes up as the tips of his ears grow redder and redder with every passing second, and his face sports a similar color. He silently prays for the telltale crimson to go away by the time the dance is over.

When the video ends, you once again realize the close proximity between you and your best friend. Your face burns at this revelation, and you awkwardly take a step back. Clearing your throat, you hastily release Mark’s hand (He inaudibly lets out the breath he’s been holding in this entire time, yet he also already misses the way your hand felt grasping his).

“Uh, anyway, I’m gonna make a latte. Do you want a drink, too?” You walk towards the other side of your kitchen with Mark trailing behind you. You take out a floral, peachy colored mug from your cupboards before pausing and looking at your best friend. “Wait, do you remember how to use a Keurig?”

“Yes!” He says, slightly exasperated as he picks out his own cup from your cabinet. He always uses the same one—a cerulean blue mug with squiggles all over it—and all of your friends and guests know not to use it because it’s unofficially officially Mark’s mug (And perhaps, you did indeed buy it from that overpriced kitschy tableware shop down the street two years ago with your best friend in mind).

“Really?” You select the latte option and press start after you had already positioned the mug beneath the spout and inserted a green tea matcha pod. He finally relents, shoulders sagging and a defeated expression on his face.

“... No.”

You chuckle, taking the mug from him and carefully putting it on the counter. You grab the espresso pod you know he likes from the drawer below and place it next to the cup. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you again.”

Mark tries. He really does. He tries very hard to concentrate on memorizing the simple process, but he keeps getting distracted. His eyes are focused on the correct button to push before they start to trail up to your fingertips. And then, they go from your hand to your arm, then up to the elegant curve of your neck, and finally, to the way your lashes frame your pretty eyes and how the tip of your tongue sticks out slightly as you concentrate until all he can focus on is you, you, you.

Suddenly, in what feels like a blink of an eye, you’re done and handing him his finished drink, complete with a perfectly whipped milk foam on top. You ask him if he knows how to make it now, and all he can do is lie and nod with a barely convincing smile.

After all, how can Mark tell his best friend that the reason he never remembers is because you’re the biggest distraction?

Mark should be here in five minutes, according to his most recent text message. And in the text message below that, your friend had sent you a challenge. More specifically, it’s the one she completed with Donghyuck a few weeks ago. When you said you wanted bold suggestions on how to figure out if your best friend feels the same way about you as you do about him, you didn’t want one this bold. 

Yet, the video link to your friend’s “today I kissed my best friend” challenge along with a winky face from her is staring mockingly at you. While you aren’t one to back down from a challenge, the mere thought of kissing your best friend causes vast colonies of butterflies to erupt in your stomach and your ears to feel as if they have caught on fire. You’re already tongue tied with your head in the clouds, and he isn’t even here yet. How utterly fantastic.

However, your mother definitely did not raise a quitter, so you spring into action when you hear the faint jingling of a key being inserted into your apartment’s door (You had given Mark a copy of your key almost immediately after you had moved in). You move the pretty indoor fern given to you by Jaemin as a housewarming gift last year closer to the edge of your towering bookcase, leaning your phone against it. You quickly position the device to capture a good view of the couch area in your living room and press the record button, arranging a few of the leaves to hide as much of your phone as you possibly can without obstructing the lens.

You run full speed to your bedroom, letting out a sigh of relief when you’re safely inside and hear Mark finally unlocking the door successfully and shuffling in. When he calls out to you, you try to even out your breathing, walking out of your room with your tripod and laptop in hand.

“Hey,” you greet him in the most casual tone you can muster. You place the tripod down and sit before opening your laptop and setting it on the coffee table. “I thought we could watch a few challenges for fun before trying the Say So one. Have you watched Jisung’s videos before?”

“Um, well, no, not really,” he confesses sheepishly, taking a seat next to you on the couch, leg pressing against yours. He squints at the YouTube video you pulled up earlier before he had arrived, reading the title before clicking the space button to start it. “Savage Tiktok dance compilation part two?”

“Wait, hold up.” You pause the video and then turn to face him with an incredulous expression on your face. “You’ve never watched any of Jisung’s dance Tiktoks?”

“No… I don’t even have an account.” His cheeks are dusted with the lightest shade of pink as he quietly admits, “I watch all of yours though.”

Your eyes widen at his confession, face heating up as you stammer out, “O-Oh, well, I can help you make an account later to upload your video.”

“Sounds good.” There’s a few seconds of silence as you mull over his previous words before he speaks up again awkwardly, “Should I, uh, play the video?”

“Oh! Yes, right! Of course, hit play,” you laugh nervously, twisting and playing with the hair tie around your wrist. He starts the video again, and the two of you watch the compilation, slowly relaxing once more as you tap your fingers to the rhythm of the song and he bobs his head to the beat.

“Do I have to change outfits like that?” he questions a few minutes later, eyes growing round as he sees the girl on the screen switch between four different outfits throughout the dance. His closet basically consists of the same five black shirts that he stole from Jaehyun. Even if he did do an outfit swap, there would literally be no difference at all.

“You don’t have to,” you assure him, clicking the enter key to play the next video that’s recommended: another Tiktok dance challenge compilation. “All you have to do is copy the dance.”

Mark nods, taking a glance at the laptop screen before his hand shoots out and he pauses the video, leaning forward to take a closer look at the little recommended video title banner at the top. “Wait! What’s that one?”

He clicks on it, the new video now loading up. The two of you wait patiently for it to begin, waiting for the spinning disc to stop. But it doesn’t. In fact, the whole chrome page goes blank and then, the little pixelated Google Chrome dinosaur pops up on your monitor, announcing that you have no internet connection. Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to reload the page before trying to re-establish your laptop connection to your wifi. Unfortunately, you cannot find your appropriately named “drop it like it’s hotspot” wifi anywhere to connect to.

And that’s when it hits you. Your landlord had sent out a notice to the entire apartment complex last week about the electricity being powered down today from 4 to 6 p.m. for a maintenance check, and a quick glance at the digital clock on your laptop shows that it’s a little past four.

You groan, closing your laptop and flopping back against the couch cushions dramatically. Mark cocks his head, slightly confused, before he pokes you in the arm. “What’s wrong?”

“I completely forgot about the scheduled electricity shutdown for the entire building. We won’t have any wifi for the next two hours.” You pout, your bottom lip jutting out in the slightest, and Mark doesn’t think it’s fair that you get to be this cute and have this much of an effect on his racing heart rate.

“That’s okay, we can… play some board games?” he suggests offhandedly, pushing away the embarrassing thought and nudging your leg with his, and you smile before a sudden idea occurs to you. 

“Or we can still do some Tiktok challenges! What was the challenge you clicked on?” You quickly sit upright, turning to face your best friend, eyes sparkling in excitement. “I memorized a few of the dance ones already! Was it Renegade? I can teach you that one. Jisung showed me how to do it.”

“Um,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. His eyes dart everywhere, except you, as he lets out a feigned cough. “It wasn’t a dance one. It was about, uh, going up to your boyfriend… and um, hugging him... when he’s playing video games.”

“Oh.” You answer lamely, not knowing what to say. You unsuccessfully try to push away the image of you attempting that challenge with your best friend. “Those are really cute.”

“Really?” He says doubtfully, wrinkling his eyebrows and fiddling with the frayed sleeve of his sweater. “Wouldn’t the dude get mad?”

You don’t know what suddenly possessed you to do this (you’ll have to ask Renjun and his paranormal loving ass later), but you thank whatever demon did for that split second because you find yourself gently grabbing Mark’s arm and slipping your head underneath it. You swing one leg over his lap and settle down until you’re securely sitting in his lap, bent legs on either side of his hips, hands curled around the soft fabric of his sweater on both sides and resting on top of your thighs. His arms instinctively go around your waist, wrapping around you securely.

You tilt your head to the side slightly, studying the flustered boy in front of you with a teasing, albeit a little anxious, smile on your lips. “Are you feeling mad?”

Splotches of red litter his cheeks and decorate the tips of his ears, but your best friend furiously shakes his head at your question, bashfully ducking his head afterwards and muttering a soft “No.”

You swallow hard, heart pounding erratically in your chest as you timidly ask, “Would you be mad if I do this?”

Mark looks up at that, confusion written all over his face. His arms start to loosen around your figure, hands now resting on your waist. “If you do what?”

You take a deep breath. “This.”

You lean in and gently press your lips against his. Mark freezes in shock, and you quickly retreat soon after, gnawing at the inside of your cheek as you wait anxiously for his reaction. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and be buried six feet under.

A tiny noise of surprise belatedly escapes from him and crimson spreads across his cheeks like wildfire. His doe eyes are wide and sparkling, staring at you in bewilderment. Your best friend lets out a small laugh of disbelief before a full blown smile breaks out across his face. He gazes at you adoringly, breathing out softly, “I’m not mad at that.”

You perk up at that, draping your arms around his neck as you lean forward, beaming. “Really? You’re not?”

“Definitely not.”

This time, Mark meets you halfway, his lips slotting against yours perfectly and making you feel tingles up and down your spine. Your eyes are closed, and you are so hyper aware of the way his hands grip your hips, how he tugs you closer, and how his lips chase after yours. The number of butterflies from earlier multiply in your stomach, and you have ascended past cloud nine by now.

When the two of you break apart, your eyes flutter open, and you nudge your nose against his affectionately. The brightest grin blooms on his face once again, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his little giggles and hiding the awfully vibrant cerise that rapidly blossoms on his face.

“Is this a good time to tell you congrats for completing your first challenge?” you say, resting your cheek against the crown of his head. You pull away when he lifts his head up, surprised.

“I wasn’t playing video games though,” he says slowly, processing your words and thinking back to the challenge that started this all.

“It was a different challenge. It’s the one that Hyuck did a few weeks ago,” you confess, and realization dawns on him, his face lighting up for a split second before a look of horror takes over.

“Oh, no. Is that why you had your phone recording on the bookshelf?” Mark asks, dread beginning to cloud his mind.

“Yes…” you say slowly, a little perplexed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Oh my god, I ruined your video,” he moans, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder. “I saw your phone when I walked in and thought you were filming earlier and forgot to turn it off, so I turned it off for you.”

When the words finally register in your mind, you can’t stop the laughter from bubbling out of your throat, and he raises his head up to look at you with wide doe eyes at the pretty sound. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

You can’t stop laughing at the situation, and he looks at you worriedly, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly. You force yourself to calm down, a soft chuckle leaving your lips before you beam at him, leaning in and placing the softest kiss on the tip of his nose. “It’s okay, Mark. I’m not mad. That video wasn’t important anyway.”

“But still,” he whines before letting out a groan and slapping his hand against his forehead when the realization sinks in even further. “I’m such an idiot.”

“But you’re my idiot now, right?” you say teasingly, albeit a little shyly as well, as you reach over to tug his hand away from his face and lace your fingers with his.

“I mean, I kinda thought I was always your idiot,” Mark laughs softly and a little embarrassedly, eyes averted and cheeks turning pinker than ever. The largest grin spreads across your face at that, and you turn away slightly to hide it. You didn’t think your best friend can possibly be any more endearing, but he manages to prove you wrong every time.

“Well, then now you can add ‘Y/N’s boyfriend’ to your resume,” you say, and he fails to suppress the pleased smile appearing on his face at your remark, his rosy cheeks rising even taller than skyscrapers.

“So, uh, what sort of job description does that have?” He gazes at your intertwined hands in wonder, still completely giddy at the reality of you being his best friend and something more.

“Sharing hoodies, giving me attention, kissing, holding my hand, going on dates, you know, the basics,” you answer, squeezing his hand tenderly, and his doe eyes instantly light up. Mark feels a little bolder than before, and it shows when he grins widely and says:

“Can we do number three again?”

“Yes, we can, Eggy Boi.”

He wrinkles his nose at the name, disgruntled and unimpressed, as he crosses his arms over his chest, sulking. You let out a laugh before leaning in and crashing your lips against his. He immediately relents at that, enthusiastically responding and hugging you closer to him, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as you feel his own smile appear as well.

At that moment, you decide that you want to change Mark’s personal brand. Because his should be “absolutely wonderful, positively amazing, a cute kisser, your boyfriend, and your bestest friend.” And yes, that is most definitely more than the allotted three words, but again, who’s really counting?

Certainly not you when you’re too preoccupied with kissing your best friend. Correction: best friend and new boyfriend.

One new notification: donutkillmyvibe uploaded a new video!

moominjun commented:

so you’re saying the reason why we didn’t get the highly anticipated best friend challenge video is because @ marklyrawr turned the camera off?

donutkillmyvibe replied: yes 😔 I’m sorry to disappoint everyone 🤧

nanaislove replied: omg no bby it’s ok 🥺🥺💞💓💓💝💗 you didn’t have to make an apology video for that 🥺💗💓💘💖

goofys.chuckle replied: yeah it’s mark’s fault. he’s the disappointment here 🥴

morklyrawr replied: hahahahaha stfu hyuck

tytrack commented:

mark is going through puberty. I apologize

dobunny replied: @.@

goofys.chuckle commented:

are we getting whip(ped)lash pt 2 by eggy boi?

morklyrawr replied: YOU’RE THE ONE WHO STARTED THAT NAME?????

goofys.chuckle replied: uh gotta blast 🚀

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle does this mean you’re staying over again?

goofys.chuckle replied: @ showmethemonet yes if you want your super cute, mega talented, very handsome boyfriend to still be alive 🥺

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle oh my god I didn’t know I was dating bts jin???

moominjun replied: LMFAOOOOO

goofys.chuckle replied: heart 💔 been broke 📉 so many times ⏰ i don’t know 🤔 what to believe 💯 mama 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 said 🗣 it’s my fault 😢 it’s my fault ���🏻‍♂️i wear my heart ❤️ on my sleeve 💪 i think it’s best 👍🏻 I put my heart ❤️ on ice 🧊

jenojam commented:

why am I not surprised……

itsmebetch replied: just mark thingz 🍉

suhprisemf commented:

mark your head looks flat af

jungjaeprince replied: 😂😂😂

10vely replied: @ jungjaeprince be quiet don’t cry

letswonwon commented:

whoop whoop

junguwu commented:

OMG CONGRATS ON YOUR RELATIONSHIP SWEETIE 😍😍

takoyaki_prince commented:

MARK!!!!! you look handsome !! 😘

jisungpwark commented:

rip to @ donutkillmyvibe ’s future videos that mark will ruin. press f in the chat to pay respects 🙏🏻

bigheadking replied: F ✊🏻😔

peachyangel replied: f 🥺🥺

yoitslucas replied: F 🤪🤪🤪 but glad you’re happy, man ❤️

donutkillmyvibe replied: F 💔

morklyrawr replied: @ donutkillmyvibe wtf babe????

officialgordonramsay commented:

didn’t i tell you to get back on tinder ?

apado_god commented:

nice 😎👍🏻

[lazuli-bloom]

Roses and Styx

Chapter 1 - An Inconvenient Attachment

Beetlejuice x Reader

Word Count : 5365

Sure life wasn’t always easy, it had it’s ups and downs, but you were doing alright for yourself. Mostly. However when you find a strange sight while on your lunch break one autumn afternoon, your life gets all the more unusual.

Archive | Next Chapter

--=--=--

The sun beat down on you, unobstructed by a single cloud in the vibrant blue sky. A pleasant breeze wafted by, chilling the heat of the sun’s kiss. Summer was in its death throes, but stayed determined to linger as long as possible. It gave an odd contrast to the scenery. The blazing warmth of a summer sun illuminating the turning leaves and tombstones on that early October afternoon.

You sat on a stone bench enjoying your lunch in the quiet peace of the graveyard. Most people avoided visits to the cemetery, not wanting to keep the company of the dead. You, however, frequented it. With few visitors and lovely Gothic inspired architecture, the cemetery made a relaxing place for lunch breaks. Plus, it was only a short walk from your job.

While there were benches throughout the graveyard, your favorite spot was one off in the corner and closest to the gate. That day, however, there had been a funeral held in that corner of the cemetery. So as not to impose, you picked a different bench to occupy. You tried to not let your gaze stay fixed on the graveside service, but the task proved to be easier said than done. The funeral repeatedly pulled your attention back to it by partly virtue of being an event you’ve rarely seen.

Many people, dressed in black, all focused on one grave. Most of the figures standing there were adults, but among the crowd were children clinging onto parents. The group was too far to get a proper look at any of the mourners, but there was one that stuck out. A man, slightly broad in build, wore a peculiar striped suit with wide vertical bars in black and white. You noted the clothing choice as strange, but tried not to judge. Perhaps he wasn’t able to get a solid black suit on short notice.

The strange pattern of the suit made it easy to pick him out against the other mourners. He didn’t stay still. He moved around, seeming to want to get other’s attention only to be ignored. The man’s bizarre actions, coupled with the indifference of the crowd, were major reasons you kept glancing back to the funeral.

You shake your head and check your phone, almost two o’clock. Time to head back to work. You grab your trash and get up with a stretch. With one last glance back to the funeral, you find the striped suit man looking back your way. You pay him no mind and check your phone once more before heading to leave.

To wring the most time and relaxation out of your lunch, you amble back to the hardware store. You turn to the next street where brick shops sat side by side. On the corner was a shop with a rounded, sun-faded green awning stretched over most of the front facade. Your eye glanced over the printed “Rose Creek Hardware” in yellow letters for what must have been the millionth time.

The bell above the door chimed as you stepped inside. To your left an older mustached man stood behind the front counter. He wore a light blue button down under a green apron, both tight around his rounder stomach. He gave you a warm smile that you returned.

“Back from lunch already, Cass?”

“Yeah. It’s really nice out today, I can hardly believe it’s October already.”

“Hopefully, when I get the Halloween decorations up, it’ll give things a more autumn feel.”

“Can’t wait to see it, Mr. Turner! Oh, and is Sam still here? Or have they left already?”

“They’re still around. Sam was helping the new hire.”

You nod and make your way behind the counter to retrieve your apron. After you get the strings tied, you do a sweep of the store. You found Sam in the back corner pulling merchandise forward. They didn’t notice you straight away, so you softened your footsteps for your approach. You stayed at their back until they turned enough one way that you could slip around to their side and not get caught in Sam’s peripheral. Once close enough to the shelving yourself, you slap your hands down on a bare spot- “-Missed a spot!”

Sam seized up, grabbing the shelf for support. “Geez, dude! You trying to kill me?” A wide grin breaks across your face. You chuckle to yourself as Sam regained some composure. They took a breath, shot you a glare, and got back to work.

“Heard you were training the new guy.”

“Yeah, he left already.”

“What’s he like?”

“Eh. Kinda boring? White bread personified, if you ask me. Dude came in with a dress shirt and tie.”

You shrug and start helping pull forward items. While turning products to have labels front-facing you continue on with your conversation. “Sounds like all I’ll have left to talk to will be Mr. Turner.”

There was a pause in that moment, and a sting of sorrow poked at your heart. You do your best to smother the feeling and focus on your work. It’s better to cherish the moment. You force yourself to smile and keep your chat going.

“So, there was a funeral today-”

Sam groaned and rolled their eyes at you. “You went to that creepy graveyard again? How are you not haunted?”

“Hey! I told you, it’s close by and usually quiet. I enjoy taking my lunches there. Anyway, there was a funeral and one guy there was in a weird suit with black and white stripes. Kinda like the Hamburglar.”

“I swear. You’re a magnet for the weirdest shit. It’s all those shitty movies you watch that seep into your head. How the hell do you not get nightmares?”

You stay silent and look over the product in your hand as your mind wandered back to your most recent nightmare. Piercing blue dots masked in shadow, watching every move you made. You shake your head to dismiss the thought.

You huff out a small laugh. “Guess that stuff just doesn’t get to me.”

“Whatever. Just don’t let any of your weirdness rub off on my cat.”

You press your lips into a tight line and tap your finger against the pliers in hand. “You sure there isn’t anywhere else he can go?”

“Cassie, I already told you I checked.”

“I’m just worried. I don’t think this is a good idea. My apartment doesn’t allow pets.”

“It’s just for two weeks. I’ll pick him up on the sixteenth. Hell, that’s not even a full two weeks, just thirteen days. You’ll be fine.” Sam finished with their side of the aisle and took a step back. “When do you want me to drop him off?”

You breathe out through your nose and make a noise somewhere between a hum and a groan. “Seven should be alright. Donna’s always heads out to the bars on Saturdays, so it should be clear by then.”

“You need to lighten up and not worry so much. Maybe a cute roommate is exactly what you need.”

You don’t give a reply and go back to work. The two of you split off and start tackling other sections of the store. Time marched on, and all too soon, Sam’s last shift ended. Mr. Turner bid them a farewell with a handshake and handed Sam their last paycheck. You give them a small wave and focus back on your task. You knew full well you were going to see them later that night, so you didn’t see the point of having a drawn out goodbye right then.

Once Sam left, the rest of the day dragged on slower than a sloth on crutches. When there weren’t any customers needing help, you talked with Mr. Turner. It gave you something to do, sure, but time still crawled.

That day was one of the worst kinds you can have in retail. The kind that’s just slow enough you bored out of your mind, and peppered with enough customers that you couldn’t slack off and dick around on the store’s desktop. It’s like they coordinated to space themselves out to be the most annoying.

As grueling as it took to get there, five-thirty eventually rolled around. You and the boss took the last half hour to close the store. Sweep, wipe down the counters, count the till, all that good stuff. You were in the middle of dusting when Mr. Turner handed you an envelope. You thanked him and opened it to count the bills inside. Five whole Benjamins. With another thanks, you move the bills into your wallet and get back to dusting.

Once all finished, you headed out, followed by your boss. He locked the front door and walked with you around the side to the small parking lot. He hopped into his old pickup while you climbed into your little junker. The bucket of rust masquerading as a car was on its way out, but you planned on getting every mile out of it you could. Mr. Turner had driven off by the time you coaxed your car into starting. The car sputtered and hissed, but you got the clunker going.

The drive to your apartment complex was as mundane and silent as ever. Your only option for music was to sing it yourself, since the previous owner had beaten the hell out of the radio. CDs weren’t an option either as the owner before the last had stuffed the disc slot full of cookies. For what reason remained a mystery.

You drum your fingers on the steering wheel as you drove, watching familiar sites go by as you neared your apartment. Nicer well-kept buildings and streets slowly turned to the more rundown variety. The street grew more broken and in increasingly desperate need of repairs as you went.

Building after building, you passed by until finally it was time to turn off. You pull up to your complex’s parking lot, just as run down as the roads leading to it. Two buildings sat facing each other, both in contest for which one can be the most rundown. Your building nudged ahead of its twin with the recent addition of graffiti marring the exterior.

You park in your designated spot, managing to not bump up against the two cars encroaching on your space. You worm your way out without adding anymore dents to the black sedan, and head to the complex’s front door. Standing near the door with a cigarette between clawed yellowed fingers was a scrawny older woman with a perpetual sneer on her wrinkled face. Cold steel eyes narrowed at you as you dared to approach the harpy.

“Hi Donna. How are you?”

“Parker! Where’s the rest of your rent?”

You force a smile to mask the spike of irritation. This harpy is going to be the death of you. You clear your throat to help prevent your ire from bleeding out into your tone.

“Right here, Donna. I get my pay on Saturdays.”

“Not my problem. Rent is due in full on the first. Today is the third.”

“I tried paying you last Saturday, but you-”

“The first, you stupid child. Not Before. Not after.”

“Yes Donna, I know. I’m sorry, I needed to replace a flat tire an-.”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. Just pay the rest of your rent and get out of my sight. You worthless leech, can’t even follow basic instructions.”

You press your lips into a tighter line to keep yourself from screaming at the horrid bat. It was best to bite your tongue and get the interaction over and done with as quick as you could. You pull out your wallet and hand over four bills. It was nice while it lasted.

Donna snatched the money from you and promptly counted it. Once satisfied, she took a long drag off her cigarette. She ordered you to leave while smoke seeped out of her mouth like a dragon.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You hurried off to your apartment, climbing the stairs to the second floor and making a beeline for your door at the end of the hall.

You shut the door, leaning against it and breathed out a deep breath. After calming yourself some, you set your keys on the counter by the door and step further into your little abode.

You make your way back to the small living room and crash on the dingy brown love-seat, tossing your phone onto the stained coffee table. You lean back and stare at the ceiling. A boring white painted over heavy popcorn texture, collecting all kinds of dust. You close your eyes and let your mind wander, wanting to squeeze some relaxation time out of the rest of the day. Too bad your phone rang.

Sam called to tell you they were on their way with the cat. You told them to be careful and not let Donna see them on the off chance that she hadn’t left for the bar yet. Sam, however, brushed aside your concerns and told you not to be so worried. You pinched the bridge of your nose and groaned at that. Sam wasn’t the one that had to deal with Donna and hopefully never will.

It wasn’t until a long while later that there was a knock at your front door. A quick check through the peephole showed you Sam was on the other side with a backpack and pet carrier. You open the door and hurry them inside. Sam stepped in, stopping in the space between the kitchen and living area, and looked over the place.

“Wow. This place is shitty.”

“Thanks, hadn’t noticed.”

Sam set the carrier down on your couch, and the cat inside growled in a low tone. Sam took off their backpack next and handed that one over to you.

“Here’s all of Rigel’s things; food, bowls, litter box, toys. I’ll be back in town to get the last of my stuff on the sixteenth, and I’ll pay you then.”

“I thought we agreed half now and half when you got back?”

“It’ll be easier to just pay you all at once.”

You drum your fingers on your thigh and let out a sigh. “Alright, fine. It will be nice to get two hundred dollars all at once.”

“See! You fuss over the smallest things.”

You change the topic by offering Sam something to drink but they declined. Sam still needed to pack up a few more boxes before the end of the night. You nod and give a small wave goodbye, only for Sam to pull you into a hug. Your muscles tense up, but you did your best to return Sam’s sudden hug.

There was a unique funk around Sam that made the hug even more challenging to bear. An overly strong lavender tried and failed to cover some mix of sweat and burnt coffee. Sam left shortly after, telling you to just call them should you need anything. You nodded and waved them off.

Once they left, you turn to Rigel stuck in his carrier. His hissing got louder the closer you got to the carrier, and was full on slashing at the front when you reached down to open it.

You recoil and let him be for the moment, choosing to set up his things in the bathroom instead. While your bathroom was on the smaller side, it seemed big enough for one cat to stay in. You pack up all the various toiletries that a bored cat might knock down and set out Rigel’s things. Litter box in the corner across from the shower stall, while his food and water were against the opposite wall between the door and the sink.

With that set up you go get the carrier. You did your best not to jostle it too much, but Rigel wasn’t pleased and let you know. He let out some of the most chilling demonic screeches as he knocked against the fabric carrier, desperate to break loose and slaughter you. You set the carrier down in the closet, closing one of the bi-fold doors so he had a dark corner to hide in. You braced yourself with a few steadying breaths before swiftly unzipping the front. Once open, you pull your hand back and leave the bathroom completely, making sure the door shut behind you.

You did your best to salvage the rest of your night, enjoying your cup of noodles while watching a movie. It was a B-Movie slasher about a supernatural being going on a killing spree in Las Vegas. And this somehow led to the being going to space in the next film. Overall, it was pretty cheesy, but got a few laughs from you.

Soon you had to wrap things up and head to bed. You sneak into the bathroom to swipe your toothbrush and clean them at the kitchen sink that night, and probably for the next two weeks. With a yawn and a stretch you change into sleepwear and crawl into your bed.

Sleep didn’t come to you easily, but it wasn’t a night full of endless tossing and turning, either. The rest you got didn’t feel like enough, as the buzzing of your alarm woke you too early for your liking.

You sat up rubbing your eyes and checked your phone for the time. The small screen on the back of the thin flip phone showed the time was seven o’ two. You heave out a sigh and pull the warm covers off.

While your body went through the motions of your morning routine, your mind wandered back to the images you saw in your dream. An island floated in the middle of a dark ocean with storm clouds rumbling high above. The cold wet sand pricked against your bare feet like needles, yet you kept on walking. You had found yourself on a rickety dock at least fifteen feet above the violent waves below. There was nothing around you, but you knew you weren’t alone. Down below, lurking beneath the water, two hungry orbs of blue glared up at you, waiting. Expecting. When you didn’t move from your perch, the beast thrashed at the pillars of the dock. You lost your footing and tumbled down to the abyss.

You shook your head, forcing your thoughts to jump back to the present. Chills ran down your spine as the nightmare crawled around in the back of your mind, clawing its way forward. You stuffed it as far back as possible and carried on with your morning.

You soon were out the door and on your way to work. You grip the toilet paper wrapped over your forearm, letting the lines of blood soak into it so it can better rest on your arm. Rigel had given you a few nasty scratches when you got him fresh water, the ungrateful bastard. At least there’s a first aid kit at work.

The bell above the door chimed as you looked at the time on your phone. The damn cat almost made you late for work. You make your way to the back room to grab your apron, only to bump into a man turning the corner. It took a second to get your bearings and notice you ran right into Mr. Turner.

“Oh shit. Sorry, sir.”

He laughed and waved you off. “Morning Cass, see you’re in a hurry.”

“Ah- no, well, kinda. I hit every red light getting here and-”

“You’re fine, don’t worry. No need to rush. Just get your apron and I’ll introduce you to the new guy.”

You nod and scurry back to grab the green apron. It hung by itself on the hooks, speckled in paint and smudges. By that point the thing was overdue to get tossed and replaced, but the same thing would end up happening to the next apron.

You throw it on and tie it behind yourself before going out to the sales floor. Mr. Turner stood next to a man younger than himself but older than you. The boss was the first to notice you and gave another wave. “There they are.”

The new guy turned and flashed you a wide smile, showing off straight white teeth in a hollow smile. Tamping down the disquiet, you force yourself to offer a smile in return. The man strode up to you and held out a hand. “Great to meet you, I’m Brandon! Mr. Turner was just telling me how great of a worker you are-” He squinted at your apron before going back to that fake smile- “Art. Interesting name.”

“Thanks,” you said, and hesitated a moment before taking his hand for a brief shake. On contact that strange buzz of discomfort shot from your palm through the rest of your arm. Once your hand was free, you fight the urge to rub off the non-existent traces of him. There wasn’t anything there, nothing real, and you knew that, but more than anything you wanted that feeling gone and the only way for it to leave was to brush it off. Why did people have to insist on handshakes, just needless physical contact with strangers? It’s stupid, and you hated it.

For the first half of your shift the boss had you go over the day-to-day tasks with Brandon. There were few customers in the store that Sunday morning, so you mostly had the guy pull forward merchandise and clean some shelves. Brandon did the tasks, but they all came with questions. Most of the questions were mundane things about the products stocked, store hours, and what times saw the most customers. The problem came when Brandon veered his questions towards you personally.

“So, is Art short for anything?”

“Artemis.”

Your answer was short and pointed. You already didn’t like that he was the type to read name tags over asking for someone’s name.

“Interesting. So you from around here?”

A shiver shot through you, and you’re quick to stop that line of questions. You ignore the question entirely, instead cutting in to tell him to finish front-facing the aisle while you go check on Mr. Turner.

The day dragged on until finally getting to your lunch break. Brandon, thankfully, caught on that you weren’t one to disclose much about yourself to a new face. However, that didn’t make the morning smooth sailing. You grab your lunch and speed off to the cemetery, eager to get a break from Brandon.

Your usual bench was free, and you took your place to enjoy lunch. Munching on your meal, you take in the sights, finding a serenity in the quiet. The sun shined brightly, causing some of the glossier headstones to reflect the rays. You hum to yourself and scan over the graveyard. To your surprise, you spotted someone in the far corner opposite you. Your brows furrowed, perplexed by the other. You watched the figure, curious of what they’re doing.

They wandered from gravestone to gravestone, kicking at the earth with hands stuffed into pockets. The build of the figure suggested a man, and one dressed in monochrome. You squint your eyes at them making sure you weren’t mistaken; but no, that was the same bizarre suit you saw a man wearing the day prior.

You keep your gaze fixed on him, wanting to figure out why he might be here a second day in a row visiting completely different graves. Did the man simply like to visit graveyards and have a limited wardrobe? If so, you didn’t want to comment on the matter out of fear of shattering the glass house.

You ate lunch with glances at the man. You wanted to piece together why he might be there. He wasn’t mourning; he moved from one grave to the next as if searching for something. The man in the weird suit went down one row of graves, heading away from you, only to hit the end and turn back for the next row.

You forced yourself to not look at him for fear of getting caught. But your curiosity burned, and you chanced a look up. He didn’t notice you, too engrossed in whatever he was doing. Embolden by that, you continue to munch away at your food and sneak glances at him. That is, until you swallowed wrong and went into a coughing fit.

You got your breathing under control a minute later and checked to see if he noticed. And oh boy, did he notice. The man was staring straight at you. It was awkward enough to get caught looking, but you noticed the man closing the gap between you two. He was still at the far end with well over two hundred feet between you, but you didn’t want to stick around and have that plummet to single digits.

Nope. You scoop up your belongings and speed-walk straight back to the store. You didn’t even chance a look behind you. Eyes forward and keep moving. You weren’t sure if he was actually still following; you didn’t hear any footsteps behind you. So that seemed like a good sign.

You blew past the door, bell violently chiming, and you made a beeline for the back. Your heart pounded against your ribs, wanting to break free and make a run for it. You take quick breaths, forcing the next to be longer than the last to get yourself to calm down. In the middle of collecting yourself, Mr. Turner walked into the back area with worry knitted on his brow.

“Cass, you alright? What’s wrong?”

“Is there a man in a striped suit in the store?”

He gave you a puzzled look, but left to do a sweep of the store. He came back half a minute later, shaking his head. “No, no one’s in the store dressed like that. What happened?”

“Nothing really. I just saw him in the cemetery and it looked like he was starting to follow me.”

He frowned. “Well, you just come to me if any creep is giving you a hard time. I’ll knock his teeth out for you.”

You manage a smile and nod. You take a few more breaths to calm down before you grab your apron. Things were going to be okay. The guy might not have even seen what store you went into. Heck, that guy probably didn’t even leave the cemetery. And even if he did, Mr. Turner was there to help you out of a tight spot. You smile a little brighter and step out onto the sales floor where you see the stripe suit guy looking at paint chips.

A strangled scream catches in your throat. You step back, dipping back into the employee’s only area of the store before he could see you. What the Hell were you going to do now? You couldn’t hide back there all day.

You push aside the fabric curtain dividing the sales floor from the back, and get a look at the man. With him much closer, you could see his green hair and the distressed look of his suit. He leaned forward, looking over the paint colors. Maybe he didn’t know you were back there. If so, you could wait in the back for a few minutes for him to just leave.

You close the curtain and slip your hands into your apron pockets. Your fingers brush over cool metal, and your thumb flicks up the slider on the side. It wasn’t much, but it was certainly better than nothing. Box cutter in hand, you look back out.

The stranger stayed put in front of the paint colors. You take a shallow breath, prepping yourself to go out. In the middle of psyching yourself up, you see Brandon wander over to the paint section. Hope bubbles up in you. The new guy can take care of him for you.

Brandon scanned over the section. He pushed down some color chips, looked over the desk before looking your way.

“Art! There you are.”

Brandon’s voice bellowed in the small store, not only earning a squeak from you but also causing the stranger to turn and look. You yank the curtain closed, hoping the man in the monochrome stripes didn’t get a good look at you.

Brandon parted the curtain a moment later and looked you over with knit brows and lips in a thin line. “Art, what are you doing back here? I don’t think it looks very professional for an employee to skulk around in the back all day.”

“The guy over at paint followed me from the cemetery.”

Brandon raised a brow at you. “There aren’t any customers in the store, and certainly not in paint, I would have seen them.” He pulled open the curtain with a flourish to reveal the man standing just on the other side. “See, no one’s there.”

Your eyes dart between the idiot holding back the curtain and the green-haired man tilting his head some with a grin plastered on his face. Thought processing came to a crawl as you tried making sense of what you were seeing. Your gaze lands on Brandon in the end.

“You don’t see anyone there?”

He rolled his eyes and looked back out to the sales floor. He then looked back at you with brows knitted further. “No, there’s no one there, Artemis. Perhaps you should stop taking your lunches in the cemetery if they’re just going to put scary thoughts in your head.”

Brandon frowned at you before stepping out onto the sales floor, going right through the man in the striped suit. He stopped to shiver, only to keep walking a second later. Once he left, your wide eyes landed on the man still standing there, still grinning and showing off sharp yellowed teeth.

“Hi there!”

Nope. Nope nope nope. You grab your box cutter and pull it out to point at the guy. And without a word you push aside the curtain more and go around the man. The man whined at your action and followed you.

“Come on babes! Don’t ignore me, I know you can see me!”

You keep walking, heading straight for Mr. Turner. He turns to you at your approach and the small smile fades from his face. “Cass? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

The gravelly laugh behind you sent shivers down your spine. You did your best to shake off the feeling and forced a smile.

“I’m not feeling too good. I was hoping I could go home early today.”

His lips sink further into a frown, but he gave you a nod. “It’s fine by me. But what about that man you were talking about that followed you from the cemetery? Are you going to be okay?”

The man behind you continued to laugh. You tighten your hands into fists, the metal of the box cutter pressing hard into the flesh of your hand.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay Mr. Turner. See you tomorrow.”

He nodded, and you handed over your apron while keeping the box cutter in hand. You offer one last quick goodbye and head out the door, the bell only chiming once. You march down the sidewalk and hear the strange man continuing to talk.

“So, babes, where are we heading?”

You pause at your car door. You take a few quick breaths and finally respond to this... person. “I’m going home. I’m obviously not feeling well and seeing things that aren’t there.”

You slip into your car and promptly lock all the doors. You heave a sigh and lean against the steering wheel as your brain sorts through all this nonsense. A groan rumbles in your throat and you lean back in your seat. In your peripheral, the man in the striped suit sat in your passenger seat sporting a sharp grin. Well shit.

[huearmy]

Life is Beautiful - III

Summary: You are a glass half full person, your life motto is “Life is too short to… Insert something and anything here”. During your whole life you wanted something more, and even not knowing what it is, you put yourself to find out and get it, experiencing everything  brilliant that the world offers - within the measure of what is safe, of course. The curious thing is that your way of living ended up rousing  the interest of two vampires. One who sees beauty in everything and  loves to exist, currently working with suicide prevention; and another one who no longer sees grace in things, in that boring immortality that never ends, and only complains about the Netflix catalog all the time.

Pairing: Jimin x reader / Taehyung x reader.

Genre: fluff, angst, mature (not really a smut i guess?)…

Words:   8k+.

Rating: +18

Warnings:    As much as my writing is soft and light, and as these are not the main  topic of the story, treated in a non-descriptive way, there are sensitive themes from the beginning of the first chapter to the end of the fic that can trigger sensitive people, like depression, suicide, addictions in general - Jimin literally works at a suicide prevention center here.  SO PLEASE! Read responsibly, my intention when dealing with topics like  this is always 1) dealing with them in myself, as a way of putting out  part of my own healing process 2) generating identification in other  people, so they can go through the difficult time a little less alone.  THIS IS A STORY THAT SEES THE WORLD WITH POSITIVITY.

Chapter I Chapter II -

As soon as Jimin left for his date with you, giving one last thanks kiss on Taehyung's cheek, the house suddenly became darker and too huge, all the colors and brightness going away with Jimin's presence.

Even after a few minutes Taehyung was still on his spot in the middle of the living room, where he wished his best friend luck. What should he do now? How should he spend his empty time? He looked around, bored eyes not fixing on anything in particular. He slowly walked to the kitchen, just because it was the first door in front of him, and without thinking at all, opened the fridge. Since it was the refrigerator of two vampires, obviously there was only one thing inside, a few bags of blood labeled by type, and nothing more but empty space. It had been a few days since the last time Tae had eaten, and it was nowhere near as much as he was used to consuming, or as much as Jimin wanted him to take. He could feel his stomach empty, but he had no desire to take even a drop, almost feeling sick at the idea. He closed the fridge.

He sighed. A whine caught his attention to the floor, a tiny, cute, confused Yeontan looking up at him.

"You would never leave me, right?" Tae asked with a pout. The puppy just whined again. Tae picked him up, right in front of his face. "I need to find a way to turn you into an immortal creature."

With the little dog firm in his arms he got back to his room, seeing no other option on what to do than play video games till Jimin's return. His colorful neon set up welcoming waiting for him. Games are just uninteresting as series and movies, but at least playing online, with unknown, and often hostile, people, he feels a little less lonely. He has kind of some friends or so called, he doesn't really know any of them, never have met them in real life - he doesn't even want to - but it's been a while since they occupied an important part of Tae's existence, just for being his company.

He played with the loud people till around four in the morning, keeping himself silent in the call for most of the time, just hearing them teasing themselves and picking silly fights over nothing from time to time, talking only when someone talked directly at him. Then the mortals one by one go to bed, and he goes all alone again. Even Yeontan is soundly sleeping.

What should he do now? And why didn't Jimin come home yet? It had been more than ten hours since he left... He got into the bad habit of getting home in the morning, betting on running in the sun, almost killing Tae with worry. Maybe he had so much fun that he lost track of time, maybe there's another cat to find... But what if something bad happened? Should dates take so long to end? Should Tae call? He never calls, today shouldn't be any different... Maybe he would get in the way of something fun or important, the last thing he wants is to bother Jimin...

At the end Taehyung was standing by the front window, hiding behind the curtains, not moving a muscle, waiting, as usual. The street was empty, no light coming from the other big beautiful houses's windows, no cars or pedestrians to observe, yet that was what he was doing. The dark sky started to light up, his eyes adapting to it, the sun showing up painfully slowly. A movement caught  Tae's attention, his side neighbor taking the trash out, like he always do on tuesday and thursday, and in the other days the old man still wake up pretty early and sit at his porch to watch the sun rise, drinking coffee, with his old cat on his lap. Taehyung saw him in this routine with three different old cats at different times. The old man practically dragged the black bag of garbage and himself down the sidewalk to the dump, with short and slow steps he went. As always. Maybe there was something wrong before and Tae didn't notice, maybe it was because of the wet grass and mud formed by the storm the night before that they still didn't dry, but the old man fell a few feet from the curb, and for some reason he wasn't trying to get up.Like, he was moving in some way, but wasn't getting up.

Taehyung waited, not blinking an eye as he stared at the man struggling on the ground, immeasurable torturing seconds. Then the man stopped moving at all. And something kicked inside Tae. He didn't even think, he couldn't. He was unable to stop and reason about it, or control his own body... To look out the window and notice that the sun had risen enough to illuminate the front door that he was now opening at full speed. When the sunlight touched his skin, it burned like hell, forming instant painful blisters, but he didn't hesitate and just ran outside. Straight to the old man, catching him without stopping and then crashing their both bodies on the porch.

"Hey, are you ok?" Tae choked, feeling his lungs burning. "Sir!"

The man didn't respond, instead he was emitting weird choking sounds, heart not beating the right way. Even before his self isolation, Tae didn't have too many experiences with mortals than casually knowing them and drinking from them, he knows they are fragile, but he doesn't study or get interested like Jimin, he didn't know what was happening. Was this man having a heart attack? A stroke? What should he do? He doesn't know the symptoms of their diseases... Jimin would know... But now Taehyung was all alone and half of his mind was focused on his aching skin that seemed to be melting into the sun itself. With his trembling hand Tae reached to his phone in his hoodie's pocket, already dialing.

"What is your emergency?" A voice came from the other side.

"H-hello... Good morning... I..." He stammered. "My neighbor passed out in... infront of his house. He is not ok. He is old."

"Noted. Please calm down. Can you tell me your address so I can send an ambulance?"

"Sure..." Tae recited the address he only uses to purchase things on the internet. "It's a big white house, with a big porch."

"An ambulance is already on it's way."

"Thanks..."

Taehyung tried to sigh in relieve, but now he couldn't stop thinking about his own bad situation. The porch was providing shadow for him to hide, but for how much time? And when the paramedics would come and see him like that, what would they do? He didn't have the strength to run back home, the morning sun is not so strong, but exposing himself to it's light twice is suicide. And he couldn't enter the neighbor's house, there was no one to ask permission to. There wasn't no one to ask for help. He was going to die alone. When Jimin arrived from his date all he would be able to find would be Taehyung's ashes... Nothing more...

"Jiminie..." Tae was crying now, dialing the only number registered in his contact list.

Just one second - literally - later his friend's voice greeted him.

"Yes?" Jimin's voice came like a whisper, a happy, satisfied smile audible in it.

"Jimin? Are you coming home?" Tae tried to sound calm, so he wouldn't ruin everything with Jimin date experience and all, but his voice betrayed him, showing nothing but the fear he was feeling. He just didn't want to bother.

"Tae, what's wrong?" Jimin mirrored his feelings now. Tae breathed once, the air burning inside, and then practically vomited the words of nervousness. "I'm outside, on our neighbour's porch. I can't go back inside... The sun will reach me, Jimin. I don't know what to do." He was panicking, the world around him was spinning, getting him overwhelmed.

"Keep on where there are shadows no matter what. I'll be there soon. Don't cry ok?" Saying to him not to cry had the exact opposite effect. Once again, vampire's tear ducts are basically dry - especially after almost being charred, their bodies retain all possible liquid - but the other symptoms of crying happen, and it can be quite dramatic from the outside, as if they were faking it. But the sobs and the lump in Taehyung's throat were very real.

"Jimin?" He called,he could hear Jimin and another voice on the other end of the phone, but he wasn't paying attention, he couldn't, instead his eyes fixed on the line of the sun on the wall, approaching him and the faint neighbor. "Don't leave me alone..."

"Just go, your friend needs you."   Tae looked around, searching for a place to hide, finding nothing but the old man's rocking chair, it wouldn't do much to cover him from the sun, but was his only option. He crawled across the floor to the chair, knocking it over with a loud sound of wood hitting wood, and laid curled up like a ball behind it.

"Jiminie?" Tae voice sounded petrified, he really was. After decades not stepping out  the house, the very first time was at minimum trumatic. "Yeah? I'm here."

"Can we stay on the call till you get here?"

Taehyung was terrified. They both were. If he was going to die he didn't want to be alone. He was feeling so pathetic.

"Of course, my soulmate." Jimin said, as soft as he could. "I'll be there in no time tho, so it'll be a short call. Don't worry."

"Please, drive safe." Tae whispered.

Jimin laughed, not a really fun laugh.

"I always drive safe, Taehyung, safety first."

"Liar." Tae pouted.

"Well, how can I save you if I don't pierce some red lights on this beautiful not so busy morning?" Jimin questioned, trying to bring some humor to the conversation.

Taehyung sighed, feeling the heat of the sunlight approaching him.

"You won't be able to save me if you get in a crash... How much time?"

"One minute." Jimin was tense.

"Ok."

Coming from the end of the street, around the corner, the ambulance with the siren on approached and stopped in front of the house. Two people in paramedic uniforms ran towards the porch with their equipment, heading straight for the old man lying by the door. Tae hugged his legs against his chest to get smaller, hoping they wouldn't' see him hiding behind the chair and just do their saving people thing. "Oh my god! There's another person here!" The paramedic woman said in horror, probably shocked by Taehyung's very burned skin. "Sir are you ok? Can you hear me?"

Tae whined. What if they try to put him in the light?

Before the woman could even get close to him, another high-speed car came from the end of the street, screeching, and instead of stopping beside the curb, like the ambulance, the sports car driver climbed onto the sidewalk parking on the neighbor's grass. Jimin came out of the car covered by a big black umbrella, stride and the jaw tight. "Ignore our presence and continue your work helping the old man. You won't remember us as soon as we leave." Jimin ordered, his eyes shining colorful shades as the paramedics got hypnotized and obeyed him.

Half a second later he was beside Taehyung, replacing the chair, covering his friend with a long black coat.

"Taehyung... I'm here."

"Jiminie... You came."

"Of course." He helped Tae to sit up. "Can you get up?"

Tae nodded and with Jimin's help he got on his feet. In silence they both walked below the umbrella to the car, and then Jimin drove back to their underground garage a few meters ahead. If time seemed to run desperately fast before, now it has stopped completely, leaving everything in slow motion and numb. As the large door behind them slowly closed they were swallowed by the darkness of the garage, their silhouettes static and tense, the only sound being soft aching whines. Gradually Taehyung's senses returned, he became aware of his surroundings, the other cars parked in a row, the light from the corridor coming through the door's frosted glass, the scratching of Yeontan on the other side waiting for them, the smell of a mortal someone who he did not know impregnating the whole car they were in... especially in the passenger seat he was in. He hadn't died in ashes, burned by the sun in a minute or less, and he didn't know what to feel about it, whether it was relief or awe.

After a long time Jimin sighed and left the car, one second later he was beside the other to help him. None o f them talked anything as both of them got up to the second floor, or while the bathtub filled with water and music was placed in the background to fill the silence.

"Take care as you wash that, and drink..." Jimin whispered, seating beside the tube as Tae got in, holding out a pack of blood to his friend.

Tea hissed as the water touched this burned skin, aches staying on its surface.

"Thanks." He took the pack, his voice little. Another long silence. "Aren't you going to ask what I was doing outside?"

"It hasn't even crossed my mind yet, to be honest. I was too worried about you..." Jimin pouted, resting his head at the side of the bath, facing the ceiling. "Thinking about it tho, is pretty obvious... Just be careful next time you help someone, please."

"I'm not good at it like you." Tae took a sip slowly, he was waiting to be scolded by Jimin, for some reason. "Sorry to make you come earlier, this way... I didn't mean to screw your date..."

It made Jimin smile. "You are the most important and constant thing in my life Taehyungie." He took a deep, full of emotions, breath. "And you didn't screw anything, Y/N was super understanding even if she was just half awake, and I can just talk to her later and make things out. She knows you are everything to me."

Tae just humed.

"How does she know I'm everything to you?"

"I told her. Silly"

"Cool." Tae's lips formed a tin timid smile, that's a nice thing to hear after such a stressful experience after all. "Hum... Can you wash my back? I can't reach it..."

Jimin knelt beside the tube and took a wet towel, taking all care to not put too much strength on his hands as he rubs Tae's injured skin. Almost like magic - almost - the water made the blisters to dismantle, releasing more ash on the surface, yet it would take a lot longer to heal properly. The better was just feeding and sleeping now, at least que floor was full of empty packs, perhaps as much as a healthy vampire should have taken in two months.Taehyung hissed when a specific one stung more when it burst.

"I feel like hibernating." He yawned.

"You should. Take all the rest you need." Jimin agreed, reaching for the hand shower, to also wash Tae's hair.

Tae closed his eyes as the water ran down his face.

"Will you stay close... taking care of me?" He asked in a small voice.

"Of course. We are a clan, we take care of each other hibernating bodies." Jimin joked.

And Tae laughed. What a rare, beautiful sound.

"A clan of two." ________________________________________________________________

You were waking yourself up with strong coffee in the kitchen, in pajamas - not that you slept in them, right, but it was your usual home clothes -, considering if you should spend energie making pancakes or just go back to bed and procrastinate to do all the house chores and study, and just daydream about last night instead, soon it would be lunch anyways... Your roommate, on the contrary, was in full swing, walking around with the vacuum. All her energy was draining yours, all you wanted to do was lie down and stare out the window with silly smiles gracing your face.

You drank all of your coffee at once before opening the latest rental listings you favored - all in the same region you already live in, or reasonably close to college. None of them make your heart warm as your current home, but you can't do anything about it, you need an apartment you can rent.

"Baby Y/N, There's a package for you down stairs." Lydia entered the kitchen.

"For me? I didn't order anything." You crooked your head in confusion.

She disappeared for a second on the corridor, then got back.

"I'm pretty sure it is for you... I'll get it for you." She smiled.

"Thank you, Lydia." You waved at her, calling her by the name she chose to herself inspired by the Beetlejuice movie.

Not wanting to be a vegetable all day, you got on your feet to wash your mug and then start your day properly. You have laundry to do, tons of assignments to catch up, and a new home to find. Maybe you should search for tiny student studios, you could live in just a claustrophobic room and bathroom for sure...

"The delivery guy was super cute. He told me it's a surprise someone sent you, that's why you didn't know about it."

"What the heck..." You laughed, feeling your heart skipping a bit.

Lydia placed a brown paper bag on the counter, clipped to the top of the package was a handwritten note in a letter you don't know, probably from someone at the establishment who sent it. You picked it, and as you started to read, a smile grew on your lips.

I'm still sorry we didn't have breakfast together, to make up for it I sent this little treat, I hope you like it, Sweetheart. - Jimin.

"No way, that's so sweet." Your roommate commented over your shoulder, where she read the note too, taking advantage of being much taller than you. You opened the package to find a beautiful slice of cake, it looked delicious. Apparently Jimin found the ultimate path to your heart. The part of you that like to be spoiled was dancing in happiness.

"You didn't tell me how the date went yesterday, but it must have been good..." She took the restaurant brochure from the bottom of the bag. It was an expensive establishment. "We did a lot of fun things..." You said with a smile with double meaning. "I'll eat this in my room! Bye!"

Said that you took the cake and ran back to your room on your tiptoes.You put it on the desk and took a selfie smiling beside it.

You: Thanx! <3 <3 <3

You sent the selfie and waited, unpacking the plastic fork that came with it, ready to taste. The reply, however, came faster than you expected.

Jimin: Can I call you now?

Could your heart burst even more? Instead of replying you called him already.

"Hey, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?" Jimin's sweet voice said.

"Like a baby. Thanks for the cake."

"Did you like it?" He was expectant.

"I don't know yet..." You were trying to open the plastic packaging with one hand, and failing miserably. You couldn't hold a self pity laugh to escape. "Just a sec."

You put your phone down and opened the cake packaging and taking a bite, a delicious bite. Still chewing you got the phone back at your ear.

"I like it." You decreed with your mouth full.

"Good." Jimin's voice dropped an octave, and it took him a while to continue. A very low music played in the background of the call. "You're not mad, are you? Because I ran out this morning..."

To be honest you were a little bitter, yes, at first when you woke up in the empty bed you didn't remember talking with Jimin earlier, the memory came to your mind just when you were brushing your theet minutes later, but because of the reason presented, and because Jimin didn't show signs of being a guy just interested in having sex with you and then disappearing right away, you pushed the feeling aside and gave the benefit of the doubt. He gave you cake!

"Not at all, Jimin." You smiled, so he could hear it in your tone. "How is your friend? What happened?"

"He got burnt... While trying to cook. Boiled oil." Jimin faltered. "He will be ok in two weeks."

You got a seat on your bed.

"Oh. It was bad then." You never had worse burns than sunburn for not using sunscreen, the kind that peel off for days afterwards, so you couldn't even imagine. "Tell him I wish him to get well soon."

"I'll tell him. He is a baby when he's not well. I already took two week out of work so I can take care of him properly."

"Two weeks?" You tried not to pout. You wouldn't see him at work for two weeks, if you would see him at all.

"Or until he tells me he needs me." Jimin didn't notice your swing of humor. "So I was wondering, since I won't be seeing you at work... What do you think about me picking you up at the end of your shift to take you home? So we see each other as usual and you get home safely, and faster too."

You were not expecting this. "Jimin, you don't need to... No need for you to wake up late at night because of me..."

"I've traded the day for the night for centuries now, sweetheart." He laughed "I won't be sleeping at this time, it won't cost me anything to pick you up. On the other hand, I'll be able to see you."

If before you were a little bitter, now you were just sweet.

"We can also hang out another time... If you're free." You suggested. "Is that proposal to meet your dog still standing?"

"Of course, sweetheart. We can appoint that."

"Nice..." You look around, searching for something to keep the conversation up. You were not fast enough..

"I'll turn off. Ok?" Jimin said.

"Sure. I have tons of clothes to fold..." You let a self mockery laugh out. "Till soon."

"Bye bye."

He was gone. And you were alone with your expectations and a piece of cake. Still, your whole mind was full of Jimin to think of, so you fought your will to spend the day in bed after a long and hectic week, and a long and fun night, and got up to do your chores, putting on the headset and playing on the list of lively songs to tidy up the house. Is a super fun playlist you have, would it be nice to send it to Jimin? Maybe you should make a playlist for him... Yeah it would be nice. ________________________________________________________________

Jimin turned off the phone and looked at Taehyung's sleeping face. After the bath, he made his friend drink some more packs before putting him to bed, and only after he promised once again not to leave Taehyung alone, that he finally closed his eyes and let the deep sleep take him. Hibernation is to make the vampire stronger, so that they can heal from wounds or even emotional trauma, to rest fully as almost no other creature on earth can... But it is also the most vulnerable moment for them too, so great clans have great dungeons very well kept. Now, these two young vampires only have each other.

Tae's skin was full of round spots the color of recent burns, a pale pink, not pretty, even if the boy himself is the most beautiful creature. His eyebrows were still tense, as if he's still afraid. "I'll be here when you wake up, silly." Jimin massaged the center of his forehead lightly, trying to make him relax, and brushing his hair out of his face. "I have nowhere to go."

At the very beginning, Jimin was alone, since his first memory. All by himself he lived as a wanderer. Until that man came and offered to take care of him, turning him into an immortal, in return all Jimin needed to do was call him a master and be loyal. There were others besides him, a girl very much like the master, a concun lady, a tall woman with long hair, a man with a serious face. The master called everyone a family, each had his role, as a joke, Jimin was the eldest son... Still, he was still alone. He never bonded with any of them, even if he tried.

One day he just walked away, all by himself, as a wanderer. The world was beautiful to see, to know about, to experience, even if all alone he would be happy living like this. He traveled and visited places he didn't even know existed, even after becoming a vampire the world was too small for him at first. Then he started to expand this world. Decades after his emancipation he met Taehyung on a train. The boy was a newly transformed vampire, lost, not knowing what to do or where to go, scared with all things that happened to him without warning. Unlike Jimin, who was a planned transformation, Taehyung had been an accident by a very inexperienced and foolish vampire, who didn't even see that his prey was not dead when he ran away. He was dealing with everything alone.

Jimin offered to take care of him, in return Taehyung should be his friend. They were the cure for each other's loneliness, and nothing in the world is more important than that.

So, for hours, lying next to his sleeping friend, Jimin stayed, and stayed. He would move from there only when the bloodthirsty sink in - or when Yeontan needed food etc. Never getting too far from Tae's room. ________________________________________________________________

Two days went by till Jimin felt his throat dry and stomach hurting and got down to the kitchen. The fridge was empty, literally, all packs ended after the incident. "I need to get more..." Jimin muttered to himself. "Dog food and snacks are also running out... And I could buy some... I'll make a list."

He pulled out a stool and sat down at the kitchen island, and opened his notes. Messages of yours popped up on the screen. You: hey. I wanted to make a dad joke.

You: about being tired

You: cuz im tired af

You: but im toooooo tired to think

You: [image.jpg]

Jimin opened the image of you with a sleepy face hidden by your hair and the hood of your hoodie, while you turns over a can of energy drink in a coffee cup. It was a cute fun photo. Since your date you both have been texting each other nonstop, as soon as you are awake and until you go to bed, your fun photos and not so fun jokes making him feel less lonely or bored or sad or weird. Jimin: I don't think this mixture is very healthy.

You: probably. but i didnt sleep.

You: tday is my shif!!!

You: i need to stay up :(

You: [image.jpg]

A photo of you in dramatic despair.

Jimin: I'll pick you up. Ok?

He put the phone down and stretched. Jimin is used to interacting with people every day, and having Taehyung when he gets home, and the last few days without that was enough for him to feel the change and be uncomfortable with it. He is a very friendly individual who needs other's presence, anything he has to do at home is too boring when there's no one to appreciate it. He likes to dress up stylishly to just go out to walk, just to feel handsome and gorgeous. Now he was bored. Still the idea of going out, letting Taehyung alone and unprotected, even for five minutes, was eating him inside.

You: r u sure?

You: you don't need

You: i said dat already.

Jimin sighed.

Jimin: Yes. I'm sure.

Jimin: I want to see you.

And he needed to get blood too. All he wanted you to say was something to motivate him to get out of house, or else he would be in this deadlock, not knowing what to do.

You: i want to see you too

That will do. Jimin's smile got wider.

Jimin: Then there's no reason to not give you a ride today. See you later, sweetheart.

He left the conversation with you and went to another whose contact was without a name or photo to identify. Jimin: I'm going to pick up my orders today. Please get everything ready.

As usual no answer. Jimin got back at writing down his “grocery” list, consisting of things for dogs, personal hygiene and cleaning products. ________________________________________________________________

Jimin finished dressing and looked in the mirror, beautiful as usual, but not feeling as good as always. He checked all the windows and doors in the house, to make sure they were tightly closed, emphasizing those in Tae's room. He checked if there was water and food for the doggie, and replaced the pee mat with a new one. Everything was in order, but he still felt anxious when he kissed his sleeping friend's forehead before leaving the house. "I'll be back soon... I'll just pick us some food." He whispered, feeling bad for half lying to Taehyung, even if he was unconscious, and feeling weird  about the idea of admitting he was leaving to also see you.

He left, letting the room's door open so Yeontan could enter freely, and went to the garage. He still hadn't taken the time to clean up the ashes from the burnt skin that was left in the seats of the car he was using, so he passed by it, choosing another one, a model not so sporty, but equally expensive.

The streets were silent and empty, as the clock showed it was three in the morning. The only real movement he saw was of bars and clubs, as he crossed the center of the city. One or another homeless man lying under a marquee, with his old blanket and cardboard protection. In other circumstances he would stop and interact. He tried to focus only on the music playing on his phone, his favorite among those on the playlist you sent him.

Jimin finally arrived at his destination, parking in a vacant spot in a practically empty parking lot, in front of a private hospital. He wore a shoulder bag from the back seat of the car, and bypassing the front door of the emergency area, he entered through an exclusive entrance for employees. No one would see him or notice his presence. Having done this hundreds of times and knowing the way by his hand, Jimin guided himself through corridors all the same and antiseptic until he reached a pair of doors with a "Blood Bank" sign on them. "Good night. I have an appointment." He politely said to the nurse at the front desk. "Is Seokjin here?"

"Good night. Yeah, is his shift today." She held out a key to him, sleepily looking up. She was a human, but she knew what he was and why he was there for.

"Thanks." He went through the corridor behind her, passed by the lab and the blood donation collection room, and called the elevator at the end. The only option to go was the underground. Six seconds and he was in a very clean room with a too white illumination. There was no one to be seen beside metallic cabinets and refrigerators, and also an empty metal table.

Jimin waited.

From a heavy metallic door came a man. A really handsome and gracious vampire in resident doctor uniform. As he saw Jimin an enormous charming smile spread on his face.

"Oh, you are early. I was  finishing to separate your order." He sang.

"Hi, Jin. Anything special today?" Jimin put his bag on the table, and his hands on his pockets.

Jin clearly noticed his bad mood and tension.

"Not really, there's a lot of O+ and some A+. We haven't had many different donations this past week."  Jin cruzou os braços. "But as usual I kept the ones with the most delicious smell for you, the very healthy ones. As you and Taehyung are picky eaters."

"That's why I only negotiate with you."

Jin smirked and left the room with the bag, back through the same door. He used to help young vampires, teaching them how to hunt properly, as the centuries passed he started his little business of blood selling, good origin, discreet and without victims. Despite working directly with customers at the local point, his scheme is huge, practically a monopoly.

Jimin looked at his fancy wristwatch, you would be out of your shift in a little bit more of half an hour, and he should stop by the grocery store in the way.

Jin came back with the bag obviously full now.

"Everything is sealed and refrigerated but put in the fridge as soon as possible." He said as always. "And send my kisses to Tae, he doesn't respond to my messages for days now. Sometimes I have time to play with him."

Jimin considered telling Jin about Tae's condition, but opted for not doing it. This issue was something for the two of them to deal, and only them.

"I'll tell him. He loves playing with you on call."

Jin noticed Jimin's hesitation.

"I know. Bye." He didn't comment anything about tho.

"Bye, Jin. ________________________________________________________________

You like your job, you really do. Is something you feel needed as you do it, powerfull, helpful. Is something you believe in. But now, after a whole day deprived of sleep, full of stress on college, not finding somewhere to live next month, and mostly, after the last call - a situation you want to forget - you are destroyed, Crying pathetically in the bathroom was the most coherent thing you could do. You just hoped the mental breakdown would come in a place other than the office bathroom, and preferably it would be at home, where you could cry yourself to sleep in your flower pajamas, hugging your stuffed dolphin.

You stopped to wash your face and tried to breathe calmly. It wasn't the end of the world, you can handle this. Your supervisor already released you a few minutes earlier - because you were no longer in a position to work - so all you had to do was gather your stuff and wait for Jimin to pick you up.

As usual, your heart accelerated just thinking about seeing him again, especially now that you are a thing, this feeling compared to anxiety and stress is just divine. You: i'll wait at the lobby.

You: was released earlier today

You threw some notebooks and pens into your backpack and locked your personal locker before checking your belongings again - be careful is never too much - and went down the hall to the stairs. Jimin: No need to wait. I'm already here.

You almost jumped the last stair steps to the ground floor, passed by the concierge's empty space behind the counter, and before running out, checked through the glassy door if you could see Jimin or his car. At first you didn't find him, and was about to text him again, but then he lowered the window glass and you can see him in another car, different from the other night. You gaped at him - you're a very impressionable countryside girl - and got into the passenger seat.

"Good night, handsome." You said, putting your heavy backpack on the floor between your feet.

"Good night, sweetheart." He lost no time and reached to peck you in the lips, slightly holding you chin with his fingertips. The butterflies in your stomach were crazy. He studied your face closely. "You look dejected, did something happen?"

His care made you smile.

"Stressful day, lot of little things. It got hard on me today, but just it." You shrugged, an amused tone in your tired voice.

"Want to talk about it?" He cupped your face with both hands. You did the same to him.

"Honestly I want to sleep." You giggled. "What about you? You don't look the best either."

He sighed. Your care made him happy too.

"Just feeling lonely and stressed too." He licked his lips, thinking what he could or could not say. "I don't like to be trapped at home. I need to take care of Tae, but he is...  not well to make me company, so I'll be lonely till he is ok."

You looked confused but tried to understand, choosing not to ask any more questions. Jimin didn't quite explain what happened to his friend, but it seemed like something serious, and if he didn't want to give you details, you wouldn't insist. "That's sad. I hope he is ok soon." You timidly pecked him, hoping this would make him feel better.

It worked. With a grin Jimin pulled away and started the engine.

"There is something I can do?" You asked, still wanting just to be sweet to him.

Jimin made thinking pout, and you wanted to take a picture of it, not fast enough.

"Spending time with me would be awesome." He answered, making you hum. Your routine is so busy and hectic that having time to see your friends is always a miracle, because you either have work and college stuff or you just want to sleep. You started to count on your fingers what your next break is so you can hang out with him. He continued, however, already having his own idea. "Why don't you come to my place to sleep with me?"

Your chin dropped, but it wasn't what you first thought.

"You want to sleep and I want company. If we cuddle it will be the best combination of our necessities being solved." He proudly smiled.

A soft smile fell into your face as you melted. Life is too short to deny cuddles with the guy you like on what you’ll now call your second date.

"Sure."

"Wait, really?" He looked at you with round happy eyes.

"Yeah. Of course. Just borrow me a pijama or something."

To get out of the way of your place he turned the wheel abruptly to enter a return that he was going to miss one second later, crossing all the lanes of the empty avenue. For a second you got startled but then you were giggling at how excited he was at the idea of taking you home. Well, you were excited to take him home too, nothing more fair. As you moved away from the city center, to more noble areas, full of beautiful houses and buildings, you started to expect that any one of them would be JImin's house, but he just kept driving, until you were no longer exactly in the city, and some mansions started to appear in the landscape. Looking at these huge, clearly expensive homes, you wondered how many bathrooms each has. Jimin, on the other hand, was considering what to do to feed you and make you comfortable, slightly freaking out because there's nothing to eat either in the fridge or in the cupboards other than a box of cereal he bought to win a collectible gift. Did he need to do something to make you feel more comfortable? He never received visits at home... "I need to tell my roommate and my mom that I'm not spending the night at home..." You murmured to yourself.

"Your mom too?" Jimin frowned. "Doesn't she live far away or something?"

You smirked looking at your phone.

"Our city is four hours from here, but I always ley her know where I am. So she is not worried. Besides, we talk all the time anyway..." "Oh." He thought about it. "You two are good friends."

You nodded.

"In the way of moms and daughters." You noticed the car was slowing down.

"Can I send her a photo of yours? Just so she knows your face?"

"Women have to be careful, right?" He commented, thinking that it is useful to know the face of the man that your daughter is seeing if something bad happens. He read a lot of things about it on twitter, and being a vampire himself he knows how bad things can happen too.

"Yep." You made a face. "But I want her to see how hot you are. She asked for a picture before but I didn't have a good one."

Jimin was between blushing and smirking. But vampires can't blush because the blood doesn't circulate, so you didn't see that reaction, just the burning look he gave you from head to toe. The butterflies in your stomach exploded and died. Before you could take the picture you noticed that you were now parking at a garage, and your chin dropped  at the sigh of six more cars - seven in total, counting the one you guys were inside. The garage itself was bigger than the apartment you currently live in. Just the idea of so much money intimidates you a little.

"Take a selfie, then." Jimin passed an arm around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder.

"Ok." You did as said, the flash illuminating the inside of the car. "You are also photogenic."

"And you are beautiful." He looked at the photo with a cute smile. "Send it to me too. Come."

He left the car and you followed him closely behind, he carrying your backpack for you. He took off his shoes to get in, and so did you, wearing the pair of cloth slippers he offered you. You grabbed the sleeve of the black blouse he was wearing, despite the low light available looking at the whole house over his shoulder, the hallway, the living room, the stairs, everything huge and spacious, and you noticed too, with a very masculine yet artistic decoration. Definitely for you, only two people living in this whole space is strange. In your family you are in six occupying a much smaller house. Whas that a grand piano?

"It's a nice place." You thought you should say something. "Cool design."

"Tae is responsible for that. He's a very visual person."

"I see."

He took you to the second floor, straight to his room. He dropped your thing on an armchair and looked around, expectantly. It was cute, there were some plants and drawing like you sometimes see him doing at work, an ukulele on the wall... It was as you could imagine his room would be.

"I don't have a clue of how to make you feel comfortable... What should I do?" He was honest.

You smiled sweetly and took his hand on yours, and he knew if he had a beating heart it would have stumbled at the sigh.

"I'm ok. Comfy clothes to change would be nice tho."

He kissed your forehead with a grin.

"I can manage that." And he measured you from head to toe again, now really to get a sense of the size of the clothes he needed to get you. And then left through the pair of the closet's doors.

As you waited you kept looking around and took a seat on the king sized bed, you were tired after all, feeling your eyes heavy and feet hurting.

"Jimin where is the bathroom?" You barely articulated the words.

"What?" Jimin came back with some clothing in hand.

"Bathroom..."

He gave you a fondly look and deposited his clothes - a t-shirt slightly bigger than you and a soft fabric shorts that seemed to fit you - on your lap.

"Next door on the left, near the stairs to the attic." "Thanks." You picked the clothes and your toiletry necessaire and crawled out into the hall.

On the way there was only one door on the right side of the hall, which you hadn't noticed the first time you passed it. A door ajar with an ambar lamp light coming from inside. Without thinking too much you stopped to look and saw in a bed who you imagined to be the friend, Taehyung, sleeping in the center of another big bed. He looked like those illustrations of Snow White in the crystal coffin, beautiful, flawless, but pale as a corpse, the face emotionless. He looked so unreal, felt like if you touched him he would vanish away like a dream. You don't know how long you were looking at him, a few meters away, but you only managed to look away when your heartbeat became too loud in your ears. And only then did you realize that you had walked a few steps towards him. You hurried to the toilet and closed the door behind you as if something was chasing you. Looking in the mirror, you couldn't name what this feeling was. More than quickly and still shaking you changed, washed your face and brushed your teeth, and to go back to Jimin's room you were with his head down. He was already in bed waiting for you in a pair of silk pajamas, and frowned when you walked in. "Is something wrong?"

"Nope." You denied it too quickly, embarrassed to say something like 'I saw your sleeping friend in the other room and for some reason it made me nervous'. Then you smiled shyly and climbed into the bed. "Excuse me."

Jimin interpreted your fast heartbeat as shyness and pulled you close as soon he could reach you. You snuggled into him too, and your eyes felt heavy once again, the smell of him calming and slowing you down. Before you finished settling into a comfortable position you were asleep. ______________________________________________________________

Then you had your cute cheesy morning with Jimin, as you wanted. He was with his eyes open when before you, holding you tight as he scowled through his phone behind your head. You looked up and the first thing you thought about was how unfair life is. In addition to the slightly messy hair, Jimin was beautiful as always, without the sleepy face or puffy eyes of someone who just woke up, it gave you a mixture of emotions of ingenuity and admiration. You sure looked like a withered dumpling.

"Goomorning."  You murmured against him. "What are you doing?"

"We have no food, neither me or Tae cook, so I'm ordering you breakfast. Did you sleep well?" He kissed your nose, as he added croassaints to his order - he couldn't let you enter the kitchen and see all the literally empty cabinets, the only exception being a very suspicious bag, full of blood bags, inside the fridge, that he put there yesterday without you noticing, using his superhuman speed.

"Babier than yesterday." You reached for your cell phone too. "Shit, I have a seminar about neuro-physiology in fifty minutes... Where's a bus stop nearby?"

Jimin looked at you confused, for not understanding the reason for your question right away and then for having no idea what to answer. He doesn't take a lot of buses to know where they pass. "Don't worry about it, I can call you a car. And so it's time for you to eat without haste." As much as you enjoy being pampered and cared for, you are the type of person who feels guilty when others do it in excess, especially when they spend money on you. And you're starting to feel that way with Jimin. On the one hand you want to accept everything he may have to offer since technically you have no reason to deny it, but on the other hand your paranoid mind can think of several uncomfortable reasons. Your insecurities also arise to say that at some point a handsome, rich guy with two degrees like Jimin will eventually be bored with you, a poor, broken, screwed to finish your first graduation, so why not enjoy it while it lasts? Damn, that also makes you very guilty... That's why you only have poor and fucked up friends like you. Jimin raised his eyebrows at you, and then you realized that you hadn't answered anything yet, and just debated the subject a lot inside your own head. "Ah... Ok. Thanks." You stuttered. Your brain just wasn't about to form full phrases.

He holds you tighter.

"Don't be shy. You are keeping me company, the minimum is to guarantee your transport." He took your face in one hand and kissed you slowly, lazily, and you returned it with a sigh. With his lips still on yours, he whispered in a hoarse voice that made you shiver. "And if I don't treat you well, you won't be back... And I want you to..."

You were about to answer the flirt, but a sharp bark interrupted you.

"Puppy!" You sang, rolling to the edge of the bed to see a little dog with pretty expressive eyebrows barking and jumping beside it.  By the power of all the cute things in the world you spoke in baby voice. "Own... cute. Hi hi, buddie." "Come here, Tannie." Jimin whistled.

The puppy got rid of your  anxious for pets hands and ran to the other side of the bed, and appeared a second later, jumping onto the bed and over Jimin. You rolled back, also leaning on Jimin to look the other way. "Do you have a ladder for him to climb on the bed?" Jimin smiled with your enthusiasm about it. "The whole house is adapted to be accessible to his little tiny legs." He said. You put your hands on your chest. "Oh, no. My heart." Jimin sat up to peck you again before getting up, stretching slightly. "He wants to eat, otherwise he wouldn't be here. Just a sec." He picked up the dog and left.

You pouted for not playing anymore, but you understand, you were hungry too, and you had to get up and get ready soon to go to college, or else you would get late. You jumped out of bed, got your things and barefoot even ran to the bathroom. The door to the other room was now closed, yet you felt a shadow of the feeling of the night before and went by it as quickly as possible, without looking in the direction. After that, you took a quick shower, ended up borrowing a t-shirt from JImin, because to wear the same shirt from the previous day was out of the question, you had a great brunch from a expensive bakery that you had never heard of, played a little - too little - more with Yeontan, and went to college by car, something totally new to you. The rest of the day you were chased by the desire to see Jimin again, to go back to his house and stay there, in the bubble of good things he gives you, by the feeling that you somehow don't deserve it, and by the almost scary feeling  that you felt when you saw a complete stranger in his sleep.

Notes: I said I would update it before 2021! HAHAHA Sorry it took a whole life! IF YOU WANT TO BE ADD TO THE TAG LIST LET ME KNOW. FEEDBAKC IS GOOD TOO. ____________________________________________________________

Tag list: @ireallylikeyourwriting @angrygardenerr​ @depressed-dude20 @milktaetae95 @tangledsparkles​  @wlalsrkfla​ @minikolima​ @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​ @midiplier

[fluorescentbrains]

I posted 6,337 times in 2021

1722 posts created (27%)

4615 posts reblogged (73%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 2.7 posts.

I added 2,319 tags in 2021

#queuerious - 423 posts

#brains liveblogs cr - 383 posts

#anonymous - 330 posts

#spn - 288 posts

#art - 243 posts

#fanart - 215 posts

#cr - 128 posts

#video - 121 posts

#ktu - 97 posts

#places - 91 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#simultaneously ‘the old testament is so barbaric’ but also ‘if only christianity was as enlightened as judaism i would still go to church’

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

personally i cannot WAIT for conventions to return. i want and expect absolute chaos. obviously stay safe like don’t start a riot or punch anybody over any of this, but pvp has been enabled in the battleground of spn opinions

2520 notes • Posted 2021-01-27 19:29:53 GMT

#4

the way literally anything and everything gets downgraded to “unnecessary” when it comes to establishing queer relationships in fiction… like first people will say labels and marriage aren’t necessary which is true and then a kiss is not necessary which grinds my gears but still makes sense and THEN you don’t need verbal communication or words like “love” and if you want to see it you’re demanding “performative queerness” or something. maybe nothing at all is needed for a relationship. a queer relationship can be me sitting next to somebody on the bus a few times in a row. whatever.

2789 notes • Posted 2021-06-09 03:46:10 GMT

#3

anyway i don’t know what queer person needs to hear this but committed relationships aren’t just for straight people. falling in love isn’t just for straight people. having kids isn’t just for straight people. sometimes i wonder if it’s a self-preservation thing; like people act as though the straights invented all this shit and therefore it isn’t real, so it’s fine if queer people don’t get to have it. well, you don’t HAVE to have it if you don’t want it. but you should know that you CAN, it’s an OPTION.

2998 notes • Posted 2021-01-16 06:42:38 GMT

#2

when people act like superwholock was a uniquely shameful time in tumblr history i simply have to laugh… the cycle of this website is everybody getting fixated on something (a tv show, a video game, a meme) to a somewhat alarming degree until the backlash against it renders it cringe. then we all pretend like we always hated the thing and move on to the next one

11096 notes • Posted 2021-07-04 14:30:27 GMT

#1

i think popular media culture is poisoned in the following ways:

if you like something, people will make fun of you because you have admitted to experiencing a sincere emotion. this makes people defensive about what they like.

if you don’t like something, people will take your opinion personally and attack you. this makes people feel like they have to have a very good reason to dislike something.

people reach for reasons to like vs dislike things that are serious and often politically relevant so they can defend themselves from other opinion-havers.

these positions mutually reinforce each other until it is assumed that any declaration of liking or disliking something is both personally and politically relevant by default.

i am forced to look at this every time one of my fandom posts blows up.

31114 notes • Posted 2021-05-22 19:23:11 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[iwillbeinmynest]

Redcove Harvest - Bucky x Reader(f)  Chapter 1

Authors Notes: Okay so I really wanted to finish this whole series before I started posting but I’m just hoping that y’all will be patient with me because I really am itching to post something. Anyways, I hope y’all like it.    And obviously it doesn’t take much to get me to cave and post before I should. Just a little encouragement will do so please comment and let me know what you think!

AU: Farmhand!AU and SingleMom!Reader

Word Count: 

Notes/Warnings: (Notes are for the whole series) FLUFF, mentions of a past toxic relationship, a wild storm at the end, drama and a break-up, mentions of drinking, kids being adorable and ridiculous, kissing, romance and a tiny bit of angst if you look hard but nothing more than that of a Hallmark movie.

Masterlist

Moodboard by @itsanerdlife

Chapter 1

Bucky walked out of the airport and took a deep breath of air that he knew for certain wasn’t polluted. He smiled when he recognized Steve’s white and mint green Chevy pulling up to the curb.

“I’m lookin’ for a Mr. Barnes?” He called with a grin.

“That’s Sergeant to you, punk.” Bucky smiled at the sight of his best friend.

“You need a ride, Mr. Fancy Sergeant?” Steve joked as he shouted from the driver’s seat.

Bucky threw his large olive duffle in the bed and grabbed the door. “I don’t feel like walkin’ that’s for sure.”

Steve and Bucky hugged for a second before patting each other on the back really hard.

“Glad to have you back, man.” Steve said as he pulled away from the curb.

Bucky leaned back in his seat and sighed, “Glad to be back.”

They settled into a bright conversation of childhood memories that lasted the entire two and a half hours back to Redcove, Georgia.

Bucky and Steve had been friends since birth, their mothers being close friends who ran in the same circles. They were inseparable. It was always one chasing around the other but mostly Bucky chasing Steve to make sure he didn’t get into another fight.

They were on the same little league teams, went to the same summer camps, as well as the same schools- not that there was more than one option in this tiny country town.

After high school, Bucky got it in his head that he was going to join the military and went out and signed up the week after graduation. Steve had tried to follow him, but didn’t qualify.

Bucky left that August and only came back home twice- when his mother died and when Steve’s mother died. But now, he had served his country and was finally ready to retire to the calm of Redcove.

Steve pulled up to his family’s farmhouse and threw the truck in park. “Well, home sweet home, right?”

Bucky smiled as he looked across the familiar lawn. “Home sweet home.” He repeated.

“Stay as long as you like, Buck. The house is big enough. I know it’s too big for just me.”

“Property looks good,” Bucky commented as he got out. “You keep it up by yourself?”

“Nah,” Steve pulled his keys out and unlocked the front door. “I got a kid who works for me every other week. Nice guy, high schooler.”

“Oh,” Bucky sounded a little disappointed.

Steve looked back as he dropped his wallet and keys on the kitchen counter, with a raised brow. “You wanted to work here?”

Bucky put his duffle at the bottom of the stairs and then went to the kitchen. “I mean, kind of. I know the property and I need a job.”

Steve grabbed two beers from the fridge and handed one to Buck. “Well, I can’t fire the kid but I could put you on at the store, at least until you find something else.”

Bucky lit up a bit. “That would work.” He smiled.

Steve extended his bottle, “Welcome home, jerk.”

Bucky tapped his bottle to Steve’s and grinned. He took a drink and then scrunched his nose. “Is this lite?” He turned the bottle to see the label. Yep.

“You got a problem, buy your own beer.” Steve smirked.

“Punk.” Bucky shook his head with a grin and took another sip.

*   *   *   *

 Bucky huffed as he dropped another bag of chicken feed onto the loading cart. He hauled the cart onto the store floor and began to restock the feed.

Rogers’ Feed and Seed was a family business. It was Steve’s grandfather’s, then his father’s and now his. Bucky remembered coming here after school and helping out until closing. The store hadn’t changed much. There were a few new faces that he didn’t know but some of the older patrons he still recognized.

On his break, Bucky walked to the back to find something to eat when a flash of white caught his eye. In the hallway to the break room, there was a bulletin board. There were a few business cards pinned there, a lost dog poster and a few ads. One was for a dog sitter and one had baby goats for sale but the flyer that caught his eye was an ad looking for a farmhand.

The paper was white with black marker on it.  A smile teased the corners of his lip, he liked that it was straight forward.

         FARMHAND FOR HIRE

 3 MONTHS WORK GUARANTEED

 POSSIBLY MORE. PLEASE CALL...

And it listed the phone number. Bucky pulled the ad from the board, folded it up and put it in his pocket.

Steve walked down the hall. “Find anything?”

Bucky nodded. “Maybe,” he pulled the paper back out. “Just a farmhand ad. Isn’t long term.”

Steve took one look at the paper and his brows lifted for a moment.

“What?” Bucky was curious, now. “Should I bother? What’s wrong?”

“No, no, nothing’s wrong.” Steve smirked. “You should, uh,” His smile got wider. “Yeah, you should call.” And he patted Bucky on the shoulder and walked back onto the floor.

Bucky watched him for a moment then looked back at the paper. Now, he wasn’t sure he wanted to call.

*   *   *   *

That evening, Bucky sat at the breakfast table under the solitary light and thought about the ad. He held his beer with one hand and spun his phone on the table with the other.

He chewed on the inside of his bottom lip and tried to decipher the very aggravating look Steve gave him in the hallway, earlier. It was the look that told Bucky that Steve knew something and wasn’t going to tell him. And there was no use trying to get Steve to fess up because he was as stubborn as a mule.

Bucky stood from the table and went out onto the porch. He sat in one of the rockers and pulled the paper from his pocket and dialed the number.

“Hello?” he said after she did. Bucky was surprised to hear a woman answer the phone. “....Hi, yeah, I was calling about your farmhand ad. ...Yes ma’am. I can meet you tomorrow if that works. Oh, okay, hold on,” He got up quickly from his chair and hurried back inside. He grabbed a pen but couldn’t find any paper. “Sorry, one second.” He grabbed a napkin from the kitchen. “Okay, I’m ready.”

He copied her address as she said it and then repeated it back to her.

“Okay, yeah, tomorrow at eleven works. Thank you. Okay, goodbye.”

Steve leaned against the counter with crossed arms and a crap-eating grin. “You called her?”

Bucky frowned. “Why do you keep looking like that? What is it?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Steve threw his hands up. “Have fun at your new job.” He called as he left the kitchen.

“I don’t even know if i’ve got it yet.” Bucky stared off after him with furrowed brows. “Wait, what do you mean ‘have fun’?”

“Nothin’!” Steve shouted from the stairs.

“Steve!”

* * * * * * * *

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[twinklecheeks]

Friends With Benefits (Jeff Wittek Imagine) Part 9

Summary: Jeff and Y/N have been hooking up for a while. The whole vlog squad assumes they’re dating and Y/N does too but Jeff doesn’t like labels. He eventually starts to express interest in Natalie.

Note: Planning on making this a multiple part series, depending on how good it does.  You’re 21 & Latina in this (maybe) series. Also, I’d like to apologize for the typos, if there are any. I’m just illiterate lmao.  

Warnings! Pregnancy, PURE FILTH, KINKY AS SHIT, I SWEAR THIS MESS IS NASTY, NSFW. I’m being SERIOUS. Most of this chapter is sex. 

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 , Part 5, Part 6, Part 7,  Part 8

Word Count: 1.7k

Jeff’s Birthday 12/15/19

David: *Vlogging* Everybody get in the room quietly

Zane & Toddy: *has buckets of ice water*

Everybody: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR JEFF. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU.

Jeff: *under his blanket and pillows* Guys. I’m old now. Let me sleeep.

Zane: Wakey wakey baby

Toddy & Zane: *throws the ice water on Jeff*

Jeff: WHHAT THE FUCK

*Everybody runs out of the room laughing*

Jeff: So now that I’m awake, are we all gonna snowboard today?

Y/n: I can’t, so I’m just gonna stay here.

Carly: Erin, Corinna and I will stay back with her.

Y/n: Great, people are feeling sorry for the pregnant girl.

Corinna: Not true. I also hate the cold and I don’t wanna fall down a hill.

Jeff: Okay cool. We’re gonna leave in 20 and y/n, call me if anything happens.

Night time

David: I know we already sung it this morning but-

Everybody: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR JEFF. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU.

Jeff: I just like to say thank you so much guys. I know that I’ve been such an asshole the past couple weeks but now that I’m 30 and we’re entering  a new decade in like two or so weeks, I want to make things right and also I’m going to be a father to two little girls. Y/n I know of personally apologize to you already but I just wanna say in front of everybody here. I am so sorry for everything I have done to you. I will admit, I am scared to become a dad, I will protect you and the girls with my life. And thanks to everybody that came here. This friend group has changed my life for the better.

Zane: Can we stop with this sappy shit and eat some caaake.

David: *vlogging* VARDON THROW THE CAKE

Jeff: wait what

Vardon: *throws the cake*

Jeff: *dodges the cake*

*little cake fight happens in the kitchen*

David: hey y/n, can I talk to you?

Y/n: Sure..

David: I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for how I acted yesterday. After hearing what Jeff said and the way you looked at him, I’m guessing you’re still probably in love w/ him.

Y/n: ummm…

David: I don’t blame you. He is the father of your kids and he most likely still has feelings for you too. Can we just move on and be friends again?

Y/n: I’d like that very much.

*after Jeff gets cleaned up*

Jeff: What did David say to you?

Y/n: that he wanted to move on and be friends again. So now, I’m officially single.

Jeff: So does that mean I can win you back?

Y/n: woah woah woah, slow down there Wittek. You're still on a trial run.

Jeff: Is there anything I can do on this trial run to make me a lifetime member?

Y/n: *getting horny* Maybe… I mean, technically you’re already a lifetime member. I’m pregnant w/ your kids.

Jeff: Sooo… I’m not crossing any lines if I do this? *pushes y/n down gently on the bed and hovers over her*

Y/n: Ummmm….. no.

Jeff: I bet your tits have gotten a lot bigger since I saw them last. I’ll only continue if you’re okay with this

Y/n: *smiling shyly* Oh gosh yes. Please continue

Jeff: *takes off y/n’s shirt* Wow, no bra? Were you planning this? *smirks*

Y/n: No but this better fucking happen because I’m gonna beat you if it doesn’t. My tits have gotten so sore since I got pregnant.

Jeff: *sucks of the right nipple and massages the left* Mmm, they taste sweeter from what I remember.

Y/n: *moans* Mmmm.. fuuuck. Daddy you can suck on my tits all you want.

Jeff: *laughs* Daddy? Someone’s got a daddy kink now?

Y/n: Oh shut up. Let’s be honest, you had a breeding kink before because you always loved cumming inside me before I got pregnant.

Jeff: touché… and I still will cum inside you at the end. I like to finish what I started babe *winks*

Y/n: You kinky whore.

*pulls Jeff in for a needy kiss*

Jeff: *takes off your leggings* Damn babe no underwear too? You were definitely planning this.

Y/n: *getting impatient* Jeff please eat me out.

Jeff: No problem. *kisses his way down to your pussy and his warm tongue licks from your entrance up to your clit.*

Y/n: Oh my god pleease don’t tease me Jeff.

Jeff: Anything for my queen *slowly circles his tongue around your clit* I love how you were always wet for me. *eats you out*

Y/n: *cries out in pleasure* I’m trying so hard not to cum so early.

Jeff: Cum anytime you want baby.

Y/n: Oh GOD I’M CUMMING.

Jeff: *fingers her and sucks on clit*

Y/n: *trembling* mmm I feel like I’m still cumming.

Jeff: You ready?

Y/n: *smirks* I’m always ready for you.

Jeff: You’re making it hard to be gentle w/ you cause I wanna fuck you so damn rough, but I don’t want to hurt you. And you also won’t be able to walk normally..

Y/n: And who says I want it gentle? *winks*

Jeff: You’re gonna be the death of me doll.    

Y/n: *gets on her knees & unzips his pants* I’ve missed your cock so much daddy. *You suck the pre-cum* It’s bigger than I remember.

Jeff: You’re daddy’s little pregnant whore aren’t you?

Y/n: I’ll always be your whore, cum slut, doll, you name it. *licks from the base of his cock to the tip* No one can suck like I can. *You hollow your cheeks so you can suck off as much as you can. His cock hits the back out your throat; you start to deepthroat Jeff*

Jeff: *grabs y/n’s hair & bucks his hips* Only daddy can fuck your mouth, cum inside you and get you pregnant, you got that?

Y/n: Of course. I’ll always take your cum.

Jeff: Get on the bed. On all fours.

Y/n: *Gets on the bed* Just fuck me rough daddy.

Jeff: *slams cock into y/n, gives her a bit to adjust* What’d say doll? *slams it into her again*

Y/n: Jesus fuck. I’ve missed you so much. No one can fuck me like you can.

Jeff: I remember you liked it when daddy fucked your ass doll. Remember?

Y/n: *trembling* Please fuck my ass and then my pussy*

Jeff: *slowly pushes cock into her* FUCK. Shit I almost feel like cumming rn.

Y/n: Fuuuuck me- too. SHIT oh MY UGH. I haven’t done anal in so long.

Jeff: *goes faster* oh fuckk… Your ass feels so amazing.

Y/n: *being a moaning mess* Cum inside my ass Jeff!

Jeff: Don’t worry doll. I’ll cum in both. *goes faster* Fucking SHIT. Sss-o ttight *cums inside y/n*

Y/n: *screams into pillow* SHIT SHIT SHIT IM CUMMING.

Jeff: *Quickly pulls out of ass and fucks her pussy* I’m still rock hard for you baby

Y/n: *Has 3rd orgasm right after the 2nd* Jefff!

Jeff: *cums inside her* Jesus.

*both are sweaty messes wrapped in the blanket*

Y/n: *cuddles with Jeff* Well that was-

Jeff: Kinky-er than usual. I didn’t think I liked to be called daddy.

Y/n: *laughing* Oh god don’t remind me.

Jeff: I’m gonna take a shower, wanna join?

Y/n: What, so you can make me cum for a 4th time tonight?

Jeff: No you little nasty. We’re sweaty and gross. We gotta wash off our sins.

Y/n: *gets out of bed and tries to stand up*

Jeff: I told you you won’t be able to walk.

Y/n: Oh shut up and help me.

The next morning

Y/n & Jeff: *wakes up at y/n’s phone ringing*

Y/n: It’s my doctor. *picks up the phone and puts it on speaker*

Doctor: Good morning y/n, how are you feeling?

Y/n: I’m feeling great.

Doctor: Well that’s good. Is there time for you and Jeff to come by my office today?

Y/n: *confused* Umm no. We’re out of town and won’t be home for another 2-3 days. Is there something wrong? You can just tell it to us over the phone.

Doctor: Well… Okay. The only thing that came up in both of your test results was that you and Jeff are carriers of a mutation of the GJB2 gene. Normally, that gene has a protein that plays an important role in the development of the cochlea, which is in our ears.

Jeff: Can you please get to the point.

Doctor: So because you both are carriers of the mutation of the gene, there’s a chance that one or both of your girls will be born partially or completely deaf.

Y/n: Wh-what?

Jeff: Is there no way in knowing if they are beforehand?

Doctor: The only way in knowing is doing a hearing test on both girls when they’re born. If one or both are born deaf, there’s options like the cochlear implant. I’ve seen this used on babies as young as 5-6 months old but that’s in the UK. Here in the states, babies would have to be at least a year old. Just remember that I’m saying there’s a CHANCE. I’m not saying that they will be born deaf.

Y/n: Ooo-kay. Th-thanks for calling. *Hangs up the phone* D-deaf? Our girls are gonna be born deaf?

Jeff: *holds y/n* Hey hey hey, she said there’s a chance. Since there’s a chance, we gotta be prepared. We gotta do our research and see what the best options are. We might also have to learn sign language and also teach them. Y/n I know you’re terrified and I am too but we have to look at the bright side.

Y/n: And that is?

Jeff: That we’re gonna have 2 beautiful baby girls.

Y/n: *smiles weakly* Should we tell the rest of them?

Jeff: Let’s wait a bit until we tell them.

Y/n: Okay.

Ummm… Yeah so that happened… Don’t say I didn’t warn y’all in the last chapter. Jeff is really stepping up after only a few days. What do y’all think of my little plot twist at the end? Also, Jeff still hasn’t told his parents! How do you think they’ll react. 

Comment if you want to be on the taglist!

Taglist: @elvlogsquad​ @siemprestan​ @zavidzobrik​ @galxydefender​ @iminlovewithenchilidadas​ @ilsolee​ @ranprivate @one-sweet-gubler @thoughtfullymysticalpoetry @sunwardsss @shamalamashams @michellemxndes

[shinneth]

Spill the tea on Stevinel (just because I saw one for conniverse) And yes, I'm not on Anonymous. Because I'm a proud stevinel shipper and no one's going to stop me from loving it, also your blog is cool

And you know what? That’s the right attitude to have! People should be free to express what they ship without shielding themselves with anonymity. I don’t blame the people that do these days - antis are fucking dangerous people - but goddamn, people. It’s fiction. 

So I commend you for shipping Stevinel openly and proudly! Hard to believe it’s actually considered a bold and brave move just to be open and honest about harmless preferences these days. 

That said, I’m sorry it took so long to get to this. I felt you deserved an epic, given how unexpectedly successful my tirade on why Connverse is a shit ship with an undeserved golden reputation was...

But the truth is, even though I’m very much a Stevinel shipper, it’s definitely not my OTP.

And it’s very tricky for me to figure out how to spill the tea on Stevinel in a way that’s distinct from me doing the same with Stevidot.

Because, well, let’s face it: these two ships, beyond being very similar in nature, have also endured identical hardships from the fandom.

All the death threats Stevinel fans get from the raging antis for daring to ship something so “problematic/immoral/wrong/not Connverse”? 

Stevidot fans have been treated that exact same way for years. And still are. For the exact same reasons.

Both Stevinel and Stevidot shippers are valid, but the fandom constantly turns a blind eye to Rebecca Sugar’s husband who also worked on the show outright saying gem x human ships are FAIR GAME.

And also turn a blind eye to the recent interview where Sugar herself stated that the gems are more like AI - a conclusion I and many others deduced ages ago just by how gems are portrayed in the show. 

But by god, they’ll hang on Matt Burnett’s word that “grown gems” are a thing even though canon itself explicitly states that GEMS DON’T GROW.

Just like how despite Maya Petersen outright admitting that Aroace!Peridot is just her headcanon, people treat it like the fucking gospel now.

(no offense to anyone who’s committed to that particular headcanon - I just don’t really see it with Peridot in particular and it’s really fucking stupid to claim it’s 100% canon when the source herself explicitly said it wasn’t)

Well, it’s canon that Spinel kissed Steven and he didn’t turn into dust. And Steven was already well on his way down the path of self-destruction at this point in time; he would’ve gone monster whether this happened or not. 

Also, how often does a character get the “heart eyes” expression for just a platonic love?

If there was ever a scene where Connie or Steven had heart eyes, no doubt most of the pricks would scream “YES!!!! UNDENIABLE PROOF THAT THEY’RE IN LOVE!!!”

But when it’s Spinel, suddenly it doesn’t count? Really?

How convenient.

There’s also the stupid idiots who saw the conceptual development of Spinel in that movie artbook and saw some vague color keys during a conceptual stage and claimed that Spinel was “family” to Steven - which of course must mean “related” and therefore must make Stevinel an incestuous relationship! 

Which is bull. Also shit. It’s already common knowledge that gems don’t work that way. She was the designated playmate for Steven’s mother. Nothing more.

Of course, most gems who come in Steven’s orbit end up being sort of a family to him. 

But everyone seems to have this impression that a gem being part of Steven’s family means they become additional surrogate mom figures.

And yeah no, that’s dumb and wrong. Garnet and Pearl are really the only ones I’d consider actual “mom figures”. Amethyst’s more of a big sister. Everyone else can vary depending on perspective, but I’ve never seen any of the other gems as anything close to a motherly figure for Steven. Any time I see shit about Lapis or Peridot being regarded as “gem moms” to Steven, I laugh my ass off. They are so not moms or any kind of authoritative figure for Steven. Bismuth at best is more of the fun-loving aunt.

There are more roles in a family than just a paternal/maternal substitute. In fact, I believe Steven has considered Connie to be part of his family well before they hooked up in canon.

(as a side-note, I love how people who are allegedly SO squicked out by age gap ships totally pardon Connverse - you guys realize Connie was 14 in Future, right? Possibly 15 depending on the time scale? There’s gonna be a point in the relative near future where Steven is 18 and Connie isn’t - why don’t I hear you assholes angst about that “atrocity”, huh?)

I honestly do consider the CG B-Team as part of Steven’s family, but more in a loose sense. But by that same token, I consider Connie as part of the family in a similar manner. 

Especially since Spinel was shoved off to live with the Diamonds after the movie - and the Diamonds themselves have a very fucked-up relationship among themselves to the point where I honestly hesitate to put a familial label on it at all - it’s extra stupid to try and paint Stevinel as something with incestuous overtones when it clearly doesn’t. 

Spinel does happen to be a perfect representative of how full of shit antis are about age gaps, though. 

While Peridot’s age has always been left vague, we know she can’t be 5K or older due to being an Era 2 gem. Due to her utter lack of knowledge of Era 1 events (or being completely sold on the Diamonds’ propaganda) and her general inexperience with her own equipment - as well as her ability to quickly adapt to Earth - I always headcanoned Peridot as being especially young. Like, younger-than-Steven young. 

Mostly because Peri’s attitude reeks of Gen Z - also because it’d be nice for a change to have a gem who isn’t thousands of years old like literally every other noteworthy gem in the show. We need a representative of gemkind who hasn’t been around for ages. 

Of course, Spinel’s backstory proves that even if they went the boring route and made Peridot thousands of years old just like everybody else, it wouldn’t really mean much of anything. She’d be no less of a valid romantic option for Steven regardless of age.

Spinel is several thousands of years old, and the movie explicitly shows us what exactly that amounts to for a gem.

As I mentioned earlier, Sugar sees the gems more like AI. Spinel remaining in one spot for several millennnia, not moving an inch, not speaking to anyone, not seeing anything other than a gradually-deteriorating garden... yeah, and somehow, despite all that, Spinel’s still very childlike per her design. She had literally no room to mature or accrue life experience: Pink Diamond basically hit the pause button on her entire life.

Even though she’s several thousands of years old, through no fault of her own, Spinel’s mindset remained unchanged. It wasn’t until Steven inadvertently came into her life that she became twisted - understandably so after finally realizing she’d been abandoned by Pink. 

But she still didn’t completely lose her true self. Spinel realized on her own that Steven didn’t deserve to suffer just because his mom was a negligent asshole. She also came to understand on her own that unlike Pink, Steven truly cared for her no matter what shit she threw his way. 

Steven could give Spinel the care and attention she always deserved; something Pink totally denied her while deceiving her into wasting away with her abandoned playground. He could be the one to give Spinel the love she always deserved but was either denied or manipulated into believing she got. 

Honestly, this is more than enough to warrant building something more between these two. 

The age gap is irrelevant. The two have chemistry. They aren’t related.

(and honestly, this is fiction - these details are largely irrelevant in fiction anyway. I’m only bringing it up because it doesn’t take much research to find that every label the antis put on Stevinel is complete inaccurate Diamond propaganda bullshit)

Stevinel is FINE. Let people ship it if they want to!

Um... is that good enough?

Honestly, I’m not gonna lie: Stevinel’s pretty goddamned popular; so much that I’m a bit jealous of it. I enjoy the ship a lot, but I’ve been keeping it at arms-length all this time. I’m looking forward to when I can write my own brand of Stevinel interaction when I get to introduce her in my series, but that’s still a while to go. 

Also, there’s almost zero Peridot/Spinel material, let alone my Peridot/Steven/Spinel OT3. And Stevidot material is still hard to come by; I’m noticing Stevinel’s still quite a bit easier to find by comparison. 

So in a way, I feel many other unpopular ships deserve some tea-spilling sooner than Stevinel because Stevinel at least still has a sizable fanbase. Same can’t really be said for a lot of similar ships here...

A lot of this can apply to other Steven x gem ships, honestly. 

But I guess I haven’t been showing Stevinel much proper love due to my devotion to my superior SU-AU. I can only hope I can soon reach a point where I can have GA Spinel react to Steven, since their dynamic will be significantly different.

(and then one day I’ll finally make the Peridot/Steven/Spinel OT3 fic!!)

Until then, I can only hope I did Stevinel some justice here!

[bonzai-bunny]

An Incomplete Guide to Makeup featuring: The Face

So you walk into a Sephora for the first time and are, understandably, a bit lost. There are so many different brands and colors and tools, it’s all quite dizzying. I think, at its best, makeup can be a wonderful tool of artistry and self expression. I won’t get into makeup at its worst tho….

Anyway, I want to go over the basics in a way that hopefully makes sense to those who want to learn. I’m going break this into sections of face, eyebrows, eyes, and lips. And I want to preface this by saying that makeup has no rules! If you want to wear concealer as eyeshadow whomst am I to stop you? This is just a guide of how things are typically done. So let’s get started!

First things first: Skincare! I won’t pretend to be an expert in skincare, but your skin is important. Keep it moisturized with lotion/cream/gel and protected with sunscreen and please, please, please wash your makeup off before you go to bed! If you exfoliate, don’t do it everyday, no matter what Kylie Jenner says. (I can make a separate post for skincare if y'all want more detail.)

Things you typically wear on your face are primer, foundation, concealer, powder (setting and finishing), blush, bronzer, highlighter, and setting spray. You do not have to wear all of these things at once or, any at all if you don’t want to, but some people do. Just know that, unless you want it to move around your face, any liquid or cream product should be set with powder.

Primer 

So you know how if you need to paint a wall, it needs a primer to help it stick to the wall and to protect the wall? Makeup primer works the same way. It protects the skin and helps the foundation stick (more on foundation later), can control oil, and can blur “imperfections” such as some texture and large pores. There are two main types: silicone based and water based. I’m told that matching the primer brand and foundation brand is good because the products are made to work together but I have never tested this myself. I’ve also been told that you should match silicone based primer and foundation and water based primer and foundation.

Silicone based primers: (If you see words ending in -cone,-methicone, or -siloxane in the first few ingredients then the primer is silicone-based). These have a smooth, kind of thick, texture and are good for blurring pores, fine lines, and texture.

Water based primers: (water is probably the first ingredients). These have a watery texture, are light, and are good for dry skin (1).

These are very Your Mileage May Vary on what works for you.

Foundation

If makeup primer is like paint primer, then foundation is the paint. It gives you a blank canvas to work with. This is your base. It evens skin tone and depending on the coverage, covers blemishes, redness, dark spots. Coverage can vary from BB/CC creams (basically sunscreen/lotion with some tint in it and also very difficult to find in darker shades) to super full cover up your past mistakes type coverage. Just like paint, it comes in a spectrum of matte (no shine) to gloss, called radiant or glow, which is all shine. What you want depends on preference and how oily your skin is. For example, if you have really dry skin, a super mattifying foundation might make your skin *too* dry.

This section primarily focuses on liquid, cream, and stick foundations as I don’t and have never worn powder foundation.

Next, we need to talk shades because the whole point of foundation is that it matches your skin. To find a good match you need to know your undertone, which can be a little complicated. Generally, when makeup says it’s “cool toned” they mean pink, reds, and blues. If they say “warm toned” they mean yellows, golds and peaches. Neutral lands somewhere in the middle. It’s not an exact science but this page may help you.

Shade ranges typically go, from lightest to darkest, Fair -> Light -> Medium -> Tan -> Dark -> Deep

Some drugstore* options with good shade ranges are: Maybelline, Nyx, Colourpop, L’Oreal Paris, Covergirl and E.L.F

Some higher end options with good shade ranges are: Nars, Too Faced, Estee Lauder, Fenty, Lancome, and MAC

Tools for foundation

You can use a brush or a sponge (or both!) to apply foundation. I like to apply with a brush and blend with a damp sponge, but that’s just personal preference. :)

(Image: A picture of 5 different types of foundations brushes that are labeled, from left to right “flat/paddle brush.” “stippling/duo-fiber brush,” “flat-top kabuki brush,” “buffing brush,” and “round-top kabuki brush (good for powder foundation).” In between the buffing brush and round-top kabuki, there is a pink, tear drop shaped sponge.)

Drugstore: Morphe, E.L.F, NYX and Real Techniques

High end: Sigma Beauty, MAC, and Sephora Brand

I think I’ll do another post some other time about techniques with each but moving on!

Concealer

Think of concealer like heavy duty foundation. It is thicker and more full coverage than foundation and more for small areas than the full face. Just like foundation, it does vary in the amount of coverage. It can go above or under foundation. There are three ways to use concealer: Spot covering, color correcting, and highlighting and contouring.

Spot covering is what it sounds like, covering small spots that the foundation might not have covered. Typically done with the same color as the foundation.

Color correcting is taking a color and that isn’t your skin tone to “correct” some blemish or darkness. So brief rundown:

Peach: Dark spots on light to medium skin tones Orange: Dark spots on tan to dark skin tones Red: Dark spots on deep skin tones Green: Persistent redness from acne Yellow: Mild redness Pink: Dark circles and overall dullness on light skin tones Purple: Dark circles and overall dullness on dark skin tones (2)

Highlighting and Contouring** 

Popularized by Kim Kardashian. Highlighting is taking a color that is lighter than your skin tone and, well, using it to direct attention to certain parts of your face (or brighten up the under eye area). Common areas to highlight are under eye/above cheek bone/center forehead/chin/bridge of nose. Can also be used under an eyebrow to help shape it. Contouring is taking a color that is darker and cooler than your skin tone and using it to deepen/chisel your features or create the illusion of shadow. Common areas to contour are under the cheekbones, around perimeter of forehead, around the jawline, and the sides of the nose.

You can highlight and contour with foundation or powders, but it’s often done with concealer.

Drugstore: Maybelline, Colourpop, Milani, L’Oreal, NYX

High End: Nars, Too Faced, CoverFX, Makeup Forever

Can be applied with a sponge or a brush, like the few below. They tend to be smaller than foundation brushes because you use less concealer.

(Image: 5 small brushes shown vertically) (3)

Powders

There are two main types of powders, setting powder and finishing powder. 

Setting powder, which may be loose or pressed in a pan, prevents base makeup from moving and can prevent areas of the face from getting oily and breaking up makeup. Often done with translucent powder. Despite its name, MOST white translucent powders are not actually translucent on dark skin tones. It will appear as a grey cast, but you can get “translucent” powders in tan, beige, and yellow. It can be very hard to find good translucent powder.

Drugstore: Maybelline, Morphe

High End: Laura Mercier, Beauty Bakery, and Fenty Beauty

Finishing powder is what it sounds like. You put it on after all of your makeup is done to get it all nice and airbrushed looking. These are typically are loose powder and aren’t really used as much as setting powder. Sometimes finishing and setting powders are used interchangeably (4). At the end of the day it is just powder that goes on your face.

Drugstore: Colourpop, Maybelline, Morphe, NYX

High End: Sephora Brand, MAC, Ben Nye

Setting powder is typically applied with a sponge (damp or not) and pressed into the oiliest parts or parts you want to highlight, called baking.

Finishing powder is typically dusted over the face with a big fluffy brush like this one.

(Image: A black makeup brush with a round, fluffy, white tip that is widest at its top) (5)

Blush!

This, along with lipstick, is probably one of the most well known aspects of makeup. Blush can be powder, cream, or liquid and is used to bring a bit of flush back to the cheeks (or nose for some people). Can be matte or sparkly. Not all blushes work for all people and this largely depends on skin tones. A light pink blush will look grey on me for example. And yes, blush can work on dark skin, it just depends on the color blush.

Drugstore blushes: Colourpop, NYX, Maybelline, Milani, and Morphe

High end blushes: Nars, Makeup Forever, Lancome, MAC and Bobbi Brown

Cream or liquid blush can be applied with fingers or a sponge. Powder blush is applied with a powder brush, which is also the brush above!

Bronzer

Many people confuse bronzing and contouring. The purpose of contouring is to make your face look more chiseled (or snatched as the kids say). Bronzing is to make you look a little more sun kissed and tan. It’s typically a powder (I have never seen a cream or liquid bronzer but I’m sure it exists) and can be matte or sparkly. It’s applied in about the same place as a contouring might be, but softer and more diffused.

Drugstore bronzers: NYX, Colourpop, Maybelline

High end bronzers: Anastasia Beverly Hills, Nars, Bobbi Brown

Applied with a fluffy powder brush or angle brush or short stipple brush.

(Image, a black brush with a silver hilt and black bristles. The brush is flat on top and angled to the right) (6)

((Note: You can also do a powder contour with that type of brush!))

Highlighter

And here, the shiny champion. 

I don’t know how to describe it other than it’s put on certain spots to make light reflect there. It can be liquid, cream, or powder. Some people want a nice subtle glow. Some people want to look like they’re trying to flag down a plane. It might be put on the cheekbone, under the brow bone, on the tip of the nose or down the nose bridge.

Here is an example of it in use:

(Image, white woman with dark hair in makeup and wearing Stila Glitter and Glow Face Highlighter on her cheek bones, under the brown bone, on the bridge and tip of the nose, in the inner corner of the eye, and on the forehead) 

I find that silvery/white highlighter tends to look washed out on dark skin, but there’s no hard and fast rule on what colors to use. You can go from more traditional colors like gold and silver or you can wear purple or green or blue highlighter. It’s all up to you!

Drugstore highlighters: Physicians Formula, Maybelline, NYX, Colourpop, and ELF

High end highlighters: Anastasia Beverly Hills, Stila, CoverFX, Hourglass, and Laura Geller

If it’s a liquid or cream it might be applied with fingers or a sponge. If it’s a powder, it can be applied with a tapered brush or fan brush like so

(Image, two makeup brushes. One has a round tip that is wider in the middle and slimmer at the top. One has a tip that is shaped like a fan.) (7)

Setting spray

Last but not least! This is spray that helps melt your makeup into your skin/reduce the appearance of powder, and helps your makeup stay put. This is the last step for the face. All you do is just spray it all over your face.

Drugstore: Morphe, E.L.F., Colourpop

High end: Too Faced, Urban Decay, MAC

More parts to come! xx

*I know Colourpop and Morphe are not sold alongside drugstore products but the prices are comparable 

**I can do a post on Highlighting and Contour techniques if anyone wants

[barcaavengers]

Irreversible || Newt Imagine || Part 1

Note: And here I am with another Newt imagine cause I can. Switched the events a bit so it could make sense as to why there are two females in Maze A. This one is basically a background kind of thing and next part should be fluffy and angsty. (: Dashner teasing with another book with Newt had me thinking so while he decides to throw me a bone on what we should expect, here is me trying to fix things or making them worse. Anyway, enjoy protective, boyfriend-to-be Newt in the Scorch and next part will take place in the Death Cure events. As always, don’t forget to provide some feedback and ideas! I promise second part will be best. Just thought TST had some moments I could insert protective, loving Newt. 

It felt like you won't stop running any time soon. You were a runner, and you loved the feeling. The wind going through your hair and face, the feeling of freedom even if you had spent what you could remember of your life stuck in a Maze. It did it for you. Now in these cases, it was a completely different story. You could tell it hasn't been a full day since you have gotten out of the Maze, into the new compound and now Thomas had the whole group running for their lives after finding out that the compound belonged to Wicked. You didn’t really escape. Now you were out in the desert at night, getting inside a building had Teresa found open and which you thought ten times before going in as you didn't trust her. Minho was the second one to hesitate, but what other option did you have? Wicked was on your trail and if what Thomas said was true, you didn't want to go back in there. You didn’t want to be another subject. 

"What's the plan?" Newt asked and Thomas proceeded to mention he didn't have one. Yet when Newt started to point out they had run away following him in hopes he had a plan, Aris mentioned something and Thomas put a name to it. The Right Arm.

"People? In the mountains? Mountain people?" Newt asks almost in disbelief.

"We don't even know how far these mountains are. If Wicked with all their helicopters lost them, we don’t stand a chance on foot unless we come up with a plan fast" you point out. You tried not to sound harsh since he did help you run from Wicked once more but sometimes Thomas did questionable things...

Everyone was silent for a moment, knowing deep down that there was no other way. This would have to do for now until something else came up, or at least while the sun came up because walking at night with those things out there and not knowing where you would all be heading would only worsen things.

"Get what you need, we meet back here in five" Thomas says and you nod your head.

"Come on" Newt signals with his head and you follow, so does Frypan, Aris and Teresa stick along in a distance while Minho and Thomas split from the group.

The group continues to light up the corners in search of anything. It was quiet...too quiet, and it was getting chilly so you grabbed the first jacket you could find, then found a set of clothes that would do for now. In any other case, you’d probably think it twice before putting on some random person’s clothe one, but not now. Not when it was getting cold and you didn’t know what it would be like out there tomorrow. "I will go change" you say to Newt and he nods quietly and watches you distant from him. You take your pants off first, stumbling a bit as you did.

"Careful there" you hear his accent and jump.

"Shit, Newt!" You squeak and he smiles.

"Sorry" he says and gets closer to you. "Habit" he teases with a shrug, meaning the times he'd sneak into your hut at night when you have just finished taking a shower close to the river. Newt would sneak in and hug you from behind, or plain scare you which he loved to do.

"I can see that" you tease. "Try not to be so obvious" you shim into your new pants. You look over his shoulder and notice Frypan prying so you turn around to take your shirt off. It isn’t like the guys haven’t seen you without much clothing before, you knew they have. Your hut being by the river meant going into it at night randomly and you knew they’d be on the lookout. You couldn’t blame them, you were the only girl for a while and boys were boys. It wasn’t like you didn’t eye some of them when the chance was given. They were your friends anyway, and Newt…well, whatever weird relationship you had. You two weren't public, but neither were you private. It isn’t complicated, but it doesn’t have a title either. Everyone knew you two had something going on but never called yourselves girlfriend or boyfriend. After everything that you have been through, there wasn't much time to place labels in the relationship even if you had time to act like one. 

"I am" he says and you can feel his gaze on the scar the Griever had left on your shoulder the time you had run in to find him when he had gone alone into the Maze. For him it was probably a reminder of what he had done and consequently of almost getting you killed. For you it was a reminder that you had risked your life for him and would do it again without question.

"Don't" you say knowing he was silently blaming himself, a shiver runs down your spine as he places his cold fingertips against the skin. You eye him over your shoulder and he frowns, "Newt…" you whisper to him and he turns you around. "Shouldn't you be changing or looking for clothes?"

"In a minute" he says and pulls you close to him and pecks your lips. "You know I won't let anything happen to-"

"Hey. We will be okay… As long as Thomas comes up with a plan, or we do" you say with a smirk and he chuckles. You run your hand through his hair and kiss him. It has been a while since you have felt his lips on yours and with all this madness it certainly was a small break from it all. He pulls away and looks over his shoulder before making you walk backwards against a corner and he resumes kissing you. His lips move slow and you sigh happily into him, his hands holding you close to him before pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. "We will be okay…"

"You two lovebirds done?" Frypan's voice echoes and your eyes widen.

"Yeah!" Newt says and you glare at him before pulling down your shirt over your head.

"Hurry" you say to him and take the flashlight from him as he changes. You smile to yourself as you take in his body. Newt was skinny alright but he had quite the arms and body. Helping in the garden did pay off and you felt lucky to sleep in those arms most nights...

"Enjoying the view, love?" He teases as he pulls a brown jacket on. For some reason the way he was dressed made him look so…

"Shut up, shank. Let's go" you shove him and he chuckles, taking a bag he had found and shoving some extra clothes. The lights start turning on and you hear a screech. "That can't be good" you stay still as you try to catch where the sound came from, so did Newt. "Let's get close to the others, yeah?" You say and he nods his head, reaching for your hand and leading you to the others.

"Run! Move!" Thomas shouts and you eye him as he and Minho run towards you.

"What the hell?" Frypan voices before everyone's eyes widened, noticing the Cranks running after them.

"Let's go!" You shout and all of you start running as fast as you could. You dodged cranks that would run into the windows and fall off the sides, you had your gun still with you and it was secure in your hand. You kept an eye on Newt as he ran, making sure he was ahead of you at all times. That way you'd keep him safe from the Cranks. p>

The group is running nonstop through what looked like a mall maybe. How did you know? No idea. It just gave you the vibes and with the electric escalators it confirmed it somewhat. Yet you could barely see a thing as all flashlights were being held randomly as you all ran. You stumbled as the group continued to run. "Guys!"

A Crank had fallen on top of Newt and you were quick to shoot the Crank who even after being hit tried to hurry to Newt. You ran towards it and kicked it, sending it flying against a window and down the floors.

"You okay?" Thomas asked Newt after helping him up as they continued to hurry.

"Yeah. Thanks, Tommy" he says and nods at you before running.

"It's a dead end!" Teresa shouts.

"Over here!" You pull the door open to show some stairs, you look back and notice the Cranks closing in on you and everyone went back and inside, closing the door, yet a hand reached and clawed at Winston as he fell, you managed to shoot the hand, the owner of it screeching unbelievably loud as it echoed.

You came down the stairs and hid under what looked like to be a wall in the darkness, the screams were heard further and you hoped you lost them. "Everyone okay?" You ask and everyone nods as they try to regain your breath, so were you. "Winston?" You turn your head to him.

"I'm fine" he says and your head nods. The boys take a piece of a shirt to place it around his wound.

"We should stay here for the night" you say. "I'll keep watch."

"I'm in" Newt voices and you frown.

"You need to rest" you two exchange a look and he nods his head signaling for you to get close. You push the bag off your back and place it besides him, sitting with your back against it and leaning into him, snuggling close, his arms securing you.

 The sun was starting to come up, heating the ground you had all fallen asleep in, even yourself. You probably lasted an hour or two before falling asleep, but you tried to keep it light in case you heard anything. In other words, you slept but didn't rest so well. "Come on, everyone" you yawn as you pull away from Newt's embrace to stand up. You stretched your legs and arms before turning to the group. Everyone gathers their belongings before continuing.

"What the hell happened to this place?" Frypan asks as you all resume your walk.

"It looks...burned up" you say as you look around.

The heat was starting to burn your face, so you wrap a scarf around your head and it probably wasn't that much of a good idea as it was hot as well making you sweat. Add to it that it seemed to be a desert storm around you and the wind barely left any visibility with all the sand. After climbing on top of a mountain of sand though, you finally saw the mountains, yet they looked days away on foot. "We are almost there" Thomas says and then Winston is falling down.

"Winston!" You shout as you run to his side. "Are you okay?"

He was too weak to speak, only coughing. "Come on, buddy" Thomas says and the boys pick him up.

"We can hide under that bridge" you say, grabbing the bags of the boys to help them as they carried Winston. Once at the bridge, they settled him down. You found the bridge to be some good shelter for a couple of hours. The wind was strong and would only complicate things, and Winston needed to rest, all of you did after those walks.

"Be like Y/N, she is keeping it together" Frypan jokes as he spoke with Aris and you scoff as you sit besides the guys, Teresa and Thomas being away from the group.

"Yeah, right. I barely slept and this heat is killing me" you toss your scarf on the floor with a frown.

"I told you I could keep watch too" Newt steps in, and he even sounded concern that you hadn’t gotten much sleep.

"Oh we know the watch you two would do. Going somewhere private and-" Minho starts doing kissing noises, so you pick up your scarf and toss it as his face.

"Shut up" you pretend to be serious yet you can't as Minho laughs.  

"It is true. Back at that place I thought we would have to move away in case we interrupted."

"Frypan, were you watching me change clothes?" You tease playfully.

"Yeah, Fry. Were you watching her?" Newt steps in, hands on his hip, him though, did not sound playful as you.

"Oh come on, Newt. You watched her change. Besides, it's not like we haven't seen her back at the Glade coming out of the-" You wince at that. You look at Newt and he was dead serious.

"Go on" his accent coming through. "Finish" he takes a step closer and Minho just laughs, earning a glare from the blonde.

"I mean- I know you and her-“ Fry seems to be looking for the right words, but they can’t find him.

Newt's body doesn't relax so you stand up and take his hand, your lips part to say something when a gun goes off besides you, you jump and your heart skips a beat from the sound. Winston.

"Wow. Wow. Hey!" You turn and rush to Winston. Newt is quick to call Thomas and everyone rushes to take the gun away from the injured boy.

"What happened?" Thomas asked as he got closer.

"I don't know, he just woke up and grabbed the gun and-" Fry trailed off.

"Hey, Winston" you kneel down on his left side.

"It's growing inside me…" he lifts up his shirt. It looked so bad in so little time. Black blood, black veins, he looked paler… "I'm not gonna make it…" and deep down you knew it, but there was that one part of you who didn't want to let go. He was part of the family.

"Winston…" you breathe out as you feel a knot on your throat.

"Please…" he reaches for the gun in Newt's hand and your eyes close for an instant. "Don't let me turn into one of them…" The blonde crouches beside him and hands Winston the gun. 

"Thank you…" Winston says weakly.

"Goodbye, Winston…" a sob shakes through you as you stand up, Frypan places a comforting hand on your shoulder and you lean against him.

"Go…" Winston says and smiles weakly at you, a tear rolling down his cheek and you are quick to look away and gather your things.

The group walks silently away, and you chew on your lips nervously. Then the gunshot echoes through the open area and the air gets caught on your throat and you forget to breathe. You stop on your tracks and lose your balance for a moment, eyes shutting tight. Yet another Glader you were unable to help. You didn’t want more of this. You wanted it to be over.

 At last you have all reached a building in the desert, where you had hid after Minho got struck by lightning. Cranks were chained everywhere and a girl had come down referring to them as the guard dogs. After that you found the girl's name to be Brenda, who took you to a man, Jorge, you had the feeling he would sell you all back to Wicked. Yet he had not, and even though he had you all dangling from ropes with your heads down, he said he would help. After that it was a blur, you had gone down a zipline to escape from the Wicked guards and Janson and in the process Thomas and Brenda had gotten lost. Jorge though, insisted to keep moving knowing Brenda knew where to meet them and they should wait there. 

Upon arriving at a place asking for Marcus, you had to drink a strange looking liquid to get in, you feel like you had drunk more than the others for being the first one. No sign of this Marcus. The place was awfully crowded and Minho stood behind you, Newt upfront, Frypan covering for Teresa. The music is going through your body and you start to sway and smile. If this is where you will be waiting for Thomas and Brenda, might as well enjoy some music, right? It wasn’t long until things started to get confusing. The familiar metallic grinding together echoed and you stood still. You recognized it too well, it was a griever, but you couldn't spot it through the crowd. Why would a Griever be in this crowd? You spin quickly as you hear it again, yet no sign. You spin to the other side and the screech gets louder before it's just too much and you scream, holding your hand to your ears. It's metallic sound echoing through your ears and you shake your head.

"They are not real. They are not real." You repeat in whispers. A hand is offered to you and when you look up, you shake your head. "No. No. No!" Newt was offering his hand to you, black veins covered his once pale face, black goo coming from his mouth offering a sinister smile. You pull away and someone lifts you up, turning you around and there was Winston and Alby, looking like Cranks. Then the piercing screech of the Griever echoed again now with the sound of the walls from the Glade. "Stop! Make it stop!!!!" You scream as tears stream down your cheeks.

"Y/N! Love!" Newt called out as he shakes you and your eyes go wide open. You were no longer in the crowd, but in an open room with chairs and couches. Your breath was heavy from all the screaming. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Don't make her think of it." Minho says quickly and you notice you were on the floor, your back to his front. "Easy. Just relax." Minho runs a hand through your hair.

"I just need to get some air" you say before standing up seconds after, Newt helping you out before you walked out to what you guessed was behind the club. You took the chance to look around in hopes of spotting Thomas and Brenda, but no luck. You were starting to get worried. It had been a long walk from the place you have seen them last, how could they make it if it was just them all alone in this place?

"You okay, love?" Newt asks as he walks to you, you smile and turn around.

"Yeah. It's just…What I saw...it was too much" you shake your head.

"You don’t have to remember it" he comforts in a soft voice and you smile up at him. He was so understanding you just wanted to get up and hug him. 

"I think… I haven't gotten over it…" you voice and he nods his head, he knew what you referred to. You two sit against a wall that threw a shade just enough to hide from the scorching sun. "I'm glad I can remember most of those things, I guess...In a way. I wonder sometimes if they erased part of those memories, put in new ones...Some things seemed that they happened differently, you know?"

”If you ever have any doubts, I can help with that,” he says. “I remember most things” he sounds proud of himself.

”I know” you give him a small shove with your shoulder as you smile. “Its just...The things that happened after, and the memories that came back from being stung, what happened after they brought me back to the Maze...Some things just don’t make much sense.”

”Well...can’t help much with those,” he admits. You had spent a year or so in the Maze. Your memories came to you quite frequently. You didn’t voice it, but it would be a really bad headache every time they came in. “All I know is that I remember seeing you again and I just wanted to go on and-” 

"They are here" Minho interrupts and in perfect sync, Newt and you turn to Minho with a glare. "Sorry" he grins before walking away.

Jorge finds Marcus and beats him up, gets a car enough for all of you to fit to get to the Right Arm and once there, you could see everyone feeling at ease. Thomas was in a tent with Brenda and a doctor after he saved her from the crank bite. Everyone was doing their own thing and you watched them from the rocks on top of a small mountain by yourself. You smiled at the scene. Everyone seemed happy, away from Wicked, no worries for now. You could all be happy now as soon as Vince took you to the Safe Haven he had mentioned. It sounded like paradise, and you couldn't be happier.

"Penny for your thoughts" Newt teases as he places a jacket around your shoulders. "Brought ya' some gloves" he sits beside you and you scoot closer to lean against him. "You okay, love?"

"I think I've never been better" you admit. "Away from Wicked, soon on our way to the Safe Haven, away from everything…" you trail off.  

"Yeah, it is good to know we are done with that."

"Mhm" you hum, he pulls you closer and kisses your temple. "I kept thinking…" you start.

"Might be a first" the blonde jokes and you push him playfully.

"Like I was saying!" You giggle and he pulls you close again and kisses your cheek. "About the Maze, and how they just took me out and then threw me back in…It didn’t make any sense.”

"It still doesn't," he admits with a shrug.

"I do remember something though, them mentioning feelings and wanting to see how it affected us. How it could be a variable…" you pause. "I remember them mentioning you. Us." This takes Newt's attention and he looks down at you. "I don't remember much, but they said that after what happened to you and me coming in and spending time together changed something. Then it changed again when I disappeared at the Maze. It also happened to the others, the experience of losing someone, making it afterwards and how it made something in the brain stronger" you frown at the thought of how Wicked could play with their minds just to see how they would all react.

"We all lost our bloody minds, love" Newt says. "Minho would constantly go out there looking for you. Hoping you'd be alive" he says and you notice his gaze soften. "He gave up when he found a Griever's nest that had your bag. We realized we lost you...I lost you" he frowns. "It was so strange to see you again, walking out after a year."

"I could barely remember things. It was like they wiped out details that connected my memories. I remember going into the Maze and getting lost, getting stung by a Griever and memories rushed gave me a whiplash. Then I woke up in a white room and I had these...things in my head and I could see you all...but I only remember that much” you admit.

"You don't remember how you got back in?"

"Not really" you shake your head. "Only that I was unconscious and waking up. I remembered fragments of the Maze so I think that is why I made it out, if not probably I'd be dead" you admit. "I remember afterwards though" you smile and he does as well. "I remember watching you by what was supposed to be my grave as soon as the walls opened…”

By instinct, his arms held you closer to him. "I remember looking up and seeing you. I thought I was hallucinating on Gally's moonshine" he chuckles.

"I miss that moonshine. I could drink one right now" you giggle and snuggle closer to Newt. The wind was turning quite chilly now.

"You know, now that we are on top of a mountain like I once said…" Newt trails off and smiles down at you, your heart pounding hard against your chest.

"You are really doing this?" You laugh nervously.

"Before one of those bloody shanks interrupt me" the blonde says and you pull away from him to be able to take him in. His brown eyes had that little twinkle and his smile was just...contagious. "Y/N" he starts. "We have known each other for two years now, unless you count the one you were away" he says and you roll your eyes. "And I don't know how much time we have, because we don't know if this Safe Haven will keep Wicked away but...I want to-"

"They are coming! Everybody get down!" You hear Thomas scream from a distance.

Newt closes his eyes in annoyance and sigh, "Will I ever not be interrupted?" He says and you decide to turn to where Thomas was coming from. "What does this sh-" Newt's eyes widened and you follow his gaze. The Bergs.

"How did they find us?!" You ask as you stand up, Newt by your side.

"I think we already know," Newt says, quickly taking your hand and you all move to reach the others.

"Get all the weapons you can" Vince says and the first impacts of the Bergs start hitting the camp.

"Incoming!" Minho shouts and you all run for cover.

You and Newt run quickly behind a rock, a missile hitting right besides you made Newt shield you with your body. "You okay?!"

"I'm fine" you nod your head and you both raise from your spot to see the scenario before you. You see a guard getting knocked over and you reach for the gun, a shotgun, perfect! "Newt go to Vince, I'll cover!"

Newt goes to Vince and you run behind him, shooting one more guard. Upon reaching Vince, he gives Newt and Minho a weapon and everyone continues to shoot to cover each other. It turned to be too much for everyone, except Wicked and you had been defeated. You get lined up as guards read your tags, so you remain still.

"A6" the guard says as they scan yours, as he moves to the next one, you bring your hands down from your head and pull a small blade you had on your shoe and stab the guard on his leg.

"Y/N, don't resist please!" Teresa says as she gets closer to you. Two guards come your way and hit you with a nightstick on your back.

"Hey, leave her alone!" You hear Newt shout as he struggles.

"You are a traitor!" Even after the impact, you struggle to try to reach Teresa. "You killed them! You are killing us! We-" You scream at her, a guard binding your arms and just in time, Jorge and Brenda hit one of the helis with the truck and open fire. Frypan, who was right behind you, pounces on the guard and you move away, taking the nightstick and hitting him with it. "Thanks, Fry" you both high five before running. They had taken most of the subjects into the Berg, like Aris and Sonya, and you see one that catches your eye. "Minho!"

Thomas and Newt turn to your voice and rush to try to reach Minho but there was no luck. They were closing the door of the Berg and the camp no longer had enough ammo to take it down. You drop on your knees on the floor in defeat, anger and revenge combining in your body. All against Wicked. All against Teresa. 

The Berg left and you found yourself not moving, watching it go. Thinking. Plotting. When Newt found you, your hands were shaking, your cheeks with warm streams of tears that you hadn't noticed when they started coming out. "Come on, love" Newt whispers in a soothing way but you stay still.

"I'm going to kill her…" you mutter.

"We will get Minho. Even if it is the last thing we do. There has to be a way" he assures you, yet you don't meet his eyes.

"We have to end this! How many more people she will take away from us for this stupid cure!?" You scream and Newt winces before taking your hands.

"We will find a way, love. Tommy will find a way" he says as he drops to the floor with you. "But we need to be calm upstairs to make it work okay? We will get Minho back" a sob shakes you and he pulls you into his arms and you break. You wrap your arms around him and hide your face on his neck.

After a few minutes, Newt helps you up and Thomas is giving his speech, wanting to kill Ava and end Wicked as we get Minho back. While everyone hesitated and called Thomas' plan suicide, you couldn't agree more with the shank. They had to be stopped before they could take anyone else you loved. "I'm in" you say and stand up, Newt's eyes widen at your willingness.

"That's a great speech, kid." Vince says. "What's the plan?"

You have to mentally face palm yourself at the question because there was a ninety-nine perfect  chance that Thomas did not have a plan.

[melyaliz]

Remember me pt 1

Fandom: My Hero Academia 

Summary: One moment Olive is just living her life in America the next it is 5 years in the future and this incredibly out of her league blonde is speaking to her in a langue she barely knows calling her his wife.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x OC 

Notes: This idea came to me last week while I was supposed to be prepping to edit my novel. I was like “I should just write the idea out.” A week later and over 30k words... I now bring it to you. 

ALSO! I have a newsletter you guys! It’s where I will keep you updated on on novel (and other) related things. My website and short story should be up next Friday to stay tuned for that :) 

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive​

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

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-0-0-0--- Olive ---0-0-0-

Black eyes, rimmed with a thin blue line. Glowing in a way that was almost predatory like. It reminded her of a shark moving toward her. She felt like she was in water, or using her querk. Slowly trying to escape from something that was much faster in a black abyss. 

 Nothing but those glowing blue eyes were visible. 

 Olive’s lungs filled with hot dry air making her cough. The taste of ash and smoke filling her lungs as she tried to pull her consciousness awake. Blinking she saw a car on fire in front of her along with small fires spread across the parking lot of a large mall. One she did not recognize.   

 Taking a step back she looked around trying to get her bearings. Her eyes slowly adjusting to the world around her. It felt like a dream as if someone had just thrown her into this situation. No memories of how she got here or what was going on. 

Maybe she was dreaming? 

Touching her face she blinked a few times as she saw people screaming and running from the building. They were saying things but she couldn’t quite make out what. As if they were just making noises.

  What was going on? What happened? Where was she? Panic slowly rising in her chest with the thought that she had no idea what to do or where to go. Her breaths become shallow as panic began to wash over her. 

 “Olive! Olive!” the sound of her name being called broke her out of her stupor as a tall red-haired man ran up to her grabbing her arms. A stream of Japanese came flowing out of his mouth and she was lost. Only knowing a few phrases she blinked up at this stranger.

 “I don’t know…?” she said slowly hoping he would understand, “English.” she said “No Japanese?” 

 He looked taken back for a moment “You go” he said in broken English, accent heavy, pointing at the street. “Police will help, wait there?” 

 Nodding she followed the crowd and stood with the others waiting for Red to come back. Not that it mattered since he wasn’t going to be able to talk to her. But also, as she was slowly realizing by overhearing people talking around her, that she wasn’t in America anymore and had NO idea where to go or what to do. So Red was her best option at this point. Maybe she could use a translator app? Her mind went into overdrive trying to think of what to do. And then, as it always did when she was panicking her thoughts turned to the only person who was her calm center. 

 Eliott.

 Where was he? Reaching around she realized she had a purse with her. One she didn’t recognize. It was way too nice. Was that a Chanel label? Holding up the bag she looked it over totally confused. Did she steal this? Ok, she was dreaming. There was no way this was real. 

 But it felt so real. 

 Frowning she rifled through the bag looking for her phone. She just wanted to call Eliott. Desperation filling her body, her heart pounding so hard in her chest it felt like it was going to burst out of her chest. She just wanted her husband. 

 There was a huge explosion and a few people cheered all of them speaking excitedly in Japanese to each other. The excitement getting louder and louder, people pointing. Turning Olive stood up with the crowd to see a blonde-haired man slowly walking toward the crowd dragging a horned man by the collar of his shirt. Behind him, the red-haired man from earlier held three others on his shoulders. 

 As he grew closer the blonde turned his eyes meeting Olive’s. His red eyes were so intense that something in her stomach dropped. A weird calm washing over her as he studied her. He felt like something from another life. Dejavu. A dream long forgotten. 

 “Olive,” his voice was gravely as he dropped the man he had been dragging walking toward her. Looking down at her he placed his arms on her shoulders “what the hell you baka?” he said leaning forward pulling the dazed woman into a strong hug. He smelled like smoke and something sweet, like sugar. It kind of reminded her of camping. However, why this man was hugging her she had NO idea. 

 And then he pulled back slightly, his eyes fluttering for a moment, leaning toward her face as if he was about to kiss her.  Olive, who was still trying to gain her bearings, felt her whole body tense in pure shock. 

 What.

 The.

 Actual. 

 Fuck? 

 “Dude I’m married,” she said swatting away his arms from her side before pushing him away. Her face flushed, eyes glassy as tears threatened to spill over from feeling so overwhelmed by it all.. 

 The blonde’s eyes grew wide studying her for a moment, then gently his hand moved from her shoulder to her forehead speaking in Japanese. The red-haired man had come up behind him and seemed to be responding to what he was saying back. A flush of anger spread over Olive, she had just told his guy she was married and he was still trying to come on to her. Her already very frayed emotions were so tight Olive couldn’t deal with this anymore. Jaw clenched she swatted away this way too friendly guy’s hand.

 “Look. No I’m...” she held up her hand and that’s when she saw it. 

 A ring, but it wasn’t hers.

 “What?” she looked down at her hand confused. Was she even in her own body? What was going on? Her hands looked like hers? Do people recognize their own hands? It felt like her body. But how could you tell? 

 It was too much for her. Her heart pounding in her ears and that campfire smell was all around her filling her lungs. Her breath became shallow as colored spots filled her vision. 

 And then everything went black. 

 -0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 You get one true love in your life. One person, you are meant to be with. Olive had always believed that. Especially after meeting Eliott. He had a killer sense of humor and was always so calm. For a girl who always seemed to deal with anxiety and self-doubt the dirty blonde haired man who would rather be enjoying life than dealing with the drama was everything, Olive had wanted and needed in her life. 

 It wasn’t some epic romance, it was just… normal. From the first time he brought her out for burgers and to watch fireworks. 

 They ended up in the wrong location missing the entire show. But it didn’t matter, they were too busy talking about their lives. They had ended up staying on the side of that grassy hill just laughing and joking around until 2 am. 

 He fit so easily into her life Olive had a hard time remembering what it was like without him. She wasn’t as happy that was for sure. 

 And then one day he was gone. 

 Like a flash from the cameras, he would use.

 As an action photographer, he was hired by both sports and hero agencies for promotional work. Olive had worried about him when he had gotten the job  but with his quirk of being able to walk on walls, he normally could stay out of the way enough to keep himself safe. 

 Until a month ago when he wasn’t. 

 A month ago when he was dead. 

 And Olive’s life wasn’t the same. 

 A month after a loss is such a weird time. It’s like a limbo between everyone expecting her to be better and her inability to stop crying. 

 Olive still woke up reaching out for him in the middle of the night only to find an empty bed. Still felt like she could see him around every corner. Still waited for him to come through that door making some snarky joke about some idiot who walked into his shot. 

 His presence had left such a huge hole in her life and a bigger one in her heart. 

 That morning she woke up rubbing her swollen eyes looking at herself in the mirror. She was tired of this. Tired of being sad. Tired of missing him. Just tired. Selfishly she just wanted to skip this part of the morning process and go back to being happy again. After all, there was no way she could be sad forever... right? They say time heals all wounds. (Whoever they were.) But she wanted that healing now. 

 But no one could do that but her. 

 So sitting down she opened her laptop. Emails from her boss, editor, and an older client of hers littered her email. Scrolling through she tried to decide which one she wanted. She didn’t have the creative energy to talk to her editor and her boss could wait until Monday. 

 But maybe ghostwriting would help distract her? The client she used to work with had a new story and he was desperate. And in a way she was too. 

 So clicking the email she started to read what he had to say. 

 And then she was here. 

 In the parking lot of a burning mall in Japan. 

 The hospital she woke up in was sterile white reminding her of the inside of an apple store. Soft lights filled the room as her eyes fluttered open. She looked around slowly sitting up. Her head was pounding and part of her just wanted to lay back down. But she also wanted some water, her throat feeling ashy crying out for moisture. And maybe an answer to what the hell was going on? 

 Slowly Olive pulled herself into a sitting position, her body ached from tension but she didn’t really see any other major injuries. Looking around the room praying for a glass of water her eyes instead found a phone sitting on the table next to her. A text on top of the slue of notifications caught her attention.

 Lilly Pond: Are you ok? Call me when you get up.

 Her best friend. Oh thank god, someone she recognized. This meant she could rule out getting teleported to a different dimension off her list of what the fuck was going on. 

 Her heart pounded in her chest as she quickly unlocked the phone. Thank god for smart technology and face recognition. (She wouldn’t have known what to do without it). Looking down at the phone there was a brief moment where she forgot why she had opened her phone. Distracted by the image of three young children who she didn’t recognize looked back up at her from her phone background. 

 Dear god, please don’t tell her she had kids along with a strange wedding ring. Her heart couldn’t handle a full-on Overboard situation. She felt sick and desperate to hear a familiar voice. Something she recognized. 

 Clicking the name she fumbled for a bit until she figured out how to call. 

 “Olive?” Lilly’s voice was desperate, “Olive are you ok? Katsuki told me…” 

 “What? Who?” Olive cut her friend off confused by this Katsuski, “Lilly I don’t know where I am… I… I think I’m in Japan.” 

 There was a long pause on the other end. “Yeah Olive… you…” Another long pause, Olive could tell her bestie was trying to remain calm for her sake, “What do you remember?” In the background, Olive heard a little voice say something. But Lilly didn’t have kids… right? 

 “I… Eliott’s funeral, uhhh going back to work. I think it’s been maybe a month since he died?” who was she kidding, she knew it was 4 weeks and 3 days. But she didn't want to sound like she was counting. 

 “Olive, it’s been over 5 years since Eliott died.” 

 Olive felt like she was going to throw up. Wait... what?

 “What?” she felt like there was a mound of sand in her throat. She wanted to gag at the feeling. Her heart raced so fast she couldn’t breathe. She was suffocating. “But, that’s not possible. Eliott.. I… Lilly why can’t I remember anything!?! Why the FUCK AM I IN JAPAN!?!” 

 “Olive you need to calm down...”

 Olive wanted Eliott, she wanted his stormy gray-blue eyes and calm voice to tell her to just breathe. ‘If you're breathing you're alive, just keep breathing.’ was what he would always say when she was working herself up over something that probably didn't matter. She missed him, she wanted him. 

 “No” Olive sobbed covering her mouth, “I...” 

 “Is Kasusuki there? Olive? Nate? call Kasushk she’s freaking out..” Lilly’s voice called off the phone to her fiance, well it would be husband at this point. Wait was that little voice? 

 The blonde from earlier came rushing in cutting off her millions of thoughts. He was holding his phone to his ear but quickly hung up as he saw her. Those red eyes wide as he walked up to her. “Olive…” he said softly as he approached. At the sound of her name, she shrunk back shaking her head slightly.

 “Lilly, I honestly don’t know what’s going on.” 

 “That’s your husband Olive.” Lilly’s voice said back, “You moved to Japan with him two and a half years ago.” 

 “I’m going to be sick.” she choked out. “This is a dream, I can't…” 

 “Oh Olive” Lilly’s voice sounded far away as Olive felt dizzy.

 “No, no no.” the blonde said -what did Lilly call him? Suki?- gently prying the phone out of her hand, “Calm down, focus. Don’t pass out.” 

 “I don’t know what’s going on,” Olive told him, trying to make him understand. Trying to make herself understand.

 “Yeah I can tell.” he said, “They don’t know why. They said you were fine.” 

 “They?” 

 “The Doctors.” 

 “Oh.” her voice trailed off for a moment as he picked up her phone Lilly still on the other end. 

 “I have her. She will call you back,” he said before hanging up. A flash of anger folded Olive. How dare he just hang up on her best friend.

 “Uhhh excuse me! I was talking to her.” 

 “You can call her back, I need you to talk to me,” he said brushing away her comment. A flicker of a smile flashed over his face for a moment and Olive had no idea why. This wasn’t funny. Why would he be laughing? 

 “Who are you?” Olive said studying him unsure about the man next to her. She trusted Lilly when she said she was married to him but also… she didn’t trust him. 

 She didn’t know him. 

 “I’m your husband,” his voice softened as his gaze roamed over her as if looking for injuries. Probably not believing the doctors. “What is the last thing you remember?” 

 “I… Eliott.” her voice was soft and she didn’t miss the way he flinched at the name. “He… He’s dead.” 

 “Yeah” he said nodded gently brushing away a strand of her dark hair away from her face.

 “And now I’m in Japan.” She was in shock, trying to make sense of it all. 

 “Yeah,” was his simple resonance.  

 “And I don’t know how,” she concluded unsure how to explain to this complete stranger that he was, in fact, a complete stranger to her.  

 He sighed looking down at her hands, his finger brushing over the large yellow diamond on her left hand. Olive looked down as well, it was much larger and impressive than her ring. But… it felt so wrong. Looking back up at him she felt like she was going to cry again.

 “Are you going to cry?” he asked, it sounded like a statement. She shook her head already feeling hot tears welling up in her eyes.

 “No” 

 He sighed, it sounded frustrated and made her heart pound with an anxiety she hadn’t felt in years. But he still hugged her, pulling her close enveloping her in that sweet warm scent she had smelled at the mall. However, this time in the calm of the hospital room it was confronting. Or as comforting as a stranger hugging you could be.  

 She felt his arms tightened around her as she let out a shaky sob. His grip was so strong as if he was scared she would run away.

 But where would she go if she tried?  

-GET TAGGED!-

Story Tag: @0hmydeku @inumorph @it-jinxed-us @myraticm

[mostfacinorous]

GO Whumptober Day 31: Today’s Special- Torture [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12][13][14][15][16][17][18][19][20][21][22][23][24][25][26][27][28][29][30]

“You know,” Crowley heard, as he slowly woke. “Every hunter worth their salt has a tracking device they keep on their person. And his led me straight to you. So tell me the truth: where is Mathias?” 

Crowley opened his eyes to find himself in a mostly dark room, tied to a chair, plastic spread out on the floor around him, and floodlights hitting him right in the eyes. 

There was a woman standing in front of him, arms crossed and looking both unimpressed and threatening. 

“I mean-- I ate him.” Crowley answered, feeling a mite groggy, like he may have been drugged. The pounding in his skull backed up that theory. 

“Oh, a jokester. Funny. Mathias is my brother, so I hope for your sake he’s around here somewhere.” 

Crowley groaned.

“Mathias sent a child after me by lying to her about the source of her ma’s illness, and then he attacked when I turned up to help them, so I turned into a snake and ate him.” Crowley told her. “I’m not joking, and I’m awful sorry for your loss, though he was a bit of a prick.” 

The woman looked less than pleased with that answer, and paced back and forth a bit. 

“You wanna talk me through what you’re thinking, or would you rather wear a hole in that tarp?” He finally asked. 

“Well, your eyes say demon, so that makes your story a little more plausible. I don’t want to believe my brother’s dead, because if I come home without him, my father will be furious.” 

Crowley listened, nodding. 

“So I suppose,” she continued, “My options are to take you back to my father and let you tell him your story, and hope I get let off the hook while he kills you slowly, a little bit at a time, or, I do it myself, here and now, save myself the trouble of the roadtrip with you, and know I’ll probably kill you off faster than he would, so it’s really sort of a favor, on account of how you’re right, and my brother was a prick.” 

“Sounds like either way is pretty shit, as far as options go on my end.” Crowley quipped, and she huffed a little laugh. 

“Shame about you eating him,” she responded. “I feel like we really coulda grown to like one another.” 

---

Crowley swam in and out of consciousness for the next several hours, as this incredibly disturbed human woman made a game of removing bits of him and putting them in labelled mason jars. 

It really was like some kind of parody of a decor show, the way she tied little ribbons around each one, and labelled them with what they were and the time when she removed them from him. 

He had no idea where they were or how they’d got there, but she’d done a damn good job of making sure she wouldn’t be interrupted. 

He’d yelled and cried and screamed as loud as he could, but it seemed like there were no neighbors around to hear, or care, or help. 

And he had no idea where Aziraphale was. He wished he could call to him, though, reach him, ask for some kind of way out of here. 

“So it occurs to me,” Amber said, for that was her name, and Crowley hated that she’d bothered telling him about her, because he sympathized now, a little. 

“I haven’t had much opportunity to learn about demons, and how they react to things. For example:” She held up a bottle of salt. “I can make a circle with this, and you can’t leave it, yeah? But what happens if I just…”

She upended the bottle over his chest, slashed open and bleeding sluggishly as it was. 

He screamed again as the salt began to dissolve in his blood and sting at the open skin. 

She watched, dispassionately, and when he voice broke and his screams turned to little whimpers, she hummed to herself. 

“I’d say that was about on par with a human, actually.” She noted. “Which is a real pity, I expected more… fireworks, or the like.” 

Crowley twisted his wrist back and forth, trying again to work his hand free, but she laughed. 

His fingers were broken; she’d done that first thing, so even if he could get free, the act of summoning a miracle would be even more painful. 

“How about the old folklore fixes, eh? Silver? Iron? Garlic?” 

“Werewolves, fairies, and vampires. Not me.” He answered her, voice rough from screaming and ruining his attempt at sounding cool. 

“And how about holy water? Does that do anything?” 

He croaked out a little laugh.

“Tingles a bit. Demons use it as hot sauce.” 

He had loosened the duck tape around his wrist enough to be able to move his hand a bit, and he smashed it against the chair, forcing his broken bones back into some semblance of being hand shaped.

“Hm. Hot sauce, you say?” She asked, and he didn’t like that at all. He wiggled his fingers, braced himself, and summoned a miracle.

“Maybe I should go get you some, then. After all, you are being punished for having eaten my brother-- maybe keeping your mouth on a constant holy water drip will make the punishment fit the crime a little better.” 

Crowley sucked in air, in too much pain to try and figure out how to talk his way out of that one. 

“Did I hear,” A new voice said in the darkness, and Crowley felt his eyes filling with tears of relief, “That you are in the market for some holy water?” 

Aziraphale stepped forward, looking prim and proper as ever, and he’d even pulled out his halo and wings for the occasion. 

Amber looked up at him in awe.

“You’re an angel aren’t you?” She asked, and Aziraphale smiled. 

“I am. And it seems you’ve captured my own personal adversary.” He flicked his eyes towards Crowley, and Crowley whined at the cold expression in them. 

Oh, Aziraphale was pissed. And worse, he was righteous. 

“Oh, did you want to get in on this? It turns out he ate my brother, so…” 

“Were you aware,” Aziraphale asked, voice still light and sweet and casual, “That your brother had made a deal with devils? That your brother kidnapped me, and sold me to hell?” 

Amber took a step back as Aziraphale turned to look at her again. 

“What? No, I mean, Mathias was an arse, but…” 

“Your brother.” Aziraphale said, advancing on her, “Was a monster. And so are you.” 

Crowley could not actually see what happened, but he did see that Aziraphale did not so much as lift a finger. 

Amber screamed and fell to her knees, her eyes bleeding, her mouth wide open and her tongue suddenly missing. 

“Crowley, darling, I think you had better close your eyes.” Aziraphale warned him, and, when he’d obeyed, he could see the bright holy light that suddenly shone throughout the room even through his closed eyelids. It stabbed into him and set his head off again, and he whimpered. 

Just as fast as it began, it ended, and then Aziraphale was there. 

“Alright, here we are, I am so sorry. Come on, let’s get you out of here, get you healed up.” 

“What-- what did you do with her?” Crowley asked. “She was just-- her and Mathias both, their dad…” 

“Oh, I know.” Aziraphale told him. “I sent her body back to her father, covered in writing that tells the entire story of their awful line. No further children will be born to them. The old man will see his daughter, read my letter, and then never see again. And whatever monster he is running from will finally be able to catch up.”

Aziraphale’s voice echoed with a sort of certainty, a knowledge beyond what they knew, and Crowley realized he was tapping into the weapons available to angels in the most extreme of circumstances. The sorts of weapons he’d have been given back in the beginning, back when it was a very real war, and he’d been set out to kill demons like Crowley. 

Instead, now, he was using those powers in defense of a demon. 

“I don’t think heaven’s gonna like this too much.” Crowley told him, head lolling as they moved, and suddenly Crowley realized he was being carried. 

“I don’t give two fucks what heaven does and doesn’t like!” Aziraphale said hotly, but sounding more like himself. “I won’t let anyone take you from me again!” 

Crowley smiled at that, even though, as they crossed out of the darkness and into the sunlight, his headache flared up, and all the moving was jostling the salt in his chest wounds. 

He was woozy and in and out of it, and Aziraphale got him laid out on the grass by a roadside, the day crisp and bright and lovely, and Crowley felt cold and vague. 

“That crazy bint killed me, didn’t she?” He asked, and Aziraphale’s eyes flashed, brighter even than the noonday sun. 

“Not if I’ve anything to say about it.” He answered. “I am so very sorry,” He added, softer and sweet. 

Crowley sighed, trying not to tense even though he knew what was coming next. 

Or, he thought he knew. Aziraphale had done some laying of hands on him before, once or twice, and it was terrible for them both each time. They both suffered when they went about helping one another that intimately. So he tried to prepare for more pain. 

What he felt instead, though, was Aziraphale’s hand on the side of his face, and then his lips on his, and he was kissing him back to life. 

And somehow, it didn’t hurt. 

It was like being dunked suddenly into a cold pool, a shock to the system, unpleasant, but bracing. He felt alert again, like he’d just woken, and he felt the pain in his chest going away, the throbbing in his fingers ceasing as everything straightened out and reknitted itself, pieces regrowing and reattaching and healing. 

And Aziraphale was kissing him. 

When he was done, Crowley chased after his retreating lips, panting and confused. 

“That didn’t-- it didn’t hurt me at all. Did it-- are you alright?” He demanded, sitting up and reaching for Aziraphale to catch him in case he fainted from the efforts.

But Aziraphale just smiled. 

“When God said she wanted us to be closer,” He said, sounding, finally like himself, “I suspect this is more what she had in mind.” 

“You mean I could have been kissing you since winter?” 

Aziraphale laughed and helped Crowley to his feet. 

“If we weren’t so scared, I would say we could have been kissing for much longer than that. But, yes. I don’t think we’ll have any problems with healing one another any longer.” 

Crowley felt tears coming to his eyes again, and he grabbed hold of Aziraphale and held onto him tightly. 

“Let’s go find somewhere that’s quiet.” He requested. “Somewhere out of the city. You bring your books, I’ll bring my plants… and with any luck neither of us will have to heal the other ever again.” 

“Oh, Crowley.” Aziraphale said on a sigh, “That sounds delightful. How do you feel about the south downs?”

“If you’re there?” Crowley told him, as he reached to pull him into another kiss. “Better than heaven could ever be.”

[agaystormcloud]

The Pressure That Comes Within - Miraculous Ladybug

   In which Chat is the only person who doesn’t expect something from her

Good old MariChat :D  (Feel free to DM any criticisms on my work)

(1 paragraph mentions Self Harm and Eating Disorders and may be potentially triggering, if you would like to skip it is marked by *** lines)

......................................................................................................................

There was a lot of pressure in Marinette’s life, despite what everyone assumed from her. Her teachers expected her to be a good example for students like Chloe, she had her job as Class Representative ( or she used to), her friends expected her to help babysit and hang out with them, her parents expected her to get good grades and help in the store sometimes, Jagged and a few other people expected her to be able to do commission work, Paris expected her to be the hero they needed, and Chat… Well she didn’t know what Chat expected from her on either side of the mask

There was a lot of pressure in Marinette’s life, despite what everyone assumed from her.  Her teachers expected her to be a good example for students like Chloe, she had her job as Class Representative ( or she used to), her friends expected her to help babysit and hang out with them, her parents expected her to get good grades and help in the store sometimes, Jagged and a few other people expected her to be able to do commission work, Paris expected her to be the hero they needed, and Chat…  Well she didn’t know what Chat expected from her on either side of the mask, he’d visited Marinette a handful of times in her home.  He was usually a very welcome distraction from her problems, and something to pay attention to while she worked.  On the other hand, in the mask all he expected from her was her kindness and to be his partner (like everyone else, that meant saving Paris, but with him it was different.  He also supported her, they were equals).  

  Knowing all of this, it wasn’t very hard for Marinette to feel overwhelmed and out of control sometimes.  Of course, individually everything shouldn’t be that overwhelming, but all together ended up with a very tired and overworked teenage girl.  With the extra push of Lila isolating her from her friends, and the news's remarks on Ladybug’s appearance.  

  The obvious solution would be to talk to tikki, but she was often tired after their fights, which were some of her hardest times.  She very often thought of alternatives, most of them more destructive than you would be led to believe from the holder of the miraculous of creation.

*** Possibly Triggering content***

  She’d tried monitoring her eating to curve down her weight, but her impulses were too strong.  Afterwards, and whenever she thought back on the situation, she labeled herself as a fatty or pig.  Someone unable to control themselves, yet again.  The other option, was much worse to think about, she’d thought about S*lf H*arm before, but the closest she’d gotten was scrubbing away at her frustrated doodles on her arms.  She hated to admit that she wanted to do more, but she shelved it away under ‘forbidden things’, she chickened out again, like always.

**content end**

  On the subject of destruction, a certain black cat usually helped, but he only came by on Wednesdays and Fridays (his patrol nights), if at all.  She stepped out onto the patio, silently pleading Chat would just show up and help her solve all her problems.  The cold night wind bit her skin, and she responsively tugged on her scarf.  She was alone with only her thoughts to keep her company, all of them.  The ones that yearned for self-destruction as the solution pulled at her arms, thoughts of each responsibility swirled around her head, and she was coated in a layer of guilt.  Not everything was as magically solved as with her Lucky Charm’s reset.  

  “Screw magic” she whispered hoarsely, as she hadn’t really spoken in hours.  She slipped back into her room, grabbed her new sneakers, and threw on a comfortable outfit.  The cap she’d designed, but everything else was just laying around.  

  As she slipped out the back door, she didn’t quite know where she was going, but she reasoned being lost in her thoughts justified being lost in Paris.  Her feet carried her from street to street until she landed at the eiffel tower, looming high above her.  She grabbed a ticket and climbed the steps of the tower, an odd experience compared to just swinging up.  Daring herself, she climbed out and sat just off from where she and Chat usually met for patrol.  Collecting her thoughts felt almost easier up there, it was familiar.  She was almost done (the same regard to crying), and started getting up, and back to the allowed areas.  As she turned to leave, she was met with a block in her path, and stumbled, she would’ve fell if not for him grabbing her arms to help her back up.

  “Careful there, purr-incess” he warned her, pulling The shorter girl back up onto the platform behind him.

  “Thank you, Chat,” she replied, taking in the scenario.  She might have been able to help herself back up regardless, but she considered herself lucky to have Chat there to catch her.

  “And what would you be doing up here all by yourself in the middle of the night?” He wondered, looking down at her.

  “It’s just.. everything I have to do, it’s all a lot sometimes.  I can usually handle it, but not tonight apparently” She tried to wipe the tears and tiredness left on her face away, almost succeeding.

  He murmured something under his breath, “ I can relate to that, Marinette.  Do you want to talk about it?” he offered, knowing it usually helped to talk to Plagg when his responsibilities piled up, “Or may I just help you home?  I’d feel bad leaving you here to walk so far alone”

  “ That would be.. nice, Chaton.” She, as per usual started to ramble,  “As long as you don’t mind that is.  I wouldn’t want to be a bother with all that you do.  You and ladybug must be very busy saving Paris all the time, that is?”

  He chuckled softly, moving closer and offering his hand, “No one’s ever a bother, especially you”  She took his hand, and he was off.

  They landed back on her patio, where everything had started for the anxious girl, her mind racing and thoughts out of order.  

  “So, did you want to talk about it, princess?” Chat asked, as he’d offered earlier.

  “Yea, that’d be nice.  Would you mind if I grabbed something from my room really quick?  I wouldn’t want to bother you or anything?”

  Chat nodded, reiterating she wasn't a bother, “go ahead, I’ll stay”

  Marinette scuttered down into her room, pulling out her box of baked goods, and coming back up to the roof area.  She tore a croissant in half, offering the other side to Chat.  “It’s just, everything’s a lot and almost everyone in my life expects something from me, and usually I can bear it, but lately I’ve picked up a few more things and it’s all too much.  I don’t know how to tell people without offending them, because it sounds like they’re not worth my time anymore, and that would mean not being a good friend.  That’s one of the things I’m most known for, and if I’m not that, what am I?”  She started, offering the open box while she talked, “and- well.. And there’s this girl at school who’s been spreading lies and rumours about me, and people keep telling me to set a good example, or they don’t believe me.  But with her threats, which I know she can fulfill.  I don’t know what to do anymore?”  

  Chat murmured, brushing crumbs off the top of his suit, “ No one deserves to feel like that, Mari.  Have the teachers at your school done anything?”

  “ No, everyone believes her or expects it to solve itself really”

  “You should file an issue with the teachers at your school, they shouldn’t be taking her word over yours and not helping you with all this.” he checked the time on his baton, “ I have to go for the night, as it’s getting late.  But, I’ll hope to find you again on Friday?  Let me know if the issues persist, I’m sure they’d hate to ignore someone as lovely as me” He proclaimed, flexing and chuckling,  the green-eyed teen took her hand and pressed a kiss to it, leaping away and grumbling to himself as soon as he was far enough away.

  Marinette was left feeling a little better, brushing away her thoughts of one cute cat.  She’d file a complaint with her parents to the school board.  

  The next day at school found her a bit better, and Adrien seemed more aggressive towards Lila, which seemed weird compared to usual.  When she complained about Mari ‘bullying’ her, Adrien slid into the seat next to her, where Alya used to sit before she moved next to Lila.  They ended up chatting for part of the period, with little to no sputtering from the raven-haired girl.  Adrien helped her correct her notes, and she ended up looking forward for school days to come for the first time in a while.   Maybe things were gonna work out in the end, and if not, she could still count on Chat.  She knew for sure now.

[thenovelartist]

His Heart Song, part 2

I was part of the @lukanette-exchange, and so this is for my exchangee @cobraonthecob who wanted a no powers/slice of life story. And I was mostly inspired to write a second part to my first Lukanette story. :D :D (Note: it’s not required to read the first part of the story to understand this one.)

Part 1

It was only the weekend they got to spend together, but being with her for any length of time was a balm to his battered heart. Being so close to her, hearing her heart song live and in person, it made him ready to pick up a guitar again and face the stage and roaring crowds.

He was as rejuvenated as a guitar with fresh strings.

But all too soon, it was time for her to go back to Paris, leaving him behind to finish his tour as Jagged Stone’s opening act. They were standing in the airport, and he was very close to picking her up and taking her back to the car with him, refusing to let her leave.

“Call me more often,” he said instead, squeezing her tightly.

“I will,” she said, her words sounding much like a promise. “Text me after your shows. Tell me how it went. No matter the time difference. And I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“I will.”

A moment of silence passed between them, one that was full of tension. Her hands slid up to his shoulders, a blush now staining her cheeks. He couldn’t resist the urge to lean down and meet her, pressing a kiss to her lips.

Their first.

So, what if it was in an airport. It was drowned out by the music roaring in his ears. Music that she caused in him.

He did everything to commit that song to memory.

“Stay safe,” he whispered once the kiss had ended. They hadn’t moved far, though, which was likely to result in another kiss in the immediate future. “Sleep well. Study hard. But not too hard.”

“Same for you. Don’t overwork yourself, Luka,” she gently warned. “And I’ll be excited to hear the new songs you and Jagged are writing.”

“I was just happy to hear an old one,” he said, tapping her nose playfully.

Her smile was brighter than a spotlight, and he would much rather bask in this warm glow than the one on the stage.

After one last parting kiss, he forced himself to let her go and take a couple steps back. With a wave, she grabbed her rolling luggage and turned away to head towards her plane. He stayed, watching her fully disappear from his sight before returning to the awaiting car.

“I like that girl,” Jagged commented as they drove off. “She’s creative. Lively. You picked a good one, mate.”

“She’s amazing,” Luka quietly agreed. “Thank you for sending the tickets, Penny.”

Jagged sputtered while Penny sat smugly in the front. “How’d you know it was Penny?” he asked.

Luka smirked. “Penny organized everything. You just told her to get the tickets,” he said, reaching out to rest a hand on Jagged’s shoulder. “So, thanks.”

Appeased, Jagged reclined back in his seat looking rather proud of himself. If Luka were listening carefully, he probably could have heard the harmonies of two people reveling in a job well done. But for the moment, all he could hear was the lingering melody of his Marinette.

…

The last few months of touring finished up, meaning that it was time to head back to Paris. Luka could not have been happier to have gone home. He was surprisingly homesick after being gone for months on end, but if he was being honest, he didn’t know how much of it was homesickness, and how much of it was being away from his darling Marinette.

They’d gotten closer somehow despite the distance between them. Maybe it was because the barriers were gone and real, raw feelings and emotions were thrown around freely. There wasn’t a “friend” line he had to worry about crossing. Now, the girl who called and texted and facetimed him on a regular basis was the love of his life.  

Marinette was there waiting for him in Paris alongside his sister and mom. To get home after touring for so long, only to see his three favorite women in the entire world waiting for him was like hearing his favorite song come on the radio after a long day. They smothered him in hugs and refused to leave him alone the rest of the night.

He didn’t really have a problem with that other than he wanted to spend some alone time with Marinette.

So when she had to go home, he leapt at the opportunity to walk her back.

He clung to her hand, relishing the feel of her clinging back. To be able to touch her, to hold her, to hear her heart song live as she stood beside him, was completely refreshing. She was already stitching up his worn and haggard heart and he hadn’t been with her more than four hours yet.

“I missed you so much.”

Luka looked down at her, his heart overflowing. “I missed you, too. More than you know.”

“I’m glad for you,” she said. “But I’m also selfishly glad you’re back at my side.”

“You can be selfish,” he assured her. “I’m more than happy to indulge you.”

Her smile was bright and beaming. “I’m really happy to have my boyfriend back home.”

“You’re singing my favorite lyrics.”

She giggled before taking a half-step closer to him, snuggling up against his arm. “I love you.”

Alright, he lied. That was his favorite lyric. “I love you, too.”

…

Having just finished the tour meant there was a lot of downtime at home.

Downtime that was full of Marinette.

It didn’t have to be them being all couple-y or going on dates. The quiet time that he spent with her meant the world to him. After so many days of loud, roaring crowds and cranked up music, the quiet sounds of the skritching of a pencil on paper or her incoherent mumblings or the soft swishing of eraser against the paper were a balm to his ears. He relished the quiet. Of it finally being quiet enough for him to hear the music around him, again.

The soft strumming of a guitar, of the stings reverberating to the gentle touch of his fingertips, he had missed this. Of being with a person one on one and being able to hear their heart song.

He was able to play along with it. But he also learned, he was able to guide it.

He was able to put an amused smile on her face. He was able to get her to relax when she was stressed. He was able to get her rocking along with the music and worked up into a doodling frenzy.

Those quiet moments where they could play off each other, those were the moments hope swelled in his chest. Hope that forever could be just like this.

…

After the tour with Jagged Stone, Jagged’s label company approached Luka with an opportunity of a lifetime.

“They wanna sign you?!” Marinette shrieked as he told her the news.

“They wanna sign me!” He couldn’t help but be completely psyched. After all, it was the opportunity of a lifetime.

With a squeal, Marinette ran into his arms, holding him tight as he picked her up off the ground. “You’re gonna say yes, right? You better say yes.”

“You bet, I am.”

“That’s so amazing! I always knew you had what it took.”

His heart warmed at that. She had always believed in him, and honestly, having her support as well as the support of his family was one of the reasons he’d gotten so far. “Thank you, Marinette. It means the world to me.”

…

They’d only been dating six months by the time Luka knew that he was ready for the leap of faith. She was the only one for him. And he was nearly certain she returned that sentiment.

Meaning it was time for him to face her parents.

Luka honestly loved Marinette’s parents. They were fantastic people who clearly loved their daughter and only wanted the best for her. And he held them in the highest respect.

Hence why he was here now.

“I would like your permission to marry your daughter.”

…

Luka was still in shock that her parents gave their permission so easily. However, he felt the pressure to prove to them that they did not make a mistake in allowing him to ask for her hand. After all, they were young. Marinette was in her second year of university, not even twenty yet. But despite that, he felt like they were ready to be in a fully committed relationship.

However, before he could do anything more to move forward to a future, he actually had to ask for her hand.

When Marinette was busy with the chaos of her school, he thought it was the perfect time to find himself in a jewelry store without getting caught by her or her friends. Juleka knew, but Luka knew he couldn’t keep that a secret from her. He did, however, beg her not to tell any of Marinette’s other friends.

“It’s our secret,” she said with a smile. “But she’s a size five and a half and doesn’t want anything big that will snag on fabric.”

Luka chuckled. “Anything else I should be aware of?”

“No. Those are the important things.”

“Should I get your approval of the rock when I get back?”

“Probably better.”

“Then I’ll see you when I return.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks, sis.”

He had done some online shopping prior to going out, but he realized that he couldn’t actually get a real idea of what he was buying, meaning physical shops it was.

Glancing at the first shop, he didn’t see anything he liked or that he thought would remotely fit her. The second shop was nearly as hopeless, though there was one that was kind of nice.

He kept his fingers crossed that the third time was the charm.

“Hello. How can I help you today?”

He smiled at the woman behind the counter. “Looking for a ring.”

“Oh!” The woman lit up, just like the others had when he mentioned a ring. Apparently, jewelry people liked selling rings. Maybe they did that with everything, but there was a certain excited air they carried at the mention of a ring. “This way. Were you looking for something specific?”

“Not traditional,” he began. Because Marinette deserved better than some plain diamond. He wanted to give her something with color. Something that was vibrant and unique, just like her. “I’ll narrow it down from there.”

The woman nodded as she pointed out some of the options. “Maybe I could provide some more assistance, though. If I knew more about what you were looking for or more about the woman you’re planning to give it to.”

In response, he lifted up his long sleeve, showing off his tattoo: Marinette’s handiwork. “She’s an artist. Specifically, a fashion designer, but she drew this on me a few years back. She says everyone has a symbol or color or pattern that suits them and this—” He pointed at the flower in the crook of his arm “—is hers. She’s a unique girl, and I don’t want to get her something that looks like any other diamond on a silver band.”

The woman looked at his tattoo intently. “She certainly did a good job on that. It’s really cool.”

“She really did,” he said, rubbing the tattoo fondly. That had been nearly four years ago, yet, it felt like it had always been part of him.

The woman smiled before turning back to the ring selection. She then ignored it as she looked in a drawer behind the display before pulling out a couple rings.

“We don’t get many people wanting non-traditional rings,” she said, setting a couple rings on the counter. “But I’m thinking you’re looking for something like this.”

Luka’s eyes widened as he studied the two options.

“And then I have a few more that might interest you as well if these don’t,” she added.

Luka had to give her credit: she picked them very well. One of the rings had a ruby set in a rose gold that had a delicate loopy pattern on it. It perfectly matched the flower that was on his arm.

The second one, though, was what caught his attention. It was a ring that didn’t have an impressive stone on it whatsoever. Instead, it had two lines of tiny gems, one deep blue and one light blue, that twisted together in a silver setting.

“May I?” he asked, reaching towards the blue twist.

With a smile, the woman offered it to him to inspect. In that moment, looking it over and running his thumb over the band, he knew it was perfect for her. To bring out the blue of her eyes, to match her rosy skin tone, and there was nothing that would snag on fabric.

“This is it.”

The ring was a little more expensive than he’d wanted, but it wasn’t that much overbudget. He was more than willing to splurge for her. Particularly if it was to be a ring she’d wear the rest of her life. He wanted her to love it, just like he loved the tattoo he put on her.

When he got home, he got the Juleka Stamp of Approval, that was shortly followed by the Mom Stamp of Approval.

And when Marinette showed up, he was so thankful his mom distracted her long enough so he could hide the ring.

“What was that?” Marinette asked with a smile when he came to collect her from his mother.

He decided to play innocent. “What was what?”

“Your mom stalled me.”

“Stalled?”

“She was talking to me about random things.”

“You know Mom loves you.”

Marinette narrowed her eyes at him. He knew he couldn’t pull the wool over her eyes. He was okay with her thinking something was up just as long as she didn’t expect a proposal. “Okay,” she said, her tone skeptical. “If you say so.”

…

“Your launch album is dropping soon, right?”

He nodded. Currently, they were hanging out in her room at her parents’ house as he was assisting her by modeling a suit. Definitely not his style, but she somehow made it look perfectly suited for him anyway. “Yeah. It is.”

Marinette squealed. “That’s so exciting.”

It was. He didn’t want to be conceited or anything, but he was incredibly excited for his album to come out. People were already lining up for the pre-orders. He supposed that was thanks to him touring with Jagged Stone. He’d forever be thankful for the man who’d given him a chance.

Just like he’d forever be grateful to the woman whose heart song so heavily inspired him.

…

She was on the verge of tears, and he was the one to cause it.

If they were any other kind of tears other than the happy kind caused by him going down on one knee and asking her to marry him, he’d be bundling her up in his arms already. Instead, he just waited for an answer, his own heart leaping wildly in his chest as he waited for an answer.

“Yes.”

As he put the ring on her finger, he could hear her heart song, one swelling with overwhelming emotion. But his was, too. And the two together sounded like the most perfect symphony that he doubted he’d ever be able to recreate the sound.

Though he did try, he wasn’t sure he succeeded. It had been too perfect of a moment to fully recreate.

…

They were going to wait until the summer to get married. Meaning that he had to wait for the end of her second semester that had only just started. However, that did allow them plenty of time to plan the wedding as well as things that their future entailed.

Like where they’d live, for one.

“I want to hold off on having kids for a while,” Marinette had said. ��So we can aim small for our first apartment.”

“Who said anything about kids?”

Marinette’s expression fell, and he swore that he could hear a screeching violin in the background somewhere.

He laughed and leaned close to her. “I’m teasing.”

Her smile was slightly strained, but most of the tension in her shoulders disappeared. “I guess we never talked about kids, huh?”

“We didn’t, but I knew you wanted them. Juleka told me years ago.”

Marinette grumbled something that Luka couldn’t hear, but he suspected it was something no-so-nice about his sister.

“I want a couple kids with you,” he assured. “It sounds fantastic, honestly. You’ll make a great mom.”

The rest of her discomfort vanished at that. “You’ll make a good dad.”

“I’ll do my best,” he said. “But I have a feeling that with you as a mom, they’ll be some of the best kids ever.”

“And with you as a dad, yes, they will,” she corrected.

He could only smile.

“But, getting back to the apartment,” Marinette said. “Because I don’t want to have kids until I finish school and get a job and all that, I say we can start off small.”

“Actually, I kinda wanted to bring up the possibility of… not an apartment.”

Her brow knit together. “Like a house?”

“Like a boat.”

Her eyebrows shot up.

“What do you think?” he asked. “About living on the water?”

She paused, lips pursed in thought. “I guess I haven’t thought about it,” she said. “It never even crossed my mind despite… well.” She motioned to his room, the one in the boat he grew up in.

He chuckled. “You can think about it. It’s just a suggestion.”

“I… I don’t know,” she said. “It would be cool, I guess. But at the same point, I worry about my sewing space not being on completely solid ground. I just don’t know if it would affect it that much. And what about storms and all that? If that would really throw me off if the river got choppy.”

He hadn’t even thought about that. “I suppose that’s true.”

Marinette bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to kill your dream.”

“Don’t be,” he quickly assured. “This is what marriage is, right? Compromise? Learning to merge two different opinions in order to build a life together?”

“Yeah,” Marinette agreed.

“So this is one that sounds like I might have to give up on. It does get a little bumpy in the weather, and if that’s going to be a big no for you, then we’ll just have to get a house on land.”

“Are you certain?”

Luka nodded.

Marinette bit her lip. “I just hate you’re the one giving this up. It sounds like you wanted this.”

“I do… did,” he admitted. “But that’s because I grew up on the water. I’m used to it. I like traveling up and down the Seine on occasion.”

“Then it sounds like we should be close to the Seine, if we can. So you can still be close to the water. And we’ll just have to take boat rides whenever we can.”

Luka smiled. “That sounds like a compromise.”

…

His mom insisted they get married on the boat deck, and no one had any objections to it.

It was a simple affair. Nothing fancy. Neither wanted it that way. The ship was decorated with flowers and such, and he was wearing a vest instead of an overcoat—Marinette was very merciful to him in that way considering it was early summer and the heat had come. Jagged Stone himself insisted on playing at Luka’s wedding, which was extremely kind. How Luka had become so close to Jagged was still a shock, but he wasn’t complaining.

When Jagged Stone’s version of the wedding march played, Luka nearly stopped breathing at the sight of his bride.

His bride.

For a moment, time stood still and the music faded away. It was just him and her and the symphony in Luka’s head going wild with excitement.

He couldn’t help but be exorbitantly happy.

When she approached him, he held out his hand to grab hold of hers, and from that moment on, everything became a blur. All he could hear was the music in his head. Her heart song and his meshing together and becoming one melody.

The officiant went on, only breaking into Luka’s thoughts when he said vows were to be exchanged. Those lyrics they each sung were burned into his head, matching the melody their hearts played.

And then, the end of the song rolled around, the final lyric “you may kiss the bride” being sung.

A symphony played in the background, the roar of cheers a drumming beat. Yet another perfect song that Luka would do everything to cling to, to recreate later to play for his wife so she could hear this melody, too. The one of him and her uniting in perfect harmony.

[maybeformepersonally]

Fic: from up here you can't beat the view (just watch me now)

Authors: kishere (@filisaceaf) & maybeformepersonally

Beta: @always-okay-katie

Artist: @kthnwss

Word Count: 22.6k

Rating: E / Explicit

Warnings: some slight internalised biphobia (it’s not a main plot point in the story) and brief mentions of Dan being bullied before the story starts. 

Summary: It's 2009 and Dan finds Phil on the internet when a well-meaning mate of his recommends him to a certain site she likes. Dan quickly becomes a fan: watching Phil's videos religiously and interacting with him on his socials. And, soon enough, Phil starts noticing him. 

A familiar enough story on the surface but here's the catch: Phil has never been involved with YouTube. Phil is a camboy.

Author Notes: We'd like to thank @phandombigbang for organizing this event and finally giving us the opportunity/excuse to write together that we had been searching for. We've been talking about this universe for a while and the Big Bang seemed like a great way to start the series with a bang so to speak. That does mean there are going to be other parts coming out in this series!

They always said it takes a village to raise a child and this is ours. I would love to thank our wonderful beta @always-okay-katie and our exceptional artist @kthnwss they dealt with our (reallyreallyreallyREALLY) erratic writing process and they are a blessing. We also have to thank the Phanfic Writing Discord (in particular @counting2fifteen and @sudden-sky) for alleviating some fears and looking over the fic along with the encouragement and support you have given.

Link to art: here!

(We don’t have enough words for how blessed we were to get these absolutely stunning art pieces to illustrate our story. The art is so ridiculously good guys, go show Kate some love and appreciation.)

[Read on ao3]

Chapter 1: sometimes you gotta try something new and that something new is a cam site

Dan could do this, he thought as he slowly hit the letters on his keyboard. 

Nicole had recommended the site when he’d been rolling on the floor of his room, going back and forth about finding men attractive. Again. He was bisexual, but he wasn’t sure just how bisexual he was. The occasional sneaked look in a locker room and some sweaty kisses at a party in the woods didn’t seem like enough to base wanting to have sex with guys on. 

“Have you ever even watched porn, Dan,” she had asked before laughing at him as he choked on the swig of Jack he had swiped from downstairs. Dad had been drinking more lately and wouldn’t notice the bottle had dipped low if he watered it down. He flipped her off and coughed a few more times to clear his throat. 

“You’re vile, Nikki,” he said, ignoring her as she gave him the finger in return. 

“Well? Have you,” she challenged, pulling her hair back into a ponytail, going from ‘funny Nikki’ to ‘serious, going-to-give-you-advice Nikki’.

“I mean... a little, but it didn’t really. You know,” Dan said, flustered as he didn’t make eye contact. “It didn’t feel… real.”

“It’s porn; there aren’t that many plumbing problems in the world. Have you tried live cams?”

“Live cams,” Dan echoed back hesitantly, feeling his nose wrinkle in confusion. He didn’t want Nikki to know he didn’t know what those were, but from the knowing looking on the girl’s face, he was failing. 

“Yeah. People like, film themselves getting off live and you can pay them for more private shit if you want,” Nicole explained. “I have a site I like sometimes. The girls on it are pretty hot.”

“Jesus Christ,” Dan muttered, glad about the shitty Skype connection between here and America. “I’m not having an issue with hot girls though.”

Nikki rolled her eyes at him and stared at him. “You… could look for guys on there… Daniel.”

“Brill idea Nicole,” Dan sassed back. “Let the underaged boy try to find… something… on the porn site.”

“Adult cam site,” Nicole corrected immediately. “And you don’t have to pay. There are plenty of people who use it just because they are exhibitionists.” 

“I… maybe. Send me a link,” Dan said after thinking it over for a minute.

So here he was, three days later in a finally blessedly empty house. He was sitting in a shirt and some boxers as he slowly typed out the link into a Firefox window. Dan could have just clicked on the link, but that felt too definite. Typing it out himself gave him some sort of… plausible deniability. ‘Haha, what a mistype,’ he joked with himself as the page loaded and wow. 

That was a lot of naked skin. 

Like a lot of skin. 

Mostly tits, but he spied a few chests that looked like they could potentially belong to dudes. He clicked on the first one he saw and made a face. It was a little too hairy for his taste. Not that he was averse to a hairy chest. Maybe. He didn’t know what he wanted, really, but he knew it wasn’t older with an extremely hairy gray chest that had the kind of moans that he thought made porn so inauthentic. 

Dan huffed in disappointment and looked in the top left corner, finding a drop down menu. He clicked on it and blinked at the… staggering amount of choices on the site. BBW, Anal, Trans, and… Gay. There it was, that stupid label, in gaudy, yellow letters, waiting for Dan to click on it as his cursor hovered over it. He clicked on it and felt his body relax as he saw so many more options available to him, and scrolled. And scrolled. Clicked on a few streams and exited out but none of them felt right until him.

xoxoAmazingPhiloxox 

First of all, he was hot. Inky black hair and insane blue eyes that Dan kept looking into when he wasn’t looking at Phil’s hand squeezing himself through (of all things) Donkey Kong boxer-briefs. Dan realized after five minutes that his eyes weren't just blue; it was a kaleidoscope of blue, green, and yellow. Second of all, the username had a little star next to the name, which Dan assumed meant they were good at what they did. Dan certainly thought Phil was good at what he was doing. Phil was talking as opposed to sitting there and just moaning, which… kind of helped actually, even if he was answering questions from another viewer about why he chose those hideous pants. He didn’t even have his dick out yet, just squeezing the outline of his dick through his boxers and Dan was hooked like the other 1500 people watching the stream.

“Well bigduck71, thank you for the tip, sometimes, I just get hard playing video games. It’s not that I’m attracted to the characters,” Phil was explaining, breaking off to moan into his elbow, “it’s just that I imagine that someday I’m going to have a boyfriend. I’m going to have a boyfriend to cuddle up next to me while playing video games and then if we want, we can. You know.”

Phil looked shy for a brief moment, but he stopped talking to pull out his dick after a very generous (at least $10 seemed generous to Dan, it was his first time after all) tip and Dan felt himself go from half-hard to fully hard. Fuck. His dick looked so good. Dan wanted to kiss it because it was pretty, the way its head was red and looked shiny, and it looked girthy from how wide Phil’s fingers were stretched around it. No guy should have that pretty of a dick and face and body all together; it was going to give the rest of mankind a complex, Dan thought as he reached down and squeezed his own erection, letting out a whimper as Phil continued to speak.  

“If we want, I could push him down and kiss him. I don’t think I would rut against him immediately; I think we could just make out, me laying on top of him, and the sounds of the Sonic title screen playing in the background,” Phil broke off here to hum the opening from Sonic Mania. “And I would kiss him until his lips were swollen. Slide my hands slowly underneath his shirt and touch how warm his stomach and sides are. Wait until he’s grinding up into me and grind back against him. I hope he grabs my ass, to pull me against him. Like it’s a decent ass, right? It deserves a little grab?”

Phil turned around and showed off his ass. He gripped it, his nails digging into the pale flesh that was dotted with the occasional mole, pulling apart a miniscule amount. Not enough to expose his hole, but enough to tease and show what he wanted his imaginary boyfriend to do to him.

Dan estimated he had bigger hands than Phil. He could probably grip his ass well, he thought as his hand sped up against his dick. Dan came embarrassingly quick when Phil turned back around and he was staring into those multicoloured eyes. He was mortified at how fast he came and no one was even in the room with him to justify him feeling this level of mortification. Reasons why Dan’s a fail, Dan thought as he felt the come cooling on his hand. Coming to an emo talking on a shady cam site and Dan hadn’t even typed anything into the chat yet to let Phil know he was watching him.

He waited until his heart rate slowed down a bit before typing in a simple ‘thank you’ with a little heart emoji attached to it before closing out of the screen to go clean off his hand.

*

“So how did it go?” Nikki asked him a few days later on Skype. Dan shrugged which made her roll her eyes. “You didn’t even do it, did you? Wimp.”

Dan sighed and looked up to meet her brown, judging, judgy little eyes and nodded. “I did do it. It was...”

Dan trailed off, unsure of how much he wanted to divulge to her. Because he did jerk off and while Nikki was pretty chill, he didn’t want to gross her out either. Did he want to say how enlightening it was to see a guy who had such beautiful eyes he wanted to go swimming in them? Did he want to talk about how he hadn’t stopped thinking about the show the past three days and was going to try and find him again because his face kept popping up in Dan’s mind all the time? Did he want to talk about how reaffirming of his sexuality it was to know how insanely attracted he was to men and that it definitely wasn’t a phase?

“It was fine,” was what Dan went with. 

“Ahhhhh,” Nikki said, her face transforming into something teasing. Apparently his poker face had been slipping since he no longer had to use it on a daily basis to survive. “Dan’s got a crush.”

“I don’t have a crush,” Dan huffed, voice going embarrassingly high for a moment. He took care to speak at a normal pitch after that. “Just… I have a mild curiosity.”

“Sure, buddy. Sure,” Nikki said, her tone drawing the words out before diving into a tangent about how insanely hard one of the missions in Black Ops was, and how it had been kicking her ass.

*

The “mild curiosity” kind of becomes a thing: Dan will get horny and instead of just using his ‘wild imagination’ (thanks every teacher he had in primary school), he’d go on the live cam site if he needed something to visualize. He didn’t always go straight to Phil’s page to see if he was online; he does try and look at other camboys, but none of them keep his attention like Phil. Dan was pretty sure it was because he treated the audience like a regular audience, but he just happened to touch himself while talking and playing music. 

Dan was a bit obsessed with Phil’s accent; it was very Northern and different than the chav accent he heard at school from the wannabe gangsters. Like today for example, Phil was just talking about something random going on in his life and Dan wasn’t even watching him to see if he was touching himself. He was working through his maths homework and had his headphones in to just listen to Phil talk as he tried to remember what his completely unintelligible maths teacher had said during class. He gave up after a while and turned his attention to Phil’s show, cushioning his head on crossed arms as he laid on his stomach. 

“So today I filmed something for my class,” Phil was explaining on the webcam. “It’s kind of different but a couple of my mates really liked it.”

Phil broke off to laugh at something in the chat.

“No, no, tiittyfucker96 nothing like this. I don’t think I could look them in the eye if I showed them a recording of me doing this,” Phil said, idly twisting a nipple and letting out a laugh that trailed into a moan as he (assumingly) pinched his nipple harder. Dan never thought someone could be so care-free during sexual situations. He was constantly worried that someone would hear that he had been with a girl and say that his bisexuality was a phase or that he was faking being straight which made him nervous to be intimate with anyone, even his ex-girlfriend. So watching the way Phil’s eyes would flutter in enjoyment as he gripped himself, watching the way Phil would give choked off laughs as he read filthy comments? It… it made Dan want to gain that kind of confidence. 

Before he had fully thought through his actions, he was typing into the chat-box, lucky that the basic, no-payment level of being a site member still allowed for chat interaction with the cam-workers. 

‘how r u able to be so confident on camera?’ 

Dan waited after hitting send and felt himself start to grow antsy after a mere second. He had sent messages before, casual things like ‘is that muse in the background’ or simple thank yous after he’d come. He didn’t think he was going to get anything out of Phil, but then he heard his now familiar laugh, and when he looked up he saw Phil’s tongue sticking out the side of his mouth, something Dan shouldn’t be fixated on but he was rapidly learning that his fascination with anything and everything Phil didn’t make any sort of rational sense and his dick simply didn’t care. 

“Well Dennis, no Danis. Danis-snot-on-fire.”

Dan wanted to die. He had been noticed and for all the wrong reasons. Why did he use the worst username known to man? Now everyone probably thought he had a snot fetish or some shit. 

“Very creative username,” Phil chuckled, looking right at the camera and giving the world’s most awkward wink Dan had been on the receiving end of. Mainly because he was trying so hard to wink, tilting his head to the side and trying but only managing to blink. Dan muffled his laughter into his elbow because if he was laughing, his mum would know he wasn’t completely focused on his homework and come in to check on him, and he really didn’t want to explain why he was doing his maths homework shirtless.

“Watch out guys, it’s about to not be a sexy time for a moment. But to answer your question, Danis,” Phil said as Dan resisted the urge to throw himself out the window every time Phil called him the wrong name, “I get my confidence from all of you guys. It’s actually part of why I first started camming in the first place. When I first started, I was pretty awkward. Like I did bad angles and there were times I got so nervous that I’d uh. You know. Go soft. But everytime someone said something encouraging, it really helped boost my confidence to what’s in front of you now. I kind of just learned that the worst thing that will happen is you’ll have to try again. So yeah!”

Phil ended the talk with jazz hands.

Dan hated how he tracked the way Phil’s hands moved, imagining how warm they would feel in person. His maths homework sat uncompleted as he had himself a wank to the freckles he wanted to bite on Phil’s shoulders.

*

It only got worse with time. This… infatuation. He’d still search the site for new camboys sometimes, but he got bored easily, grew frustrated when he didn’t find what he liked. He knew what he liked, was the thing. He knew who he wanted. The problem was: he only had access to the open camshows Phil made, at the moment. 

There was a whole library of old camshows archived on the site, but it was locked for paying clients, and paying clients needed to have a credit or debit card and to be verifiably 18 or older, which Dan wouldn’t be for another month. And even then, he’d still need to get some kind of card. Which was way too much trouble just to get more porn, right? There was plenty of free porn on the internet. He didn’t need a paid membership. He didn’t.

But he wanted one, he really, really did. There were years worth of Phil camshows in there, plus some kink-themed clips, and special features like the superchat, and Dan craved. 

He tried to hold off his burgeoning interest, but soon enough he’d fallen into a rabbit hole of online sites where Phil interacted with his subscribers and answered questions and uploaded photos with funny commentary; fallen never to be seen again. He couldn’t stop scrolling, couldn’t stop reading his twitter, his #asks tag on tumblr, his dailybooth (especially his nakedbooths, which he posted whenever he hit a milestone), his answers on formspring (almost all of them were sexual, and fuck, Phil had a way with words).

He had now reached the point where his mind drifted automatically to Phil whenever he wanked, or even when he got turned on, like the two things went together, a Pavlovian response. He’d accrued quite the collection of Phil-specific fantasies, and all his old fantasies had now cast Phil in the starring role. And he’d become addicted to checking Phil’s socials more than was maybe reasonable.

Like now.

Dan refreshed tumblr at just the right time to see that Phil had answered a few asks. 

anonymous asked: how big is ur duck

amazingphil: [picture of a rubber duck next to a 50 cm ruler]

Dan couldn’t hold back a snicker at the response. He’d discovered that Phil was hilarious very soon after discovering that he was gorgeous, and though he mourned the loss of opportunity to get a Phil dick pic, he had to hand it to him. It was funny.

Dan clicked on the ‘amazingphil’ url to check if there were any more answers yet. Phil normally did a few at a time.

And today was no exception. 

anonymous asked: is it true that you did linguistics at uni?

amazingphil: it is! I’m an english language and linguistics graduate. sounds professional, huh? i got good grades and everything. i could totally tutor you if you’re having trouble with your homework, i’ll even bring out the glasses if you’re into it… (i’m into it)

anonymous asked: whats your favorite sex toy

amazingphil: oh, this is a hard one. mmm... probably my blue vibrator? tho the purple dildo that comes inside you gets a special mention too, maybe it’s that it’s new and i’m still super excited about it lol but if you saw that one camshow where i used it you saw how much fun i had with it ;) and i’ve used it a few more times already so...

Dan had seen that camshow. That thing was huge. And Phil had taken it like it was nothing, moaning and pushing back on it like he couldn’t get enough of it. Dan had come twice during the half-hour-long liveshow. Dan refreshed the page, and a new ask appeared.

anonymous asked: hav you tried bondage? i’d luv to tie u up ;)

amazingphil: i haven’t actually! but i might be up for it with someone i trust. but i’ve thought about it! it’s a hot fantasy. i’d like my partner to tie just my wrists the first time, to ease me into it, but a second time i think it could be fun to be spread eagled, wrists and ankles, back to the bed. i’d like to be on one of those four poster beds so that you could have my legs up in the air. i think i’d like to be fingered slowly when i can’t move away, teased a little and then fucked into the mattress while spread open like that with no friction on my cock so i can’t come until you’re done with me and then you get to decide how to make me come, i bet that’d drive me wild. i can get a bit needy in that kind of situation haha but that’s half the fun of it, yeah? that’s y’know, sth i think about sometimes :)

“Ngh.” Dan was suddenly very hard, his mind having taken a wild swerve into the gutter as soon as he’d clicked on Phil’s blog if he was being honest, but that took it to a whole new level. He wasn’t sure how true these were, but the idea that these were actually Phil’s fantasies, that this was what he thought about when he got off by himself, it always made it so much hotter for Dan, so much more effective. He wasn’t sure if it was just that Phil talked about his actual fantasies differently and he was picking up on it on some wavelength, or if he just got off to the idea of knowing something so intimate about someone he was attracted to.

He wanted more, so he refreshed the page again, barely resisting the urge to touch himself as he squirmed just a little on his seat.

The page refreshed, and there was a new answer.

anonymous asked: ur so hot i love ur cock i want to sit on it and ride u until u scream

amazingphil: mm… this cock? [gif of phil’s groin from the chest to his thighs, completely naked, he’s pumping his cock slowly, once, twice, the third time, as his fingers reach the head, a few drops of precome slide down his fingers, then the gif loops] yeah that sounds nice. but i think i could make you scream first... race you? ;)

“Fuck,” Dan breathed out, his own cock twitching sympatheticaly inside his pyjama bottoms. He reached down to squeeze it and couldn’t help but buck up into it, breathing ragged and mind already lost in the fantasy. How would it feel to sit on Phil’s lap, to tease him by rubbing against him, to have Phil finger him open and then kiss him while he slid down onto that pretty cock, feel it stretch him until he bottomed out and then stay still, perfectly, maddeningly still, until Phil couldn’t take it anymore and said “please, Dan,” and then to move up, feeling that cock dragging against all those hidden places, making fireworks go off behind his eyes, until he was almost all the way out, and then-

Dan had pulled out his own rock hard dick and was pumping it furiously, basically fucking his fist by this point, imagining himself bouncing on Phil’s cock, picturing how Phil would grab his ass, how he’d grip him by the thighs as he pushed him down into his cock, how he wouldn’t be able to resist fucking up into him, hips rising without even thinking about it. 

In the stark reality of Dan’s bedroom, he brought his hand up to pinch his own nipple and moaned; in his fantasy, it was Phil’s long, elegant fingers doing it, Phil’s fist around his cock as he fucked him, Phil leaving bite marks on his collarbones, telling him how fit he was, how good he felt, how much Phil wanted him, and just like that Dan was spilling into his hand and his shirt, pressing his mouth into the fleshy inner side of his bicep to muffle the whiny, breathy moans he couldn’t quite keep in, and the pleasure came in waves down his body, had him writhing in his computer chair for several long moments that felt like a short eternity, and left him a boneless lump, breathing too hard and staring unseeingly into the computer screen.

“Huh,” he muttered to himself once he’d come down from it. That was... really good, actually. 

The gif was still playing on the screen. Dan right-clicked over it and saved it on his computer. For reasons.

*

Next came the not-so-natural progression of his little hobby into a whole new level. It began as a fantasy.

He’d been spending so much time in that damned camming website that it was hardly shocking that the thought would form in his mind. What would it feel like to be in front of the camera? What must it feel like to feel so confident about your own body and sexuality that you can put yourself on display like that with the expectation that people will come, that people will watch, that some will even pay for the privilege of telling you how good you look or to ask you to touch yourself in a specific way? How did someone like Phil feel, knowing he can turn on his webcam and have thousands of viewers’ undivided attention based purely on how hot he looks as he gets himself off, thousands of eyes following his every movement, his every word, feeling their blood rush and their flesh crave at the stroke of his fingertips? 

The first stray thought was followed by another, then another, and it all built momentum until he found himself caught up in the fantasy of having all those anonymous eyes on him, wanting him, wishing they could be touching him, thinking he was so desirable that they wanted to pay him in exchange for scraps of attention. 

So Dan laid down on his bed, over the covers, naked (so that the anonymous men from his fantasy could take him in, could watch him, all of him, on display like-like art, or a celebrity, or something worth attention. Someone deserving of this kind of attention). Instead of following all the shortcuts he knew would get him to the finish line faster, he thought about what Phil (and the few other camboys he’d tried watching) did to tease and titillate their viewers. What would they like to see, if there really were people watching him?

He ran the fingers of one hand lightly down his neck, shivering slightly at the sensation, then down his collarbones and further down his chest until they reached one nipple. His other hand was resting to his side, gripping the duvet in an attempt to anchor him and help him pace himself. He tweaked his nipple, squeezed it between two fingers, and his hips swivelled a little in place at the bolt of pleasure. Dan’s eyes never strayed from his own body, trying to see what others would see if they were looking at him right then. His cock was hard already, resting flush against his lower belly and throbbing a little. 

He trailed the fingers down, teeth catching on his pink plump lower lip as his hand reached the crease where his hip met his thigh and he bypassed the hard flesh aching for attention between his legs in favour of running his nails down his inner thighs, leaving reddish lines on the pale soft skin and moaning softly at the sensation. Would his viewers like the noise? Would they like him? Would these hypothetical men (and while he knew the people who watched the camshows weren’t all men, it was important to some recondite and unexamined corner of Dan’s mind that they would be primarily men) be intrigued enough to want to stay and continue watching him?

Dan imagined it, countless men watching him in lust, unable to resist sneaking a hand down pants that felt too tight and rubbing one out, never taking their eyes off Dan’s form as they fantasised about all the filthy things they’d like to do to him.

He dragged his fingers down to grab a handful of his own ass, squeezing one cheek and  spreading it slightly to reveal the puckered flesh between the cheeks, spurred on by the mental image of faceless men rutting into their own hands at the sight. He ran his fingers teasingly around the rim, sparks of pleasure shooting up from the place where his fingers made contact and moving all the way into his core. He tamped down on the urge to thrust his hips into the air in a natural bid to find friction.

He considered his options briefly, fingers tapping a delicious rhythm and making his legs spread a bit wider by reflex, and reached out with his other hand to fish out the lube from his drawer. He didn’t do this every time - it meant more work and cleanup - but right then he knew it was just what he needed. 

He coated three fingers as quickly as he could and returned his hand to its previous position between his legs, bending his legs and planting his feet firmly on the mattress for leverage.

He teased around his rim for a bit longer, his other hand wandering aimlessly up his body as he pretended that he was waiting for a hefty enough tip before indulging his audience. Someone would crack, he thought; someone would want it so bad that they wouldn’t even care about the money, they’d just send it over, and Dan would smile at the camera in satisfaction before dipping one of his slick fingers slowly inside.

He’d talk to them, probably, during the whole thing. He’d tell them how badly he wanted it, how hard he was, how much he needed it. It was quite unlike anything else, that particular feeling; and when he craved it, nothing else would do. He’d ask them playfully if they wanted to see how well he took his own fingers, he’d beg them so nicely to please hurry up, he needed more, one finger wasn’t enough and he was ready, he was so ready for more, but he couldn’t until he got another tip, right? So please? Pretty please?

And then another tip would come, maybe more than one, and he’d thank them, looking straight at the camera again, and he’d reward them by sliding another finger with the first, twisting them slowly (and here he’d be unable to keep his hips on the bed, he could feel himself losing that battle as they bucked up into the air by their own accord), and fuck he couldn’t keep the noise down, not when he was like this, but that was fine, wasn’t it? His viewers would like that, they’d probably compliment the whiny moans he couldn’t keep down whenever he brushed his prostate, they’d love them, if anything they’d ask him to make more noise.

Another? he’d ask, he’d request, and the tips would flood, as would the praising comments. He was close, and he hadn’t even touched his prick at all. He pulled out the two fingers he’d been using to furiously finger himself and dropped some more lube on them, before reaching back down and slowly, too slowly, sinking three fingers inside. It burned a little, but the pleasure was far more intense; it made his eyes close and his jaw slacken and he had to grip the duvet again to resist touching his throbbing cock. 

It didn’t take long before he was thrusting his fingers in and out, effectively fucking himself on them and letting out high, desperate-sounding short little whines. He imagined countless people (men) watching him, devouring the picture he made with greedy eyes and tight fists, getting off to the fantasy of him, fantisising about what it might feel like to fuck him, what he might look like with their cock up his arse rather than his own fingers, thinking probably that they could wring out even sweeter sounds out of him with a proper cock, like some of Phil’s viewers said to him all the time.

He was feverish with the thought, the sensations, he wasn’t sure he’d ever been this hard (he’d certainly never sounded this desperate, this needy before), and the stray thought of Phil’s viewers made him think of Phil and what if he was watching too? Pretty much everything Dan knew of camming he’d learnt from him. Would he think Dan was good at it? Would he be proud? 

Would he want me too?

The thought settled like an itch under his skin, setting him on fire. He unclenched the hand gripping wrinkled cloth to grip himself, felt his cock twitch as soon as it was (finally, finally) given some attention, and he tried to go slowly at first but he couldn’t, he couldn’t, the pleasure had been building for so long, so he just thrust into his fist and fucked himself on his fingers and imagined being watched and wanted and desired for all of it until the pleasure undid him. Wave after debilitating wave, all he could do was lie there and let it wreck him, and whine through it. 

He was left in a messy, sweaty, shaky tangle, quite sure that he’d just had the single most intense orgasm of his life and wondering if he’d even be able to walk to the bathroom for cleanup before his parents came home from work. 

(He was, eventually, but it was a close thing.)

*

Okay, so he’d discovered he had an exhibitionist kink. No big deal. It didn’t mean he had to do anything about it. 

Sure, he liked the idea of being watched by people who found him attractive, but that didn’t mean he’d necessarily enjoy the reality of it… Not to mention, exposing himself in the way that he’d been imagining - by doing a camshow where strangers could watch him - worked great as a fantasy, but who knew what kind of people he might attract... What if he got awful comments instead of praising ones? What if no one turned up? What if they didn’t even like him? 

The thought caused a ball of anxiety to settle somewhere around his lower chest, much as he tried to dismiss it. This kind of thing self-regulated, right? If someone checked him out and didn’t like him, they’d just leave to find someone more to their taste… 

Well, that thought didn’t help at all. With a grimace, he pictured a stream of people opening his camshow only to leave moments later, when they saw what he looked like, or heard how awkward he was. That’d be even worse than no one showing up.

And why was he still thinking about this, anyway? It wasn’t like he was actually going to go ahead and do it. It was just a crazy idea. 

He didn’t really want to do it. And he couldn’t, anyway. It’d be a disaster. 

And who knew how dangerous it might be. Better to file the thought away for wanking purposes and move on to more realistic endeavours in the real world.

...Right?

*

Apparently not.

He could not stop thinking about it. 

Every time he got off, even when he was watching Phil’s shows (and Phil’s shows were as captivating as they came), his mind drifted to this shiny new fantasy of his. He imagined himself in Phil’s place, imagined that the comments and tips were for him, (imagined that Phil was watching him, one of his regulars, that Phil was thinking about him when he grabbed and tugged and teased his own skin, when he lost himself in the pleasure, when he moaned and shuddered so prettily, when he talked about his future boyfriend).

And it wasn’t just that he was fixated on the sexual fantasy (though, that was how it got started). No, he’d started actually thinking about it. What it might entail. How it might go, as a job. How often he’d have to do it to live off it. 

He didn’t actually know if it would be viable as a way to make money, as a lot depended on whether people tuned in to watch him, and he couldn’t predict that. But surely it had to be a more attractive prospect than his shitty job at Asda, which he was barely holding on to as it was.

Going by the terms and conditions posted on the camming site (which he’d obsessively read several times over, heart in his throat and cheeks burning and feeling foolish and young and inexperienced), he’d get a fixed rate for number of subscribers, but the amount was negligible unless you were one of the heavy hitters. The real money would come from tips and private shows, and Dan was not sure he was ready to try doing private shows yet.

He wasn’t sure that he was ready to do any of it, if he was honest, but the more he thought about it, the more he was certain that he wanted to try. He wanted this.

It was a bit mad, yeah. Not the sort of thing you could bring up at Sunday tea time with grandma, that’s for sure. Not the sort of thing you could list on your resumé as a professional lawyer, either. And that wasn’t even going into the matter of romantic relationships, and how potential partners might feel about it. 

It was atypical, socially transgressive, scorned and undervalued by mainstream society; in a word, it was decidedly queer, in every sense of the word, but damn it if that wasn’t Dan all over. 

That’s how he felt, anyway. 

Maybe he should embrace it.

[Read the rest here!]

[noona-clock]

Have You Heard? - Part 8, Final Chapter

Genre: Office!AU

Pairing: Shownu x You

By Admin B

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 

Well, this was it.

The final test.

After a somewhat questionable confession from you, an unexpected confession from Shownu, a picture-perfect first date, and the most superbly divine good-night kiss...

It was time to see Shownu at work.

He had assured you that nothing would change in the office between the two of you, but you were still nervous. What if you just couldn’t help yourself, and you smiled too adoringly at him in the break room? What if he accidentally called you a pet name instead of your real name? What if one of your co-workers noticed you were now having lunch together every single day?

Or... the most likely option... what if you got distracted by his lips because you were thinking too much about his wonderful, amazing, lovely kisses?

You let out a very soft sigh as you began to log into your computer, but you cut yourself short when you heard someone approaching...

As sneakily as you could, you glanced over your shoulder to see who it was.

And you almost burst out laughing when you saw Shownu.

Because he was wearing his sweater vest.

You hadn’t yet looked at your message notifications but you knew they would be plentiful this morning. All from the #SSV message group.

And, sure enough...

Simone: Oh, it’s back.

Tracy: HAPPY TUESDAY!!!!!

Riley: The drought is over!!

Riley: /giphy thirsty

Charlie: So whoever gets him for Secret Santa is gifting him with another vest, right????

You had to press your lips together to keep from laughing, and you were so glad none of those four co-workers were around you because you could not keep a straight face as you typed out a response.

You: Why am I still a part of this group? It’s so unprofessional!

Tracy: Because you know you like to look at him!!!!!

Simone: Don’t lie to yourself 😉

Before you could respond, another message notification popped up on your screen.

Shownu: I need some caffeine.

You glanced over at the shared wall dividing your cube and Shownu’s cube, your eyes narrowing slightly. That was a very random thing to tell you first thing in the morning.

You: Then... go get some.

Shownu: I think you need some, too.

You: Ah... yes. Yes, you are right. I do.

You heard Shownu lock his computer and push away from his desk. He cleared his throat softly as he passed by your desk, and you waited a good five seconds before following him.

When you passed by Tracy’s desk, she had already rolled out, her eyes fixed on Shownu as he opened the door to the break room.

“Ooh, hey,” she whispered when she noticed you. “Feeling better?”

“Much,” you answered with a hidden smirk.

“You should compliment him on his sweater vest while you’re in there,” she suggested slyly.

“Yeah, right,” you chuckled as you stepped past her cube. “Good morning to you, too, Tracy.”

“I’m just saying! Last I heard, he was still single!”

You were still smiling and shaking your head when you approached the coffee maker in the break room, and Shownu turned his head to glance at you over his shoulder.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, a confused half-smile tugging at his lips.

“You wore that on purpose, didn’t you?” you asked quietly with a nod to his vest.

He looked down at his chest briefly and then shifted his gaze back to you. You could see it in his eyes; there was a mischevious glint in them.

“Yeah,” he admitted.

“That’s what’s so funny.”

You heard Shownu let out a soft chuckle as you opened a cabinet to retrieve a mug. 

He was already pouring his coffee, so he kept his eye focused on his mug when he asked, “How are you this morning?”

“I’m doing just fine,” you answered, slipping your fingers through a mug handle and bringing it down next to his. “Would you mind?”

He hummed, moving the coffee pot to fill up your mug after he’d finished with his.

“Thank you,” you murmured. “How are you?”

“I’m already hungry for lunch,” he told you with a grin. “Do you have plans?”

Your eyes flitted around the room to make sure no one was in there, and then you answered with, “I think I’m meeting my -- uh, the -- the guy I’m -- dating? Seeing?”

Shownu set the coffee pot down and raised his eyebrows, looking up to meet your gaze. “You have a boyfriend?” he asked innocently.

You stared back at him, unsure what to say.

“...I don’t know,” you replied quietly. “Do I?”

Did you?!

Confusion and maybe slight panic (?) shot through Shownu’s expression. “Do... you... want one?” he mumbled.

Oh, god. Was this a trick question?

Wait, why would you think that? This is Shownu we’re talking about! He doesn’t do trick questions!

You gulped nervously, your gaze switching back and forth between your maybe-boyfriend and your fresh cup of coffee. “...Kind of,” you answered. “But, I mean, I’ve only been on one date with him, so I would totally understand if he didn’t want to label it or anything --”

“Huh,” Shownu interrupted gently. “Learn something new every day, I guess.”

Your brow furrowed as you studied him. “What do you mean?”

“I just didn’t know you had a boyfriend. But now I do.” And then that sweet smile of his pulled at his lips, his eyes crinkling. “Congratulations.”

Oh, dear lord, if you weren’t leaning against the counter right now, you would probably collapse. Because had you ever seen a face more knee-weakening than his?!

No.

You had not.

“Thanks,” you breathed, trying desperately to tame the butterflies fluttering around your heart and stomach. “Also, I don’t think we can do this again.”

“Why not?” he asked as he lifted his mug to take a sip of his coffee.

“Because it’s a lot more difficult than I thought to pretend like you didn’t kiss me last night,” you whispered.

A tinge of pink flushed Shownu’s cheeks, and you felt a little better knowing it wasn’t just you. It was obviously difficult for him, too.

“I won’t get you to come to the break room at the same time as me anymore,” he said softly.

You nodded, cradling your steaming mug in your hands. It was definitely for the best... but you wouldn’t deny that you kind of enjoyed the thrill.

“I’ll see you at lunch?” you murmured.

The door opened then, and you almost spilled your coffee when you jumped in surprise.

Shownu simply nodded, and you secretly rolled your eyes at how jumpy you’d been - and you hadn’t even had one sip of your coffee!

Okay, once you got that out of the way - the whole ‘seeing him for the first time after your date’ - you actually felt a lot better.

I mean, yeah, you were still hyper-aware of all of the movements he made at his desk next to you. Every time you heard him typing, you wondered if maybe he was typing out a message to you. (Sometimes he was, but most of the time, he was not. Which... was normal. You were just weird.) Every time he was silent, you wondered if he was picking up his phone to send you a text. (But, like, why would he message you on the computer and text you on your phone? You really needed to calm down.)

When 12:15 rolled around, Shownu knocked softly on your cube wall as he always did when you ate lunch together. You rolled away from your desk and shot him a smile before following him over to the elevator.

Instead of turning left into the hallway, though, Shownu turned right.

“Wha -- where are you going?” you asked (though you still followed him).

“We’re taking the stairs,” he announced.

“Oh,” you remarked with just a bit of hesitation. “...Why?”

Not that you were at all opposed to taking the stairs... it was just different.

Shownu opened the door to the stairwell, ushering you through before stepping in behind you. Once the door closed, he reached for your hand and shot you a very proud smile.

“That’s why.”

...Oh, my god.

Could he be any cuter?

He wanted to take the stairs so he could hold your hand.

You let out a whiny sigh, dropping your head to his shoulder for a second before you began your journey down to the cafe.

“I’m going to have to quit,” you declared.

“What? Why?” Shownu asked with a chuckle.

“Because of you!” you cried softly, clearly distressed. “You’re too cute! I can’t take it anymore!”

His chuckle turned into a laugh, and he squeezed your hand as the two of you lazily descended the stairs.

“I’ll only be this cute before and after work and during lunch,” he vowed. “Whenever you’re not on the clock.”

You let out another sigh, but this one was one of defeat. “Okay, fine, I won’t quit.”

Not that you were actually planning on it. You liked your job, and you were good at it.  You would much rather break your self-imposed rule of not dating a co-worker than try to find a new job.

(Plus... there was a hidden bonus of seeing your boyfriend every single day. Okay, wait, wow - it was weird calling him your boyfriend. Weird in a good way, though.)

When you made it down to the ground floor, you (somewhat reluctantly) let go of Shownu’s hand as he opened the door to exit the stairwell. And, from then on, your lunch played out almost exactly as it always had. Like the two of you were just friends as you always had been.

About halfway through your sandwich, Charlie, one of the members of the #SSV message group, stopped by your table to say ‘hello.’

“I really like your sweater vest, by the way,” Charlie noted casually.

“Oh,” Shownu grinned, straightening in his seat. “Thank you. My, uh -- my girlfriend said she likes it, so I figured I should wear it more often.”

You didn’t even hear anything past the ‘my girlfriend’ part, though, because you had almost choked on your Diet Coke.

“I’m fine,” you assured whoever was listening, coughing and sputtering gently.

“Okay... well... see you up in the office,” Charlie said with a strange sort of smile.

And you knew just what would happen in about two minutes.

Charlie would tell everyone else about Shownu’s ‘girlfriend’ remark, and there would be a melancholic vibe in the office for the rest of the day. (The rest of the week?)

Shownu tried to assure you this would not be the case, trying to convince you his love life was not that big of a topic of discussion among your co-workers.

And you were, once again, reminded of how oblivious your boyfriend was.

“Here, you go to the break room for a minute,” you suggested before the two of you arrived back at your desks. “I want to test something out.”

Shownu nodded, obeying your request with no hesitation. He passed right by his desk and headed off to the break room.

You watched as he passed Tracy’s desk before quickly moving to sit down.

“5... 4... 3... 2...” you muttered under your breath.

“Hey, have you heard?” Tracy whispered, having suddenly appeared in the entrance of your cube.

You swiveled around in your chair. “Heard what?”

“Of course, you’ve heard,” she sighed. “You had lunch with him, didn’t you? Did you know Shownu has a girlfriend now? He used to be single, right?”

It took everything in you not to smirk.

Instead, you simply shrugged innocently. “I guess?”

Tracy let out an exasperated breath and waved her hand. “Oh, forget it. I’m giving up on setting you up with him. I mean, definitely now because he has a girlfriend, apparently, but you know what I mean. You’re hopeless.”

You plastered a beatific smile on your lips and lifted your shoulders in another innocent shrug.

One day, Tracy would probably find out that Shownu’s girlfriend was, in fact, you. But that day was not today. 

Today, you would remain the only person in the office who knew.

I mean, besides Shownu.

You wondered how long that would last...