#Mr. Bad Guy seems like such a “listening to my favourite song and thinking about my OC song’’

[golden-stag]

Once I’m caught up on Guilty Gear lore I’d love to make an animatic to a Queen/Freddie Mercury song… much to think about

[rileyslibrary]

The hot seat.

Synopsis: You decide to attend a speed dating event in the city where you're deployed. Simon “Ghost” Riley, your lieutenant, is also there.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,595

Notes:

I got this idea after a friend told me she matched with one of her colleagues on Tinder.

Fluff.

Want more?

———————————————————————

“Why don’t you just give it a try?” One of your friends suggested, “It’s not like you’ll be committing to anything.”

And when you told them there are other ways to meet new people, such as dating apps, they laughed so hard that you felt offended. “You don’t trust your own shadow,” one of them said, “how could you possibly trust a couple of pictures and a few messages before meeting a stranger?”

They were right; not only had it been months since your last date, but your trust issues weren’t helping. So you listened to your friends and decided to give it a shot. This could be your opportunity to get “back on the horse.”

They wanted to come to your house a few hours before to advise you on what to wear—it seems like it wasn’t just you who had trust issues. “You have a thing with self-sabotage,” one of them admitted, “and we don’t want you to portray yourself as less than who you really are.” A bolt claim from Jessica, the master of self-sabotage, who kept bailing her partner out of jail because he was constantly breaking into people’s houses.

You politely declined, promising to do your best. You chose a little black dress, opaque tights, and black heels. You let your hair down for once, since the army wouldn’t let you, and applied some make-up—but not too much—to enhance your features.

The speed dating event is held in a trendy downtown bar. The room is crammed with small tables, each with two chairs facing each other. You take a deep breath and walk over to the registration desk. You sign up, fill out a form with your information, and they hand you a name tag.

“This Is What You Came For” plays over the speakers, and you can’t help but wonder what made the DJ choose that song. What did I come here for, Rihanna? You think to yourself. To tell a stranger in three minutes about my food preferences and favourite colour? Is that what will ensure compatibility?

Your nerves start to kick in, so you rush to the bar. Your options are limited to beer or wine, according to the bartender. When you ask why, he starts narrating the horrors he’s seen of people attempting to calm their nerves with shots before the speed date. You choose wine and turn to face the people you’re about to meet in three-minute rounds. A few catch your eye; some look intimidated, while others appear overconfident and exuberant. “Peacocks”, as you call them.

The event organiser announces the beginning of the event, and you make your way to your assigned table. Dread grips you. What if you don’t meet anyone interesting? What if everyone you talk to is dull or uninteresting? You take a seat and wait for the event to start.

The first guy who sits down is a health freak, to put it mildly. He gets up at 4 a.m., lifts “hard” for two hours, goes to work, and waits until his next workout at around 6 p.m. He says he likes chicken because of its high protein content and asks what your favourite food is, to which you respond, “Haribos,” to piss him off.

The next one is a cryptocurrency investor. Enough said.

The third guy is a motivational speaker. You’re unsure about the “motivational” part, but he’s undeniably a “speaker.” He doesn’t. Stop. Talking. He only asks for your name, which you don’t have to say because it’s written on your tag. He then starts mumbling about books he’s read and the importance of a proper and consistent morning routine. He and Mr Health Freak could have easily become soul mates, you think to yourself.

Three minutes pass like hours, and you lower your head to the table. This was a mistake. Coming here was, as you suspected, a bad idea.

“I see you’ve already given up.” The man in front of you comments with a smile.

You look up and meet his gaze. He is tall and well-built, with short blonde hair and dark brown eyes. But it’s his sleeve tattoo that draws your attention.

It’s familiar to you. You’ve seen it before, peeking through a military uniform and tactical gloves.

Simon “Ghost” Riley.

You’d never seen him without his mask, but his build, voice, and tattoos are distinct. Your heart is racing as you struggle to remain calm. He, too, appears surprised. Did he not recognise you at first because of your make-up and hair?

Well, it seems like he recognises you now. But you’re not supposed to acknowledge his true identity; doing so might destroy everything he’s worked so hard to keep hidden all these years. It may also jeopardise your professional relationship.

But, my God, he’s hot. He’s exactly as you imagined him, if not better. It’d be best to act as cool as possible. Ignorant, stupid, call it whatever you want—just don’t reveal his identity. There are tens of thousands of people named Simon, and you are not supposed to give your surname to the other person here. So all you know about him is his name. He could be any of the other “Simons” out there.

You immediately put on a happy-go-lucky face and smile, trying to muster the courage to date your lieutenant for three minutes.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you reply, trying to play it cool.

He fidgets in his seat, still feeling uneasy. You need to act quickly.

“Yes, I’m about to give up,” you moan and pout, “so please, for the love of God, be a decent one.”

He lets out an awkward chuckle. “I’m not sure about that,” he says.

“Oh, really?” You exclaim, raising your eyebrows, “Unless you speak nonchalantly about yourself, chuck twelve egg yolks in the morning, or boast about imaginary coins, you’re good.”

“Ah,” he says hesitantly, “no, I prefer my eggs cooked.”

“Boiled, scrambled, or sunny side up?”

“I don’t mind as long as they’re cooked properly.” He responds, and you raise your fist to your mouth.

“I assume no runny egg whites?” You ask, making a disgusted face.

“Christ, no.” He smiles and shakes his head.

He appears more at ease now, thinking you haven’t identified him.

But then another problem arises. When dating, one of the first questions you usually ask is about the other person’s occupation.

“So, Simon,” you say, “what do you do for a living?”

“I, um, work as an operator,” he replies. “And you?”

That was a wise move on his part. He knows you’ll relate if he discloses his primary occupation, and you’ll start speculating. So he decided to reveal his side job. Although he is not completely honest with you, which could be interpreted as a red flag, there is a serious reason behind his answer.

“I’m a sergeant in the military,” you admit.

He nods and smirks but doesn’t ask a follow-up question.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I’m not very good at this.”

“Neither am I,” you chuckle, “but I can help you.”

“Thank you,” he says.

“Do you prefer cats or dogs, Simon?”

“I like both,” he says, “I can’t have a preference for animals; they aren’t eggs.”

“Phew!” You exclaim, theatrically placing the back of your hand on your forehead, “most of the men I met today hate cats!”

“Yeah,” Simon agrees. “I believe it’s because they don’t have control over them like dogs.”

“I feel bad for most of the women in here,” you say, looking around, “for settling for such controlling personalities.”

“How do you know I’m not controlling?” He asks, his brow furrowed.

“Men whose job is to order soldiers around, tend to live a more chilled lifestyle.” You elaborate.

“Order soldiers?” He asks, and you immediately stiffen up. “How do you know I order soldiers at my work?”

“I, um, assume you do because of your profession.” You stutter and look down at your lap.

“I said I’m an operator,” he smirks, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, “but I never said what kind of operator I am.”

Your chair has turned into a hot seat all of a sudden.

“From what you know, I could be a heavy machinery operator.” He adds, his smile widening.

You blush and turn to look at the clock; time’s almost up.

He leans forward to the table. “Why such eagerness to end our date, sergeant?” he whispers, “I thought we were doing so well.”

You raise your head to look at him. “I’m sorry, Lt.,” you admit, “I just didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“I appreciate that,” he says, “but knowing that you know who I am is already uncomfortable, don’t you think?”

You look down again, and he continues.

“Perhaps it would have been better to acknowledge the elephant in the room from the beginning.” He explains.

You let out a sigh. “You’re right,” you say, “I should have been more honest.”

He nods, and the bell rings for your next date. Simon gets up from his chair and smiles at you.

“Normally, I’d end this with a nice to meet you,” he says, “but in this case, it’s more of a nice getting to know you better,” he adds, extending his hand for a handshake.

You stand up and take his hand in yours. “Likewise, Lt.,” you say, smiling.

“See you tomorrow,” he says.

“For another date?” You joke, “You move too fast, Simon.”

“For the best military drill of your life,” he corrects you with a smirk, “for thinking you could fool me so easily.”

———————————————————————

Part 2 ->

[svchengss]

hey barista! | l.dh

summary | befriending the barista from your local cafe doesn’t seem too bad

pairing | lee donghyuck x fem!reader ft. jaemin who’s a rlly cute side character in this :(

genre | fluff, angst, slight humour (?)

warnings | a kiss?? i don’t think there’s any but if i missed anything do lmk !!

word count | 3k+

s. tg | @hyuckefi [my apologies since i didn’t release a proper teaser for this 🙏🏻]

author’s note | this is my first fic exceeding 1k words so if u enjoyed reading this, please leave some feedbacks !! rb’s are also appreciated :D ALSO I SUCK AT SUMMARIES LMAO PLS IGNORE THAT

just another day of working at palm coffee, the same old routine. cleaning the countertop and tables before opening up the cafe, prepping the ingredients - more for top favourites! - and examining the machines to make sure they’re working properly. that’s some of hyuck’s daily routines as a barista. he didn’t mind them though, he loved his job. he couldn’t specify the reason why but all these tasks are genuinely interesting to him.

seeing you drop by the cafe is a normal occurrence for him. since you are a regular customer after all, the rest of the staff already know you well. heck, they’re even good friends with you. jaemin hangs out with you more than he does despite being jaemin’s childhood friend. except for him, he doesn’t really know why. he’s not really shy, considering the fact that he’s a social butterfly. he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything to you, the only times he did so was to take your orders when the rest of the workers were busy in the store.

upon hearing the doorbell chime which signals a new customer entering the cafe, hyuck blurted out the usual line. “hello, welcome to palm coffee! how can i help-“, looking up from the cash register only to find you in a disheveled state. “-you?” he eyes you up and down, noting how a few strands of your hair were out of place, the nude lipstick smeared on the left corner of your mouth and your outfit looks really rushed. 

“sorry, what was your name again, hyuck right?” you quickly glanced at the nametag hanging nicely on his apron. “i’m in a rush right now, can i get a,” you scanned over the menu behind him, “uh, white coffee, please?”. 

“that will be six dollars. you can use the restroom in the meantime to, you know, touch up your makeup and stuff,” he takes the bills from your hand, putting them in the machine in front of him before flashing you with that warm smile of his. you wished him a quick thanks before disappearing into the back of the place.

now that was embarrassing.

your eyes scanned over the hall to find your friend before hearing her shout your name from across. damn, why does she have to be so loud? stares were directed towards you as you walked up the stairs to your designated seat. all the chatter going on in the lecture hall became quiet as soon as your professor placed her things on the desk, which means class has started. 

after hearing a two-hour lecture and writing some notes - where suddenly song lyrics and scribbles appear - the words you’ve been waiting to hear finally echoed through the speakers. 

“class is dismissed, thank you everyone for listening,” mrs. hui’s voice later being flushed out by the buzzing voices of the students walking out the hall, determined to finish their own activities. you stuffed your ipad and papers into your light yellow jansport backpack before going out to meet vic who’s waiting for you outside. 

“i’m exhausted, what did she even teach just now?” vic sighed to her heart’s content. you can’t blame her, today’s topic was quite complicated. circuits analysis or something? you can’t really wrap your head around it, your brain being stuffed with all the information. vic kept on ranting  about the problems she faced from the moment she woke up, making you giggle at some comments she made. 

“wait for me, i’m almost done,” he folded his apron neatly before shoving it into the drawer and grabbing his bag from the counter to join jaemin, who’s waiting at the front door with the keycard. hyuck accepted jaemin’s request to help him with some shopping for his sister’s birthday party next week. obviously, the rest of the staff were also invited. 

jaemin divided the shopping list into two, allowing hyuck to find the rest of the things with ease.

“now where are the streamers…” he muttered out loud enough for himself to hear, crouching down to browse through the party decorations on the shelf. or he thought so, as you could hear him sighing clearly in dire need of the certain decoration, that you decided to help him out. 

“um, hyuck? i think the party streamers are in the aisle beside this one? you look a bit troubled there,” you chuckled lightly. the heat flushed to his cheeks, feeling dumbfounded. 

“really? uh, thank you for the help,” he gave you a small grin that could hardly be seen if you didn’t spot the corner of his lips. and with that, he’s long gone with his shopping basket.

you are fond of the atmosphere you’re in right now. the decorations left you in awe - white and pink silk hanging from the wall with silver letter balloons spelling out happy birthday stitched onto them. you can see jaemin’s sister, eun-ji, being carried out of her room with a small flowy white dress and wearing a golden bow on her head, her brunette hair being tied into ponytails. the na family really adore their youngest girl.

meanwhile, there are only a couple of adults your age attending the party -  jaemin’s co-workers, some of his other friends which you aren’t familiar with and hyuck. he looked rather chill, with an oversized beige sweater and white jeans to suit the party’s theme. you’re not quite bad as well, your hair combed nicely and kept neat with a headband, a white sundress with strawberry patterns on it fit nicely on your figure, complemented with a heart-locket necklace placed on your collarbones. before reaching jaemin’s house, you made sure to drop by a local store to get some gifts for eun-ji. she’s a very well-mannered kid which made you adore her very much.

“y/n? very glad to see you here,” hyuck said as he approached you, offering you a plate of cake which he cut.

“i could say the same to you too, mr. lee,” you let out a soft laugh. he made sure to keep a mental note over how pretty you looked today.

“y/n, hyuck! glad you two broke the ice, did you know how hurt i was seeing you two act like strangers whenever y/n came by the cafe?” jaemin enveloping you into a small hug before fake pouting. you can only laugh at the fake debate the two guys in front of you were having. after conversing with hyuck and jaemin for quite some time, you realised that he’s a cool person to talk to, where all this time, you thought he hated you for some reason. before leaving, you made sure to thank mrs. na for hosting the party and off you went home. 

following the previous encounters, hyuck felt much more comfortable around you - even hanging out with you during his shift where you would do your assignments at the cafe he’s working at. every now and then, he would also invite you to hang out with him and jaemin. however, what he didn’t realise was how he slowly pent up feelings - romantically. 

ding dong!

he pressed on the doorbell button with a box of doughnuts in his left hand. the three of you were supposed to be having a movie night, but jaemin got caught up with his groupwork which leaves the two of you alone. 

“hey hyuck! come in,” you gestured, arranging the cushions on your sofa to make it look more organized. the interior of your rented apartment is calming, the light grey walls suiting the navy blue sofa and furniture with darker undertones. the walls are also not left empty, with modern art portraits hanging from it. 

“i brought donuts, your favourite, right?” he opened the box, placing it on the coffee table while you set up the television. you wished him a quick thank you before grabbing two canned drinks from the refrigerator, handing one to him and pressing play on the remote control. you two weren’t quiet throughout the whole movie, with snarky comments on how hot the actors were or how stupid they were being were made. 

he didn’t know you were sleepy though as all of a sudden, he could feel the weight of your head on top of his shoulder. it was a rather awkward situation as he didn’t move at all so you could sleep comfortably. before long, he joined you and dozed off to wonderland. the next morning, you were more than embarrassed to find yourself cuddling up to him, with the next movie still playing on the screen.

seeing your figure outside the front door made hyuck more excited to greet you today. after making a quick order for a green tea latte, you fished out your purse from your handbag, feeling frantic if you’ve lost it outside. luckily, you were the only customer in line as the rest of them were already seated and carrying out their own businesses.

“sorry, but i think this might be yours,” you turned around to find a tall-looking guy handing out your black purse. a wave of relief washed over your soul, thanking the latter profusely.

“mind if i buy you a drink? i hate feeling like i owe someone,” you offered, which he gladly accepted. 

“i’d like a double espresso, please,” he kept his hands into his pockets. 

“and your name, sir?” hyuck looked mildly bothered.

“yukhei,” he ran his slightly blonde hair through the slender fingers. hyuck hated how cocky he looked, feeling more annoyed than ever over the scene that was played in front of him just now. he hated how yukhei looked at you. 

why should he get jealous? he’s just a mere friend to you, that’s all. you have to stop overreacting, hyuck. 

those words kept running through his mind all day.

“dude, are you okay? you looked-” jaemin opened the staff room, interrupting him from the self-talk he was having, “-distracted,” finishing up his sentence. 

“nope, i’m just fine,” he said, bringing the honey smile back onto his face. jaemin nodded before disappearing back to the front to serve the customers. 

stop being so jealous, hyuck. you’re just a friend. not more, not less. 

“jaemin, how do you know if you like someone?” that question is kind of shocking to him, especially if it’s coming from hyuck. of course, he’s had a crush before but it was during middle school. just a silly, little crush. growing up, he’s never had one - not even in high school.

“you’ve asked the right person,” jaemin managed to do his obnoxious voice, even while driving the car. he’s right, he is the matchmaker of the friend group, just how many relationships worked out because of him? eyes still focused on the road - he’s a responsible driver of course, he began to explain the feeling to hyuck, making his points loud and clear.

“first of all, you start feeling a little too happy whenever you’re around them. and no, this is not the oh-we’re-best-friends-forever type of happy, it’s the i’ll-make-you-the-happiest-person-on-earth one. not to forget, you will also experience some kind of turbulence in your heart, expect them to be jumping around a bit. or a lot, whichever suits you the best.

you also tend to feel nervous around that person. like, stuttering your words in obvious or non-obvious ways, feeling faster heartbeats than usual, you name it. oh! if you’ve ever felt jealous whenever they are around someone else, i mean, in affectionate ways, you might have one. however, my tip is for you not to act out of your mind. you don’t want to ruin whatever relationship you have currently, do you?” even when driving, he still managed to deliver his points with full precision and accuracy. 

nodding his head, hyuck took some mental notes to be thought through when he gets home. 

hyuck stared at you, whose figure is snoring soundly on his lap. he assumed you must be feeling exhausted, mid-terms just ended after all. while threading his fingers through your hair, he remembered what jaemin said to him weeks earlier.

1. being happy around them

like jaemin said, it is normal to be happy around your friends. but being with you, it kind of gave more joy for him. not to mention that he started to catch himself smiling over your texts and being reminded of you over small things - your favorite donut topping, the name of that one stray puppy you gave. 

2. feeling nervous around them

his heart would beat a lot faster whenever you get closer towards him, whether accidentally or to mess with him. 

3. getting jealous over someone else

he shouldn’t be jealous of how yukhei looked at you. but he seriously can’t help it. and the way he’s always there during your hangouts. he doesn’t care if he seems petty, yukhei just isn’t in his favour.

his deep thoughts came to a halt when you called out his name, eyes still half-closed, attempting to open them a bit more. 

“did i interrupt you or something? gosh, i’m so sorry,” you quickly stood up but he pulls your body back onto his lap, asking for you to stay.

“what are we?” that question caught you off-guard. the same one that has been at debate in the back of your mind these days. 

i don’t know hyuck, it’s complicated. 

“what do you think we are, hyuck?” you shot the question back at him, your gaze piercing through his soul.

“i don’t know. it’s just-” 

“are you sure?” a deep sigh left your lips. have you been interpreting his body languages wrong? did he only see you as a normal friend, nothing more? 

“sorry, i’m not feeling well. see you later hyuck, bye,” you tried your best to shoot the sweet smile of yours but only a faint one seemed to appear. once you stepped out of the room, he buried his face into his hands. 

god, what have i done?

“don’t feel too down, y/n. maybe there’s something more that he couldn’t bring himself to say?” vic suggested, handing you some tissue.

“i don’t know, i seriously have no idea. why can’t he just say it?” you continued to sob into her arms, she pitied you, especially in your condition right now. but she can’t do anything to help you, other than consoling and listening. 

jaemin knew something was wrong, from your rare visits to the cafe to hyuck not being himself lately. something was definitely wrong and it’s between the both of you. sure, hyuck might be saying that he’s fine again and again, but his expressions can’t lie. the sweet smile of his is long gone and his jokes are no longer heard. whatever it is, jaemin is determined to solve it. he just wants his best friends back. 

looks of dismay can be read all over hyuck’s face when the person facing him is no other than the guy himself, yukhei. still, he tried to control his composure, not making his inner feelings any more obvious.

“so what brings you here?” he took a sip of the mineral water, still making his throat rough from the tension hanging in the air. 

“look, i’m not here for any fights. i know you like y/n, everybody can see it. and honestly, you were oblivious to your own feelings,” he rubbed his hands together. the latter’s puzzled face made him continue his words.

“i’m not trying to make her like me, or whatever you’ve been assuming. sorry if i gave the wrong message but you are the one who should make a move. i can see from the way she looks at you, the feelings are mutual,” he straightened up the denim jacket outside the white shirt wrapping his figure. 

letting out a heavy sigh, hyuck’s face begins to soften up. “no, i should be the one who’s sorry. i’ve been such a prick to everyone around me lately, especially you,” he took of the cap from his head, messing up his hair. 

“no problem, bro. it’s understandable, i guess. now good luck with her, please treat her well,” the two guys exchanged a fist bump for the problem solved. jaemin leaned his back against the wall, smiling and feeling satisfied.

you called out jaemin’s name but to no avail. he invited you to his apartment but seeing that the lights are out, it’s clear enough that he hasn’t finished whatever he was doing yet. just as you were about to leave, you saw hyuck at the other side of it, both your faces mirroring the same look of confusion.

“so, uh, how have you been doing these days? it’s been a while since we talked,” he chose to break the silence. now, you two were sitting facing each other by the balcony. inhaling the breeze, you paused for a moment before responding to his question.

“i’ve been feeling, not as usual. definitely not happy but not that sad,” you pushed some of the loose hair strands hanging on your forehead behind your ears before asking about his.

“you know what, i’m just going to be direct with you. i, lee donghyuck have been holding feelings for you since i don’t know when. yeah sure, i wasn’t really sure at first about what i was going through. i guess i was just scared of how you would react,” he scratched his ears which are not feeling itchy at all, but rather an attempt to distract himself from the overwhelming emotions deep inside him. 

not wanting to waste time any longer, you placed your right hand onto his cheek, standing on the heels of your feet to bring your two lips together. the kiss was short before he pulls you back in for another, this time a more passionate one. he could feel you smile against his lips before enveloping your body into his arms.

“i’ve missed you, you know?” he whispered, his voice tender, directing right into your ears before you replied with how you missed him more. the both of you continued to whisper sweet nothings while embracing each other’s presence. 

jaemin looked at the both of you from a distance, his heart swelling with pride. 

— another pair of lovers matched, cupid jaemin signing out.

[lucy90712]

Karl jacobs- mr beast

wc- 2117

Warnings: none

~ Two weeks ago I randomly got a call from a man who invited me to a shoot for a video, believe me I was sceptical at first which the man seemed to understand but he provided me with all the information I could ever need and answered all of my questions so I believed him and agreed to go and now is the day of the shoot. To my knowledge there will be a few others there as well as a whole crew so if this is a bad situation at least I won't be alone.

My parents think I'm insane for going to this and they have made me promise to keep my phone on me at all times and to text them that I'm safe when I get there, it's nice that their worried but I honestly think I'll be fine. The friend that I've told seem to be thinking the exact opposite in fact they are convinced that I'm going to a mr beast shoot but I'm not too sure. They seem to think that because we live in North Carolina that this is the only possible explanation but I think that they would say that it was for mr beast so that the whole situation seemed less sketchy.

For the day of the shoot which happens to be today we were instructed to wear what we normally would but not to wear too much makeup because it doesn't look good on camera. I took this on board and wore my mom jeans with a black crop top just because it was plain and not too over the top, I don't want to stand out too much. I also barely put on any makeup I just covered the dark circles under my eyes and the few spots I had and I put on mascara so that I didn't look like I had no eyelashes.

The location I had to go to was only about 35 minutes drive from my house which was nice because I wasn't feeling a long drive today. I woke up early enough to have time to make myself breakfast and get coffee on the journey. At the local Starbucks drive through I got my usual order and talked to the girl at the window for a moment because she happens to be one of my friends sisters so we know one another.

"Isn't today the day if that mysterious video shoot your going to" she asked

"Yeah I have to be there in like 50 minutes" I said

"Well have fun meeting mr beast" she said handing me my drink

I rolled my eyes as I pulled away and started my drive. I listened to my Spotify playlist on the way just vibing to each song that played normally it plays at least one song that I'm not that into but today all of them were some of my favourite songs so I think today will turn out to be a good day.

As I arrived to the location I noticed that it was in this really random place with a bunch of big warehouses which I'm not gonna lie was a little sketchy but there seemed to be quite a few people about with cameras and other equipment so I calmed down again. I got out my car and went to the place that I was told to in the email which was relatively easy to find once I knew where the people were going and a guy led me into the middle of this warehouse with a few other people who were obviously taking part too.

Me and this one guy got talking while we waited and he seemed to know a little more than I did about what was happening so we talked about the video and this whole sort of experience. He was really cute too he had kind of long fluffy brown hair and lovely blue eyes that were and interesting shape but they really suited his face, I also noticed that he had his nails painted which made him seem even cooler much to cool for me to be talking to him. He was super nice to me and we had a good conversation until we had to start filming.

A few more people walked in with cameras following them as they talked but when they got closer I recognised the face and I couldn't believe it. My friends were right it was mr beast and his friends or at least a few of them. As they came in the guy I was talking to went over and joined them as they explained the video concept to the rest of us.

"Right for todays video we are going to get all these people to hide in pairs around these warehouses and whoever is found last wins $100,000 to share" mr beast explained

They sorted people into pairs but there was an odd number so I was left on my own.

"Slightly awkward but one person didn't turn up so Karl is going to step in and be y/n's partner for this" Chris explained

This Karl guy came over and he was the guy I talked to earlier, I got a bit embarrassed realising that I had absentmindedly been talking to this guy who's so well known as if it was nothing. The poor guy was probably so confused that I had no idea who he wasn't while at a mr best shoot hopefully I can redeem myself with this challenge.

We each took cameras to film as we found our hiding places which we had 10 minutes to go because the area we had was so big. Most people ran off to the furthest warehouses but me and Karl decided to stay a bit closer hoping that all the others would be found quickly. We went into this relatively small but tall looking warehouse which had a small upstairs bit to it where we looked for a good hiding place, there wasn't a whole load of options apart from this old wardrobe which looked like it could fit the both of us. We decided to keep looking seeing as we could always come back if we found no where else.

After checking another 2 warehouses that were almost empty we realised that our best option would be that wardrobe so we went back and squeezed ourselves in leaving one door open for now at least until we heard movement near by so that it wouldn't be quite as cramped. The both of us did fit in this wardrobe but on the inside it was smaller than it looked so we were pressed right against each other which would be awkward if you hadn't already embarrassed yourself in front of the person so I felt 10 times more awkward in this position.

We had to film ourselves which was quite hard with the darkness and the cramped space but Karl knew what he was doing so he took the camera off me and filmed the both of us explaining where we were showing just outside the wardrobe so that the viewers would know when the others were close to finding us.

Soon enough the timer went off indicating that our hiding time was up and now we really had to be careful not to make too much noise as we could've found any second I had kind of forgot about the fact that this was for a whole lot of money up until now because I was just so annoyed at myself for being such an idiot but now it felt really real and I was starting to feel quite competitive.

We waited what felt like an age before we heard any movement but when I heard the door open I almost jumped out my skin because it was so quiet up until that point. I gave Karl a look and the both of us forced ourselves further into the wardrobe and shut the door as quietly as we could making it completely pitch black.

It was a lot more squished in the wardrobe now as there was no space to move, there was no good way to stand because we had to had some part of our bodies touching or else we wouldn't fit. Karl whispered telling me to turn my phone touch on so that he could film for a second because he said that it wouldn't be seen from outside.

"We just heard the door open and there is movement downstairs so the door in now closed and its super dark without the light" Karl explained to the camera

"It's also super claustrophobic in here with the door shut" I added putting my head over his shoulder so that the camera could see me

He put the camera down and I turned off my touch and we just kind of listened and we heard the door close again or so we thought but it wasn't worth the risk so we left it a little longer before we felt safe to be a little louder but we didn't want to risk opening the door again so we stayed how we were.

It was actually a good time talking a little bit like we were before the filming started, Karl is a very sweet guy he really just wants to get to know me as a real person and not just someone helping him do his job. He seemed to really care about what I did with my life and who I am seeing as I know a bit about him and he knew that he was interested in learning about me.

Our nice conversation was soon interrupted when the door opened again and we heard voices getting closer to us. The sound of the metal stairs that lead to where we are could be heard which meant that they were close. There was a panicked feeling between the two of us and Karl pulled me closer to him just incase they opened one door they might not be able to see us.

"They could be in the wardrobe there" I heard a muffled voice say

Mine and Karl's breathing slowed down so that they couldn't hear any noise at all and if they did well they have great hearing. It was at this point that I realised Karl had his arm around my waist holding my back to his chest which was making me blush but it was dark so no one could see. The door opened on the other side and a camera was pointed in.

"There no one in this side do you really think they would both fit on the other side?" Someone asked

"I don't think so honestly but we really should check" another said

I knew it was over from that point and I was right the second door opened and cameras went straight into my face, Karl also let go of my waist at this point not wanting that to be on camera. Karl got out the wardrobe and offered his hand to help me out.

"Congratulations you guys have won" mr beast said

"It took us forever to find you so well done" Chris said

"Oh my this is amazing thank you" I said feeling quite overwhelmed

Obviously the prize for winning was $50,000 each which was absolutely amazing and just so life changing like there is so many things I could do with that amount of money but I have no idea what that will be yet.

"You have won $50,000 congra" mr beast started

"Wait I want y/n to have my share I don't need it" Karl interrupted

"Karl there is no need for you to do that I'm more than ok with $50,000" I said

"You are taking the money please it would make me happy" he said

I accepted the fact that Karl was never going to give in so now I'm $100,000 richer which is insane no one is going to believe me until this video comes out. My parents are going to think I've committed a crime of some form which isn't good but they will have to believe me eventually so it's fine.

The shoot wrapped up and I was heading to my car to go back home when Karl came running over and gave me his phone number saying he wanted to hang out sometime. What has my life become? I started the day thinking that I could be in danger and have ended it with $100,000 and the phone number of one of the people that works for a huge YouTube channel, it's almost like a dream.

[emptymasks]

I’ve seen a lot about your thoughts on Elisabeth and Tanz der Vampire, and they’ve been really helpful getting into those musicals! But you have a huge list of other musicals that people can get into…

So I was wondering if you had any musicals you hadn’t mentioned in a while that you really like or would like to talk about??? (preferably something from your lists that has a blue heart please?)

Oh if only you knew how long the list of European musicals really is... I however have only seen 9 (if I counted right) and I have a lot more that I still need to watch. Oh also, I only put the blue hearts on any musicals that I was providing multiple links for so people could see which version I reccoment the most highly. If a musical only had one link and didn't have a blue heart it doesn't mean I didn't like it.

I've watched: Mozart das Musical, Elisabeth das Musical, Tanz der Vampire, 3 Musketiers, Mozart L'Opéra Rock, Dracula (the Graz production), Rebecca das Musical, Roméo et Juliette and Schikaneder.

If you enjoyed those two you're likely to enjoy Rebecca! It's written by the same composer/lyricist team as Elisabeth and Mozart (and same lyricist as Tanz der Vampire - though if you're listening to any German musical, original or translated, 90% of the time the lyrics will have been done by Michael Kunze that man is everywhere). The Stuttgart production has my favourite set design of any musical! Well... Actually probably. There are so many big set pieces it's insane, way more than I've seen in some Broadway and West End musicals. You can tell so much work went into it and the visual effects that I won't spoil if you don't know the plot but if you know the plot you know what I mean by the effects at the end are so good and I didn't expect them at all and I freaked out so much the first time I watched it. Jan Ammann as Maxim in the Stuttgart production is the best Maxim. No I won't take any argument. Other actors feel a bit one-dimensional to me, but the way Maxim acts at times comes from trauma and some actors and productions seem to forget that, but Jan really goes for it and his Maxim is a lot more sympathetic and I just want to give him a hug. Pia Douwes as Mrs Danvers, if you've seen her in Elisabeth what more do I need to say, she's amazing. A musical goddess. Her Danny is a bit more wild than some, but she kills it. My favourite video, which I put the blue heart next to, has understudy Christina Patten as Ich/I, but I adore her she's my favourite. She adds some spunk to Ich in act 2 and her voice is so pretty and aaaa. I just love these three actors together in these roles.

Roméo et Juliette is another favourite of mine! It's hard to choose which one to recommend, but it has to be the original 2000/2001 production because of the sweetness and chemistry and voices of Damien Sargue and Cecilia Cara as Romeo and Juliet. They're so pretty and work together so well. The only reason I say it's hard to pick is Mercutio. I adore him, but in the original production they cut out a song they had planned for him and he doesn't really do much at all? In the 2010 revival they gave him two more songs and you care about him so much more and John Eyzen plays such a good Mercutio. So I'd recommend the original but if you want to like Mercutio more, which you should he's amazing, I'd recommend watching at least clips of John's. It's an interesting musical because all productions are non-replica and also change around the order of songs, add or take away characters, all sorts. The Hungarian production is also very popular and I'm sure it's great, I just haven't' gotten around to watching it yet.

Mozart das Musical was the first non-English language musicals I watched so I have a fondness for it, but it's not my favourite. However, I do realise I have forgotten most of the songs and the few I've gone back and listened to are better than I remember.

Dracula isn't super popular and I understand why, I don't love the plot of the Dracula/Mina romance in it, however. I do love this musical because despite how I find the plot lacking, the songs are so good! At least, I love them. And the actors are all doing a great job. And it's one of the few Dracula adaptions to keep Quincy Morris so they get bonus points for that.

Mozart L'Opéra Rock and modern French musicals... This isn't necessarily a bad thing, but they're often more like pop-rock operas now. So if you're not into musicals with that style of music it might not be for you, but I still enjoyed it even though I didn't think I would because of the style of music. Mozart and Salieri's chemistry is very good, Salieri's bisexual crisis song is iconic, actually all of Salieri's songs are iconic.

Schikaneder... eh. I didn't like it that much and I didn't really like any of the songs. There's no English subtitles, but someone sent me the entire English synopsis and I watched it with a German friend so I had double the help of understanding it. Doesn't mean others might not like it, just none of the songs stood out to me and I had no desire to listen to any of them again. It's by Steven Scharwz of Wicked fame and I love Wicked, but I didn't love this.

3 Musketiers!! God it's so underrated and not spoken about within the European musical fandom that I even forget about it and literally forgot to write about it earlier in this post. It's a Dutch musical (though did also have a German production) and it's really good!? Faces you might know are Pia Douwes as Milady de Winter, Stanley Burlseon as Cardinal Richeliu (Netherlands Der Tod in Elisabeth), Henk Poort as Athos (Netherlands Phantom and Jean Valjean). The dialgoue is funny, the songs are good, some of the set pieces have no right to exist in this tiny musical?? They made this giant boat and pelt the actors with rain just for one 5 minute song and then we never see the boat again? And while I recommend the Dutch one because Dutch musicals deserve more love and it has official English subtitles!! Official ones, not fanmade! I have the DVD and it comes with English subtitles (and Dutch and German subtitles) which is so nice. The German version is also good, good cast, Pia came back and Uwe Kroger as Richeliu and omg they rearranged the songs and the German arrangement of Nicht Aus Stein is insane and amazing and frankly iconic.

That's all of the ones I have watched. Next on my list to watch are Rudolf and Notre Dame de Paris, both of which I have listened to some songs from and already love (I've listened to way too much of Notre Dame de Paris and am so in love).

I want to start organising streams where I'll host the musical either by getting the video from Youtube or my own files and anyone who wants to join can come along and watch with us, chat with us if you want or just watch there's no pressure to chat. I thought about doing weekly streams? This would also make me finally watch some of the ones I've been meaning to for ages. But I keep wondering about time zones. I'm in the UK and would want to stream at about 11pm at the latest (11pm BST/GMT+1 as we’re in daylight savings at the moment, if the streams continue past the end of October which would be wild then I’ll make a note of the time change that would be to 11pm GMT), which I know can work for other UK and Europeans, but for any Americans would be in the afternoon. So, I wondered if doing it on a weekend would be better? Then it doesn't matter if it's in the afternoon? Maybe Saturday evenings then? It would either be Saturday evenings UK time or Friday evenings UK time. What do you guys think? If people are down then I'll make a separate post with a list of what we'll be watching each week and if anything happens to me that means I can't stream one week then everything will just get pushed back a week, but I don't see that as likely to happen. And I'll only be streaming those that have English subtitles, so don't worry about not being able to understand anything.

edit: am also open to 10pm bst if others want that, im just trying to think of what time works best for everyone so sorry if 11pm is a little late for europeans, i know 10pm could be a little early for americans. also in case it sounded like these are the only musicals i will be streaming, thats not so, ive got more than just the ones mentioned on this list!

(Tagging some people who I know are or might be interested in streams to see what you think of that plan: @sirona-art @ringwraith100 @tanz-der-trash @smilingwoland @the-weird-dane @witchgaye @ami-fidele @kisstheghouls @looking-4-happiness @ladysapphire928 @sloanedestler @tinywound @persephonaae @phoenixdewinter @uwucoffee @freshbloodandgothicism )

[pluviophile-bookworm]

HSMTMTS 2x10: New and a bit alarming... ok, very alarming

I don't even know at this point if I'm more nervous or excited for this episode. I've done my waiting and, well, whatever lies ahead, good or bad, or a little bit of both, I just can't wait anymore, even though I haven't been so scared to press play since... well, since last week. Guess I should just go for it, then:

Ooh, shady Seb doing the recap! We love to see it. Like, seriously, I'm anxious about the Seblos fight, but shady Seb is kind of my new favourite Seb.

I just... Ashlyn's acting is top tier. Emotional connection to the material? Superb! Chemistry with her co-lead... well, he'd have to be co-leading for any chemistry to be possible. I love Ricky, and I feel for him with all he's been through, but he's just not lead material right now. And it shows. Especially next to Ashlyn, who is killing it!

Miss Jenn is on the verge of a bloody mental breakdown and I just... wish I could do something to make things better. She reminds me of my mum when a deadline approaches for her to submit an article, and I just feel for her right now. Gosh, I'm feeling for everybody today. My empathy seems to be at its peak and I might just burst from all these emotions this episode is making me feel even before the 5-minute mark.

Ok, but Miss Jenn being stressed means Carlos is stressed for two, which means... this is a really bad time for him and Seb to have personal problems. My heart just can't handle it.

Wow... I never thought I'd see the day! The two leads are actually talking to each other! This is a mid-July miracle!

Why does everyone keep pretending their HSM was good? It was a flaming hot mess! A child could see that.

Miss Jenn needs a lot of work on her 'gracious face'. I, like Carlos, have quite some notes. Only mine aren't exactly, how do you say... verbally formulated quite yet.

Did Carlos just refer to Miss Jenn as 'mother'? Because yes.

I've been in a couple of local theatre productions in my day, but none of them had actual physical sets — we relied on the audience's imagination quite a lot — so I wouldn't know what a good set is made of... but even I can tell that plywood and Elmer's glue = not good.

Kourtney is a multi-tasking icon and we love her. I feel like I don't say this enough, but she deserves all the love.

Ooh, shady Seb is... well, shady! 'Quit school and get a job at the pizza shop?' — I mean, you don't see Reddy or Kourtney (or Howie, for that matter) quitting school in order to work at the Slices! Those kids juggle it all and, as someone who's never had to balance school and a job all at once, they have my deepest admiration.

Still, I think they should have thought about 'inventing' something re: transformation earlier than this point. The personal drama has taken up too much of their time.

Why does everyone keep inviting people over to Ashlyn's? I mean, it's not like I've ever heard her complain, but the girl needs some rest! And her house is not a public space.

Oh, so they're making this into a contest? I mean, I have never been a fan of competition, but to each their own. And Redlyn are hosting! This is going to be so beautiful! (You know, unless the boys try to sleep — see my post from yesterday about Reddy's background noise machine)

'I'm not worried. But North High should be!' Ooh, I love this look on Ashlyn! See, there's a lead to take notes from! And Ricky should be the first to do so. Take notes about what a lead acts like, I mean.

Oooooh, Big Red claps back! We love to see it. Although, you know, it stems from the fact that he's nervous about coming up with a solution to the transformation problem. 'I get bossy around the power tools' — Yes, sweetie, and I love that look on you. Maybe you should be around power tools more often, if that helps.

Ughhh, look what the cat brought in! Lily (I wish I knew her last name so I could refer to her by it exclusively, but we'll have to make do). I hate that girl. She reminds me quite exactly of the girl who bullied me in seventh grade to the point where I wished I'd die before having to deal with her at school again. She and Lily both bring out my aggressive side, and I hate that about them.

Ricky — 'so good at being a leading man'? I don't know what Lily is playing at here, but Ricky has not shown himself to be a very good leading man this season. He has the potential to be, but he has not fulfilled it by this point. Sure, he supports his friends and they support him, but that's basic decency. Not yet good leadership. No hate on Ricky, just the truth.

'I vaguely remember him' — please tell me this is setup for Ricky leading Lily on and then slamming the door in her face with the truth. The way I see it, he's been given a chance here. A chance to be the supportive, protective best friend Big Red deserves. I just... have a lot of ideas about this and I don't want it to end badly instead.

'I'm just not well-liked here, and I don't know what to do' — well, of course you aren't well-liked, you little— (ok, ok, calm down, breathe, 10, 9, 8...) whatever. I mean, she hasn't even considered basic decency, as it seems. Must be a new concept to her.

'Don't start with me, Carlos!' Wow. As much as I hate it that my two faves' only interaction in so long is so hostile, I kind of like this side of Big Red. I wonder what other sides of himself he's been hiding.

Listen, I don't like Seb being patronised and babied, but... 'Chip, this is your mother speaking: go call your mother!' made me laugh so hard. They're leaning into the on-stage family dynamic and I live for it.

EJ's idea of using old skateboards for the spinning contraption is... a brilliant callback to the fact that Ricky and Big Red were first characterised as skateboarders... you know, before diving headfirst into the theatre thing. And it feels like it might actually work.

Miss Jenn's excitement at seeing Mr Mazzara ('Benjamin!!!') is perhaps only topped by the fact that he was halfway home, got a text from her and instantly went back to the school. I mean, these two have something that's really big.

Miss Jenn referring to the kids as 'my children', combined with Carlos calling her 'mother' earlier just warms my heart so much! Those guys really are family. I live for it.

Ok, but... as clear as it is that the Wildcats are very far behind NH in terms of budget, rehearsal time and who knows what else, I hate seeing Miss Jenn resigned to them losing. I want to see her have faith in them, talk about how they will win, and, in her own words, 'trust the process'. I mean, I guess it's good that, as a teacher, she wants to prepare her kids for a possible defeat (and I mean really possible if they don't step up their game immediately, especially some of them * cough* Ricky *cough *), but a team that goes out to the field expecting to lose has a very minimal chance of winning.

Despite everything I've been saying again and again about Nini lately, the fact that she just delivered a very different 'No, Seb' has just redeemed her. See, this one wasn't dismissive or patronising — this was like, 'no, Seb, don't put yourself down' and I love that spin on the catchphrase I'd grown to hate. See, many things can be redeemed. And some simply cannot. * cough* Devil's spawn Lily *cough *. Also, Seb being self-conscious about the fact that Carlos 'doesn't have many options' at East Hight is the perfect setup for In a Heartbeat — meaning they will either have a chance to talk about their issue, or they have a telepathic connection, in which case, what kind of soulmate stuff is that?

'You're my sister; he's my cousin' — yeah, Ash, putting it like that makes it sound a lot weirder than it should, but I do get what you're trying to say. This is not a drill! Ashlyn is a Portwell shipper (heck, maybe even the captain of that ship) — but I feel like we already knew that.

'Why'd I never hear about this?' — and there it goes. Within the same scene, Nini was redeemed and then made aggravating again. What does she care if Gina thought Ricky sent her chocolates? He didn't. Because he and Gina can't be anything but very good friends. And I feel like good friends is what Gina needs. Maybe that's why I wanted EJ to be that for her initially (or it was because I'm aroace and don't tend to notice romantic attraction between fictional characters — or real people for that matter — unless it's explicitly stated to be there). But I've been on board of the majestic S.S. Portwell for a few weeks now and it's finally about to set sail.

Yeah, Nini, get a root beer, calm the heck down and get over it!

'Your other clockwise!' — Why does this even need to be said? How many 'clockwise's are there? I absolutely understand why Big Red gets the way he gets around power tools. I'd be on edge too, if the people I was trying to work with didn't know what way clockwise is. Still, I feel like by the time I'm 30, nobody younger than me would have a reason to know what way clockwise is, and I don't know if I feel bad or neutral about it.

Oh, so there's no telepathy involved in Seblos' problem resolution — it's been Redlyn's good communication all along. I might have known.

Ooh, Portwell is being discussed on both sides! PORTWELL NATION HOW WE FEELING

Nini? Why is everything about Nini? There's no way everything is about Nini. In all seriousness, though, EJ's worries about letting the next girl go seem valid in regards to Gina, given that she explicitly stated (though not within earshot of EJ or anyone who could have tipped him off) that she needs someone who will show up and stay. But they'll figure it out. They'll find a way. I know it. They will, or I will riot, and I know I won't be alone in that.

Ooh, Howie is giving Kourtney the original blueprints! Looks like Reddy isn't the only one who has a spy on the inside.

Ahhh, Ricky! Not 'Let You Go' again. I haven't cried to it in three days and I was not ready to break that streak. But... wait, this is where Carlos approaches Ricky to ask him for help with writing a song for Seb, isn't it? I am definitely ready for this.

Oh, is it... is it Ricky who suggests Carlos write a song for Seb? Now that is what a good leading man looks like.

'I'm adjusting to being called bro' — me too, Carlito, me too. But... this scene must have been so emotional for Josh, given that he hadn't come out yet. I remember him crying during The Climb and... all I'm saying is I want Ricky to come out at some point, too.

Oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh... they were just talking about love languages and that's when Carlos shows up? Cinematic. Wait, there's Portwell too? This is what dreams are made of.

My oh my oh my! Risotto! For real this time. I might have just teared up. (Full disclosure: I did.) I've only had Portwell for about three weeks, but if anything happens to them, I will... you know how the meme goes. [side note: Wait, when I said 'for real this time', I was not expecting EJ would say it, much less word for word. Am I... writing this show now? It's usually my dad who predicts people's lines in TV shows]

'Not that I know of'... excuse me while I hyperventilate! These two are literal soulmates. They might share a brain, too, for all that I know. Portwell nation you ok guys?

I love that Ricky helped Carlos out with this song and is supporting him through it, but... I just might have preferred for him not to be there. I kind of need Seblos to have this moment to themselves. But, you know, with the way they feel about each other it might as well be like they're alone in the universe, let alone the room.

Ok, but Frankie's voice... brings out feelings in me that I didn't know I was capable of. Make of that what you will. Also, I'm not sobbing my eyes out, you are.

Ahhh Reddy my sunshine my sweet boy I love you but why did you have to cut Seblos' moment short? They were going to kiss, I know it. Oh well, they probably will, later on. Off-screen probably, but who cares? Not everything is for us to see. At least Carlos and Ricky had a moment there... Carlos calling Ricky 'bro' made me more emotional than I expected. It's like Miss Jenn says in s1: 'They're best bros, and that's a sacred thing... for reasons I will never understand'.

Ricky's acting sounds like a cat about to spit up a hairball, and it's so funny... in a scene that is supposed to be arguably the most dramatic of the entire play, that is not a good thing.

Oh my, oh my... you did not! You did not just end the episode with Ricky taking a fall from who knows how high. I was not ready. This episode was entirely too much for me. I will need 10 to 15 business days to recover from this, and we all know there aren't that many. But in the meantime you'll find me obsessively listening to In a Heartbeat for hours on end. Seriously, this episode is too much.

[nnightskiess]

r e q u e s t : Hi ! How are you ? I’m so sad as to what happened with Naya she was a huge inspiration in my life and It hit me really bad But I want to ask for an imagine where you are Santana’s little sister and you come in to join the glee club and you’re better then Rachel and she starts saying stuff but you pop off on her and Santana backs you up?? If you can, sorry if it doesn’t make sense

                                                             ✫彡

Y/N sat cross-legged on a chair in the back row, texting one of her friends to try and pass the time. Mr. Schuester was late, as always. Her older sister, Santana, walked in with Brittany close behind her. They sat down in the chairs in front of Y/N and turned around to the younger Lopez to engage her in their conversation. 

Their conversation was cut short when a loud clap of hands and an exciting yelp, coming from no other than Rachel Berry, interrupted them. Santana immediately rolled her eyes, knowing she was about to say something stupid again. 

“You guys, I have amazing news!”

Y/N groaned loudly, knowing whatever Rachel had to say would probably only have interest to Rachel herself.

“I just made up my mind on what song I’ll be singing for regionals.” She went to stand in front of the group. If she had paid close attention, she’d seen that not all of them were pleased with her statement. 

“What you’ll be singing?” Y/N cocked an eyebrow when Rachel stared at her for a few seconds. “We can all sing, we’re not your ensamble.”

“Didn’t you see how much everyone loved my solo at sectionals?! I want... I mean, we want that same standing ovation for regionals!” 

“Oh, hell no.”

Puck cleared his throat, looking between Y/N and Rachel. “I kind of think Little-Lopez has a point.” 

“Yeah, why can’t someone else get a solo this time? Sure, you’re an amazing singer but maybe you should give someone else a... chance... for once?” Artie tried to reason with her but his voice slowly died down after seeing Rachel’s disappointed expression.

The girl looked at Y/N for a split second only to see her with her arms crossed and a sneer on her face.

“So I’m taking you guys don’t want to win regionals then? Because we won’t if we’re changing our obviously, well-oiled, brilliant plan.” She took a deep breath and scribbled the name of the song down on the whiteboard- Always Starting Over from the musical If/Then.

“Listen here, Berry.” Y/N cocked her head to one side, “That obviously, well-oiled, brilliant plan of yours makes us look like your jazz hands, dancing oompa loompa’s who are just there to try and make you look better. Well, Willy Wonka, get this- I’m done being your background furniture that you picked up along the road just because we were free to take and have piss stains all over us.”

Santana whistled proudly at the insult her younger sister had just thrown at Rachel and it earned a few hums of approval from some of the other Glee club members.

Rachel was taken back for a few seconds but regained herself and cleared her throat, “Did you forget the cheering I got after my part? Why can’t you see that that’s exactly what we need to win regionals as well?”

“Ptchh, you should get your facts checked because they weren’t cheering for you. We all know I’m the better singer out of the two of us.” 

Santana crossed her arms and gave Rachel a smirk, knowing who had won this argument. Everyone knew that the sassiness that ran in the Lopez family wasn’t only given to Santana. When it came to that, the two sisters were basically carbon copies of each other.

“That is so out of line! You talk the talk but when it comes to the performance you don’t walk the walk.” Rachel pointed a finger at the younger Lopez sibling and Y/N shot up, her fists balled up in rage. She was about to lounge at Rachel until Mr. Schue walked in.

“What is happening, guys?” 

“Y/N is throwing a spanner in the works of our way to end up on top at regionals.”

Mr. Schue put his bag down onto the piano and eyed the younger girl for a few seconds, silently asking her for an explanation.

Santana rolled her eyes, “Hardiharhar, don’t be so dramatic. Y/N just expressed her displeasure and put her in her place- the lowest of the low in the hierarchy, where she belongs.” She shrugged.

“Santana.” Was all that Mr. Schuester said before turning to Rachel, who pointed to the song written down on the whiteboard. 

“I’ve practiced this song for months and I think regionals is the right moment to finally sing it and show them what I got.” 

He nodded, “Wow, If/Then is a great musical. Are you sure you can handle this song?”

Rachel nodded enthusiastically.

“Very well then!” He turned to the group, “I think we just found our first song for regionals.” He smiled his goofy smile. Mercedes and Kurt looked at each other before rolling their eyes while Quinn sighed and sank into her chair.

Santana furrowed her eyebrows again and shook her head in disbelief, hoping she didn’t just hear him say that.

“Um...hello?” She waved her arms around until Mr. Schue looked at her. “Okay, good! You do see us! For a second I thought you completely forgot about the rest of us existing.”

Mr. Schue sighed and looked down before eyeing his students, “Listen, I know everyone here works very hard, and each of you has an amazing and unique voice, but for now I think that we should just let Rachel sing the solo at regionals. However, that doesn’t mean that I render any of you unworthy of taking the lead another time. You will all get to sing a part in the second song, I promise.”

“How’s that fair? We didn’t even get a chance to tell you what we would like to sing or show you what we got.” Mercedes spoke up.

“Rachel practices every day. She deserves to sing.” Finn shrugged.

“No one asked you, Finn.” Y/N shot at the boy, who widened his eyes in response. “You don’t have a leg to stand on in this discussion, we all know you will probably get the male lead.”

Y/N then turned back to Mr. Schue. “Everyone knows Rachel is your favourite and I’m sick of it. You treat her like she’s the best thing since sliced bread.”

“That’s not true. I don’t do favourites.”

“Yes, you do. You clearly favourite that vest because it’s all you’ve been wearing for the past two weeks.” Santana shrugged.

Mr. Schuester rubbed his temple. Having to deal with not only one, but two Lopez girls was making him age faster. Especially at times when they let their minds run rampant. 

Y/N crossed her arms. “I signed up for Glee club, not for ‘Sing-And-Smile-In-The-Background-Of-The-Rachel-Berry-Show’ club. Half the time, we’re not even on stage during her songs.”

“Wait, does that club exist?” Brittany mumbled under her breath. 

“Guys, when have I ever steered you wrong? Please, trust me on this.” Mr. Schuester placed his hand on his heart. 

“I think you’re just jealous.” Rachel’s tone was challenging as she sat down next to Finn.��

Y/N shot up again.

“Yes, you might know how to sing, but you’ll never be able to leave the audience as impressed as I ever will.” 

Santana now shot up as well.

“Qué acabas de decirme?” (What did you just say to me?)

Both girls made a move to lounge at Rachel but Quinn, Mike and Sam held them back. They struggled to do so while Y/N threw all the Spanish insults she knew at the girl in front of her.

“Enough!” Mr. Schuester tried but his voice didn’t stand out in the chaotic yelling. He sighed before clearing his throat.

“I want you both out.” He directed to the two sisters.

“Now!” 

Everyone fell silent and it seemed to do the trick. Y/N slowly turned to him. Mr. Schue had a stern look on his face while he glared at the siblings. He kept pointing at the door. 

“Fine.” Y/N grabbed her backpack, waited for Santana to dust herself off and grab her belongings too.

“You know what? I could use a break.” Santana huffed as both of them walked out of the room. Their heads held high, no dignity lost over what just happened.

They walked to the football bleachers where Santana immediately lit up a sigaret. 

“Do you think he kicked us out... permanently?” 

It was times like these, when it was only the two of them, where Y/N still depended on her older sister. 

“Maybe.” Santana shrugged her shoulders, “If he can’t appreciate having you in the club then that’s his loss.”

Santana gave Y/N  a playful nudge with her shoulder when the younger Lopez still seemed deep in thought. Y/N looked up to see Santana’s soft smile and she immediately sent her a goofy smile back. 

“They can’t go to regionals without us. And if they do find a way, we’ll just have to start our own Glee club, huh?” She smirked. “I’m sure it won’t take long before Mercedes is sick of it as well.” She comforted her little sister.

“Yeah, but what will we do in the meantime?”

Santana furrowed her eyebrows, wanting Y/N to elaborate.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this- but I actually really like Glee club and I was pretty excited for regionals.”

Santana nodded, “I know you do. I can see it in your eyes when you sing.” She took another drag of her sigaret. “Between you and me, I enjoy singing in Glee club as well.” 

Y/N nodded softly and brought her legs close to her body so she could let her chin rest on her knees. 

“San?” 

Her sister hummed in return.

“Was Rachel right?” She looked up at Santana, “Am I really not giving that good of a performance?” 

“Baby, no.” Santana gave her a stern look, telling her not to go there. “You might’ve only done one couplet by yourself so far... but even in the songs where you sing background vocals, you manage to outshine the rest.”

“But there must be a reason why I haven’t got the chance to lead a song yet.”

“Yup. And that reason is Rachel, dwarf, Berry.” Santana shrugged. “You know I’d tell you if you sucked.”

Y/N laughed at that, Santana so would.

“If Mr. Schue isn’t letting us show him what we got, then we have to come up with another way to get through that head of his how capable you are of leading a song.” 

Santana suddenly stood up, put out her sigaret with her shoe and motioned for Y/N to take her hand.

It was a few days later and neither Santana or Y/N had attended Glee club after what happened on Monday. Rachel had made herself very clear to Y/N that she was very disappointed in her since Y/N’s jealousy caused the club to not be able to partake in regionals. Brittany had tried convince the two girls to join Glee club again with a clumsily, selfmade powerpoint and even Finn had kindly asked them to reconsider going back. But they simply couldn’t, at least not just yet.

But now that it was Friday, everything was ready to go. 

The two Lopez girls decided to wait a few minutes until everyone was present before they walked into the room. Mr. Schue stopped talking and turned around, a disappointed look on his face.

“We’re not here for a pity-party and we’re definitely not walking in with our tails tucked between our legs,” Santana started as a few band members shyly shuffled their way into the room, instruments in hand. 

“We just want to show you that we are fully capable of leading a song.” Y/N spoke as she shoo’d everyone to the side. 

“Hit it.”

[glee performance of tina turner’s ‘river deep, mountain high’, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=82lYMlXB-fI ]

Rachel seemed unsettled during the performance, clearly noticing how everyone else was enjoying the two sisters sing. Mr. Schue, who had seem hesitant at first, was now visibly entertained and impressed and had already long forgotten what happened a few days earlier. Rachel sunk further into her seat when she noticed that. 

Everyone knew the Lopez girls both had beautiful voices, but that they would sound so well together was news to them all. Mr. Schue now realised what a shame it was that he had never explored letting different kids sing together, and that all his attention had always been on the same people.

What topped the performance off, was the excitement in the sisters’ eyes. They were clearly having fun with the song and their minds seemed to have no memory of why they originally decided to perform. It was just them and the music they danced and sang along to.

But when the band played the last melodies, they suddenly seemed to remember and turned back around to the group with proud smirks on their faces.

On the last note, Santana held her hand up for her sister to high five.

Everyone started clapping and Mr. Schuester stood up, walking up to them.  

“Ladies! That was fantastic!” He gave Y/N a pat on her shoulder. “Now that is how you sing a song! Well done!”

Rachel silently clapped along. She would never say out loud how much she had enjoyed their performance.

“I’m sorry, Rachel, but now that I’ve seen this-” Mr. Schue rubbed his chin, “I want to try a different approach at regionals. This is what will get the crowd’s attention!” 

He turned to Rachel, an apologetic look on his face, “Do you mind giving your solo to Santana and Y/N?” 

Rachel shrugged absentmindedly, trying to make it seem like she didn’t care, “It’s healthy to have some competition. It will push me to become a better performer.” 

Mr. Schue nodded and turned back to the Lopez girls. 

“Congratulations, you two. It’s yours!”

Everyone clapped again until Santana spoke up.

“No, no, no. I’m backing out.” 

“W-why?” Confusion was written all over Mr. Schue’s face. “I thought it’s what you two wanted?"

“What I wanted was for you to realise that there are other people capable of leading a performance.” She turned to her sister, who had been confused at Santana’s decision up until now. “People like Y/N, for example. You take it. I know you can do it without me.”

Y/N tried to convince her otherwise, “But you’ve never had a solo either! We should-”

“Uh, uh.” Santana waved her finger, “I want you to take it.” 

The two had a little face off for a few seconds, it was their way of talking to each other without words. Santana cocked her head to the side, knowing Y/N was about to give in.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine.” 

Santana smiled widely, grabbed her sister and planted a kiss on her head.

“I’ll always back you up.” 

She winked at Y/N before the two of them went to sit down, ready for today’s Glee club.

[ghostofstudentspast]

I didn’t plan it

Remus x Reader

Hey guys! This is my first ‘angsty’ piece on here and I was all up in my feels about it so I hope you enjoy 😭💕

You were perched on the edge of the bathtub in your small flat. The flat you shared with your boyfriend Remus. After Lilly and James’ deaths he hadn’t been the same, he was flighty, quick to shut people out and had more trouble controlling his monthly problem.

It had been a long year since that fateful day when the love of your life had lost his best friends. All of his best friends. The only thing he had left was you now. He worked odd jobs tirelessly and so did you, keeping busy and keeping distracted from the pain. He’d wake up in a cold sweat most nights and you’d be there to run a hand through his hair and rub his back until his breathing calmed down and he could fall asleep again.

Back in your school days you had always helped the boys with Remus after a bad change. You had potions and ointments and plenty of chocolate to help him recover from his furry little problem. He would wake up in your dorm room with your head on his heart and somehow things wouldn’t seem so bad anymore.

These days he took on his transformations alone and it took a toll on him. New scars littered his body, often hiding them from you with bulky sweaters. You tried to talk to him, to let him help you like you used to but he had shut out the world.

So here you sat, on the cold rim of the bathtub, staring at the pregnancy test in your hand with tears steaming down your face. It was the third one you’d taken, all with the same little plus sign staring back at you. You loved Remus and you knew you would love this child but you couldn’t tell him. He was fragile enough as it is and you couldn’t add to that with the idea of a baby.

You quickly stuffed the positive test at the bottom of the bin and covered it with some tissues. You looked at yourself in the mirror and bit your lip to stop more tears from escaping. Splashing some water in your face, you collected yourself and got ready to face the day.

You quietly made your way to the kitchen to whip up some breakfast and get ready to go to work. You had been posted in saint Mungo’s as a healer for the past two years now and you needed to be alert for your job.

“Mornin’ Y/N,” Remus appeared at your side and kissed your cheek softly. He was aware of how down he’d been lately and how much of a toll it was taking on you. But he just couldn’t burden you with his anxieties and his pain after a full moon anymore. You had your own pain to deal with and your job was exhausting, he saw it in the bags under your eyes and the way you held yourself these days.

“Morning,” your voice was quiet, less cheerful than usual. Regardless of the situation you were always the sunny one between the two of you. Chipper and warm because you knew that Remus needed a little happiness in his life. “breakfast is on the counter, I have to go.” you muttered and grabbed your bag off the floor and made to step into the fireplace.

“Hey, are you okay?” you felt Remus grip your wrist lightly, tugging you back towards him gently. You turned to face him and refused to meet his gaze. Your eyes were red, your face blotchy, you’d clearly been crying.

“I’m fine Rem, just late,” you kissed his cheek and quickly darted into the floo. With a “Saint Mungos” you disappeared.

Remus felt nauseous, he pushed his eggs around his plate with a frown on his face. We’re you mad at him? Did something happen to you? Why wouldn’t you talk to him? He paced around the kitchen and waved his wand to clean up the dirty dishes. He suddenly became uncomfortably aware of how much he’d been holding back from you lately. How your frequent hugs had turned into hesitant touches. Your loving rambles had become quiet good nights. His hands rubbed his eyes as he realized how he’d shut you out over the past few months.

So caught up in his own grief he hadn’t even realized what he’d been doing to you in the process. Yet you’d stayed by his side. He didn’t understand why. And now he was convinced he was about to lose you.

“Shit,” he swore and slid down the wall to sit on the cold kitchen floor. Tears in his eyes he though about how he’d give anything to ask James for advice right about now. A hug from Lilly. A slap on the back and a snarky comment from Sirius. They weren’t there anymore, he couldn’t change that. But you were still with him, he could still fix that.

Stepping out of the fireplace into your flat you let out a soft sigh and brushed the dust from your work robes. It had been a long day, filled with some of the most draining magic you could perform. On top of that, you still hadn’t had time to process this morning. To your surprise you were greeted by Remus in your small kitchen, food laid out and ready on the table, candles lit and floating around the room. He was holding out a bouquet of flowers to you with a guilty look on his face.

“Remus?” you asked hesitantly as he stepped forward and laid the flowers on the table.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, you could see the tears brimming in his eyes as he ran a hand through his sandy hair in frustration, “I didn’t know, I didn’t realize I was shutting you out. I-I’ve been selfish and I didn’t think you’d want to deal with my problems on top of work and your own grief. I’ve been an idiot and I don’t deserve you. Y/N these last few months have been the worst of my life and you’ve done nothing but be a bright light in the darkness and I took that for granted.” He stepped closer again and gently took your hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. His touches were hesitant, unsure if you would pull away.

“Rem all I wanted was to be there for you. I just wanted to hold your hand and make you tea and hug you when you’re sad. I wanted you to share the burden because it’s both our burdens. The boys were your family and I can’t replace that but I want to support you,” You hiccuped as tears streamed down your face, “you’re right, you were an idiot, but you’re my idiot and I just wanted you to see me.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he choked out and wrapped you up in his arms stroking your hair gently. “I’m sorry baby, I promise I’ll try harder. I’ll share my thoughts with you, I’ll hold you when you’re down, I’ll take care of you this time. You are my family.” at the word baby you lost it again and pulled back shaking your head.

“Rem-“ you whispered through your tears and his heart dropped through the floor. You refused to look him in the eye and couldn’t get out any more words.

“Please, give me another chance,” he begged softly, holding your face in his hands.

“Remus...” you took a deep breath, “I’m pregnant.”

His eyes glazed over as he stared at you in shock, mouth slightly open. You pressed your nails into the palm of your hands, waiting for his reaction as he took his time to process the words that had left your mouth.

“I-it’s mine right?” he asked with wide eyes as his eyes flicked between your belly and your face.

“Yes it’s yours!” you let out and exasperated cry. Your hands wiped your hot tears away as you looked up at the ceiling begging the tears to stop.

“Our baby,” he whispered and engulfed you in a hug again, “our baby!” he cheered as he picked you up and spun you around. You couldn’t help but let out a relieved laugh as you started crying again, happy tears this time.

“You’re not mad?” you asked softly as he put you down again, pulling the both of you onto the soft couch in the living room. He perched you on his lap, gently rubbing your back as you looked at him, concern evident on your features.

“Why would I be mad darling?” he smiled up at you, “I love you.”

“I know but I thought maybe you wouldn’t want...” you trailed off chewing on your lip. A frown seemed permanently etched onto your face, “I thought maybe you didn’t want kids,“ you said softly.

“I’ll admit I didn’t plan on having kids, definitely not so soon. But I look at you and think, if our baby is anything like it’s mother I would be over the moon.” he reassured you, admiring how even when you were worried, sniffling and teary eyed, you were still the most beautiful person he knew, inside and out.

“And what if our baby is like you Rem? What then?” you voiced the unspoken question in both of your minds.

“I will love him or her all the same Y/N, it will just be a little extra work.” he kissed your shoulder and buried his face in your neck, “I know I haven’t been handling the moon too well since...since everything but I know I can be better. I have my potions and I have you...if you still want me.” he looked up at you tentatively.

“Of course I do, you silly man,” you shook your head with a smile and leaned down to press your lips to his. The kiss was sweet, pouring all of your love into it. A hand on each cheek, he held you as if he was afraid you might slip away.

“We’re in it together from now on I promise.” He said once you broke apart.

“You better keep that promise Mr. Lupin.” you smiled and curled up against him, listening to his heart beat.

And keep his promise he did, with the help of his wolfsbane potion the transformations were easier. With you by his side stroking his fur it wasn’t so bad at all. And when things got out of hand you were always there to feed him chocolate the day after, apply ointments and supply him with plenty of cuddles. When you were down or had a bad day at work Remus was there with a home cooked meal or a back rub or a gentle stream of whispered reassurances.

It wasn’t easy, you still had bad days but you communicated and let each other in. Around the moon Remus would get very protective of you and your now protruding belly. He’d refuse to let you do any house work, bring you treats in bed and pepper your tummy with kisses. He’d often talk to the baby in the mornings, singing his favourite songs under his breath.

When your baby boy was born you cried because he looked exactly like his father. Remus cried because he smiled exactly the way you did. You were happy, undoubtedly so. And Remus told stories about his time at Hogwarts and how his friends would have adored your little boy. Little James Lupin would never doubt that he was loved equally by his parents.

[onlymexsarah]

Imperfections (R.L)

Remus Lupin x UW!Reader (Under weight)

I read a lot of imagines with plus size readers, and i think it's something beautiful, but instead I've never read about a under weight reader, insecure of herself and her body, so here I am, with a Remus Lupin ready to cheer you up.

Prompts: “I wish you could see yourself with my eyes. So you would understand that I’m in love with you, all of you.”

Gif is mine🍃

P.s.: English is not my first language, please if you notice some mistakes let me now🥰

Also, I’m not used to write one-shots, I’m writing a book rn, this is a new experience, but I hope you like it🥺

Transfiguration, you had to study for your Transfiguration lesson. You couldn't let McGonagall find you unprepared, so you would stay in the library one more hour while your schoolmates eat their lunch, beside you weren't hungry at all.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" Asked your boyfriend standing up and looking you with hopeful eyes. Remus Lupin was the best boyfriend someone could ask for; he was clever, funny, cute and with always something to comfort you in your bad days. You haven't exactly his mind, due the fact that you always forget something about homework, lessons or Prefect's meetings; and didn't care how much time you forgot things, he would always reminder you them.

"Don't worry Rems, I'll catch you up later. Just need one more minute." You said smiling standing up to give him a soft kiss on his lips. True must be told, he didn't know that you forgot sometime to eat too, but it wasn't a big deal for you, it was a normal routine not eating to save time for studying or sleeping.

"I'll see you there, love." He smiled giving you a kiss more intense than the first one, and then you were alone looking the book in front of you studying until the last line.

An hour passed before you brought yourself in the Great Hall ready to eat. You saw Remus in the corner of your eyes waiting for you with the Marauders, but that day you weren't so hungry, and you knew that Remus would be worried for you, so you decide to sit with your housemate instead to not let Remus see your almost empty plate.

The chicken was delicious, you wanted so badly to eat more about it, but you were done with one piece, so you stand up ready to go towards your boyfriend. You didn't know what you must had done to deserve him in your life, to deserve his love. Not only he was the perfect gentleman, but he was extremely attractive, and all the girls in the school knew you picked the perfect mix that someone could find in a boy.

"You alright? You didn't seat with us." Remus whispered to you when you reached each other out of the Great Hall.

"Yes, don't worry. I had to tell Snape a thing about Potion. We are partners now." You rolled your eyes thinking about Slughorn and his idea to put you with Snape instead with Remus. 

You wanted nothing more than cuddle in Remus’ arms, those arms that made you feel protected, loved and safe. You wanted to lay with him, kiss his scars and telling him how beautiful he was, you wanted to make him see himself in the same way you saw him, because you knew how it felt avoiding the mirrors afraid of what you might see, or looking your body and see nothing else but imperfections. 

So now you two were on his bed, your face on his torso with his arm around you and the other hand in your hairs, listening his heartbeat like you would listen your favourite song. The other three Marauders left you alone, going around the school pranking people, and you were fine with it as long as you two had time for yourselves. 

“How about Christmas’ holiday? My mum are cooking turkey, with her special recipe.” said Remus looking the ceiling of his canopied roof.

“I’m not going to meet your parents. Not yet, I promised my father I will be with him this Christmas.” you tried to sound convincing, but the idea of meeting Mr and Mrs Lupin terrifided you. Not because you were afraid of them, but you were scared of the idea about them thinking you were not enough for their son.

“Why not?! My mum can’t wait to cry with you during one of your favourite films!” he said laughing. 

You looked the boy under you astonished. “You-you told your mum that? Remus Lupin I’m going to kill you!”

You started to tickle him under his armpits, making him wriggling under you. You were sure that the boys in the next dorms could hear you two laugh, but you didn’t care because seeing Remus laughing was the best thing you’ve ever seen in your life. 

You got distracted for a second, a tiny little second that Remus took as an opportunity, so he reversed your positions, finding yourself between the bed and him. With his hands he grabbed your wrists pulling them on the pillow still laughing. 

“You have nothing to worry about, love.” he whispered before kissing you. You smiled in the kiss, feeling the butterflies in your stomach as you were used with him. He interview your right hand with his, letting go the other that you brough in his hairs keeping him close to you. 

Your hands seemed to be made to fit together, his big one was holding your petite one still on the pillow while the kiss got more intense. With his free hand started caressing your hips, gently as a true gentleman, but it was enough to make you lose your mind. You wanted to go on, you wanted him badly, but when his hand fell on your hip bone, you froze. He was leaving little kiss on your neck, thing that would make you crazy few moments ago, but now the only thing you could focus on was his hand touching one of the part of your body where the bones could be feel more. You blocked him, almost brutally, shifting away from under his weight and putting your shoes on ready to go away. 

“Y/N what happened? Did I do something...?” he asked afraid to have done something wrong toward her, feeling his ears burn. 

“No, no. You didn’t do anything wrong.” you said trying to not let your voice break. “I’ve just remebered I have an essay for tomorrow.”

You ran out of his common room, without looking the Marauders that teased you about your time alone with Remus, and when you were alone in the hallway you stopped sitting on the stones floor. Why you had to be so stupid? You were almost there, you were almost done with your insecurities, and it was enough a touch on your hips to make you panicking. You knew that Remus loved you because your intelligence, behaviour and other things you still had to find out, but you also knew that once he will see your body, he will understand that he could have someone better. Someone who is not you. 

You seemed a child, and you still acted in that way the days later, when you avoided him in all ways. You sit at your table with your fellows, sitting with your friends (who were not the Marauders) during lessons and sneaking away before he could pull all his things in his bag. 

Were you on the wrong side? Yes. Were you a coward? Also yes. Could you stop it? No. Your body was the problem that you had since years, and it wasn’t Remus’ fault if he didn’t know nothing, you just didn’t open up with him yet.

So now you were in the Owlery, cuddling your and Remus’ owls like you were used to do every week. You heard a noise in the stairs, but it could be some student you thought, so you kept feeding Remus’ owl.

“So you’re alive!” you froze without glacing back at the boy. “Hardly to tell since we haven’t see you for days.” James Potter could be the funniest guy  of the school, but if you hurt his friends he would make sure that you pay for it, and so you didn’t know what to do; never James had spoken to you with such venom in his voice. 

“Now you see me.” you walked toward the door ready to go away from him, but he stopped you with his voice.

“You know, I told him so!” you looked him confused. “I told him to break up with you a week ago, and you know what he said? He agreed with me.” your eyes bacame wet, trying to not cry in front of him as a child. “He wants to start a new chapter of his life, but he can’t do it if you two don’t break up. Take a move, alright? I don’t want to see him with someone like you. Someone who clearly doesn’t care about him. Who-”

“Prongs! What is happeing here?” Sirius arrived with Peter interrupting James who was burning you with his eyes, if his voice wasn’t already enough.

“Y/N are you fine?” asked Peter worried to see you like that for the first time. You were the stronger one, the girl who never cry, but in front of him, right now, there was a girl...broken.

“Yes, she’s fine. We had just had a talk, she was leaving.” said James without looking away from you. It was clear that he didn’t want to see you again, and you didn’t dare to look at Sirius because you were sure that you would finde the same look in his eyes. Instead you gave a weak smile to Peter, the only one who seemed worried for you, and then you leave wiping away the few tears that fell on your cheeks.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Remus would never dream to leave her, and surely you would never say something like that to him! You care too much about her too to hate her.” Sirius said angrily to his mate while the curly boy was sending a owl that Peter guessed was for Lily.

“We know her, it was the only way to make Y/N take a move. I bet that she is going to speak with Remus right now.” he smirked pleased with himself.

“I can’t decide if you are extremely stupid or a genius.” said Peter running a hand through his hair. 

“We’ll see, Peter, we’ll see.” 

***

James was right, you wanted to speak with Remus, if it was true that he wanted to break up, then you would give him the opportunity, even if the thought broke your heart. When you passed in front of the Great Hall you stopped confused seeing everyone inside, and looking your wrist watch you saw that it was dinner time. This meant that the Astronomy Tower was free, so you walked toward it forgetting about the dinner and hoping that you could spend a night alone with the stars. 

You were sit with your back leaning against the wall, looking the sky, when the door opened and Remus were relief to see you there. “Knew you weere here.” You glaced at him quickly, surprised to hear his voice as soft as you remembered. Wasn’t he angry with you? So why he was there, with a plate full of food in front of you with his kind smile. “I saw you didn’t eat anything tonight, so I brought you something.” he rubbed his neck with his free hand turning in a soft shape of pink that you couldn’t notice due the weak light of the moon. 

“Yeah, I’m not really hungry. But...thanks.” you gave him a soft smile moving uncomfortable in your position. Should you start to speak? Should you wait him to take the first move? You were on the wrong side, you had to speak first, so when he sat beside you shyly, you took a deep breath. “I know why you’re here...and I’m really sorry.” your voice cracked and you looked away. “I’m so sorry, Remus. H-he told me you were thinking about that since a week and it’s fine...” no it wasn’t. “I understand why you want to break up with me. I’m just sorry for how I was toward you these days, I wasn’t angry with you, I swear...” You wiped away the tears with your hands trying to compose yourself. You were not going to cry in front of him, you had no right to cry.

“WHAT? Who told you- Me breaking with- what are you talking about?” he asked astonished looking your confused face.

“James told me you are thinking about breaking up with me since a week...” you said uncertain. 

“Such a dickhead! I can’t believe he told you so, he saw me crying thinking about that YOU wanted breaking up with me!” he moved his hands in the air and you looked him astonished. He hadn’t realized what he said until his eyes met yours. “Well, I wasn’t literally crying... just you know, the full moon is in three days and I get a bit too emotional.” you looked him amused while he tried to find an excuse making you laugh. “it could have been few drops of water, it was hot so I was sweating too.” 

“Oh yeah sure. Few drops of water, yes.” you giggled looking him finding his beautiful smile while his eyes were on you. You had to tell him, you own him. “I have to tell you something, I know I have been awfull toward you, and it’s not your fault. Blimey Remus, I could never think a life without you, not say breaking up with you.”

He left a breath of reliefe keeping listening you carefully. “That night...did I put pressure on you? You didn’t want to...” he blushed without finishing his sentece.

“No, no, no. I want you! I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud, but you have no idea about the thoughts that I have when we are together.” You looked away shyly; taking a deep breath you stood up torturing your hands. “I don’t eat, and it took me to be under weight. The healers say I have to do more meals during the day but I can’t! I-”

He stood up, getting closer to you and wiping away the tears that were falling from your eyes. He wanted hug you so much, but he knew he had to leave you let out everything you kept for yourself for years.

“You know how forgetful I am, and with all the things that happen in a day I forget that I must eat, beacuse I’m never so hungry to notice it. This is why sometime I didn’t sit with you, because I didn’t want to let you see how little I ate...” you were looking down, ashamed by how you were.

He took your hands in his owns. “I know.”

Your eyes shifted on his face suddenly confused, did he know? “What?”

“Honestly, what kind of boyfriend i would be if I don’t notice that my girlfriend eats less than everyone else, or that she doesn’t eat at all? I kinda know how to recognize when someone has a secret.” he shrugged innocently. “But I’ve never said anything because I know you, and I know that you would tell me when you would be ready. I still don’t get the problem, though...”

How he could not see the problem?  “The problem is, that everyone think if you are thin then you have a perfect body. Well it’s not! I have not a perfect body, actually I hate it! With all the clotes on it seem that my body is ‘normal’ for the standard of the people, but without them...” you felt a strange anger inside you, anger toward the people that never cared about your feeling just because you were ‘thin’, without thinking that you could have not like your body. “Without them it’s full of imperfection! But of course, I’m thin so I must be happy, right? I am not, because be thin is not cool. People think that when you are thin you have no problems, I don’t know the others, but surely not when you are as thin as me.” 

You had walked away from him, too angry to stay still, and now you were taking deep breaths trying to calm down. Remus came in front of you slowly, understanding your all point. “Are you really talking abour imperfection with someone who has scars on all his body?” 

“You know that I love your scars.” you rolled your eyes looking everyshere but him and wiping away the last tears.

“And I love you. Again, I don’t see the problem.” his smile made you ask if you spoke english or not, the problem was evident.

“You are used to see me like that; clotes, make up, with my awesome personality and intelligence.” you joked a little. “But I don’t know if you will still love me if I show you everything. I mean, I don’t love me too, so why should you do it?” 

He felt sad suddenly, it hurted him see you like that; see you full of insecurities like him. For him, you were the most beautiful girl in the world, didn’t matter how much imperfections you had. “ I wish you could see yourself with my eyes. So you would understand that I’m in love with you, all of you. I don’t care about some imperfections, those are the things that make me understamd how much you are perfect to me.” 

“I love you too.” You whispered back, without knowing what to say. 

He kissed you softly, caressing your cheek with one hand and wrapping the other around you. You brought your hands behind his neck smiling, you have been such a idiot, avoiding him for days have been the most difficult thing to do; you needed him like the air. “And then, I’m curious about those thounghts of yours.”

He joked keeping his forehead resting on yours, and you blushed a little. “Sure, but now I’m hungry.” you took his tie pulling him down again to kiss him, knowing that he will always love you as you are. 

[naruto-ichigo-soul-kyobabe]

Ateez’s reaction to you fangirling over an idol that’s not them

Hongjoong: 

He arrived to your shared apartment after a long day of work and wanted nothing more than to cuddle with you and relax. But when he entered the apartment he found you dancing around the living room while watching Wonho’s new song “Open Mind” on the TV. You finally noticed him as the song was ending and paused the video. 

“Hi baby! How was your day?” You asked excitedly. 

“Tiring. How about yours?” He asked while embracing you. 

“It was so good! I have been streaming Wonho’s song all day! He’s so talented and handsome! Don’t you think?” You asked happily. “I love how sensual he can when performing but then he’s just a big baby in real life!” 

He knew you loved him, but he was very jealous hearing you fan girl over an idol that wasn’t him. 

“Ahhh, I wish I could marry him!” You said sighing sweetly. 

“What about me?” Hongjoong pouted. “You don’t want to marry me?” 

You looked at him shocked. “What? Who said I don’t wanna marry you? You’re my loving boyfriend. I would be blessed if I married you.” 

“Well, you sure aren’t acting that way.” He said crossing his arms over his chest. 

You giggled and rolled yours eyes. “Baby, I love you. You’re my boyfriend. Wonho is an idol, yes I love him, but not like I love you.” You kissed his cheek. 

“You better love me more than him.” 

You laughed. “Of course I love my jealous boyfriend more than.” 

“Good.” He said laughing before kissing you tenderly. “You ever try and leave me for Wonho and I’ll quit being an idol and go live under a bridge.” 

“Okay Mr. dramatic, I would never leave you for anyone else. I love you too much.” 

He was satisfied, but he still felt jealous anytime you talked about Wonho after. 

Seonghwa: 

You were watching Taemin’s stage performance for Criminal and didn’t realize Seonghwa had entered your bedroom. You were watching the video intently and you started squealing when Taemin was dancing while his hands were tied. 

“Waaaah~ Taemin you’re so cool!!” You squealed. “Ahh the only man for me!” 

“Then what am I?” Seonghwa said while giving you a disgusted face. 

“My boyfriend of course.” You said without looking at him. “Come watch Taemin with me. Gosh, this man is so talented isn’t he? His concepts are so good! And he’s so handsome and his voice is just... ahhh!” 

Seonghwa sat next to you and watched Taemin. He did like him, but he glared at the video the entire time, not liking that you were acting like this towards Taemin and not him; your boyfriend. 

“Uuuuu Taemin-ah, I love you!” You said closing your eyes while resting your hand on your heart. “I could die happily if I met you.” 

“Do you love me or Taemin more?” Seonghwa asked pouting. 

You looked at him confused. “What? Of course you.” 

“You’re paying more attention to Taemin.. so I don’t know about that.” 

“Haha, babe, I love Taemin, but he’s just one of my idols. You’re my boyfriend, so no one could ever come before you.” You said caressing his cheek. “You’re my one and only.” 

He smiled and put his hand over yours. “Sorry, I was just feeling jealous. But I’m happy to hear that.” 

“I love you, Seonghwa and I always will.” 

“Me too. I love you, y/n.” He leaned towards you and gave you a sweet kiss. 

Yunho: 

You had been ignoring Yunho all day, you didn’t do it intentionally, but you were busy streaming Stray Kids new single, Back Door. You were either internally watching it and fangirling over everyone or you were dancing and trying to learn the choreography. 

“Oh my God! Yunho, look, isn’t Seungmin just the cutest thing ever?” You cried. “He looks so good here!! And his vocals!  Yes king, get it!” 

You even got your light stick out and started waving it around while praising the members. 

Yunho was happy to see you having fun, but he was low key jealous. Since he knew the members of stray kids, he was worried you might meet them and actually leave him for Seungmin, if you had the chance. 

“Y/n, would you rather date me or Seungmin?” Yunho asked letting these thoughts get to him. 

You stopped dancing and turned around to face him slowly. “Aha, what?” 

“Me or Seungmin.. who would you rather date?” He asked quietly. 

“I’m already dating you.. and I don’t want to date any who isn’t you.” You said going over to sit next to him on the couch. “Why would you ask me that?” 

“You seemed like you like Seungmin more..” 

You laughed and squished his cheeks. “Silly, I like you the most. I do have a soft spot for Seungmin, but that’s because he’s like a puppy and it melts me heart.” You smiled at him. “But you’re my favourite puppy.” 

You smiled warmly at you and looked away shyly. “Aha, really? That makes me happy,” 

You kissed him lovingly. “I will always choose you, so don’t feel jealous, okay?”

He nodded and then the two of you enjoyed jamming out to Back Door together. 

Yeosang: 

You were watching Yuta’s Kick It fancams in the living room. You were admiring his dance moves as well as his facial expressions. 

“My God, he could kick me any day,” you said quietly to yourself. 

“What?” Yeosang said looking at you with such a judgmental face. 

“Oh. You heard that?” You asked laughing. 

“Why does my girlfriend wish to be kicked by another man?” 

“Because he so hot.” You said shrugging and going back to the video. 

“Should I kick you then?” Yeosang said nudging your side with his foot. 

“Yah, stop that.” You said pushing his leg away. 

“Why? I thought you wanted hot guys to kick you.” He said doing it again. 

“Baaaabe, stop it.” You whined. “You are hot, but I don’t actually wanna be kicked. It’s just something us fans say.” 

“Oh, but you think I’m hotter? Or Yuta?” 

“You of course.” You said turning off the video and smiling at him. “You’re my super hot boyfriend that I am so lucky to have.” 

“Oho, you deserve a reward for picking the right answer.” He said crawling over to you. He hovered over you and started to kiss you slowly and sweetly. But it soon turned steamy with the kisses making you forget all about Yuta, just like Yeosang planned. 

San: 

San walked into the living room and saw you staring at your phone, you smile getting bigger as you stared at whatever you were. He was curious what could make you smile like that and it had better be him. He walked behind you and saw you watching a Yeonjun cute moments compilation on YouTube. He frowned when he saw that you were giving your attention to another boy; was he not good enough. 

He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, which startled you, causing you to drop your phone. 

“Ah! Oh, San it’s you.” You said clutching your chest. “Almost gave me heart attack there.” 

“Y/n, do you not love me anymore?” 

“What are you talking about?” You said looking at him confused. 

“First you’re watching videos of Yeonjun and not me. Then you go and call me by my name and not baby.” He pouted. 

“Wha-? Of course I love you, baby. I was watching Yeonjun videos because their comeback is coming soon. Just getting hyped for it.” You said caressing his cheek. “I watch your videos all the time. Especially when you’re busy and can’t be with me as often.” 

“So you love me the most, right?” He said hugging you tighter. 

“Of course! You’re number one in my heart. Honestly, no one even comes close.” You boasted. 

“I thought so. I mean look at me; I’m the complete package.” He said as he crawled over the back of the couch to sit next to you. He placed an arm around you and pulled you close. “I’ll have to tell Yeonjun next time I see him to back off.” 

“Yeonjun doesn’t even know me!” You said laughing. 

“I’m not taking any chances.” He said making a mental note to never ever let you meet Yeonjun. “You’re going to have the last name Choi some day and it will be because of me and not him.” 

You were lost for words after hearing him say that but then you started laughing. “You’re the only Choi for me.” 

Mingi: 

You had been having a bad week and whenever you were feeling low like that, you would listen to music to ignore the world, more specifically you would listen to Agust D. You just liked how raw Yoongi’s emotions were on his mixtape and the lyrics always resonated with you. 

“Ugh, I can’t believe a man like Min Yoongi exists.” You said to yourself not realizing Mingi had walked into the bedroom. “No one does it like him.” 

“No one..?” Mingi asked. You opened your eyes to see him giving you the “🥺” eyes. You nearly started sobbing because he was so cute when he did that and it also hurt your heart when he did that; you never meant to hurt his feelings. 

“You like Yoongi’s raps more than mine?” Mingi asked pouting. “You think he’s more talented than me?” 

“Whaaaa! No, baby! That’s not what I meant!” You said rushing over to him and hugging him. “Yes I like Yoongi’s rapping and I think he’s talented, but so are you!! Like you’re crazy talented! Extremely talented! The first time I heard you rap I was instantly in love with you; no lie.” 

“Really? I had that power over you?” He asked smiling as he embraced. “So you would choose me over Yoongi if you have the choice between the two of us?” 

“Of course, baby. I would choose you in a heartbeat. No thinking necessary. You have my heart.” You said looking up at him. “I am extremely proud of you. You are so so talented and I wake up every day wondering how I managed to get a boyfriend like you.” 

He blushed at your words. “No, I’m the one who should be wondering how I got so lucky to have someone like you.” He bent down to kiss you. “I’m glad to know I’m your favourite rapper.. I better be your favourite rapper after what you said.” 

You started laughing. “Of course you are! Yoongi used to be my favourite rapper but then you came into my life and took over that spot.” 

“Good.” He said smiling happily before spinning you around. “I’m y/n’s favourite, you got that Min Yoongi!” 

Wooyoung: 

You and Wooyoung were relaxing in bed together, both of you preoccupied on your phones, but enjoying each other’s presence. 

“Oh my god,” You whispered. “You are the most adorable and precious angel on this earth.” 

“Thanks I know I am.” Wooyoung said. 

“Not you,” you said rolling your eyes and showing him what you were looking at. “I’m talking about the precious angel, Liu YangYang! Look at him! So cute! So adorable! I think I am in love.” 

“Ya! How could you say that right in front of me? Your boyfriend!” Wooyoung pouted as he grabbed your phone from you. He looked at YangYang for a moment before placing your phone down. 

“Okay I will admit he’s cute.” 

“The cutest.” You said teasing him. 

“Yeah, sure whatever. He may be cute, but you know who else is cute? Me.” He said. “And not only am I cute, but I am extremely sexy. No one can do cute and sexy like I can.” 

He wrapped his arms around you pulling you closer. He smirked at you before he started to kiss your neck. 

You blushed at his sudden actions. “I-I was just saying how cute YangYang was.. didn’t mean to make you jealous.” 

“Well too late, babe. I’m about to show you how lucky you are to have me, Jung Wooyoung, as your boyfriend.” He said before he started to kiss you passionately. 

You made a mental note to never fangirl about other idols in front of him. 

Jongho: 

“Oh. My. God.” You said suddenly while you and Jongho were eating dinner. 

“Babe, it’s not polite to look at your phone when we’re having dinner together.” 

“But, baby, I got a Twitter notification from Monsta X!” You said excitedly. “They’re gonna have a comeback soon!” 

“What!? Seriously? When?” Jongho asked getting up to look at the tweet with you. 

“I don’t know yet.. people are saying in a month or so though!” You said putting your phone down. “I cannot wait to see what they’ll release.. I can’t wait to hear Kiki’s vocals.. he’s so talented and so handsome!” 

Jongho sat back down. “I couldn’t agree with you more! His vocals aren’t talked about enough.” 

“Oh my god, I know right? He’s such an underrated member for some reason!” 

“I need to tell Atiny to support Monsta X’s comeback with me.” Jongho mumbled to himself. 

“You totally should babe. You’re the 4th gen’s best vocalist.. whoever you say is talented and worth a listen is definitely worth a listen.” You stated. 

He smiled at you shyly. “Thank you.” 

The rest of the night you and Jongho fangirled over Monsta X together. 

[444piscesprincess]

childhood friends to lovers/growing up together sterek fic reclist

uhh this kinda got a lil angsty but i recommend you pick a growing up together fic and listen to this song i promise you will not regret it 

https://open.spotify.com/track/5Dz8nrwQlPLE68WaTEIqY5?si=aogjMc1aToSALmAlfQOR7A 

anyways as usual check tags please!!

(click on the title for the fic)

you know you're on my mind

bibliosexual

Summary:

If there’s one thing Derek’s learned in life, it’s that crushing on someone who lives on an entire other fucking continent is probably a bad idea.

(hs!au + texting!au + childhood friends to lovers the ULTIMATE fluff fic)

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)   (series)

yodasyoyo

Summary:

Stiles is six years old when he first hears Derek's voice in his head.

Or what happens if you have a soulmate bond, in a universe where soulmate bonds don't exist?

Up Down Lock Unlock

isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

Summary:

“Why are you going into grandma Ito’s apartment?” he asked.

Derek turned to him, key sliding into the lock. “What do you mean?” He tried to turn it, but the key wasn’t budging. Maybe the lock was sticking again, it’d been doing that the past few days.

Stiles was staring at him like Derek was stupid.

Derek did not appreciate sass from a ten year old.

“That’s grandma Ito’s place.”

“No,” Derek said calmly, pulling the key out and then shoving it back in, wiggling it a little when it continued to refuse to unlock the door. “This is my place.”

“I think you’re on the wrong floor then, because that apartment belongs to grandma Ito.”

(time travel counts as childhood friends right?)

the difference between going back and going home

thepsychicclam

Summary:

Stiles and Derek were inseparable growing up, but then college, jobs, and life happened. When Stiles comes back to Beacon Hills a decade later, he doesn't expect to reconnect with Derek, and he sure doesn't expect to fall in love with him.

It's Such a Gas When You Bring Up the Past

orphan_account

Summary:

Stiles finds a box of old photo albums that dredge up the sweet, the funny, the adorable, and the mildly heartwrenching parts of his and Derek's past.

(mainly a friends fic but its too cute to not include)

It's Always Been You

charlesdk

Summary:

Stiles' love life was practically non-existing, always had been. He was always terrible at picking up clues when people hit on him (it had happened, Erica had been witness to it and had been the one to let him know it was happening in the first place) because he never expected anyone to do so.

He wasn't the most desirable guy around, he knew that. He was loud, extremely nerdy, never knew when to stop talking, not exactly much of a looker if you asked him, the list was endless.

Point was, he never did know when someone was flirting with him. Which was probably how he ended up in the fight that would change his life for the better.

Lead You Home Again

GotTheSilver

Summary:

The first time Derek meets Stiles, the kid’s brown eyes are wide, and he’s staring up at him with a mischievous grin as he tugs at the arm of Derek’s first ever Batman figure like he’s trying to separate it from Batman’s body.

An alternate take on Teen Wolf, wherein Stiles and Derek are childhood friends, and things unfold from there.

Kingdom By The Sea

kilaem

Summary:

Lydia grabs his arm and pulls him down in the seat next to her. “When the hell did you find time to bag a guy like Hale?”

“We’re friends,” Stiles feels his face heat up, and then the team are running out and Derek sees him and smiles. His blush gets worse.

“Oh really?”

“Our moms were friends, okay? We’ve been in diapers together.”

“I thought you two hated each other.”

Those That Bump In The Night

bleep0bleep

Summary:

A boy’s head appears upside down, hanging off the bed. “Is anyone there?” he calls out curiously, looking right at Derek’s eyes. Caught, then. The protocol for being deliberately seen by a child is just to look as strange and fearsome as possible. No one would believe them, anyways. But Derek is tired, and he’s been running and scared, and now he just kind of flickers, curling out a tendril of dark smoke, hoping that he’s a little bit scary. No such luck. The boy’s eyes widen. “Oooh, are you the bogeyman?” “Bogeyperson,” Derek says, before he can help himself.

~

When Stiles was a boy, he had an imaginary friend named Derek. Ten years later, Derek comes back, and is very, very real.

Five Times Derek and Stiles Kissed For Practice (And One Time They Didn't)

mikkimouse

Summary:

In which Derek and Stiles grow up together and practice kissing, roughly in that order.

216 + 1: Words To Say Instead of I Love You

briggs

Summary:

Derek and Stiles have been best friends for fourteen years. They have their differences, sure, but it's never been a question for them. Their friendship has been the most solid thing in their lives -- until suddenly it isn't anymore.

Funny how just a few choice words can throw fourteen years of friendship off-balance.

OR

a collection of "Bro, That's Gay" one-shots that actually ended up turning into a concrete storyline.

hope is the thing with feathers (part of a series)

ShanaStoryteller

Summary:

Stiles is ten when he saves the Hales from their burning home and Derek from a wolfsbane bullet, and this establishes a pattern that seem to continue indefinitely.

"Then he's facing a burning home, and he wraps the hood of his sweatshirt around his mouth before he pushes the door open and steps inside. There's Mr. Hale asleep - he hopes asleep - on the couch, next to - Stiles thinks that's his brother but there are so many Hales, who can keep track. He rushes over and starts shaking him, can see the rise and fall of the man's chest so he knows he's alive, but he's not waking up. He shoves away his hood so he can shout, "Mr. Hale! You have to get up, there's a fire! Mr. Hale, get up!" Nothing, he's not even twitching, both of them taking in deep even breaths like they're having the most peaceful of rests, and Stiles is going to cry. "Wake up, wake up, wake up!" There's a moment, where all Stiles can hear is the blood rushing in his ears and not the roar of the flames or the creak of wood, then with a violent, silent pop it's all back and both of the men are gasping awake, eyes open and jumping to their feet. "

(one of my favourite fics like EVER)

it came from the trees

whatshouldntbe

Summary:

“Don’t worry, Scott caught me up on everything,” Kira assures with a bubbly smile via video-chat. “You and Derek, huh? I probably should have seen that coming. I always thought it might be Cora, but Derek was the one that looked at you how I used to look at you.”

Stiles goes a little pink. “It’s still kinda new but, yeah. I really like him. He’s...” Beautiful. Patient. Smart. Painfully honest. Sweet.“...a total dork.”

Kira laughs and laughs. When she gets herself together, she replies, “Yeah, those little hearts and stars in your eyes definitely say different."

or

Stiles moves from the shiny, fast-paced lifestyle of Los Angeles to the foggy, sleepy town of Beacon Hills so his dad can become the new sheriff. Newly fifteen, he does his best to finish out his freshman year of high school (by staying under the radar) when he suddenly becomes the Beyoncé of the Supernatural community. And, without much prompting on his part, he ends up catching the eye of one of the most prominent Werewolf families in all of North America. It literally all starts with a stuffed animal(s).

(oh god this fic is the literal best even though its abandoned it ends at okay-ish place. this is one of the best hale family characterisations ive ever read. if you squint it can be a childhood friends to lovers fic but im including it anyway bc its amazing)

Promises aren't Meant to be Broken

paradis

Summary:

“Thanks for saving me,” Stiles blurts out, staring up at Laura, wide eyed.

Laura grins. “I like you,” she says, “we’ll be friends.”

(more laura and stiles besties centric but totally worth a read)

The Things We See

MelodramaticSalad

Summary:

Stiles grew up in the life of knowing that there was always more to life than what others saw with a first glance. Even as a child he saw things that no one else seemed to and always had a fascination with the unusual.

Some considered him an unusual child, but Claudia welcomed every single quirk her son displayed. His mother had a few special talents of her own and thrilled her to see it in her son as well. She'd raised Stiles to always keep his mind open and as grew and started to display his powers, she began to teach him how to use them. She even taught Stiles about werewolves at a young age, his infatuation with them growing once he had learned the truth about her closest friend.

Stiles spent nearly every possible moment that he could roaming the Hale house, following after the middle child most of the time. Derek was three years older than Stiles, but the bond they developed with each other was something their mothers considered out of a story book. Like Derek, Stiles was sensitive to his emotions, but unlike Derek, Stiles didn't need a scent to figure it out. He could feel it.

take me back

matildajones

Summary:

“I dare you to kiss me,” Stiles taunts, and he’s not expecting the way Derek says a naughty word under his breath and then leans forward.

Stiles yelps. He just dodges Derek’s mouth before he’s laughing wildly and running through the trees, calling out a series of ew ew ew as Derek chases him back home.

[magniloquent-raven]

for fluff: "one more chapter" or "there's enough room for both of us"

it’s been 84 years............ but here u go lmao tysm for the prompts!!!!!! i used both!

CW for some brief suicidal ideation, just in case. it’s v mild but pls be careful yall (i know, this fic was supposed to be fluffy 😅)

posted on ao3

------

Billy’s life had changed a lot in the past two years. 

So much that some days he barely recognizes himself in the mirror. The scars, the state of his hair—which he hasn’t cut since last summer and generally just throws back for convenience’ sake—the stubble he doesn’t bother with most days. Small things, in the grander scheme of what’s different about his life, but it adds up.

And it’s Friday night, he’s curled up at home, and perfectly content to be there. 

There’s a steaming mug of cider on the coffee table (a scratched-up old thing that Hop left him when he officially handed off ownership of his trailer to Billy), and wind rattling the windows, and Max is asleep in the next room. It’s...cozy. 

El stopped by earlier that afternoon, Max in tow, demanding Billy let them stay because Mike was being a dick or a DnD campaign was going on too long and El’s character died a while back so she was bored, or...something. Possibly Mike was being a dick about her character being dead. Max kept chiming in with her own two cents worth but it really just made the whole thing harder to follow.

But it didn’t really matter why they stopped by, they’re always coming up with reasons to invade his living room and eat all his food and nag him about teaching them how to do fancy braids. And Max usually wanders off to nap in his room when El starts asking Billy to read to her.

Which is what he’s doing now. 

Last month he read her Jane Eyre (her idea). A week ago they started The Hobbit. 

It’s been slow going, considering how often El interrupts to ask questions, and every time there’s a song they have the same argument about him not actually singing, but they’re making progress. 

He’s reading through the weird goblin song as monotone as possible just so he can laugh at El’s disgruntled scrunchy face, and putting up with her poking his thigh with her toes when he rolls his eyes at her, and honestly having the time of his fucking life, because, yeah, saying things have changed in the past two years is the understatement of the decade.

When he gets to the end of Over Hill and Under Hill and closes the book she gasps dramatically, sitting up and pulling the ugly orange throw blanket (gift from Mrs. Byers) she’d been snuggled up in tighter around her shoulders.

“Billy, no!” 

He drops the book in his lap and raises his eyebrows at her. “It’s the end of the chapter.”

“No.”

“Yeah, it definitely is.”

El frowns at him, her whole face going pinched. “But you can’t stop there.”

It’s moments like this that almost make Billy forget she can kill people with her brain. Moments when she just looks like a kid, all wrapped up in her favourite blanket and pouting. 

And it’s like she knows that’s his goddamn kryptonite. Because those moments also remind him that she deserves this. More than anyone he knows, she deserves all the childish crap she wants, and more. It won’t ever replace the childhood that was taken from her, but it’s a start.

So, needless to say, Billy has a hard time saying no to her.

He drops his head back against the cushion behind him, staring at the ceiling for a moment—pretending to contemplate, while she glowers at him—and sighs loudly. 

“One more chapter.” 

She beams.

They’re only a few pages into Riddles in the Dark when a car pulls up, and Billy doesn’t even have time to put the book down before the front door bursts open. 

“El! Will thought he—is that The Hobbit?” Dustin comes to an abrupt halt two paces into the room, blinking at the book in Billy’s hands. All his little friends nearly collide with his back, and there’s suddenly a gaggle of obnoxious teenagers huddled in Billy’s doorway. 

“Who cares,” Lucas scoffs, pushing him out of the way so he, Wheeler, and Will, can shuffle the rest of the way inside. “Get out of the way!”

Billy is still trying to figure out what the fuck’s even happening when Steve goddamn Harrington walks in behind his pack of brats. Because of course he was the one who drove them here. Him being a fine upstanding citizen and all that. With nothing better to do, apparently. (Not that Billy has room to judge anymore.)

Suddenly the bickering kids are mostly background noise. Billy always did have a hard time concentrating on anything else when Steve’s in the room. Especially when he’s looking like that, warm brown eyes lit up with interest, and the corner of his mouth pulling upwards in a half-smile. His cheeks are pink from the chill outside, his hair a mess from the wind, and locking eyes with him makes Billy’s heart pound. 

They’ve been on good terms these past few months and it’s a special kind of torture that Billy wouldn’t give up for the fucking world.

But he doesn’t get to enjoy the view for long because—

“—the Mind Flayer might be back!”

Billy stiffens. “What?” He glances at El. She’s sitting up straight now, her eyes dark, expression closed off. 

Mike sighs irritably. “Weren’t you listening? Will thinks he might have sensed the Mind Flayer, so we needed to make sure El’s okay.” He crosses his arms, glaring at Billy. “Because the stupid thing wants her dead, remember?”

“Wheeler,” Steve hisses, and smacks the kid’s shoulder.

“Yeah.” Billy grits his teeth, cold fingers trailing down his spine. “I remember.” 

The room is silent for several agonizing seconds, the kids all exchanging glances. Until Billy’s bedroom door opens and Max shuffles out, rubbing her eyes. 

“What’s everyone doing here?” 

~~

They’d all been hanging out at Steve’s when Will had a bad feeling. The same kind of prickling bone-deep chill he’d gotten two summers ago. Needless to say, ignoring it until people started dying didn’t seem like the way to go this time, hence the home invasion.

Which had been Steve’s idea, apparently. Or. His initial reaction had been to blurt out does this mean Billy’s possessed again, and it had spiraled from there. To Mike freaking out about El not being safe because she was here, to Lucas reminding him that Billy had only gotten the better of her when she didn’t have powers, to Dustin yelling about checking in with her either way because she might have The Facts. 

And so they’d broken a couple traffic laws to get here.

Billy suspects Steve feels guilty about suggesting he might be possessed, because he got very awkward when it was brought up. And he stepped in several times when Wheeler and Sinclair’s interrogation got a little too intense (there were threats of hot pokers involved).

It should have felt condescending—Billy’s a grown-ass adult, he doesn’t need someone defending him from lanky teenagers—but he can’t help feeling a little warm when it’s Steve coming to his defense. 

The discussion overall is a mess. El doesn’t have any answers, Billy hasn’t felt anything odd lately, and the lack of anything to go on beyond Will having a momentary freakout is putting everyone on edge. 

Max, who squished herself onto the couch between Billy and El, cuts through the cyclical arguing after the third dramatic eye-roll from Mike. “Guys, can you cool it for a second. We’re getting nowhere.” Her protest is punctuated by a yawn, which makes El giggle. 

“She’s right,” Steve sighs, mussing with his hair absentmindedly. “Billy and El are fine, everyone’s fine, we should all get some sleep.”

“Dude, are you sure you’re good to drive?” Dustin asks, squinting appraisingly at Steve. It’s a fair question, it’s late and Steve looks like he’s about to keel over, but Billy’s not sure he likes where this is going.

“Who said anything about driving?” Max snorts, glancing at Billy. 

Damnit Max.

“Is there even space for everyone here? This place is tiny.”

“Fuck you, Wheeler, not all of us can live in goddamn mansions.”

The kid opens his mouth to retort, bristling with indignation, but Will interjects, stuttering a little in his haste, “I, um, I’d feel a little safer if everyone, you know, stayed in one place? At least for tonight?”

And that pretty much settles it. 

Once everyone mumbles their (in some cases reluctant) agreement, El crows “Sleepover!” and drags Max off to find spare blankets, leaving Billy sitting on the couch alone and wondering where the hell Steve is gonna sleep. For...no particular reason...other than…

Well.

It’s not like Mike was wrong, the trailer wasn’t built to house six teenagers and two twenty-somethings. Most of them are going to end up squished on the living room floor, and Max and El already called dibs on the couch, and...well, unless Steve wants to crash in the fucking kitchen there really isn’t anywhere else for him to go other than Billy’s room. He doesn’t even have a goddamn tub the guy could curl up in. 

And just because he’s wanted Steve Harrington in his bed since minute one, doesn’t mean he wants it right now. Not like this. 

Because like this he has to deal with Max’s side-eye, and El’s knowing look (the girl has been in his head, she literally knows everything about him), and Will’s weird wide-eyed interest, and worst of all, Steve not doing this because he wants to. 

In fact, judging by the way he blanches when Max suggests it, Billy’s room is the last place he’d like to be. Which is not really something Billy ever really wanted hard proof of, thanks. 

He’s dealt with enough in his life, he didn’t need to know exactly how repulsive Steve finds the idea of sleeping in the same room as him. 

“You’re welcome to sleep in your goddamn car if my floor isn’t good enough for you, Harrington,” he bites out, probably harsher than was warranted. 

Steve blinks at him, mouth falling open, eyebrows raised. 

“Oh my god, it’s too cold to sleep outside, Billy,” Max says, rolling her eyes. “Stop being such a dick.”

“Whatever,” he mutters. “Figure your shit out, I’m going to bed.” 

The silence he leaves behind is tense and awkward. 

He’s been laying in bed staring at the ceiling, moping and berating himself, for about ten minutes when the door creaks open.

“Hey, uh,” Steve’s voice is soft, uncertain, and Billy feels like even more of an asshole for snapping at him. “I’m just...gonna...crash on the floor. Um. Good night.”

This is punishment isn’t it. For being such a douche for so long. Now he gets to try and fall asleep knowing Steve fucking Harrington is laying nearby, sleepy and warm and out of reach. He listens to Steve shuffle around, getting situated, laying out blankets and trying to find a soft bit of carpet to lay on. Has to bite his tongue to keep from saying something stupid. Like offering up his bed. Or poking fun at how much Steve sighs when he’s getting comfortable (Because it’s dumb, not cute. Definitely not cute.).

It’s unclear how long they lay there in the dark, Billy watching moonlight cast the outlines of skeletal trees across the wall, listening to Steve’s quiet breathing to remind himself he’s not alone. That the shadows are just shadows and there’s no reason to be tense and sweating and—

Billy’s pretty sure it’s been long enough that Steve should be asleep, considering how tired he looked, so he tosses his blanket off and swipes the pack of cigarettes off his bedside table, hoping to god the floor doesn’t creak when he pads across the room. There’s no noise coming from the other room, so either the kids are asleep too or a miracle has occurred and they’re all just being really quiet. 

He slips out the side door, and takes a breath. The lake is too still, despite the wind. No self-respecting body of water doesn’t have waves. But it’s pretty enough, he supposes. Enough to make for a decent view while he smokes a cigarette.

Takes a couple tries to light up. His hands aren’t what they used to be, especially in the cold. Holding off a thirty-foot meat puppet bare-handed does that to a person, tears shit up that doesn’t heal right afterwards.

He’s about halfway through his cig when Steve joins him. Billy’s shoulders stiffen at the sound of footsteps, and he doesn’t relax at all when he realizes who it is. 

“Hey.”

Out of the corner of his eye Billy watches Steve lean against the porch railing beside him. He takes another drag before he looks over properly, keeping his expression as neutral as possible. “Fancy meeting you here.” 

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Billy raises his eyebrows. Gestures with his cigarette and turns away again. “No shit.”

He can feel Steve’s eyes on him, and he resolutely ignores it. Stares out at the water and flicks cigarette ash over the railing. The wind picks up again and cuts through his thin shirt. Should’ve grabbed a fucking sweater. Not because the cold bothers him at all, but...well, because it doesn’t anymore.

He shivers when a completely-unrelated-to-the-weather chill runs down his spine.

“Soo…” Steve fidgets, and trails off awkwardly, his nonchalance painfully fake.

The corner of Billy’s mouth twitches, and he raises his cigarette to his lips, a flimsy excuse to hide his smile. 

“Did, uh. Did El choose the book, or…?”

He chokes on a mouthful of smoke. Doc Owens did tell him he shouldn’t have taken up smoking again. Though he was probably more concerned about Billy’s scarred lungs and than Steve Harrington-related hazards. 

Coughing definitely does hurt a lot more than it used to though. 

He flinches when Steve touches his shoulder, pats it, rubs a little—trying to help with the coughing, presumably—making Billy’s heart trip over itself. 

Once he’s no longer wheezing he wipes his eyes, and waves off Steve’s apologies, hoping the embarrassed flush on his cheeks isn’t too visible in the dim light. 

Steve’s hand stays where it is.

For several quiet moments Billy waits for him to withdraw but he doesn’t, and Billy finally meets his eyes. Which was probably a mistake. His heart skips again. He’s still not used to Steve looking at him like that. Soft and wide-eyed and concerned and…

God, he’s so fucking beautiful. Billy used to dream about getting this close without needing pretense, without having to pretend, getting to bask in the warmth coming off him and feel his breath on his skin and see something other than indifference—or worse, the hatred that came later—looking back at him. What he has now is...not quite what he wants. It lights him up but leaves him wanting. 

Another gust of wind makes a mess of Steve’s hair, locks falling into his eyes and sticking up in all directions, and Billy itches. Clenches his fist to stop himself from fixing it.

“Her dweeby little friends kept talking about it, and she couldn’t get through it herself. So...” Billy trails off, scratching his cheek and glancing away. “I may have had a copy laying around.”

Steve’s hand finally leaves its perch on his shoulder—both a disappointment and a relief—to brush the stray locks of hair out of his face. He grins at Billy, whole face lit up and stupidly pretty even as his fingers get stuck in tangles. “Really?” 

“Yeah.” Billy bites the inside of his cheek. “My mom used to read it to me.” 

It’s easier to talk about her now. Mostly with El, who’s still the only person who knows the full story, but, well, he’s pretty sure at least Max and Steve have guessed the bits they weren’t told. Or, hell, maybe El told everyone everything during those months he was out of commission and everyone thought he was dead, and no one’s brought it up to his face because it would be awkward as hell. 

In any case, Steve’s expression softens. 

“Oh,” he says quietly. “So, you and her were pretty close, huh?”

If asked Billy would have blamed the sudden sting of tears in his eyes on the wind. “I guess.” A pause. “Not enough for her to take me when she left,” he mumbles, chewing his thumbnail and frowning out at the lake.

His cigarette hangs between two fingers in his other hand. 

“Billy…”

“Don’t. I’ve heard every condolence in the book, okay. It’s...it’s fine.”

For several long moments the only sounds are the dry rustle of leaves in the wind and Billy’s nail-biting. 

Then Steve slips his fingers around Billy’s wrist and tugs gently. Too surprised to resist, Billy lets him. Lets his hand be pulled away from his face, thumb pressed to his pulsepoint, lets him hold on for a beat longer than necessary before letting go. And Billy stares at him the whole time, lips parted, shoulders tense, waiting to see what Steve will do next.

What he does next is smile a little sad, and tilt his head. “It’s a bad habit, you know. Biting your nails.” 

“I don’t have any other kind of habit.”

“Hm,” Steve hums, “I don’t think that’s true.” 

Which is a weird thing to say, and a weird thing to get emotional over, and yet Billy kind of feels like he’s been punched in the chest.

He rubs at the knotted scar tissue that spiderwebs across his whole torso, and can’t help but wonder—not for the first time—if Steve’s perception of him might be a little blinded by the one good thing he’s ever done. He’s tried to be better since then, atone a little, but Steve’s confidence in him still feels unearned.

And all the work he’s put into getting his shit together might all be for nothing anyways, if some fucking slime monster decides to crawl down his throat again. If Will’s right and that thing is back...for all he knows the thing has it out for him too, after the shit he pulled at Starcourt. He thought he’d end up dead, he wasn’t exactly worried about making himself a target in the long run. 

But now...

Billy exhales slowly through his nose, eyes falling shut for a moment before he grits out, “I can’t do it again.” Steve blinks at him, nonplussed. “This,” he taps his scars, “The fucking. Mind Flayer bullshit. I can’t.”

“You…” Steve folds his arms across his stomach, hands clutching his elbows. It’s a nervous tic that makes Billy ache. Always makes his heart clench, but tonight that gets lost in the black hole of anxiety already twisting up his insides  “You won’t have to, I—we’ll protect you. If we stick together—”

“It’s not a guarantee.”

“No, but—”

“We don’t know anything about this alien shit, for all we know I was never really free of it, and—I just—promise you won’t let it use me again,” Billy’s voice breaks, and he clenches his jaw to try and hold it all back, the taste of bile in the back of his throat, the crushing weight of existential panic pressing in. 

Steve’s eyes widen, “What do you mean by that?”

“You know what I mean. Crash another car into me. Let your ex shoot me in the fucking head. I don’t care how, I need you to stop me.” He needs to understand, Billy’s eyes bore into him, willing him to understand.

But he shakes his head, face twisted up with horror, “I don’t think I can do that.”

Billy takes a step towards him, desperation bleeding into his voice, “Steve.” He blinks back tears. “Please.” 

“Don’t—” Steve looks away, curling in on himself, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what, ask you to perform a public fucking service?” Billy spits, eyes stinging, face burning. He regrets the words once they’re spoken, but there’s no taking them back now. He’s talked with Owens about this sort of shit and he thought he was past it. 

Apparently not.

He deflates. Like a slap in the face, it stops him dead, turns his agonizing back inward where it fucking belongs. Wiping his eyes, he sighs. 

It’s too late to stop the puppy-dog eyes Steve’s giving him now though. The unreserved sadness in the way he’s looking at Billy is so overwhelming it’s almost palpable. “Is that really how you feel?”

Is it? He’s not sure anymore. It was for a long time. Long enough that he couldn’t remember feeling any other kind of way until El reminded him. But now…

He shrugs. “It’s...complicated. I—ah, shit!” His hand jerks, and the cigarette he’d been holding falls to the ground. That never used to hurt so fucking much. “Damn thing burnt me.” 

He sucks on the stinging knuckle, waiting for the pain to subside, tasting salt and ash, and looks back up at Steve.

They lock eyes.

Steve’s expression has closed off, his gaze still heavy, but with something else, sliding down Billy’s face with an intensity Billy’s not quite sure what to make of. He’s struck dumb by the attention (not something he usually has a problem handling), lips still wrapped around his finger but his mouth has gone slack.

It feels like a static shock, one crackling jolt of a moment, something sharp lancing through him, and then it’s over. Steve’s blinking, glancing away. Billy’s hand falls to his side. It would be like it never happened except he still feels charged, pent up, heart full to bursting and stomach in knots. 

Billy sighs, and rubs his eyes. “Let’s just...go back to bed.”

Wording, Billy. Wording. His cheeks warm a little, but he manages to keep his expression neutral as he turns and heads back inside.

He practically throws himself into his bed, curling up on his side and pulling the blankets around him, back turned to Steve. Sleep seems like a pipe dream at this point, but doing anything other than pretending to get some rest would involve talking to and/or looking at Steve, so. Not an option. 

But after he listens to Steve settle back into his little pile of blankets, the minutes crawl by, and Billy gets twitchy. Wants so badly to move, toss and turn and fidget, and say something, but doesn’t know where to start and doesn’t want to draw Steve’s attention, and—

God, this is so fucking stupid.

Billy rolls over. “Steve.”

“Yeah?” 

The room is silent for a beat. He shuffles around a little and the sheets rustle loudly in the quiet.  

“Would you get up here,” he says suddenly, all at once, demanding, scarcely believing what the fuck is coming out of his mouth. 

“...What?” Steve sounds a little breathless and it makes Billy’s stomach clench.

“Just...there’s enough room for both of us, alright.” Jesus christ. 

The lump of Steve and blankets on the floor doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak, for what seems like an eternity, and Billy’s about to brush it off, turn it into a joke, take it back, something, when—

“Okay.”

Oh.

What?

Oh god, he’s getting up. This is happening. Billy stares at his silhouette, the tense line of his shoulders, his awkward gait, and wonders why he’s agreeing to this if he’s so goddamn uncomfortable. 

Guess the floor is officially less comfortable than being in bed with Billy. Joy.

But then he’s sliding under the covers and Billy forgets to be bitter because his brain is mostly static at this point. White noise and his heartbeat thundering in his ears and the deafening creak of boxspring groaning under unexpected weight.

And Steve’s doing that thing again, sighing, little hums as he wiggles around getting himself situated, and Billy is dying. He thought he was being punished before, but now he’s sure, because this is ridiculous. No grown man should be that adorable. 

By the time he’s gotten himself comfy Billy is about ready to combust. 

It doesn’t help that he’s decided to lay down extremely close and facing Billy. It’s so intimate it hurts.

“Do you think you’ll actually sleep?”

Billy shrugs noncommittally. “Maybe.” He tries to make it sound more casual than it is. Like it’s a choice and not the sad fact that he’s too fucking anxious to relax. 

Seems he’s not the only one though, Steve keeps fidgeting, his face doing something weird Billy can’t quite see in the gloom. But he doesn’t have to see to recognize Steve’s tics.

“Spit it out,” Billy sighs.

“What did you mean. When you said it’s complicated?” Steve asks softly.

Ah.

“You really wanna get into this?” He sure doesn’t, but Steve nods and Billy’s fucking weak when it comes to giving Steve what he wants. “I meant that...I...used to feel like that. All the time. It was fucking relentless.” He thinks about rolling onto his back so he won’t have to look at Steve for this, but finds himself stuck, drawn in by the faint starlight reflected in Steve’s eyes. “But nowadays I’ve got...shit to hang on for, I guess. Doesn’t make it all go away, but it makes it easier.”

“Oh.” Steve wriggles a little closer, his hand landing in the space between their pillows. Right next to Billy’s hand. Close enough that he can feel him there, but not quite touching.

He doesn’t say anything else, which Billy’s grateful for. He’s got Doc Owens for the big speeches about how life is worth living, and it’s grating enough getting them from someone who’s literal job is to say that kind of shit. 

It helps. It does. But he can only handle so much.

Speaking of which.

“I’m sorry,” Billy says quietly. He’s keeping his hand too still for it to come across as casual, trembling with the effort. If he moved his pinky just a little they’d be touching, and he’s painfully aware of this fact.

“What for?”

“Earlier, when I...I was asking for a lot.”

“Oh.” Steve shifts, the blankets rustling as he shuffles around, but as much as he fidgets, his hand stays where it is. “Billy...I don’t want you to have to go through that again, but…”

Billy, on an impulse—with a feeling somewhat akin to stepping off a ledge without a parachute—hooks his pinky over Steve’s. In the dark he hears a soft intake of breath, can just barely make out the way Steve’s mouth falls open, moonlight casting shadows when his tongue darts out to lick his lips. 

“I know. It wasn’t fair to—”

“No, no,” Steve flips his palm upward and laces their fingers together, squeezing Billy’s hand. “It’s not that. You have every right to be scared, and...look, this whole thing is batshit crazy, none of us know how to deal with it.” 

Billy runs his thumb along the length of Steve’s index finger, marvelling at the contact, and the way his pulse flutters when the gesture is returned. It takes him a second to find his voice, “True, but you’ve never asked me to mercy kill you.”

Steve exhales, the ghost of a laugh, and it warms the back of Billy’s hand. He shivers, his whole arm tingling. “Billy, I haven’t gone through half the shit you have.” A pause. “I want to help. Anything you need, just...not that.” 

Anything. It catches in Billy’s throat, stops his heart for just a second, reminds him that they’re inches apart, in bed together. For the second time tonight he feels like he’s been punched in the sternum, and he goes rigid, relaxing only minutely when Steve squeezes his hand again.

“Careful, pretty boy. Saying shit like that might give a guy ideas,” he murmurs, gaze searching, wandering Steve’s face, the shadows cast by the soft fall of hair across his forehead.

“Oh yeah?” Steve pulls their clasped hands to his chest. His heart is racing, but his voice is steady, “Well, have enough ideas with no follow-through and a guy might think you’re all talk.”

Billy’s breath catches. The world stops. “You...you don’t want me to follow through.” 

The reality of the situation hits him like a train. Flirting is one thing, he’s always had a hard time keeping his mouth shut around Steve, but this is something he’d only ever regretted letting himself imagine because he knew he’d never have it. And now that it’s within reach...

“See, the thing is…” Steve slides a little closer. His knee brushes Billy’s thigh. “I really, really do.”

“I—” his voice breaks, mouth dry, throat closing up as he tries to swallow past the lump making it hard to breathe. 

“Billy,” Steve whispers, a hot puff of air against Billy’s lips. “Please.”

Fuck.

He surges forward—hard enough that their teeth click together—and his mouth muffles Steve’s gasp. The hand not cradled against Steve’s chest comes up to touch his cheek, fingertips caressing his jaw, coaxing him closer, sliding back to thread into his hair. 

Steve’s lips are plush and warm against his, curved into a smile that leaves Billy tingling, dizzy and drunk on sensations. The way his mouth tastes, the softness of his skin under Billy’s scarred palm, the way his heart twists when Steve reaches out to touch his chest.

He pulls back, and rests his forehead against Steve’s. His eyes stay shut and he just breathes. Soaks up the moment. 

“God,” Steve sighs, nuzzling their noses together. “Always knew you’d be good at that.”

“Yeah?” Billy asks quietly, fiddling with the stray locks of hair behind Steve’s ear. He’s feeling...raw. Vulnerable. It’s a fragile state of being, one wrong word away from breaking. Or a few right words away from fucking bliss, but that never seems to be how it goes for him. 

“Yeah, even when we didn’t like each other I wondered. Annoyed the hell outta me.”

“Steve…” He pauses, choosing his words carefully, “I always liked you.”  If his heart wasn’t already racing, it sure would be now. He braces himself for the worst.

But it doesn’t come. There’s a pause. Steve’s fingers curl into the front of his shirt. “Oh.” He presses a chaste kiss to Billy’s lips, lingering, before chuckling lightly. “That explains a lot actually.”

Billy’s cheeks burn. Yeah, he supposes it would. “You’re not...freaked out?” he ventures, hesitant. 

“Mm, nope.” He reaches up, brushes a stray curl out of Billy’s face. “Definitely okay with this.”

I love you.

The thought doesn’t shock him but the desire to say it out loud does. The way it lodges itself in his throat and sticks. He hasn’t said it to anyone—hasn’t wanted to say it to anyone—since his mother left. The precedent is intimidating, but…

Steve smells like honey and clean air, laying in bed with Billy, warm and pliant next to him tracing patterns in Billy’s scars, his gaze is fond, his smile is soft, and...and Billy’s in love.

He swallows. Pushes it down for now. 

He kisses Steve again. Slower. A gentle press of mouths, and another. Takes his time deepening it, teasing with his tongue. He waits for Steve to pull away, to decide that this thing is one thing too far, but it never happens. Steve lets him escalate, and gives as good as he gets. 

They’re both breathless and flushed and Billy’s riding high on the bubbling warmth in his chest, lightheaded from it. He slides his leg over Steve’s, straddling his thigh, pressing down, seeking friction. 

He shifts, rocking forward a little, and Steve moans, low and deep right in Billy’s ear.

They both freeze. Steve’s breath coming in ragged little bursts against the side of Billy’s face. 

“Pretty boy, as much as I’d love to hear more of that, no one else in the house does.”

“Jesus christ.”

“No need to bring him into it.”

“Shut up,” Steve laughs and buries his face in Billy’s shoulder. “Just give me a minute.”

“Aw, I get you all riled up, baby?” 

Steve slides a hand down, down, and palms Billy’s cock, drawing a short gasp from him. “Yes.”

They stay entangled the rest of the night, dozing in and out of consciousness, Steve pressing the occasional sleepy kiss to Billy’s collarbone. And...Billy’s not sure what will happen after tonight, but he knows it’ll be easier to deal with if he gets to keep this. Whatever this is. He doesn’t have the heart to ask, not yet, but for the first time in a while, he has hope.

[chaoslaura]

Can this be for Willex please. Fluff 11 “I’m so proud of you.” 

If it’s ok to ask, can Alex have a bad panic attack when he’s out with Willie.

I know Alex having a panic attack has been done a few times but I always feel like once he’s gone through it, the fic just ends and I’d like to read one where Alex is really embarrassed and Willie is just so caring afterwards and really protective.

Hi hi I loved the Willex prompt you did it was so good. Can I ask for them for a prompt? Fluff 11. “I’m so proud of you” I had an idea Alex has a panic attack, it’s the first time Willie has seen it happen, Willie helps him through it and he says that to Alex

First, thanks for the kind words I’ve gotten so far.

For this prompt I have gotten two requests that were kinda similar, so I mixed them together to create one story, I hope you like it though.

Read it on AO3

Warnings: panic attack, mention of self harm (nails digging into skin)

As someone who has never experienced anxiety or panic attacks, I didn’t feel comfortable to write a full panic attack scene in case I wrote it wrong because the only things I know about it are from reading fics myself. But please feel free to talk to me if I depicted anything wrong.

In retrospect it wasn’t perfectly clear what had set it off. It wasn’t one specific event, or person, or thought, rather the whole day was just one big disaster. From the minute Alex woke up nothing was going according to plan. Which wouldn’t be catastrophic per se but on some days even a minor accident could be enough to push him over the edge, and today these accidents just kept piling on top of each other till Alex couldn’t see over the mountain.

In retrospect it wasn’t perfectly clear what had set it off. It wasn’t one specific event, or person, or thought, rather the whole day was just one big disaster. From the minute Alex woke up nothing was going according to plan. Which wouldn’t be catastrophic per se but on some days even a minor accident could be enough to push him over the edge, and today these accidents just kept piling on top of each other till Alex couldn’t see over the mountain.

When his phone had gone off with a beeping sound and vibrated on his bedside table and Alex peeled his eyes open, he was confused for a moment. Why wasn’t the sun shining in his face? Alex would always wake up with sunrays covering his bed and face from where he didn’t close the curtains the full way. Liking waking up with the bright sunlight. But this morning it was different.

Peeking at his phone he realized it wasn’t morning at all, that’s why. “8:30? Fuck!” Class would’ve already started by then and Alex was never late. Never. It was one of his fears. Having to come in while every student and every pair of eyes was aimed at him and the teacher was pinning him down with a reproving look and writing with red ink into the class book that he had been late. To Luke and Reggie, it would’ve just been another line next to their name, nothing unusual since they started high school, but to Alex punctuality was a sign of respect and a part of keeping his day together. He always knew when to be where, dragging his other two friends with him because as Julie once said he had their collective brain cell at all times.

With a hop Alex sprung out of bed into the bathroom. While hastily brushing his teeth, he wondered why his parents didn’t wake him up. Didn’t they notice his closed door or his shoes next to the front door? They were aware of Alex schedule; they must have been knowing he was running late so why on earth did they just left for work without waking him? Alex could’ve worried about it for hours but frankly he didn’t have time for thinking about his parent’s behaviour. Not since it changed drastically after they found out about Alex ‘habit’ to kiss guys. More precisely Willie. His boyfriend.

Not having time for dreaming about his perfect boyfriend either, Alex raced back into his room and searched through his wardrobe for his favourite sweater, the pink one, his friends nagged him to get, saying pink was really suiting him and it would piss of his parents for sure.

Coming up with nothing after searching through it for three times, he came to the daunting conclusion it must be in the laundry. It was his feel-good hoodie, it was comfy and soft and warm, and just gave him safety, he really needed it today. Resting his head on the closet door with more force than necessary, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. And one more. Come on you can survive one day without your hoodie. Alex tried to persuade himself and quickly grabbed another Shirt to put on without putting much thought into it.

He decided to skip breakfast, school lunch wasn’t that far away, and headed out of the door after making sure he had at least all the books he needed today. He always packed his bag the evening before but who knows what he could’ve missed. Standing in the front yard of the house, for the second time today, he was confused. Shouldn’t his bike be standing there? Racking his brain and shortly fearing someone stole it, it came back to him. His brother had it today since his own was in repair. Just great. Now he had to walk. Without one of his parents taking him with them in their car, without his bike, and the school bus long gone.

It wasn’t that far, but it meant he would be even later. He at least would miss the whole first period and could walk in the next classroom like everybody else and no one would give him questioning looks. Oh no Alex groaned internally; his next class was math. Right, today was Tuesday and his second period being math with Reggie. Reggie at least had an idea of what topic they covered this week, but Alex was completely lost, and he was pretty sure Mr. Smiths hated him for his lack of knowledge. He was trying, he really did, even hiring Reggie as his tutor but it just wouldn’t stick, and now he had to suffer through it while his brain was already distracted. Hopefully Mr. Smiths wouldn’t pick him today, that’s the last thing he needed.

Taking big steps to hurry up, he arrived quicker than he anticipated. Rushing in and through the hallways he stepped into the room just as the bell rang, indicating class started. Hastily taking his seat next to Reggie, he took his book out of his bag while Reggie fixated him with a questioning look, raised eyebrow and all. ‘Where have you been?’ Reggie mouthed but Alex shook his head, he would explain later. The last thing he wanted was for Mr. Smiths to catch him talking in class and getting another mark.

Even though he was physically there now, his brain decided to race in the other direction. It worked on full speed since he had woken up and concentrating on the math problem written down before him was not achievable. But to his luck Mr. Smiths left him alone and Reggie passed him notes with the right answers to which Alex threw him a grateful smile.

Finally, after two more classes he walked with Luke to the cafeteria only to discover he forgot his money at home. His wallet must be sitting on his desk. Groaning he put his head in his hands and then carded swiftly through his hair with his fingers. He was really hungry, if his grumbling stomach wasn’t indicator enough, after skipping breakfast, but without money there were no possible means to get any food.

Luke sensed Alex distress immediately. “Alex? What is it?” Oh, yeah, Alex almost forgot Luke was beside him, having zoned out completely.

“Forgot my lunch money, tis all.” He replied defeated.

“I buy you one today and you can get me something next week. Don’t worry about it.” Luke gave Alex a pat on the back and marched on towards the doors. “Are you coming or what?” He asked over his shoulder.

Alex was so grateful in that moment but quickly followed his friend.

Sitting down on the table with their plates the others were already there. Meaning Julie, Flynn, and Willie who gave him a short peck on the mouth. “Hello, hotdog.” He greeted Alex with a bright smile Alex could only compare to the sun and a warmth spread through his body, calming him down at least a little, it was a side effect that always came while being in the presence of Willie.

Reggie and Flynn were deep into a conversation about frogs to which Alex could not contribute anything, and Julie and Luke were already discussing songs they could rehearse later the day and Alex wasn’t really in the mood to interfere with them, their energy was too high for him to match right now. Leaning against Willie’s shoulder while his boyfriend scrolled through his Instagram feed on his phone Alex couldn’t help but bounce with his leg up and down. The uncomfortable feeling from this morning still settled deep in his bones and it seemed it wouldn’t leave anytime soon, and Alex knew shaking his legs wouldn’t do anything but there was no harm to try.

A ping signalled an incoming message. Fumbling for his phone in his pockets he instantly regretted pulling it out as soon as he saw the name on the screen. It was his mum and she never messaged him if it wasn’t important and recently important messages meant reminding him to behave.

Wrestling with himself for a short minute he decided to open it and skipped over the text. He must’ve zoned out for a bit because as he came back a hand was seeking out his right one and Alex realized he was biting on the skin around his nails as he did so often unconsciously. Willie took the hand in his and laced their fingers together, giving him a small smile to say he was here. Luke who was sitting on the other side of Alex laid a hand on his shaking knee. “What has gotten you today? Are you okay?” There was always worry weaved in his voice and Alex was again reminded that today isn’t a good one.

Alex didn’t like having the attention on him and he was glad that Reggie and Flynn were still deep in their conversation, knowing it wouldn’t help if they stared at him too. He knew Julie was listening, but she at least scribbled on a piece of paper what could’ve been lyrics and didn’t openly questioned him and his behaviour. Alex knew that his body always betrayed him when he was anxious, showing the tell-tale signs when he was spiralling, and he didn’t have to say anything before one of his friends gave him the opportunity to vent.

Alex sighed deeply. “Just not a good day. And my mum wrote me. My grandparents are coming by this weekend. From my fathers’ side.” Pocketing his phone again to try to get the message out of his mind, he leaned further into Willie and found a pair of arms winding around him but giving him space to breath.

“Shit.” Luke let out. He was the only one of them who had met Alex grandparents, but they all knew how much Alex despised them. Having to put on a front whenever they came around, it was just plain exhausting, and Alex wanted to push away the reminder of their visit until the day arrived.

Alex nodded to show he shared Luke’s sentiment and began to play with the rings on Willie’s finger. Today was truly one bad thing happening after the other and he couldn’t wait till he came home and could slump down on his bed and just breath for a minute before he had to start with his homework.

He asked his English teacher if he could get any extra credits since his essay only got an 80 and his parents wouldn’t be pleased with that result but what else could he do? Hide the paper till his parents found out on their own? No, he needed a plan before he would show the note to his parents and if that meant extra work, so be it.

The end of the school day didn’t come as fast as Alex had hoped, the hours dragging by and with every look to the clock, just a few minutes had passed, and it might have been the slowest time had ever gone by. The buzzing under his skin that had started not shortly after lunch when Alex couldn’t help but overthink what could happen over the weekend didn’t help his nervousness and by the time he left the school building the skin around his nails was red and bitten down and Alex knew he shouldn’t but he had done it for so long it was hard to stop the habit.

Alex decided to walk the way home, the thought of sharing his space with other students on the school bus made his skin crawl, the fresh air should help clear out his head a little bit and he could put his nervous energy into walking. The faster the better till his calves were burning. Before he turned the first corner though, he could hear someone yelling his name behind him. Spinning around in case it was one of his friends he had to discover it was not in fact one of the boys but instead John. John, a guy with the most average name and most average face, had been on his case since he came out in school and hadn’t stopped yet no matter how often Luke threatened him with a serious ‘talking’ after school or Flynn and Julie actually talked with him while letting out their frightening personas that even made Luke and Alex take a step back.

Alex wasn’t in the mood to listen to John’s comments and hastily turned around to continue his run home. Not today. It was the last thing he needed today. With all the spiralling thoughts already spinning in his head he didn’t need another person pulling all his fears to the surface.

Closing the front door behind him Alex didn’t know when or how he arrived at home, the walk was completely erased from his mind, replaced with a static in his head and he realized once he got to his room his breathing had picked up. No no no come on; you know the breathing techniques. He told himself and tried to calm himself while he sat on the ground before his bed, his bag lazily thrown into the corner.

Alex doesn’t actually know how much time had passed until he sensed someone sitting down some distance before him. The tears in his eyes made it difficult to see the room before him clearly and he could only made out the long dark hair and colourful Shirt, trying to concentrate on the pattern.

“Alex?” Willie’s tentative voice pierced through the fog in Alex mind, but he could only nod shortly to indicate he heard him. Speaking was not yet in the realm of the possible.

Some more minutes or what felt more like hours to him, but Alex knew wasn’t the case, Willie’s figure stood more clearly in front of him and the room wasn’t spinning as much. His hands were still shaking and the tear tracks on his cheek still not dried. But it was better.

Willie settled beside him now that Alex could see him. “Hey hotdog.” Alex turned his head to the voice. “Is it okay if I touch you?” Alex gave a quick jerk with the head to say yes, not quite trusting his voice yet.

Slowly and so that Alex could see it in the corner of his eye Willie took Alex hand and opened the fist it was in and turning it around to inspect the crescents indents in the palm of his hand. Deep and red against the skin, not bleeding but he had almost pierced the skin with his nails.

“I’m sorry.” Alex voice was scratchy, and he looked to where Willie was holding him, shame flooding his body as he tried to pull back his hand and hide the dents.

But Willie didn’t let him, gently holding on to the hand and closing his own around it, his attention shifting to Alex face. With his other hand he wiped the remaining tears from the splotchy cheeks and then shifted a bit to rummage through his bag that sat behind him and brought a bottle of water to light. “Here, you need something to drink.” While Alex accepted the drink with a thanks and took a few sips, Willie’s gaze never left him, but Alex realized it was filled with the same affection Willie always looked at him with and not with annoyance or nuisance as he had feared for so long, afraid of what Willie would do or say once he saw that side of him.

Alex wanted to start apologizing again when he put down the bottle, but Willie got ahead of him, “I’m proud of you.” And that put a hold on Alex thoughts because what? “Huh?” Was all that came out of Alex mouth instead from his confusion.

“I mean it. How many times did you go through this already? Even alone? I know it’s terrifying but every time you bounce back, and I think that’s noteworthy.” Willie’s thumb was brushing over the skin on his hand and Alex was almost ready to cry again because no one ever said that to him and all he could see was a bundle of mess sitting in his place in his room, in front of his bed.

“But- but now you have seen what it looks like, how can you still want to be here?” The with me was left unsaid but Alex was sure Willie got it nonetheless.

“Alex, I don’t care how messy it gets, I’m here for you, always.”

To say Alex was grateful was an understatement but then something else came to his mind and he groaned, letting his head fall back against the bed and squeezing his eyes shut, already feeling ashamed. “I forgot our date.” Willie and he were to meet at the skatepark because Willie saw some videos and wanted to recreate some stunts he found cool.

“You didn’t forget. It’s okay, really. We have enough time to catch up.”

Before he could say anything else, they could hear the front door slamming shut and Luke calling Alex name and two pair of feet were heard stamping up the stairs. Alex looked at Willie questioningly. He was perplexed as to why Willie was here but also Reggie and Luke?

Willie looked sheepishly suddenly. “I texted them when I found you here. Sorry, it was the first time seeing you like this, and I was afraid I would do something to make it worse, so I asked them to come around.”

“It’s okay.” Honestly, Alex was a bit relived. The boys knew how to handle him. Did so for years before Alex even knew what was happening with him.

Reggie stayed in the threshold to not crowd him, meanwhile Luke sat down on the other side of Alex, taking him in and examining the situation. “Hey, how are you doing? We came as soon as we got the message, but we were shopping for Julie and Reggie stopped me from ignoring the red lights.”

“Could be better, but I’m okay.” He answered honestly, he knew Luke was always the first to worry over him. But know he was worried what other stupid things besides ignoring traffic laws the boys had done to quickly come to him all the other times before today.

Luke didn’t give him time to ponder over it. “If you good to get up we can take this to the couch.” He proposed.

“Great idea. And I doubt it was ever a better time for ice cream.” Reggie said already on his way to the kitchen.

“You just want to take the opportunity to get your hands on the deluxe stuff Mrs. Mercer always buys.” Luke half yells after him and Willie snickered from where he was still sitting next to Alex, hand clasped around him. Alex meanwhile tried to gather his remaining energy to stand up with a little bit of help from Willie.

The couch was way better than the floor in his room, definitely more comfortable and providing more space for all of them. Alex was seated between Willie’s legs and leaned into his chest, a blanket over them to keep Alex warm and he really appreciated that his boyfriend didn’t left after the whole mess he had to witness. Willie who sensed Alex shift in demeanour and could feel him tensing up against him, hooked his chin over Alex shoulder and whispered in his hear so the other two couldn’t overhear them. “I love you Alex.”

Alex cheeks turned a bit red but luckily no one commented on it, Luke and Reggie were deep into an argument about the best feel-good movie, finally resting the case on Rise of the Guardians while Luke pouted in his corner of the couch that the others weren’t willing to watch Back to the Future. Again. But with a pint of ice cream in his hand, his pout quickly dissolved into a small smile and he regularly glanced beside him to make sure Alex was doing okay.

Alex was indeed content were he was, in the arms of his boyfriend, sharing the ice cream with him, breathing in the scent that relaxed him further until his eyes were almost closing on their own accord. He always got sleepy after, all energy drained from him and he slipped further into the embrace until he fell asleep after initially only wanting to rest his eyes for a bit.

Willie noticed when his boyfriend didn’t try to steel from the ice cream anymore and put it aside in favour of carding through Alex hair, making sure he was comfortable while sleeping.

Luke and Reggie were giving him a thankful smile. “Thank you for being there for him.” Reggie spoke up with much more earnest Willie was used from him.

“I didn’t do anything. I was just nervous to make it worse for him.”

Luke put a hand on his shoulder. “You couldn’t. You did great. Alex has been in a much worse state before we found him. Just stay by his side no matter what. We’re glad he has you. With his parents and these assholes from school, he needs every support he can get even though he wouldn’t admit that so outright.”

Willie smiled to himself. The boys never gave him the stern talking when Alex and him had gotten together but he had sensed the protectiveness coming from them whenever he was around the first times, only fading away after a few months, and Willie would make sure to never get on their bad sides, not that he wanted to. If it meant to stand by Alex side with his anxiety and watch animation movies (or Back to the Future five times for Luke and Star Wars seven times for Reggie) with him and the boys while eating sweets and talking nonsense to distract Alex mind for a while, he wouldn’t trade it for the world.                                  

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

when/how did you realize beatles music was amazing and something you couldn't live without?

I'm trying to not start off every answer with "OOF" but you people do keep sending me loaded questions lol. That's fine though, I enjoy it, keep it coming! My close attachment to the bug boys (both their music and them) is new. It more or less started at the beginnng of May of this year.

I've always known about them and known a good handful of songs. We sang Yellow Submarine and Hello Goodbye in school, I have memories of playing Beatles Rockband once at my cousin's house and also the Love album used to be relatively regular car music for my family. Also, I was in class with someone who was obsessed with their music and sometimes she'd be playing songs. My opinion on the music for most of my life has been kind of… middling. There were songs I really liked or loved (like Help! or Eleanor Rigby) songs I thought were fine but didn't take much note of (something like Being For The Benefit of Mr Kite) and ones I just really didn't get the hype for (A Hard Day's Night comes to mind [I love it now]). But I have a sort of kneejerk sceptic reaction to people hyping stuff up for no discernible reason sometimes, and so the more I'd hear older people with little knowledge of music theory and history call them the be-all end-all of music, the more I sort of developed a kind of aversion to them. I just hate being told to respect and/or like things without knowing why, y'know?

PSA to older Beatles fans: you will NOT convince younger people to listen to your music by telling them their music taste sucks actually.

On the other hand, I had also sort of gotten the idea I should maybe go through their entire discography and get behind the myth of it all. I sort of attempted this a few times over the years, like I started listening to Sgt. Pepper once and then for some reason had to stop halfway, and I listened to the This Is The Beatles playlist on spotify a few nights in a row in 2019 lol.

What actually made me commit to doing it was 1) I had seen a LOT of backlash against Taylor for breaking the Beatles' records for 3 number one albums within the least amount of time in the UK last April, and like the sheer stupidity of some of the arguments being made why "Actually She Didn't Break This Record" really set me off (for example talking about it being "more effort" to buy an album back in the day… But the Beatles weren't competing for number one against anyone who had it "easier" to sell their albums and Taylor wasn't competing against anyone who had it "harder" than her. Or talking about absolute pure sales numbers when that's not what going number one means?) and 2) in a Discord I was in, someone shared a link to an 8-Bit version of Sgt. Pepper at the beginning of May, which I decided to listen to cause it seemed like good study music and I rather enjoyed! I found it really let their talent for creating good melodies shine through.

WHY DO I KEEP COMPLETELY EXPOSING MYSELF IN MINIATURE ESSAYS WHEN ASKED STRAIGHTFORWARD QUESTIONS

Anyways, so all of that made me go okay! I'm gonna go through this motherfucking huge discography then I will know this music better than a LOT of the people who hype it up and then I will be able to be objective about all of this.

So I listened to Sgt. Pepper and Please Please Me and then the White Album. The first was enjoyable but I didn't really ~get the immense hype, Please Please Me bored me at first (I think their early style is something you kind of need to get into and need to hear a few times to fully appreciate. But also Love Me Do sucks and why a record label thought it would be a good debut single is absolutely BEYOND ME) and the last one REALLY caught me off guard. There was stuff in there I loved (Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da is actually possibly my very first favourite song that wasn't a kids' song. I used to have to go to these psychomotor education classes and that song played there often and I adored it. Also Piggies slaps, send tweet) but also like a lot of stuff I found pretty weird and off-putting. And I still haven't warmed up to Yer Blues and Why Don't We Do It In The Road. That album did, however, get me very interested in the band. I think the weirdness of the album really just invited me to look into their history. I wanted to understand why they had broken up. That sent me down the rabbithole of the India trip history and I just kept reading more and more wikipedia articles related to all of it.

It was around this point I sort of came to realize that I'd had a lot of wrong preconceived notions about them, especially John. I was never someone like roaming around twitter, yelling for him to be cancelled, but he had simply never seemed sympathetic to me. For instance, IDK if I misunderstood what someone told me or if that person had misunderstood, but the story of John learning chords with Paul left-handed to follow him better (and maybe also Stuart not letting Paul change around the strings on his bass) had somehow been morphed into John finding Paul's left-handed playing off-putting and forcing Paul to play right-handed?? And I was like "Wow, what an asshole!" Also all the 1970 narrative that the two didn't like each other, plus I projected boomers' and gen-xers' Beatle snobism onto them and just got the impression they were pretentious narcissists. (I mean they were kind of that, but not to the extent or in the same way I imagined)

So I think learning these things opened me up to them more. Like I realized Hey! They were my age! And then at some point I found out about the Christmas albums and thought that was so fascinating, that that existed, (a huge part of my initial interest was my fascination with the marketing around them, which is why I watched AHDN and Help! super early on) so I listened to those and was like "Fuck! These guys are endearing!" and then I remember lurking on bug-tumblr and seeing that "Well that was very observant of them, because we aren't American actually" quote and I wanted to find the video of it and ended up finding this legendary video. And starting to actually like these guys and realizing they took all of this ten times less seriously than their Boomer fans do made me more excited to keep listening to the discography and look up more of the stories behind the songs and just kind of… Come to understand them better. I also found that once I accepted that some Boomers are just gonna hype up their fave music too much I'd enjoy it more. Like I'd listen to I Want To Hold Your Hand and get a bit defensive like "why do you love this so much??? the lyrics are so dumb??" but when I just kind of accepted that fact I realized no! It's an amazingly structured bop, which yes, has weak lyrics but it's fine!!! It's the Call Me Maybe of its day and that's NOT a bad thing!!

And in the end they have an amazingly versatile catalogue that covers most things you might be in the mood for. It is kind of hard (for me) not to like it.

There are still sort of two bands in my head: the archetype, the myth, the pretentious group of people who hate each other that I just sort of instinctively want to dislike and the band who sang all those songs I had NO IDEA existed and came into my life without any baggage or expectations from my part. I've pretty much never listened to say Hey Jude in the past months, even though I don't find it bad the outro is too fucking long because it's kind of got too much of that baggage to me still.

This was SUCH a ramble but I hope this makes sense to people to some extent. Anyways I'm a new fan, drag me, but maybe drag me more for how much I seem to know after three months. Seriously, this is a curse.

[ashesonthefloor]

baby, you’re a haunted house (ot4)

summary: Michael really wants to go to Sydney’s most famous haunted house. He may or may not get super startled by one of the actors, and may or may not hit them in the nose by accident. And, after that, he might keep coming back to to try and apologize properly. And the haunted house might just have a never-ending supply of cute guys working there. (That’s a lie. There’s only three he cares about). ao3 found here

prompt:  “I’m working as an actor in a haunted house and when I scared you, you punched me in the nose. Now I’m bleeding and someone had to get me an ice pack, and you won’t stop apologizing. You’re lucky you’re cute” (except i changed the POV because i wrote the prompt and i can do what i want thank u <3)

word count: 12,433 

content warning: blood! there is nothing too graphic, but, as depicted in the prompt, someone is accidentally hit, and there is a nosebleed. it is all handled and fine, though, and it isn’t too detailed. lots of pining :)

A/N: whew! i’ve worked on this baby for the last two months and only just finished her this week but i am PROUD! i actually really love the way it came out, and my plot! please let me know what you think, i’m a slut for feedback! this was done for my sexy, sexy halloween event that is happening right now! massive shout out to @mikeycliffords​ and @glitterblazercalum​ for beta’ing this! maddie ur comments gave me endless validation and i adore u, and iba u caught all my sexy grammatical errors and i love u for it (and ur reaction to luke’s major <3). and to both @calumcest​ and @clumsyclifford​ for having to listen to me scream and not know what i was writing. unfortunate shoutout to Mr. Gerard Way for the vibey Halloween song i named this after. baby, you’re a haunted house slaps.

Michael loved Halloween. He was pretty sure it was his absolute favourite holiday, and would say that to almost anyone who dared to ask, though most people who knew him knew not to. It was in Fall, so it was nice and chilly, and he had an excuse to bundle up in hoodies and stay there until spring. And he was an absolute slut for horror movies of any sort. He absolutely adored them, no matter how cheesy and poorly-produced. If he had any talent in it at all, he said fairly regularly to his few friends, he’d be an SFX artist. But he didn’t, and he was stuck working as a barista and getting his degree in film studies. 

So when his best friend in the whole fucking world landed a job working with Sydney’s infamous haunted house - known for being realistic, and terrifying, and all the makeup being technically perfect - and invited him to come see it, insisted he can get him in, who was he to say no? He absolutely couldn’t refuse - didn’t even want to, and he’d wanted to go for years, so this was the opportunity of a lifetime - and that was that. It was most of his favourite things all rolled up into one, with the bonus of it being sort of exclusive. Because it was so well known, they always ended up having to open a month early, and the line still wrapped halfway around the block every night. Michael was going to get a backstage pass to all sorts of shit. 

He dressed fairly warm for the occasion, even if it wasn’t quite cold enough yet to justify it, with his hoodie on, oversized so he could cover his hands with the sleeves. Sue him, okay, it was comfortable and warm and he liked tugging on the sleeves or his hoodie strings when he was anxious. Not that he ever wanted anyone to know he’s anxious. Michael worked fairly hard on keeping that part hidden away, so no one else could ever see it. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed, exactly. He just...didn’t want anyone knowing. It took level eleven Michael friendship to unlock his insecurities, thank you, and even then, there weren’t many he'd really disclose.

Sydney never got properly cold, so the hoodie was more than enough to keep him warm in the chilly end-of-September breeze. He made his way to the haunted house, queuing up in the line with the rest of the people preparing for the best fucking scares of their lives. 

The waiting process was the worst part of the whole thing. It was just him standing by himself in line, bouncing slightly on his heels every so often and worrying with his sleeves, from excitement, nerves, and maybe it was actually slightly chilly for once. He texted his friend a few times, only to get no reply. He frowned at his phone after twenty minutes of trying with no success. He was supposed to come get Michael at some point. If he was waiting to show him around at the end, wouldn’t he want to know which group he’d be in, or when he was going through the haunted house? Or at least answer him and tell him what his plan was? Apparently fucking not, though, since he made it up to the front without a single stupid text.

His jitters weren’t helped at all by that, but he eventually just jammed his phone into his hoodie pocket and hoped it didn’t fall out in the house. Michael and the people around him were finally let into the haunted house and given the long list of instructions. It was all the usual shit, that everything inside was fake, and to keep that in mind. To remember that the actors were just actors. And to go over the last few warnings - like that the actors would jump out, target people to scare them, ask questions, and generally, you know, act. Everyone agreed to the rules with varying degrees of excitement, and then they were all corralled into the waiting area. 

Michael was back to bouncing slightly in place, hoodie sleeves fully over his hands at this point. The decorations weren’t too scary yet, just meant to keep the haunted mansion theme going. The premise was something about a doctor and his torture chamber and all his patients gone wrong or something. Michael has forgotten a couple of the details, but he remembered the gist of it. He couldn’t make out anything specific, really, not through the awful dim lighting and the light fog rolling in close to the ground, thanks to the hidden fog machines, only adding to the chill in the cold building. 

One of the women in front of him was murmuring quietly to her boyfriend, gripping tightly to his hand. She didn’t seem much like she really wanted to be there. Michael hoped, for her sake, she’d remembered the safe word. Which was a nice touch, making sure everyone could yell it if needed. That rule was burned into his brain: if you yelled the safe word - mercy - any actor nearby would drop their act and escort you to the nearest exit, and you would absolutely not be allowed back in. Michael wanted to make sure he remembered it, but this was practically a once in a lifetime chance, and he really didn’t want to blow it. 

Finally - finally - they were allowed into the actual haunted house. The first room wasn’t too bad, just the doctor guy’s living room with some narration about who he’d been and a little about his ‘abominations’. Michael got enthralled in the story pretty quickly, gaze lingering on the (fake) family portraits on the (equally fake) mantle and on the walls. 

Room two brought a couple of scares, but he still wasn’t doing too badly. They were easily moved from room to room, sticking together in a clump. When the narration ended, basically, that was their cue to move on. Or for some sort or scare to jump out. 

But, of course, the greatest horror house in Sydney wouldn’t stay predictable. After room number three, the smooth transition was broken up by a long, dark corridor, with the sides pressing in on everyone as they went through. Michael curled in a little on himself, shuffling forward so close to the next person in line that he accidentally stepped on their heels. They didn’t even have time to be annoyed before they were in the next room. 

After room number four was worse. They went down an equally dark staircase, Michael’s grip on the handrail white-knuckled, pale skin almost luminous even in the pitch black. He shuffled forward once he managed his way down, unable to see anything, but didn’t bump into anyone. Which was...odd, given how tightly packed they’d all been up to this point. He took a gamble and swallowed his pride, sticking both arms out and stumbling forward, completely blind in the dark. Only then did the awful strobe light kick on above him, even fucking worse than the dark. He only got vague glimpses of where he was, and he couldn’t even see anyone around him in whatever room he was in. Fucking great, he had the best fucking luck in the entire world. Which he mumbled to himself as he continued his blind zombie-shuffle forward until his outstretched hand brushed a wall. Finally. 

He kept that palm pressed against the smooth (fake) stone, moving in one direction he chose to believe was forward. He was pretty sure it was the opposite direction from the staircase, at least. Hopefully he’d make some progress that way. This was so fucked. Where had his group gone? He was very, very sure he’d been with them. They’d filed down the staircase with him, hadn’t they? Where the fuck were they? Where the fuck was he? This certainly seemed like a fucking dungeon. 

He kept going until the shadows seemed to stay in one corner. He stretched out his unoccupied left hand, fingers brushing against another wall. He let out a frustrated groan, quiet and under his breath, even though he was pretty damn sure he was alone. He pressed his hand against it, palm against the cool stone, and he felt it open with a soft click. And he really didn’t care what was on the other side, he just wanted out of the stupid fucking strobe lights. 

And, of course the strobe lights turned off as he stepped towards the open door. His luck was so fucking perfect today, wasn’t it? 

He stepped through the hidden door (or whatever it was, Michael really didn’t care at this point), letting it slowly close behind him with the same soft click that definitely wasn’t ominous at all. This room, at least, wasn’t completely pitch black. There were lanterns hanging from the ceiling, and fake torches along one stone wall, that provided dim lighting. He skirted over to the side of the dungeon that was lit, gaze lingering on the shadowy side. His eyes still hadn’t really adjusted to the lighting, still absolutely fucked up from the stupid fucking strobe light. He would enjoy this a lot more if he knew this was intentional - if it was intentional - or if he was with his fucking group. Sue him, okay, maybe this shit was slightly better with company. 

He heard something shift from the direction of the door, gaze sliding over there. The room really wasn’t that open, and was pretty small in size. He felt something brush his left shoulder and jumped, stumbling forward toward the shadowy side of the dungeon room - backward, now, maybe, since he definitely whirled around to look at whatever the fuck had poked him, only to find nothing but the stone wall. What the fuck was this fucking place? He knew that wasn’t a bat. Maybe it was a bat? He really, really didn’t know. 

There was a weird sound from the shadowy side of the dungeon, which he was way, way closer to, now. He turned to look at it, only to flinch back when something lunged at him, snarling. Michael whirled around to look and let out an absolutely dignified shriek, reacting entirely on instinct, which was the only reason he realized, seconds too late, that that horrifying crunching noise had been his fist colliding with the thing’s nose. 

The thing, that he was now realizing, was an actor, chained to the wall with long chains. They’d made the noise earlier, scraping against the floor, as the actor had shifted. Probably. “Oh, fuck,” Michael said automatically, eyes widening. His knuckles fucking hurt, sure, but he was more focused on the poor actor. 

The makeup was, as promised, spectacular. He was a half-turned werewolf, shirtless and covered in gruesome patches of fur and deep, gory claw marks. He had some sort of fangs in, too, and weird orange contacts that definitely made him look feral. What Michael was most focused on, though, was the blood dripping from his nose that was definitely not stage makeup. 

The actor had a small frown on his face, two fingers coming up to gently touch his nose. He let out a soft hiss, frown pulling more at his lips. “Damn,” he murmured. 

“Oh, fuck,” Michael said, ever so eloquent. “Oh, fuck. Dude, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t- I’ve never hit someone before in my life, I don’t know what the fuck-“

The actor shook his head. “It’s alright. It happens.” He gave him a small smile, one corner of his lips pulling up, before it dropped right back into a frown. Probably aggravated his injured nose. That Michael had done. Fuck. “Hazard of the job, you know? I told them not to activate the strobe lights and then put a jump scare after them. They make people jumpy since they fuck with your vision. They put people on edge. And then to have someone jump at you out of the dark….” He just looked sort of amused. Vindicated, too, maybe. “I figured it would happen at some point. I just got lucky until now, I guess.”

“Fuck, I’m so….I don’t even…..I’m so sorry,” Michael said again, brows drawing together. He really hadn’t meant to. Had he made that clear enough yet? He hadn’t meant to. His panic wasn’t helped by how fucking cute the werewolf was. 

The werewolf just ran a hand through his brown curls, pushing them back out of his eyes. “It’s alright. Really. It happens.” He eyed Michael, amusement in his eyes despite Michael’s clear panic. “I’m Ashton, by the way.”

Michael felt like he was still a few steps behind. Shouldn’t the werewolf be mad at him? Or kicking him out of the haunted house or something? “Oh. Uh. I’m Michael.” Ashton was a pretty name. And Michael was pretty sure it suited him, since it was clear Ashton was pretty attractive, even under all the makeup. And the blood. His nose was definitely bruised.

Speaking of his bloody nose, Ashton pressed two fingers right below it again, frowning as they came away covered in blood. “Well, Michael, you can definitely pack a punch.” He looked almost amused again before it gave way to concern. “Are you okay?”

Michael’s internal monologue still hadn’t shifted from ‘fuck. Fuck. fuck. Fuck. fuck. Fuck. fuck. Fuck.’ on loop in his head, so it took him a second to register the question. He still felt like he was short circuiting, adrenaline from the scare and the acute embarrassment immediately after still tingling up his spine and all the way to his shaking hands, fingers trembling a little where they were uncovered by the hoodie sleeves. “Wha- me? I’m- yeah? Fine, I- yeah, uh, think. I think, I mean. I mean I am, I’m fine. Okay. Yeah. Good.”

Ashton raised an eyebrow, stepping just a little closer. Michael was pretty sure he could hear his own heartbeat, too loud and too fast, echoing in his ears. Not loud enough to cover the unsettling scrape of metal against stone as Ashton’s chains moved with him. He focused on breathing, pretty sure he’d stopped for a second, inhaling the stale taste of the synthetic fog, permeating through the entire building, though the air lacked the telltale haze of a fog machine, and the equally stale, dank smell of the room itself. It was grounding, sort of. He was definitely not freaking out, though. Not at all. Not with Ashton right in front of him now, gaze fixed on him, Michael’s right hand still tingling, knuckles still aching. This definitely wasn’t social anxiety nightmare fuel. He was definitely perfectly fine.

Ashton reached for Michael’s hand, Michael numbly letting him take it, unable to do much more than watch. Ashton leaned forward a little, chains scraping again against the floor to make the worst sort of unholy noise, grating on Michael’s frayed nerves, thankfully on the edge of what he was paying attention to. He was too focused on how warm Ashton’s hands were, fake blood splattered over them like he was supposed to look like he’d been clawing at himself. “You’re bruised,” Ashton said, inspecting Michael’s knuckles where they’d made contact with Ashton’s nose. “Or, you will be, at least. You didn’t hit as hard as you could have, so I think you’re okay.”

With Ashton tilted forward, it was easier to see that he was definitely still bleeding - which, fucking duh, it hadn’t been that long since he’d punched him - dripping slowly but steadily onto the floor. Noticing Michael’s gaze, probably, Ashton took a few steps back out of Michael’s space, head still tilted forward a little. He lightly pinched the bridge of his nose, giving Michael what was probably supposed to be a lazy half smile. 

“Should you- do you need help?” Michael asked lamely. It was a pretty fucking stupid question, since he’d literally just punched Ashton in the nose. And he was bleeding.

“It’s not that big a deal,” Ashton said, as calm and collected as he’d been the whole time. And fantastic, at least one of them was. “I’d go tell someone, but I’m a little bit stuck.” He raised his free hand, chains rattling a little bit. “I’m actually chained to the wall. Someone comes by and lets me out between every couple groups or every couple hours so I can use the bathroom and grab a drink and all that shit. I can’t get myself out on my own.”

“Oh, fuck.” Michael frowned. “That seems like a pretty big fuckin’, like design flaw. Who the fuck came up with that?”

Ashton laughed, short and sweet before he cut himself off, probably because his nose hurt. Which sent a jolt of regret and embarrassment through Michael. “There’s a lot of stuff like that for the sake of ‘authenticity’. Don’t tell anyone I told you, they’d have my head. I don’t mind too much, though. Only lasts two months every year, and it’s fun. Well, except for the occasional scare that goes too well.” He gestured at his face to prove his point, smile tugging slightly at his lips again before it dropped.

Michael didn’t get a chance to reply before someone came in, freezing at the sight of Ashton slightly tipped forward, nose still dripping, but much slower before, and Michael standing stiff and shocked in place. “Oh, fuck,” the stranger said, echoing Michael’s sentiments. “What the fuck happened?” 

“Well, Michael here got so startled when I jumped out that he hit me.” Ashton answered for the two of them. “We’re all good, he didn’t mean to. He’s been keeping me company.” He winked at Michael, making Michael’s face heat up, especially noticeable in the gloomy chill of the fake dungeon room. 

“Fuckin’ hell, man,” the strange guy said, immediately moving forward to free Ashton from the stupid chains. “So, you mean, the same shit you kept saying was gonna happen, happened?”

Ashton let out some sort of noise that was probably meant to be a laugh. “Yeah, pretty much exactly.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” the stranger said again, succeeding in freeing Ashton. He leaned in close to look at his nose, frowning. “Well. You definitely need to be cleaned up. You’re out of commission for tonight, we’ll just leave the room empty and the supervisors can suck my dick. Come on, let’s clean you up and get you an ice pack or something, and you can sit down for a while.” He wrapped an arm around Ashton, hand splayed out in the middle of his back. They were clearly comfortable with each other, and had the easy familiarity of close friends. Or something. The stranger nodded his head at Michael. “You, uh, Michael, was it? You can come with us, we’ll get you out.” He paused. “Unless you want to finish the house..? But I’m gonna take a wild guess and say probably not, after that.”

Michael startled a little at being addressed, temporarily forgetting he had a corporal form. “Oh. Uh. No, not really. I”m- that was enough, I think.”

The stranger nodded his head. “Makes sense. You kind of got separated from your group, it looks like. Usually people are in groups of two and three. You sort of had shitty luck tonight, huh?” He said it kindly, though. Like he was sympathetic. “My name’s Calum, by the way.”

“He’s not usually the responsible one,” Ashton teased, shooting Calum an amused look, only making Calum roll his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Ashton. You’re always Mr. Responsible. That’s why we’re going to patch up your boo boo.” Calum patted his back consolingly, shooting Michael a grin. “So is this your first time here?”

Michael glanced up, fingers pausing mid-tug where he’d been fiddling with his hoodie sleeves. “Oh. Yeah, it is. Uh. Always wanted to come but it’s hard to get in and last year I got stuck closing most days and couldn’t make it early enough.”

Calum nodded, like it was a solemn affair, or he was thinking. Michael’s ability to figure things out - he was pretty sure it was called perception, but it just proved his point - was absolutely shot through with his adrenaline. He was still waiting for someone to get pissed at him, to kick him out and ban him for life. “It’s a fun place, yeah. I can’t remember if I actually ever went through it before getting to work here and see ‘behind the scenes,’ but we get pretty good reviews.” Calum grinned. “I’d say a bloody nose means you’re pretty fuckin’ scary, Ash.”

Ashton let out a half laugh. “Yeah, I guess so. Or people scared shitless and blind in the dark don’t like jumpscares. One of the two.”

Calum had led them through a couple dark, narrow back hallways, clearly meant for the employees, the whole time they’d been chatting. They get to the doorway of a brighter-lit room and hear a woman gasp. “Oh, Ashton! What happened to you? Oh, god, it wasn’t those dicks from last night again, was it? I swear I’ll hunt them down-”

“No, it wasn’t,” Ashton consoled, stepping into the room where the woman started fawning over him, leaning up to inspect his face and make sure he was okay. Calum, letting her take over, gently nudged Michael out of view and stepped back into shadow with him.

“Look, Ashton’s a trooper, he’s okay,” Calum murmured, nothing but soothing sincerity in his eyes and coating his voice. “I promise. You seem pretty worried but, uh...The floor managers might not be too happy, you know? We’re missing our werewolf for the rest of the night, so the room will be empty...No one else gives a shit, I promise, I just mean that if you want to come back, you might want to leave before anyone figures it out, you know? Not personal at all.” He gave him a sweet smile that probably would’ve rendered Michael incoherent and weak-kneed any other time, but with his nerves as wired and burnt-out as they were, it only tugged at his anxiety-ridden heartstrings.

“Actually,” Calum continued, tilting his head, “I can get you a ticket or something for another night if you want to do this again.” He gave him a lopsided smile. “You know, as long as you don’t hit another actor again.” Michael assumed he must’ve looked panicked, because Calum was quick to console him. “Hey, hey, I’m kidding. Sorry, too soon.”

“Holy, fuck, Ashton, is that real?” Someone else asked, entering the room behind them.

Calum looked back at Michael, expression apologetic. “I’ve gotta- I’ll have to run damage control, Alisha - the girl - is nice but he’ll need, uh, help. Uh...The exit’s right through there, down the stairs, to the left. If you can get back before we open sometime, cut the line and ask for me. Uh. Calum. That should get you in.” Michael only realized Calum had put a hand on his arm at some point when he squeezed it gently and let go.

With another hasty apology, Calum had to return to Ashton and the whole mess Michael had caused. Michael stumbled on nerve-numb feet through the dark employee back-passageways, hearing the occasional shriek from the haunted house proper. He couldn’t help but berate himself and wish he’d done the entire fucking thing differently. And where the fuck had his friend been? Maybe he wouldn’t have been so nervous to begin with if the fucker had actually texted him back at some point. 

This whole thing had been social-anxiety massive-fuckup nightmare fuel. Seriously, Michael thought as he finally managed to make his way out of the stupid house into the city, shivering in the much-cooler nighttime air, this was going to haunt him for years. Let alone punching anyone in the first place - his hand still sort of hurt, though not a proper hurt, more like the vague ache wrapped in the anxiety-spiking memory of what he’d done - but punching an absolutely gorgeous guy in the face? Fucking hell. Worst thing he could think of.

It was still fresh on his mind as he tucked himself into bed, fresh from a shower as he’d tried to scrub the stupid memory off his skin. He just hoped he managed to actually get over this and it didn’t haunt him forever. Though, he’d been pretty fucking haunted when he’d gone to grab pizza and when the guy had said “enjoy your meal,” he’d said “you too, thanks, mum.” He hadn’t even realized his mistake until he’d gotten outside with his prized pizza. In his defense, he’d been texting his mom, and gotten mixed up. There wasn’t really a defense here.

Fuck. He really hoped this didn’t haunt him.  

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

Well. It haunted him. That first night had really, really sucked. Like...really sucked. It had taken ages to manage to fall asleep after that, since every time he tried, he was painfully reminded of the moment he hit Ashton right in the nose, and how awful that had felt. And everything afterward had just been an anxiety-fueled mess. 

He had class the day after, too, which really fucking sucked, but it meant he didn’t have to sit and dwell on every single mistake he’d ever made in his life. The biggest one was obviously his birth, followed very closely by hitting Ashton. He decided, though, by the end of that day, that he definitely wanted to go apologize again. Just because it hadn’t felt quite like enough just saying he was sorry. He needed to actually prove it somehow. Maybe. Or he was just an idiot. Only time would really tell. 

He got a gift card for the coffee shop where he worked, because he got a discount on it, and everyone liked coffee. Did Ashton like coffee? He really hoped he did. He was still kicking himself for not getting his number so he could make sure he was okay and apologize, but, in his own defense, everything had gone upside-down topsy-turvy really, really fast. 

He got down to the haunted house, still a while before it actually opened. He went straight to the front of the line, remembering Calum’s promise to get him in. Hopefully he could use the advice to apologize properly to Ashton. The guy at the front of the line was kind of a dick towards him, but Michael managed to find a worker in one of the designated t-shirts for the house. 

“Hey, uh, is Calum or Ashton here?” Michael asked, praying he didn’t seem near as awkward as he felt. He just wanted to apologize and leave before he embarrassed himself any further, that was all. Everything was fine. It was fine. 

“Oh, yeah. Are you one of their friends or something?” The guy glanced at him before shrugging. “Calum’s working customer service and merch. Come on, I’ll show you.” 

Michael followed the guy into the house, down a hallway that wasn’t super obvious, to what was clearly right after the exit of the house. There was a booth set up, shirts dangling from the top and displayed in the back, along with magnets and other sorts of merch along the table. Calum was sitting behind it, earbuds in, focused solely on his phone. The guy Michael had been following tapped on the table to get his attention, making Calum’s eyes snap up. He grinned over at Michael, pausing his music and tugging his earbuds out. 

“I’ve got to get back to the front, but this guy was asking for you and Ashton. You know him?”

Calum’s smile didn’t dissipate. It didn’t do much to sooth the suddenly overactive butterflies in Michael’s stomach. “Yeah, I do. I’m good, you can go.” The guy nodded and left, leaving Michael alone with Calum. 

“Hey,” Calum greeted, grinning again. “I wasn’t sure you’d come back. I was hoping you would. Are you here for the house?” His smile went coy. “Or for me?” He was clearly teasing, but Michael’s face flushed. 

“Uh. I- well. Uh. I came- well, I’m here to apologize. Yeah. To, uh. To Ashton. Again. For hitting him. I mean, by accident. I didn’t mean to.” And wow, way to be smooth. Michael just didn’t know how to function around cute guys at all. Especially not when they sounded like they could possibly be flirting with him, if they were on another planet, where people actually flirted with Michael. 

Calum just gave him another sweet smile, standing and leaning against the table. Michael definitely didn’t pay attention to the way Calum’s back arched, or the way he tilted his head sometimes without meaning to, or how good his jeans looked on him. He didn’t see any of that at all because he was a good person. He just..wasn’t blind. And Calum was cute. “Ashton’s fine. I think he’s working tonight, but I can shoot him a text.” Michael didn’t even have to reply before Calum was pulling his phone out of his back pocket and sending a text, presumably to Ashton. 

“The house opens soon,” Calum continued, “but we’ll see if we can get him up here.” He smiled a little. “You know, after you hit him by accident, they tested out some fake chains. They thought it worked great - until they did a test run, and Ashton broke them when he moved forward. Guess even plastic couldn’t hold up to his upper body strength, huh?” He smiled, eyes squinting a little when Michael flushed darker. Everything was absolutely, perfectly fine. 

Calum’s phone vibrated again and he checked it. “Oh, shit. He’s a bit hung up right now. You want to stick around for a minute and see if he can swing up here? I can give you a bit of a behind-the-scenes tour.” 

Michael considered but nodded. “Yeah, uh. That would be great.” His friend - who still hadn’t fucking gotten back with him, it had been two days, asshole - was supposed to do that when he’d originally come to the house. Better late than never, at least, even if he’d never gotten to actually make it through the haunted house proper. He just had to survive spending time with a super cute guy in the stupidly narrow employee hallways. 

Calum grinned again. “Great!” He slid over the top of the table, knocking a couple magnets to the floor. He glanced at them before shrugging. “I’ll deal with that when I’m back. Come on.” He grabbed Michael’s wrist, his hold warm and gentle, and lightly tugged him towards another hallway. “So what do you want to see first? How we put everything together? How we make a couple of the rooms function? Where we keep all the fog machines?”

“Uhhh……” That was….a lot of options. Michael honestly wasn’t sure where to start. The last comment earned Calum a laugh, short and a little nervous. “Anything?”

Calum nodded sagely, like Michael had made some interesting comment that could be considered, instead of fumbling over his words. “I’ll just start with the basic tour then.”

Calum tugged him into another room, launching into an explanation of how they put it together, and how it matched up with the other rooms in the house. He talked about how they had speakers in each room, and made sure the haunted house genuinely felt like an old rundown mansion with a stone basement. The next room was every bit as interesting, if a bit colder.

“That,” Calum explained, “would be because we keep one of the fog machines in this false wall.” He knocked on it, the sound hollower than a real wall would have made. “It adds to the vibe.”

Michael just agreed that it did, in fact, add to the general vibe of the haunted house, unsure what else to say to that. 

“You know,” Calum said, eyes lighting up a little when he smiled, bright and mischievous, “I’m pretty sure they spent most of the decorating budget on the fog machines. In order to get the light fog in the dungeons, we had to keep one every couple rooms. And then the one in the front room, so people know we’re spooky.” He wiggled his fingers with his free hand, his other hand still warm on Michael’s wrist where he hadn’t let go yet.

Michael laughed, earning another triumphant smile from Calum. “That sounds right,” he said honestly. The basement - or what little he’d seen of it, at least - had definitely been neat, with the very light fog swirling around his ankles. He just hadn’t really made it that far.

And, like Calum was a mindreader, he almost immediately said “Hey, you didn’t finish the house, right? Want to get a tour of the basement? I can show you where I had to use Klorox wipes to get Ashton’s blood off the floor.” Another grin, clearly amused with himself.

“Uh...Yeah, okay, that sounds good,” Michael said, ever so eloquent. Being in the presence of a pretty guy did not help him at all, only serving to shut down any critical thinking skills he’d ever had.

“Great! This way-” Calum started to gently lead him out of the room, hand still warm on Michael’s wrist in the chill of the room, before he was interrupted by his phone buzzing. “Fuck, what now?” He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, which Michael found impressive given how stupidly tight they were. Calum let out a huff, letting go of Michael’s wrist so he could send a text back. “Fuckin’ hell. I’m gonna have to go.” He gave Michael a look that really looked like apologetic puppy dog eyes, but Calum somehow pulled it off. “We’re letting in the first group soon. I’ve gotta go back to my booth.”

“Oh, shit.” Michael was pretty sure that was the right response. He was still distracted by the smiles Calum had flashed him just moments before. Sue him, his weakness was cute guys, okay? And social interaction. Especially social interaction with aforementioned cute guys. Like Calum.

“I’m sorry. I guess Ashton will be wrapped up in that, too.” Calum frowned, thinking for a moment. “Are you free tomorrow?”

Michael flushed, a natural reply to being asked that by A Cute Guy. “Uh. Yeah. I have class in the morning, but I’m free after.”

Calum grinned again. “Great. Swing by here again? You can ask for either me or Ashton. We’ll get you taken care of, don’t worry.” He winked at Michael, smile still on his face. Michael felt himself flush deeper, praying it wasn’t too visible in the dim lighting of the haunted house.

“Yeah, uh, okay. I can...I can do that.” Maybe he was reassuring himself a little bit. But it would be fun. Calum led him back out of the room, his hand going to the small of Michael’s back, warm even through his hoodie. If Michael’s blush had faded, that brought it back full force. Calum’s hand dropped once they were back in the hallway, but his hand brushed Michael’s on every other step as he led him back to the front, to the area where Calum’s merch booth was.

“Here we are. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Calum asked, expression earnest. He squatted to pick up a couple of the magnets and buttons that he’d knocked to the floor earlier. Michael definitely didn’t glance at his butt, because he was a very nice person, and very good at resisting things. 

“Yeah, I’ll, uh, I’ll be here.” Michael was completely fucking incapable of going one sentence without stumbling over his words. It was annoying. It was like being near any attractive guy whatsoever made his brain completely short circuit and stop working. He was pretty sure he just suffered from Dumb Bitch-itis or whatever. It was fine.

After a quick goodbye, Michael made his way to the exit and started the walk back home again. He couldn’t say that excursion was really a failure but he still hadn’t done what he’d meant to do. How many cute guys could work there, anyway? That had to be it. So hopefully he’d function properly next time he had to go, even if Calum and Ashton both completely shut his brain down. The gift card was still in his pocket, even as he reluctantly shucked his outside-hoodie to switch to his sleeping-hoodie. At least this time he didn’t have too much to haunt him before he fell asleep.

Except punching Ashton, his brain helpfully supplied. And with that, his hopes for some peaceful sleep went out the window, just like his critical thinking skills had earlier when he’d had to talk to Calum.

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

Michael prayed that this was the last time he’d have to go to the house. He didn’t dislike it, honestly, it was interesting and incredibly well put together. But he really just wanted to apologize to Ashton and have the whole thing be done with. Or, half of him did, at least. He hated when things got drawn out like this, and something hung over his head. He didn’t like feeling like he owed any debts at all. The other half of him, though, kind of didn’t want it to be over. Because then he wouldn’t get to see Calum or Ashton again. And alright, maybe he was a bit of an emotional masochist knowing that they wouldn’t like him but it was...nice, kind of, hanging out with people. And he wasn’t going to complain about getting to hang out with cute guys. Like...ever.

The thing was, though, it wasn’t like he could really be friends with them. He’d fucking punched Ashton right in the face for fuck’s sake. The friendship ship had long since sailed, and he’d lost any chance of talking to him like a functional person as soon as he’d panicked and hit him. Which sort of destroyed any chances he had in befriending Calum. And maybe he was a little bit lonely, and tired of spending all his free time by himself. The cute guys at the haunted house were a no-go, though, so he wanted to be done with them as soon as he could be.

Michael tugged his hoodie back on, and made his way back out into the outside world, where people weren’t so kind, and there were cute boys to accidentally hit and regret your entire life over. He didn’t want to think about having to talk to Ashton again, or Calum, doing his best to save all of his brain power for actually having to socialize, rather than wasting it on indulging his anxiety now.

He cut through the line again, though it was a bit earlier this time, so it wasn’t as long as it had been, and made his way to the front of the house. One of the workers, in the same haunted house shirts he’d see the others in the days before, stopped him.

“I’m here for Ashton?” Michael said, still not entirely sure of himself, like this wasn’t the second time he’d come back to the house and had to ask for them. “Or Calum.”

The girl glanced Michael up and down quickly, seeming to assess whether or not he was telling the truth. And really, why the fuck would he bother lying? He wasn’t even really trying to get into the house, but apologize fully to Ashton so he could hopefully stop being haunted by the memory of his major fuck-up.

“Alright, come on,” she said, turning on her heel and leading him inside. He followed her back through the room Calum had been stationed in the day before, the merch booth left empty, now, no cute guys with equally cute smiles there to drag him through the maze of the house.

The girl led her down a couple hallways Michael definitely didn’t remember, but he really hadn’t been paying as much attention to the hallways of all things the last time he’d been there. But he was pretty sure he didn’t remember any of this. Which was only reaffirmed when she stopped in a doorframe. “Luke,” she called in, hand on the doorframe. “This guy’s asking for Calum and Ashton. I’m busy downstairs. Can you try and track them down for him?” 

Michael could see over her shoulder, but couldn’t see who she was talking to. Luke gave her some form of affirmative, he guessed, because then she was turning back to look at him. “Right. You stay here with Luke. He should be able to find Calum and Ashton. You can wait with him. Good luck.” She turned and headed off back down a couple narrow hallways, leaving Michael more confused than he had been before she’d tried to help.

“Come in, I don’t bite,” came a guy’s voice from the other side of the room. Michael reluctantly shuffled in, already tugging his hoodie sleeves down over his hands. How many times was he going to be shuffled from person to person before he managed to actually give Ashton his stupid gift card and go back to his life of reclusivity, hidden away in his single dorm room. Then he’d finally get to forget how massively he’d fucked up, and not have to think about all the stupidly cute boys that worked at the stupid haunted house.

The room had several chairs set up, with a couple of tables cluttered with a bunch of weird bottles, makeup palettes, and gallons of stage blood. It was empty, except for a girl sitting in one of the chairs, and a guy working on her makeup. He was tall, with ridiculously long legs, and his blond curls pulled back into a small bun, messy, with flyaways wisping around his temples and a couple strands of hair in his eyes when he flashed Michael a quick smile. “Alright,” the guy said, pulling back to inspect his work. “You’re good to go. But maybe try not to fuck up your chest wound next time? It’s not so easy to fix.” She murmured some sort of agreement - and what sounded like an apology - before heading back out, probably to wherever she was supposed to be stationed.

The guy turned to Michael and flashed him a smile, tucking his brush behind his ear and wiping his hands on his thighs before offering one to Michael. “I’m Luke. But, uh, I think you already knew that.” His smile went a little sheepish. Michael just shook his hand, internally cursing himself for having cute boys as a major weakness. Because Luke was definitely cute.

“I’m Michael,” he said, because he was pretty sure he hadn’t yet, and it seemed like the proper time for an introduction. His brain might short circuit a little bit around cute boys, but he didn’t completely forget everything. Usually. Not yet, at least. He was just hoping to keep at least a fraction of his critical thinking skills. So he didn’t end up hitting him in the face, his brain supplied helpfully, even though that had only ever been the one time, and under very different circumstances. It didn’t make him feel much better.

Luke broke into a smile almost immediately, letting out a laugh - more of a giggle, really - that made his nose crinkle. “You’re the guy that punched Ashton,” he said, eyes crinkling a little with amusement. “Holy shit. You’re a legend.”

Michael flushed, feeling his whole face heat up, even though the room was just as chilly as the rest of the haunted house. “Uh. Maybe just a little. The one time.” He scuffed the toe of his sneaker against the ground, suddenly a little nervous. Or...more nervous. Luke was just as cute as the others had been, stray glitter stuck to his hands (and Michael’s palm, now, after he’d shook his hand), and his hair in that stupidly endearing bun. And apparently he knew about the biggest fuck up in Michael’s entire life, which really wasn’t all that good for his already not so fantastic self esteem. 

Luke nodded, still looking only a couple seconds from laughing. “The one time. Yeah. Ashton thought it was hilarious. It worked out, though, he got the rest of the day off, and convinced them to fix his position so it hopefully wouldn’t happen again. Well, I mean, they mostly agreed that he could keep his phone on him as long as it was silent so he could call Calum or something to come get him if something happened. But he counted it as a win.”

 Luke leaned against the table, hip causing a couple bottles to fall over. Luke flushed, pink covering his pale skin, as he rushed to sort everything out, right all of the bottles. He knocked one of them off the table, squatting down to grab it and smacking his head against the edge of the table on his way back up. It knocked the brush from behind his ear, which hit the floor with a quiet clatter. Luke managed to stand up properly, though, his face red, and clearly flustered. “Um. Anyway. So you- Uh.” He shook his head, more curls coming free of his bun and dancing around his temples when he moved. “Ashton wasn’t upset, you’re okay. He’s kind of hard to rattle. Calum and him have been joking about it, mostly. They just didn’t mention you were cute.”

Michael had watched Luke’s moment with the bottles, eyebrows furrowed in concern, but he hadn’t wanted to overstep. He’d gotten it sorted, anyway, and his head seemed fine. So he didn’t ask, just watched him with the same slightly cautious expression. Luke’s last sentence threw him off, though, and it was Michael’s turn to flush, staring at Luke a few beats longer than socially acceptable. “Oh, uh- you think- I’m not- I’m pretty, just, you know- uh. Thank you. You’re- the same. Cute. I mean.”

Luke laughed, soft and gentle and warm, meant to be with him rather than at him. Michael’s blush darkened, but he didn’t feel quite so bad about being an absolute idiot. “Thank you,” he said, head tilting a little to the side, smile back on his face. Luke was tall. Taller than Calum and Ashton had been, enough to make Michael aware of the difference. No wonder he’d been clumsy, though he’d seemed to have reclaimed his grace now, lanky limbs seeming only to add to his charm and poise rather than detract from it now that his footing was stable and no bottles were falling on the floor. 

“So why’d you come back, again?” Luke asked, yanking Michael out of his reverie. He’d moved to straighten some of the bottles and makeup palettes cluttered on the table. He glanced at Michael before his eyes shifted back to what he was doing. And yeah, that was definitely stray gold glitter stuck to his hands, front and back. 

“Oh. Uh. I wanted to say sorry to Ashton again. I just...haven’t been able to catch him. Came back yesterday and same thing.” Michael tugged at one of his hoodie sleeves, watching Luke’s long fingers tighten what looked like a tall bottle of latex. And okay, maybe he’d watched a few too many behind the scenes videos of his favourite horror movies, and wasn’t completely brand new to SFX stuff. 

Luke glanced up at him again, interest in his blue eyes and all over his face. His hands paused where they were. “You were here yesterday?”

“Uh. Yeah? I was just with Calum for a while but then he got some text and I didn’t get a chance to see Ashton before I had to leave.” He didn’t know what about that was so interesting, but whatever. At least he wasn’t tripping over his words now and could talk to Luke like a proper functioning human being. 

Luke hummed but didn’t offer an explanation for asking. “Do you want me to do your makeup or something while you wait?” He asked, as random and out of nowhere as anything. 

“What?” Michael asked, brows drawing together again. He was pretty sure Luke hadn’t said what he thought he’d said. 

“Do you want me to do your makeup while you’re waiting?” He repeated, gaze as earnest as ever. He wasn’t lying. 

“I mean, holy shit, yeah,” Michael said, maybe just a tad too eager. Get his makeup done by a makeup artist at the haunted house that had won awards for SFX? Hell fucking yeah! He wasn’t turning that opportunity down. Hopefully it went better than attending the haunted house had. 

Luke beamed, looking absolutely pleased with himself. “Okay, come over here and sit down and I will. Do you want, like, a cut or something? I have a couple spare prosthetic injuries I could use. I know I can’t do the missing eye one on you, you can’t really see in that one. I have a couple of the small claw ones, like I think I used on Ashton? If you want some of those.”

“Uh. Yeah, that works.” Michael made his way over and sat down in the chair, shifting a little bit. He’d never really had his makeup done before, but he was more excited to get to see someone do SFX up close. On him. 

“Can you pull the hoodie off?” Luke asked over his shoulder, starting to sort through his supplies. “I need more space. I can do it right below your collarbone, I think. That’s enough space. With Ashton, I think I slotted some at the top of one of his pecs and then some on his ribs, on his side.” 

Michael flushed but tugged his hoodie off, getting his head stuck in the stupid thing only momentarily, before it was off and he could ball it up in his lap. Luke turned back to look at him, humming softly to himself. He tugged his hair free from the bun, curls falling freely to frame his face, before pulling it right back again. Just like before, curls too short to fit in the bun curled around his temples and his ears. Luke ignored it, stepping closer with the small prosthetic in hand. 

He hummed a little again, eyeing Michael’s collarbones and chest. He tugged the neckline of Michael’s shirt down a little bit, holding the prosthetic up, just below his collarbone as he’d said. “This should work pretty well. Has anyone ever done makeup on you before?” Luke turned to grab something else, probably his adhesive, before turning back and frowning. “It might be easier, since I’ll need both hands for this. You can put it back on afterward, it’ll sit right above your neckline. Right here.” Luke tapped a finger lightly where he planned on putting the prosthetic.

Michael flushed. “Uh. Yeah, okay, I guess.” He really wasn’t used to this. Going shirtless in front of a cute guy? Yeah, that really didn’t happen. Like, ever. He reluctantly tugged his shirt off, though, still not about to turn this opportunity down. The shirt joined his hoodie, both balled up in his lap. He was rewarded with a sweet smile from Luke, before he was surveying the area he wanted to stick the prosthetic, which did little to help Michael’s blush.

“This might be a little bit cold. It’s room temperature, kind of.” Luke started applying the adhesive, completely in Michael’s personal space. “So did you like the house?” He asked, fanning the adhesive with his hand, gaze shifting to Michael’s face. “When you came? Before the thing with Ashton, I mean.”

“Yeah, I did. Uh. I’ve been wanting to come here for years, and I finally got to get a look. I really, really like horror shit, and thought about being an SFX artist but I don’t have the talent at all.” Michael resisted the urge to shift in place, or bounce his leg. He didn’t want to fuck up whatever Luke was doing. “It’s, uh, really well put together. No wonder it’s won awards and shit.”

Luke hummed, tapping the adhesive before grabbing the prosthetic and leaning down, tongue sticking out a little in concentration, as he carefully stuck it down. He held it in place for a moment, pulling back to inspect his work. He moved to grab one of his makeup palettes. “Yeah, it’s a lot of work to pull it together and get everything set up properly. But I can get out of some of it sometimes, since I do makeup.” He grinned at him before starting to add colour to the prosthetic. “You wanted to do SFX?” His gaze flickered up to him again, before again it dropped to what he was doing. “I could always show you some stuff, if you wanted. I’ve been doing it for a couple years, so I think I’d probably be okay at that.”

“Didn’t you guys win something last year for your makeup?” He asked, tilting his head a little bit.

Luke turned pink. “Well, yeah, but that wasn’t just me, that was the whole team. But, um. If you wanted that, I definitely could.”

It was then that it really clicked what Luke was offering. This was a chance for Michael to actually get hands-on experience with SFX and get to see it up close. Not only that, but he’d get the chance to actually do it himself, with someone else’s guidance, and see if he was actually shit at it. And that someone happened to be award winning. And really cute. “Fuck yeah, I definitely want that.” Okay, he needed to curb his excitement. Just a little.

Luke let out another one of his giggles, still working on the colouring of the prosthetic. “Okay. I’m happy to show you. I’ll get your number when I’m done? So we can set up a time?”

Michael definitely didn’t turn pink at that or anything. He was totally suave, totally used to getting cute guys’ numbers, especially while he was shirtless in front of them. Obviously. And maybe that was a little bit of a lie, and this was brand new. And maybe he was a little bit pink. “Uh. Yeah, that sounds good.”

Luke hummed, attention mostly back on the prosthetic. He was silent for a few moments before he spoke up again. “You said you wanted to do SFX. So what do you do instead?”

“Oh, I’m a film student. I work at, uh, Great Awakenings? The coffee shop a couple blocks down from here on campus.” Michael, again, had to resist the urge to shift around in place. Not because it felt weird, but because he didn’t know what to do with himself, or his nervous energy. He couldn’t even tap his foot or anything on the ground, for fear of fucking up what Luke was doing. 

“Oh, that’s neat! I’m doing philosophy right now. Ashton’s doing English. Focusing on literature, I think. And Calum’s doing psychology,” Luke flashed Michael a bright smile before going back to his work, still carefully adding pigment to the prosthetic. 

“Oh, that’s, uh...pretty cool. What made you choose philosophy?” Michael asked. 

Luke hummed a little to himself. “I dunno. Just thought it seemed interesting. I’m pretty happy doing this, but I don’t know if I can make a career out of it. Or if my skills are even enough to try.” He paused. “I know I’m good enough to work here, I just don’t know about beyond that,” he corrected, fingers stilling where they’d been working. It only took a moment before he was back at it again. 

Michael understood that, honestly. “Yeah, I know what you mean. That’s why I’m in film. I don’t know how far I’ll make it, either,” he said honestly. 

Luke gave him a frown, more adorable than it had any right being. “I’m sure you’ll be good at it, Mikey.”

Michael flushed at the nickname, but didn’t have any time to add anything before Luke was turning around to face the table. “Okay, I just have blood and then I’m done.” Luke grabbed the bottle and a tiny brush, turning around to face Michael yet again. He gave him a tiny smile before he was back to work, tongue poking slightly from between his lips in concentration. 

Luke was pretty. Michael was struggling to think about anything else, even with how desperately he wanted to do SFX, and how much he’d wanted to visit the haunted house. It only took a few minutes before Luke pulled back slightly, surveying his work. Good thing, too, Michael was starting to get chilly. “Okay,” he said, eyes still on the prosthetic, forehead creased slightly, lips pulled into a small pout. He looked thoughtful. Michael refused to admit it was adorable. “I think I’m done.” He gave Michael another smile, nose crinkling slightly with this one. 

Michael’s number one weakness was definitely still cute boys, because his brain short circuited immediately. He was saved from having to say anything, though, when a girl poked her head in the door, knocking twice on the doorframe to get Luke’s attention. “Hey, house’s opening in a few. Stand by in case of any fucked up makeup.” Luke just nodded, and then she left. 

Luke frowned a little at Michael. “Okay, you’ll probably have to go before we officially open and groups start coming through. I might get busy, and we aren’t supposed to have visitors.” Luke chewed at his lip, thinking. “Okay. Uh.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket - Michael didn’t know how he fit anything in his pants pockets, they were stupidly tight and didn’t look all that comfortable - and offered it to Michael. “Give me your number? I’ll text you and figure the whole Ashton thing out so you can say sorry to him or whatever. And then I can show you how to do makeup.”

Michael nodded, taking the outstretched phone from Luke and obediently putting his number in. “That, uh, sounds really great. Thanks, Luke.” He passed his phone back and earned another smile from Luke that definitely didn’t make his stomach flip. Michael went ahead and tugged his shirt  back on, careful not to fuck up his new prosthetic. 

“Okay, sweet. Can you find your way out or do you want me to show you?” Luke asked, as sweet as he’d been the whole time. 

Michael shook his head at the offer, though. “I’m okay. I can get out. Thanks, though. I’ll...I’ll catch you around?”

Luke gave him another smile. “Yeah. See you, Mikey.”

Michael made his way out of the haunted house for the third time, hoodie balled up in his hands despite the evening chill so he didn’t get fake blood on it. And maybe he stopped in front of the mirror once he got home to look at his makeup, stupid grin on his face remembering Luke (and the other cute boys that worked there). And maybe, just maybe, that was the first night since he’d punched Ashton that he didn’t seriously struggle to sleep. 

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

Michael had almost forgotten the whole dilemma, when he woke up to a text from Luke. The phone screen was stupidly blinding in the darkness of his bedroom, and he cursed himself for bothering to check his phone in the first place. To be fair, though, he’d only wanted to see the time - he slept with his phone on do not disturb for this very purpose - he hadn’t expected the text.

Luke H: hey, r u free 2day? :-)

Michael stared at the text, blinking sleep out of his eyes, before he managed to get his brain to function enough to reply. And of fucking course Luke added a nose to his emojis. He might have only met the guy once, but it definitely seemed like a Luke thing to do.

Michael: yeah I should be. y?

Michael didn’t have a chance to even roll over before Luke had replied, phone buzzing again in his hand. Did Luke have nothing better to do? It had to be fucking early in the morning, and Michael’s main priority was going back to sleep. Though, in Luke’s defense, it usually was.

Luke H: no reason

Luke H: can u meet me at that coffee shop @ 1 later 2day? 

Luke wasn’t making any more sense, even with his clarifications. And Michael was way too tired to think too much about his cryptic messages. So he just agreed.

Michael: yeah

His phone buzzed again, seconds after he’d hit send. Did Luke have nothing better to do than text Michael at fucking nine am on a Saturday morning? Didn’t he know how to sleep in?

Luke H: great :-)

Michael tossed his phone to the side with a sigh, resolving himself to being awake way, way too early. This wasn’t usually how he spent his mornings; normally, he slept in until noon if he didn’t have work, and spent the day catching up on homework he didn’t feel like doing during the week, and finished the day with pizza and a few rounds of FIFA. He didn’t usually meet cute boys at the coffee chop, for god knows what reason, and he usually didn’t wake up so fucking early.

The rest of his day passed slowly, starting with two cups of coffee to try and keep himself awake and functional. He could hear his mum in his head, reminding him that nine am isn’t even that early, that most people were already awake and functional by that point. So he just shook his head and told his imaginary mum to piss off, and that he wasn’t most people.

He managed to waste most of the day away until he was already running late to meet Luke. He tugged on a hoodie that he’d only worn once that week, making it objectively cleaner than most of his other ones.

By the time he made it to the coffee shop, he was a couple minutes past one. Which was fine, it was pretty standard for Michael. He never really knew what time it was, but he tried his best. At least he was only a couple minutes late this time. Hopefully Luke didn’t mind too much.

Speaking of the devil, Luke had taken a seat in the corner and, when Michael spotted him, was mid-laugh at something Ashton had said to him. Ashton, who was sitting right next to him, grin on his lips. Oh, fuck. Had Michael just been invited to fucking third wheel them or something? You could third wheel a friendship. Michael knew that, from trailing after a pair of best friends when he was a kid, before he’d just decided to be a loner for the rest of his life. But they seemed awfully cuddly now, too. Maybe they’d just invited him to laugh at him.

Or, the much smaller rational part of his brain pointed out, maybe Luke had invited Ashton since Michael had wanted to apologize to him again and had never gotten the chance. Maybe Luke was just being nice.

Michael just did his best to shove all those thoughts aside. There was no point in freaking himself out now that he was already here. Better to just figure out what Luke had planned and get it over with. Or enjoy it, maybe. Maybe. 

Michael made his way over to their table, awkwardly taking his seat in front of them. Luke turned and gave him a bright, happy smile. “Hey, you made it!” He greeted, clearly pleased. “I went ahead and brought Ashton, I hope you don’t mind. You said you wanted to apologize, and we both think you’re pretty cute, so-” Ashton smiled fondly, but nudged Luke anyway.

“Don’t freak him out right after he gets here,” Ashton chided gently. He gave Michael that warm smile, shifting in his chair. “Hey, Michael. Good to see you again.”

Michael nodded a little, socialization abilities immediately leaving him. “You look good,” he said, before flushing. “No, you don’t. I mean - fuck - I don’t mean that, I mean you look good now that you’re not covered in blood. Or, you looked good then too. Well, not really, because I hit you in the nose-” Michael snapped his mouth shut. “I mean, it’s good to see you too.”

Ashton just laughed, good naturedly, but Michael was pretty sure he was one fuck-up away from them hating him. Still, though, his laugh managed to calm some of that built-up nervousness he was holding on to.

“You look good too, no worries,” Ashton said, corner of his mouth pulling up into a smile. 

Michael just nodded a little, steeling himself before he spoke. “I’m, uh. Really sorry about hitting you. I didn’t mean to at all, and still don’t know how I managed to fuck up that badly.”

Ashton gave him another smile. Luke was busy fiddling with one of his curls, clearly only half paying attention to the conversation, if at all. “It’s okay. Really. You didn’t do any lasting damage, and you didn’t mean to. I’m fine now, and it made the managers have to reconsider the position. Besides, it just meant Calum and Luke were a little overprotective for a few days. I’m fine now, but they were worried for a couple days about bruising and possible lasting damage. You should really be apologizing to Luke for having to deal with blood.” Michael must have looked confused, because Ashton continued. “I don’t know why, but it freaks him out. He’s fine with all the SFX shit, he’s okay with gruesome fake injuries and fake blood, but any time there’s real blood? He freaks out.”

Luke abandoned his curl, tucking it behind his ear, to pout at Ashton. “Hey. I just don’t like it.” 

Ashton gave him another stupidly fond smile and draped an arm over the back of Luke’s chair. “I know.” Michael felt like he was third wheeling, again. Which, okay, Ashton and Luke were cute, but he couldn’t help the way his stomach dropped a little. He’d thought they were pretty cute, and he hadn’t deluded himself into thinking anything would happen with either of them. But it didn’t really make it feel much better to realize he was third wheeling.

Sometime into his quiet sulking (which only could’ve lasted a minute or two at most), Calum had come up behind him, because now he was pulling out the chair next to him. Michael was effectively caged in now by attractive guys. Which, okay, was manageable. If his brain would stay functional. At least now he wasn’t third wheeling Luke and Ashton by himself anymore.

“Hey,” Calum greeted all of them, smiling in the way that made his cheeks squish up and his eyes squint. And okay, yeah, Michael definitely needed to get back into the dating world. 

“Hey,” Luke said, brightening a little again at the sight of Calum. “Michael came.”

Calum nodded, giving Luke the same fond smile Ashton had. “I can see that, babe.”

Luke reached his hand across the table, towards Calum. Calum took it, gently squeezing his hand. And fucking great, had Michael gone from third wheeling to fourth wheeling? Was fourth wheeling even a fucking thing? It clearly was, if what he was thinking was correct. Because Calum, Luke, and Ashton seemed awfully fucking close - Calum had just called Luke babe, for Christ’s sake - and he was pretty fucking sure they were all dating. Or involved together in some way. So why fucking bother inviting Michael if they were going to act like that? It wasn’t like he thought it was a date or anything, but it seemed...rude to just be all couple-y with a fourth person there.

“I’ve gotta take a call,” Michael said, and the excuse to step out sounded lame even to his own ears. But it had seemed like they’d been...maybe not flirting with him, but flirty, and he felt pretty fucking awkward fourth wheeling them the way he was doing. So he wanted an excuse to step outside for a moment and breathe. He pushed his chair back, wincing at the noise it made, and awkwardly stumbled outside of the door. The bell above the door chimed as he did, which did nothing for his annoyance. 

He took a few steps to the side, so he wasn’t in anyone’s way if they tried to go into the little coffee shop. He leaned back against the wall with a sigh, forgetting his excuse, and completely forgetting that he should probably at least pretend to be on the phone. Even if his phone hadn’t been ringing in the first place.

His melodramatic inner monologue of suffering was interrupted by the stupid bell chiming again. It earned enough of his attention to look up. And none other than Luke was standing there in front of him, apologetic smile on his face. “Hi,” Luke said, making his way a little closer.

“Hey,” Michael said, a little unsure.

“I just, uh...I’m sorry,” Luke said, fidgeting a little in place. His gaze shifted down to his feet, where he was absently scuffing the toe of his converse against his other foot. “I should have warned you about us. We just...it’s still kind of new, telling people, and we all...well, we all thought you were really cute, and I thought the rest of it would be easy if I managed to get you here. But life isn’t really like the movies, and I was kind of a dick to not at least warn you. Ashton said I should have, and he was right. I should have.” 

Wait...what? Michael was left reeling a little. At least he wasn’t fucking crazy, and he’d been right about the three of them being together. Or, that was what it sounded like, at least. But the rest of it? What did Luke mean by them thinking he was cute? What the fuck? Why did Luke have to be so cryptic? “What?”

Michael was pretty sure Luke blushed. He just scuffed his toe against the ground again, before making eye contact. “I’m dating Calum and Ashton. Or, we’re all dating each other. Um...and we thought you were cute. We think you’re cute. And I fucked up and should have explained all of that earlier. So you didn't, uh...get blindsided by it when you got here.”

Well, that was...a lot. And unexpected. “So...is this a date or something?”

Luke shrugged. “It is if you want it to be.”

Michael considered that for a moment. Did he want it to be? He’d never dated more than one person before - hadn’t really dated many people in general, honestly. But he didn’t dislike the idea. He had gotten along with all of them individually pretty well...and they were already established, right? So maybe it would be easier for him to just join that. Maybe. “I think so, yeah.” He nodded a little.

Luke grinned, shoulders sagging a little with relief as. “Great! I’m sure we’ll talk about everything soon. Like, boundaries and limits and telling other people and the future and stuff like that. Ashton and Calum are pretty good about all that.” Luke reached for Michael’s hand, and he took it, letting Luke lace their fingers together. “For now, though, let’s go get coffee.” Luke tugged him back into the coffee shop, a triumphant grin on his lips. Michael couldn’t help the smile he gave him, just as fond as the ones Calum and Ashton had worn earlier. Something about Luke’s happiness was just...contagious and sweet. It made you happy to see him so happy.

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

The relationship ended up working out like a fucking dream. Michael had never felt so supported in his life, and he was pretty sure his boyfriends felt the same way. After the initial coffee date, they’d gotten themselves established, and talked about what they wanted and what they wanted the relationship to look like, and the future, just like Luke had said. And, to absolutely no one’s surprise, the conversation was guided by Ashton.

Telling his mum had arguably been the hardest part, but even that was made a little easier with their support. Answering her questions hadn’t been fun - he’d deflected the over-the-line questions, as anyone else would, and flat out refused anything rude - but they’d gotten it taken care of, and she’d been about as accepting as Michael could have hoped.

As promised, they managed to get Michael a job at the haunted house the following year. One of the managers had gotten fired after the incident with Ashton - not that that had been the cause, but he’d been a massive dick about it, according to Calum and Luke, and it hadn’t been a good look, so he’d gotten canned - which let Calum get a promotion. Ashton was happy to stick with being an actor. As long as, he’d said when they’d broken the news to Michael, stupid grin on his face, no one else punched him in the face. He didn’t want another boyfriend. It had earned him three eye rolls, and three fond smiles, from each of his stupidly indulgent boyfriends.

But it had meant there was an opening for the merch stand, and Michael would get three glowing reviews. So they’d managed to get him the job. And, Calum had reminded them at the time, pleased smile on his face, they had a lot of sway with one of the managers.

So after everything got settled, Michael’s life was the best it had ever been. He had three loving, supportive, wonderful boyfriends, a job he loved, and date night every Friday. Even if he was working, they were happy to come sit and entertain him until he was off. He didn’t feel left out with them anymore, either; after that first time, they’d gotten it sorted, and were quick to comfort and console him.

Ashton never fucking let him live down the way they met, though. He made dad jokes about it as often as they let him - “watch out for Michael, he packs a punch,” “ah, Michael’s got quite the feisty personality,” “Michael’s really got a nose for this sort of thing. He fucked up mine, so it’s only fair, I suppose” - which was way, way too often, given how bad they all were. Michael couldn’t even bring himself to care, though. Not when accidentally punching him in the face had been the one thing to pull his life together. Ashton’s dad jokes were definitely worth all of that.

[nonstoplover]

all that i know ~ Dylan O’Brien (song drabble)

my masterlist │my song drabbles

song used as inspiration: cian ducrot ~ all that i know

words: 4.1K

approximate reading time: about 20-25 mins

a/n: well, ever since i found this guy a few months back on tiktok (i know, i know) and listened to his music for the first time, i've been in love. his voice, the melodies and words he sings... whenever i hear one of his songs, i get breathless and just have to stop and listen. gorgeous. yeah and this one's my favourite at the moment. so today i heard it and decided to write something based on it because it's too beautiful not to, with the first person i ever fell in love with, mr dylan o'brien himself. so here you go, lovelies, i hope you like it xx

Alex - or is his name Adam? (y/n) can't remember - reaches up and threads his fingers through his light brown hair, and the movement reminds her of Dylan. He always did the same thing, in the exact same way. It makes her heart clench and she has to turn her eyes away and think of something else before the tears gathering in her eyes would overflow and roll down her cheeks.

The young man sitting opposite to her doesn't even notice her sudden change of behaviour and it hurts her even more. Dylan always noticed.

No!

Stop!

She can't sit around thinking about Dylan every other second. What they had is over now and her heart and mind have to finally accept it. Even if it's hard. Even if it seems impossible at the moment. She can't go on remembering him from every single thing she sees or hears.

This is the third date she agreed to go on, all blind dates with guys her best friend found her. She doesn't even know why she agreed though to be honest, she's truly not in the mood for going on dates. Even if it has been three months already since their breakup.

Soon she'll have to excuse herself with something like 'sorry i don't feel so well' and call an Uber to go home, just like she did the previous two dates. It makes her feel a little bad, because the guys she's met were all nice and she doesn't want them to think the night ending as a failure is their fault, but she also knows that she can't sit around faking smiles for much longer.

Five minutes later she speaks the exact words she planned in her mind to use out loud, already grabbing her purse and coat. She can't stand the disappointed surprise that appears in the guy's eyes and when he moves his fingers to his hair again, she swiftly turns her head away.

Within a minute she's standing on the street, breathing in the cold, early spring night air, feeling it fill her lungs. She already feels much better, not having to see that hand movement again.

Why is it so hard?

She decides it'll be better to walk and have her mind cleared up a bit and she puts on her playlist to have something to divert her mind from subconsciously going back to thinking about Dylan. Thought she's not more than halfway through her walk when she eventually regrets that decision, when an all too familiar song starts playing.

She hurries to pull her phone back out from her pocket and switch to another song, but her fingers shake too much and she almost drops the device. The more she hears from that song, the more she feels panic rise in her chest. She's clearly not ready to hear it. Not yet.

It was their song from day one. They listened to it so much that they could pinpoint all the smallest details nobody other than the songwriters and producers would have noticed. And they never grew tired of it. If anything, they only loved it more and more each time it played. Often they spent their free nights just dancing around the living room, letting the sounds of the song softly fill the room.

Her heartbeat is racing by now, and she has to stop and place a hand against the cold wall of the building next to her to keep her steady. She glances down, watching as her pointer finger hovers above the screen. It almost touches it, right where the button which would skip to the next song lays, and it visibly shakes, but she just can't finish the movement.

In her mind, she's back in time, dancing in his arms. She can even almost feel the carpet under her feet. The warmth of their shared apartment on her skin, because they always kept the heating on high. His scent in her nose.

Then it suddenly becomes all too much to bear and her finger presses flat against the screen with such strength it causes rainbow-like shapes to appear around it on the device. A relieved sigh escapes her lungs as soon as a different song starts, and she slowly pushes herself off the wall and continues her way, even though she feels significantly weaker than before.

Arriving back home finally she kicks her shoes off, drops her coat on the floor and hurries to the couch to just slump down and bury her body in the soft blanket draped across its armrest.

Why is this so much harder tonight than it usually is?

Her glance moves around the room, taking in all the new things she and her best friend bought in the past couple months. They looked nice, but they didn't belong there. Nothing that wasn't theirs did. Then her eyes arrive to the coat laying on the floor and her heart skips yet another beat.

Dylan always left his clothes on the floor.

A gasp she recognises to be her own breaks the silence of the flat as she's back in time again. She hears his voice in her ears. His laugh. That gorgeous, bubbling laugh that was absolutely irresistible and always left her giggling.

The tears gather in her eyes, and this time she doesn't hold them back. One teardrop rolls down her skin, leaving a cold, wet path behind. Then another one. And before she knows, they come unstoppable. Through the blurriness she scrambles over towards the remote control and turns the TV on, letting the noise of whatever is on to fill the room.

She doesn't want to cry again.

She doesn't want to cry no more than she already did.

She doesn't want to cry herself to sleep yet again.

She's had enough of that.

So she tries hard to concentrate on the show that goes on and shut out all the thoughts inside her mind. Tries to take deep breaths to slow her pulse back down to normal. And it seems to work. The tears come slower and slower, and then eventually stop.

She reaches up to dry her skin with the edge of her hand and leans forwards to grab a tissue from the coffee table and then presses it against her eyes for a second or two before blowing her nose.

You see? It's not that difficult.

But then the next moment she hears movement outside the front door, then a key slipping into the lock and turning, and eventually the door itself opening.(y/n) finds herself frozen in spot, watching whatever it is that unfolds in front of her eyes. And truly, she's ready for anything, but not what actually happens.

Because right there, a couple feet away from her stands Dylan himself, his hair disheveled from the light breeze outside and his cheeks glowing bright pink from the cold air. His eyes - those beautiful, dark brown eyes that always made her knees go weak - snap towards her as he seemingly comes to the realisation that he's not alone in the apartment.

"I-I'm sorry, I tho-thought you won't be home now," he stutters, running his fingers through his hair just like Alex or Adam or whatever did only an hour ago.

And her breath hitches in her throat from the sight, because it's finally him doing it. Not just someone who does it like him. But then she manages to pull herself together, and she repeats his words in her mind to be able to understand their meaning. And when she does, a frown replaces the previous shocked expression on her forehead.

"Why would think that ?" She asks back in confusion, a bit more harshly than she wanted to. "I still live here, you know."

"Yeah, but-" Dylan starts to explain but then his voice fades away and he just shakes his head, looking away from her, right at the floor in front of him. "Nevermind, I just came to pick up the rest of my stuff."

"Oh, okay."

Why does she feel a sudden pang in her chest? Why does feel hurt again? Why does she feel like her heart just broke again, even though it already was broken?

Dylan's eyes stay cast on the floor as he moves to make his way in the bedroom they used to share, but he comes to an abrupt stop when he notices the coat laying on the floor. Out of instinct he leans down to grab it and hang it up to its place on the hanger, just like had done thousands of times whilst he was still living here.

(y/n) always teased him about leaving all his clothes laying on the floor all around their apartment. She was determined to make him quit that lazy habit. And he did his best to succeed, because he knew how happy it would make her.

But then why is her coat laying on the floor?

He wonders as he disappears behind the door and (y/n) lets out the breath she didn't even notice she was holding in. Dylan takes in all the new things in the bedroom and notices how only one side of the king sized bed seems to be in use, the other perfectly made, giving off the impression that it hasn't been touched once in the past month or two. And it's his side. It was, at least.

It doesn't take him long to realise that his eyes can't find any of his belongings that were clearly there the last time he was in the apartment, three months prior, before having to fly to the other side of the US for shooting a new movie.

"Erm, (y/n)?" He calls out, voice uncertain.

He immediately hears noises from the living room, her sock-coated feet padding on the floor, the sound of it growing louder and louder.

"Yeah?" Her soft voice enters his ears, making his heart skip a beat. He hasn't heard it in months. When she last spoke so softly to him, they were still in a relationship.

"Where are my-?" He clumsily waves his arms around, waiting for her to catch up with what he's trying to say.

"Oh, right!" (y/n)'s head moves in a nod after only a short moment, and she makes her way to the closet.

Opening its door, she kneels down, pushing a couple things aside before eventually finding what she's looking for. She pulls the box out, placing it on the carpet next to her, and Dylan moves to kneel by her, pulling the lid off.

His eyes take in his belongings that were obviously placed inside with great care, but he couldn't focus on them. All he can think about is how he can smell the oh so loved scent of her, how he can hear her quiet breathing from being so close. And how much he just wants to kiss her.

No. He has to stop thinking like that. They broke up for a reason. Or, more precisely, for multiple reasons. The countless fights out of nothing but sheer jealousy, the friend differences when one of them didn't like the other hanging out with a particular person or the other way around, the seemingly endless months spent apart because of his job. They were always there, hanging in the air just to explode whenever the slightest bit of disagreement arose.

Nothing has changed. These aren't things that can be changed. Friends? Jobs? Jealous personalities? They just both have to accept that they weren't meant to be as they always thought they were. They were meant to break. It was just a matter of time.

So no matter how much he feels drawn to her, how much he wants to just hold her, breathe her in and taste her, he has to lock these thoughts and feelings out.

"How are you?" He asks, trying to divert his mind from thinking.

"I'm okay, thanks," (y/n) replies with all the fake joy she can muster, but Dylan can still tell she's not telling the truth. He knows her too much not to notice such a thing.

"Are you, though?" And he makes the first mistake, reaching out and placing his palm on her hand that's laying in her lap. He does it absolutely by instinct, and as soon as his skin touches hers, he mentally curses himself, wishing that he could just pull his hand back without making the situation even more awkward than it already is.

(y/n)'s heartbeat rapidly quickens, her eyes glued to his fingers that cover her much smaller hand perfectly. Oh, how many times she was reminded of his hands in the past three months. How many times she wished it was his hand. How many times she wanted to just feel their fingers intertwine, just once more.

Slowly she raises her head, looking up into his warmth-spreading eyes, allowing herself to get lost in them - just for one second. Then she looks away again, bitterness filling her whole body.

"No, not exactly," she admits quietly, suddenly afraid of his reaction.

"I've been better as well," Dylan mumbles back and (y/n) can almost swear she heard a similar amount of bitterness drip from his words.

She glances back at his face, seeing the eyes she had always loved to reference to as puppy eyes look heart-wrenchingly sad.

Can it be true that he feels the same way?

"I hate not having you here," she speaks up again, her hand - the one that's not held by him - slightly raising to signal around their surroundings.

He takes a shaky breath in before slowly shaking his head and letting out a sigh.

"We've already had this talk," he reminds her oh so quietly it almost doesn't reach her ears. But it does, and she lowers her head in defeat.

"I know," she mumbles into the hair that has fallen in front of her face in the movement.

For a second or two both of them stay quiet, and Dylan moves to retreat his hand, only to be stopped by her other one gripping it, keeping it where it has been.

"It's just-" she starts again, pausing to try and find the right words to say. "Anywhere I go, anything I do, anyone I'm with, everything always reminds me of you. And I miss you. And I don't know if I can take it for much longer."

Dylan's heart feels like shattering hearing her words. Does she really feel this way? Is he not the only one who was constantly reminded of their relationship by everything that came in his way? Was the past three months equally miserable for her as it was for him?

"It'll be better. With time," he tells her the thing he repeated to himself as a mantra millions of times since their breakup - not like it had helped any time.

"No, it won't!" (y/n) exclaims vehemently, and the sudden loudness after all the quiet makes him wince. She notices and lowers her voice back. "It's what everyone keeps telling me ever since our... well, ever since that, but it's not true. It's just some stupid stock phrase that looks good on cards. But life doesn't work that way."

The young man sighs, knowing exactly what she means, having already replied the same thing multiple times when it was someone else telling him the mantra-like sentence.

"Will it make you feel better if I tell you I feel the exact same way?" He asks the girl and her eyes widen.

He does feel the same as I do.

But then again, it means that he feels sad, broken and useless. Miserable, even. And she doesn't want that. Not for him. She herself? She can manage. Somehow. She'll make herself manage. But Dylan? He shouldn't feel that way.  

"Not really," a dark chuckle escapes her before she could stop it.

They sigh at the exact same time, and it brings back memories to both of them - how in sync they always had been, saying things at the same time, reaching out for things at the same time, texting the other at the same time, et cetera.

How ridiculous it seems that even though they're seemingly a perfect match, somehow it wasn't that perfect at all. How in certain parts of it the two of them were meant to be, and in others they were only poisoning each other's lives.

"Well, I have my stuff now, I think it's time for me to leave," Dylan pulls his hand out from the sandwich of her touch, closing the box again before grabbing it and standing up. "Thanks for letting me."

With one last glance down on her figure he moves, exiting the room before his self-control would falter and keep him planted.

"Wait!" (y/n) calls out, and in an instant he freezes in spot, only two steps away from the front door.

She swiftly pushes herself up and rushes after him, only stopping when she's right behind him.

"Why don't you stay the night?" Her hasty voice goes into his ears and resonates in his mind. "I mean, I don't know if you have anywhere to sleep, but if you don't, you can stay here. I can take the couch," she's quick to specify before he could disagree, even though every single bone and muscle in her body screams against her offer - she doesn't want to sleep on the couch, but instead in her bed, inside his arms -, but she knows too well that he would reject that idea. And having him stay in the same apartment for the night would be satisfactory enough to keep her spirits up for a while.

Dylan stays frozen, as if he's turned into a statue in some magical, fiction-like way and (y/n)'s just about to give up and turn around to move back into her room just to curl herself up in her bed and let the endless crying come out when he all of a sudden turns around.

His eyes stay locked on her own pair of (y/e/c) ones as he obviously considers her offer with the rational part of his mind. Then to (y/n)'s surprise, his head moves in a nod and he leans down to put the box on the floor, slipping his shoes down from his feet.

"Thanks," he mumbles. "But I'll take the couch."

(y/n) only smiles back, with the smallest smile ever - and even that is only pretended - , then moves to grab an extra sheet she could put on the couch.

When she's done with everything and the boy's sleeping place for the night is ready for him to sleep in it, she mumbles a quiet goodnight and escapes to the bathroom, closing the door behind her back. Leaning back against the piece of perfectly wrought wood, she slowly slides down to the floor. The more minutes passed, the harder it was for her to keep her tears in. Maybe it wasn't that good of an idea as it seemed only mere minutes ago.

With a few shaky breaths she convinces her mind that tomorrow - when Dylan has already left - would be a more than perfect opportunity to cry her eyes out until they're all red and puffy, and she grabs the edge of the sink to pull herself up to begin her night routine.

By the time she finishes, Dylan has already lain down, wrapping himself up in the very blanket she buried around her body not long ago, and the memory is enough to bring the tears back to her eyes.

(y/n) swiftly blinks a couple times to make them disappear, wordlessly cursing herself for being so ridiculously weak and emotional. She could do better than this. Then she tears her gaze from his lying form and strolls in her room, pushing the door behind her until only a small slot remains, and moving to her bed to lie down herself.

Dylan tosses and turns on the couch, unable to find a perfect, comfortable position, but he blames it on the furniture - it's not like it was designed to be used for sleeping anyway - , not on the fact that he's trying to fall asleep in his ex's apartment, the one he used to call his own.

Nevertheless, it changes abruptly when an hour or two later he hears a door creaking open, so quiet that if it was during the day, he's sure he wouldn't have heard it. But since it's the middle of the night - and it's well-known that during the night everything, even the smallest noises sound much louder - he's able to make it out perfectly.

Then the pair of feet padding on the floor he has already heard earlier that evening can be heard again, and he pushes himself up on his elbows just in time to see (y/n)'s sleepy form come in view.

"I can't sleep," she mumbles in a raspy voice when she sees him up and already watching her.

"Me neither," he admits in reply, curiously waiting what her next sentence or move might be - already fearing that it might be something that shouldn't happen, knowing damn well that he wouldn't be able to stop it.

"Could you... could you come and sleep in the bed?" (y/n) asks after a beat, so innocent and sheepish that it makes Dylan's mind spin with the sudden wave of adora- no. Not that word.

Just as he has thought his body moves before he could think it over and by the time he realises what he's doing, his head has already moved in a nod.

He feels too tired to argue with it - with himself, so he just kicks the blanket off of his body and stands up. When she grows sure he'll follow her, (y/n) turns around and disappears in the direction she just came from, and Dylan moves right behind her.

A random thought enters his mind on the way inside, letting him know the interesting fact that he still knows the way like the back of his hand, no matter the lack of lighting, he still turns easily at every corner, avoiding everything he could bump into like he has been doing this his entire life. Like the past three months have never happened.

He waits until (y/n) gets comfortable on the bed, then with a shaky breath taken he sits down on the edge of the bed. Taking it slow, afraid that the dream-like situation that often played in his mind when he slept would burst like a bubble and he'd find himself back in the rigid, hard truth, he swings his legs up on the mattress, gently letting his upper body fall down until his back softly hits the sheets.

He stays lying there for a couple seconds, body tense and motionless, but then her small hand reaches behind her back - towards him - and grabs one of his, pulling it back with her until it drapes across her body.

Dylan sucks in a sharp breath, for a moment not knowing what to do, but when he hears - and feels - the small, contented sigh leave her lips, all the tension exits him and he moves his arm to a more comfortable position, eventually pulling her only closer to his body with the movement.

But it's fine. For now, it's okay. It's just for tonight. One last time.

One last time to feel this, to feel her against him, to have her delicious scent fill his nose and lungs as he breathes in deeply.

Maybe when they wake up, they'll find out it was only a nightmare and everything goes back to how it used to be. Maybe they can change and make this relationship work. Maybe they will succeed. Maybe they'll get the happily ever after they always dreamed about.

But for now, it's enough for both of them to just feel more peaceful than they ever did in the past three months as they slowly drift off to sleep in each other's embrace.

.::the end::.

my masterlist