#also calling it my 'good laptop' is a bit insane considering the state it's in but i really loved this computer what can i say

[thesmokinpossum]

So my good laptop might be officially cooked, taking about 2 weeks of writing I actually cared about with it, it's honestly funny how deplorable february is at this point

[kn-1013]

i know i've been on my anti-modern AU propaganda lately and it's just because i've been delving deeper into the sally face ao3 tags and i just keep finding them over and over. it's frustrating because there are a lot of really interesting concepts out there that would fit really well and make for a genuinely really interesting story in the 90s, but they get thrown off because the author doesn't know enough about the 90s to write for that time period, so they make it into a modern au instead. there's nothing inherently wrong with that, and i think there's room for modern aus to be done well here, i even have my own half-serious modern au, but i do think you often lose part of what makes sally face special when you turn the story into any other kind of contemporary love story/horror story/etc where all the characters just have ~iphones~ and use ~snapchat~ and all these things.

like, the 90s was not some kind of alien planet, and a vast number of the problems that you're solving with smartphones can be worked around very easily with just a bit of research or thought. long distance walkie-talkies, pagers, and PDAs were all (though sometimes expensive) perfectly capable contemporary technologies for talking to people when you are not physically with them. in fact, a lot of the abbreviations and slang we use over text right now was developed by young people in the 90s using pagers to talk to their friends. PDAs were a bit more out there in the 90s than they were in the aughts, but it's still completely plausible for henry in particular to have one, considering he already owns a home computer, which was not at all ubiquitous in the 90s. considering the apparent financial limitations that he and sal live under (it's never stated explicitly, but i mean, they live at addison's, they can't be in a great financial situation) and how insanely expensive computers were back then, it's more than likely that henry's job requires a home computer of some sort, meaning that a PDA would probably be incredibly useful to him if he were away from it, because there's no way in hell he's getting himself a luggable or another kind of early laptop to bring with him, that would've been too expensive.

and that's ignoring the fact that so many situations where two characters are apart form each other but need to communicate could just be fixed by rewriting the plot so that they can meet in person. i know that's not what people wanna hear because rewriting sucks, but you can find a lot of reasons for characters to meet each other randomly or to have reasons to meet up later if you give it a bit of problem-solving. part of what makes the pre-smartphone era interesting to write for and so optimized for horror, and probably a big reason that gabry chose this time period for the story in the first place, is the level of disconnection between each character in the story BECAUSE they don't have things like smartphones. having to work around this technological limitation is part of the fun, because you get a very enjoyable push and pull of closeness vs. disconnection between each character.

this is great for alienating ash, the only one who doesn't live in the apartments (except for neil), and causing her internal conflict about her relationships with the rest of her friends, especially as the story progresses and they start discovering more shit about the cult, and her instincts are to call the cops because she's a lot more normal than her friends are. or, it's good for alienating travis, who also doesn't live there and is far more isolated than everyone else (more on that next), or for creating an unhealthy and codependent relationship between sal and larry, who, with the walkies, are the only two in the friend group who DO have semi-instant access to each other all the time--all of which are plot points i put into my writing.

and if that's not enough, think about the implications for travis's character in particular. his father is a preacher, and a huge talking point of christian extremists in the 90s was that things like television were evil and demonic in some way. they campaigned against these things heavily. with the kind of person that we know kenneth phelps to be and the way many technologies we take for granted today, including TVs, were still being adopted by older generations, it's not out of the question at all that travis doesn't own something like a TV or a VCR, putting him even more out of the loop with what other people his age are doing than he already would be, having approximately 0 friends. he doesn't know what DND is, and he doesn't know how to look it up because he's not familiar with computers or the internet, he just knows his dad thinks it's demonic, so he steers clear of it.

the intention of cult leaders like kenneth is to keep their victims as isolated as possible, and not owning a TV, VCR, home computer, etc, is a great way to keep travis and his sisters isolated and disconnected from their peers, and therefore more connected to the cult, and it's a lot easier to justify not owning these things in the 90s, where the story already takes place, than it is if you're writing a modern au. a modern au for this situation would require all kinds of technological workarounds to make sure that travis owned a phone but couldn't do anything his father didn't want him doing on it. he's the kind of father who would go through and monitor his kid's texts, he wouldn't just let travis have snapchat or whatever, but i digress.

i know i'm just doing my petty bitching and people can do whatever they want however they want to, but i really do feel like there's a huge piece of the story that is lost in turning the sally face story as it is into some kind of modern au, and it's pretty unfortunate to me that people seem to think that the 90s was such a primitive alien world of incomprehensible technology that they don't want to write for that time period at all. it's really not as terrifying as it seems, genuinely. a surface level understanding of the era's technologies would be straightforward enough for anyone who wasn't there to write something perfectly coherent, if lacking in specific cultural/technological details that nobody but me cares about because i have autism.

if you're a sally face fan reading this and you struggle with writing for the american 90s because you weren't there, go look up pagers (also called beepers) and PDAs (which are basically early pocket computers) and how they work. ask older family members if or how they used them. go look at the different kinds of home computers of the era from companies like packard-bell and IBM. learn what a pentium III is/was, or what it means to be X86 compatible. look at the history of the CD-ROM, and how when it was invented, it could contain so much data that consumers had absolutely no idea what to do with them until people started putting video games on them. go watch cathode ray dude, LGR or techmoan on youtube.

go learn things about this era, it's good for you and you will have a lot of fun, even if you're not like me, i promise, and your fanfiction will be better for it. please learn about this era. take my hand. we can go to beautiful places together.

[thesolferino]

Hell On Earth

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ genre: fluff

⤷ word count: 3.2k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: you barge into clay’s office to complain about his broken air conditioner, unaware that he’s streaming.

Florida was hell.

You liked to say it as a joke, during October when the rest of the world was freezing, during December when the insane temperatures finally went back under control, and the sun granted you its blessing of a refreshing gust of wind every now and then. You liked to say it as a joke, mostly, but God, did you mean it whenever summer would creep around the corner and you’d get reminded of why you told your boyfriend so often that the devil must’ve left hell, came down to America, and bought himself a nice penthouse in Florida.

It lived up to its title of the hottest state in the US, by far, considering the hellish temperatures that constantly made you dizzy whenever June rolled around. You had great air conditioning in your apartment, though, and as soon as the sun started burning skin, plants, water, and everything in its way, you and your college roommate would lounge at your place as the air conditioner blew cold wind and thank the lord (and the person who invented AC, bless his heart) for providing you with at least one blessing during these trying times.

So, of course that as soon as summer came about, your air conditioning conveniently broke.

Your roommate was out of the apartment within two days, flying to her family in Wisconsin, bidding you farewell as she left you to cook like a raw chicken in your shared apartment. Thankfully, you had a boyfriend - and what a boyfriend he was.

You don’t like to brag, but at these moments, you feel grateful to the universe and whoever else is looking over you for providing you with a rich boyfriend, with quite a big, echo-y house, and air conditioning made of pure heaven. As soon as your roommate packed your bags, you packed yours too, - if one backpack filled with makeup, your laptop, meds, underwear and hopes that he’d let you steal all of his clothes could count as “bags” - locked the apartment and left, ready to leave the AC on snowman temperature for two days minimum and ignore all his complaints.

Bad luck seemed to follow you everywhere, though, because you were there for merely three days when the air conditioning started stuttering.

You were sprawled on the cold sheets of his bed, listening to the low hum of the AC as you scrolled through your phone, his white T-shirt sticking to your back, the cold air cooling the sheen of sweat that covered your body, leaving goosebumps all over. One of your fingers started lazily petting Patches’ stomach, and you could faintly hear Clay talking in the background, the sounds coming from his office.

“Thank you for the gifted subs! Um, yeah, it’s really hot here, I can barely, like, breathe in here. I have the AC on at highest, but all it’s doing is giving me a headache. Even-even my water bottle is completely hot.” You heard him rant and chuckled, turning on your side and continuing to scroll through random videos.

You sort of tuned out his talking, knowing he’d most likely be cooped up in that office for hours before your shared dinner, and started watching random YouTube videos, ignoring your surroundings as you shoved your earbuds in your ears. 

The longer the videos lasted, the more you felt like you were suffocating. The heat crawled up on you slowly, sneakily, almost unnoticeable yet undeniably there, hand made up of pure fire gripping at your throat tighter and tighter. It started off seamlessly, with you rolling around, trying to find a new cold spot on the sheets, to pulling at the shirt, trying to create cold air to soothe you, to wiping the sweat that basically covered your entire forehead, when your eyes finally peeled away from your phone and you realised you were basically choking in the heat, feeling like you’re breathing fire. 

You lift your head off the bed way too quickly, head pounding, and look at the one thing meant to save you from this madness - just to see it leaking water down the wall, barely coughing out any air. Your head miserably falls back down on the bed, hands rubbing at your face, dangerously close to both crying and screaming in distress. After a few moments of self-wallowing, you get up and make your way over to your boyfriend’s office, being met with nothing but silence as you walked to it, happy he ended the stream so you could complain and wail to him, possibly cool down using the AC in his office. 

You slam the door open, seeing him hunched over in his gaming chair, Minecraft open as usual, and as soon as he takes one headphone off, turns around and sends a surprised but oddly panicked gaze your way, you start ranting.

“Babe, you won’t believe what just happened.” you said, rubbing a hand over your face again, eyes closing as you feel the coldness - in comparison to the living hell that was his bedroom right now - of the room wash over you. You don’t even let him speak before you continue.

“The fucking AC in your bedroom just broke. It’s leaking right now.”

Clay looks like he wants to say fifteen words at once, and the first one that comes out is: “What?”

“I swear. I was watching something on my phone, and I realised it’s crazy hot, so I looked up and realised it’s broken. Why does this happen to me!” you complained, and he tried pulling his headphones off for a second but instead pulled the cord out of the computer entirely, letting you hear everything that goes on in his headphones.

It’s silent for a second or two, before you hear a familiar voice.

“Dream.” you hear a British man with an awfully posh accent speak, and your eyes meet Clay’s in pure horror and realisation, when you slap a hand over your mouth. He looks as equally terrified as you, but also disappointed, because oh, that’s why he looked so panicked when you stormed in.

Then you hear another voice, equally British, but higher pitched. They laugh. “Is that Drista?”

Clay seems to snap back into reality, turning around towards the computer and adjusting his mic before speaking. “No- it’s- Tommy she said babe, why would Drista call me babe?”

“You’re so stupid, he was trying to help you.” You hear his long-time friend, Sapnap, deadpan, and you can practically feel all of them freaking out, while you stand in the doorway in horror, cheeks heating up despite the fully working AC.

Another laugh. “No, I wasn’t, I was genuinely asking. Why- Sapnap, why would I be helping Dream?” 

“Dream, you are so stupid.” you hear George laugh into his mic and your boyfriend immediately starts stuttering, trying to defend himself.

“How-how am I stupid?! She’s the one who walked in, what was I supposed to do?” you lean against the doorway as he defends himself, head buried in one of your hands.

“Mute!” you hear Sapnap borderline yell, almost mad. 

“Wait- I don’t get what’s going on- Does Big D have a girlfriend?” you hear the British boy, Tommy, ask, and all of them go silent for a few seconds before a loud, screeching laugh breaks out through the speakers, and when Clay turns around to look at you, all you can do is mouth an apology as you almost break out into laughter at how ridiculous the whole thing is.

“Oh my God, chat is going crazy right now.” George says while Tommy is laughing his lungs out in the background, still.

“Did you actually- did she actually- oh my GOD, Dream has a girlfriend! I can’t believe this!” Tommy keeps on laughing, coughing between sentences. “Dream stans, I am so sorry, this must be just a terrible, terrible day for you all.” 

“You’re probably already trending on Twitter, dude.” Sapnap adds, sounding more worried than your own boyfriend did at the moment.

“It was bound to happen at some point, I guess.” he huffs out, turning around to look at you every so often, gesturing for you to close the door and come in, which you did, guilt weighing you down as you moved.

“Are you serious? Can I- Can I speak to your girlfriend, Dream?” you can practically hear the grin in the boy’s voice and Clay doesn’t even turn to you before replying.

“No, you can’t.” 

“Oh, come on! You let me speak to your mum but not your girlfriend? Just for a little bit, please? I just- I just wanna see which lucky woman managed to get the attention of the Minecraft God, Dream himself. That’s it.” Tommy asks and you don’t even have it in you to laugh because of the anxiety that eats away at you, but then Clay sighs. 

“...Fine, I guess.” he looks up at you. “D’you wanna speak to Tommy?” 

You’re not quite sure what the expected answer is, but you shrug, gaze darting from his eyes to the computer, and then back to him. “Um… I don’t mind, I guess.” 

You hear him sigh and plug the headphones back into the computer, handing them to you. “Alright, she said yes. Here you go.” he stands up out of the chair and lets you sit, placing the way too big headphones on your head as your heart races, standing closely by your side as you roll the chair further towards the desk and microphone.

“Um… hello?” you shyly speak, and you hear something like groans of mixed annoyance, confusion and nervousness coming from George and Sapnap as Tommy starts laughing immediately, greeting you loudly. 

“HELLO, DREAM’S GIRLFRIEND!” you hear him yell in response as your shaky hands land on the keyboard, moving his character left and right. 

“Is the AC really broken?” Sapnap asks and you hear George laugh in response, considering how unimportant that information is right now. You know both of them, obviously - you’ve talked to them more than a few times, joining in on their jokes when Clay talks to them on speaker, growing as close as one can with their boyfriend’s friends.

“Yeah, it is. The AC in here is really good, though. Maybe I should stay and just take over the Dream channel.” You joke and they laugh.

“Yeah, I mean it would probably be better. A woman owning the Dream channel would make it so much better. The views would skyrocket.” Tommy says and you see his character walk up to you before he randomly laughs again.

“I can’t believe- I can’t believe Dream actually has a girlfriend. Is he, like, paying you to do this, or are you really…” he trails off and you giggle at his question, switching tools in the hotbar as you try to figure out how to play the game again.

“No, he’s not. We are dating, yes.” you confirm with a nod, and you feel Clay’s elbow sink into the chair, almost trying to listen.

“Say 1 if he’s keeping you hostage.” he says and you laugh again, shaking your head.

“No, he’s not- he’s not keeping me hostage.” you reply and you hear Clay go “WHAT?” right behind you.

“Well, of course, of course, I mean, who could ever pass up dating the great Dream. With all those subscribers, and Twitch primes, and Minecraft skills. Did- did his Minecraft skills get you?” Tommy asked, but before you could even respond, Sapnap jumped into the conversation.

“Oh yes, absolutely. She loves it. Yes, Dream, speedrun faster!” he sarcastically replies and for a few moments the whole call is blown into loud laughter, screeching and yells before it quiets down.

“Yes, what Sapnap said. I was so impressed, he just blew me away, with um… with his, um, Manhunt skills? I dunno, I don’t play Minecraft.” you hear him laugh at “Manhunt skills” behind you as the rest of the boys start laughing too.

“Dream’s girlfriend doesn’t play Minecraft?! What?! Dream- how could he allow this, seriously…” Tommy argued dramatically, his character staring at yours - or rather Clay’s.

“I can’t imagine if we were both Minecraft players, that would be a nightmare.” you replied.

“Why?” you heard George laugh through the headphones.

“Who do you think peels him away from the damn computer? If I was just like him we would never get out of the house, probably.” you argued.

“Dreamfriend, what is Dream like, you know, in real life?” Tommy spoke up and you heard George giggle again.

“Dreamfriend?” you repeated, a grin forming on your face at his stupidity, finally deciding to move the character around and switch back to the sword in the hotbar.

“Yes! Dream’s girlfriend, Dreamfriend, Dreamgirl, Girldream, whatever you like.” Tommy said and you laughed.

“Dream girl… if I wanted to get clout off Dream I’d use that, that’s genius.” 

“Thanks, I know I’m a genius, everyone tells me so.” Tommy claims and you shake your head, checking your boyfriend’s inventory to see if there’s anything interesting in there.

“Alright, I’m gonna check on the AC, I’ll be back in a second.” Clay says to you, before lowering himself to the mic so the boys could hear him. “Tommy, don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

“Oh you know it, big man! I’d never!” Tommy yells back, despite Clay being unable to hear him, and he leaves the office with one last, quick kiss to your temple.

“Is he gone?” Tommy asks, and you nod and hum, despite him not being able to see you.

“Okay, so you don’t play Minecraft, right?” he asks.

“No, I don’t.” you reply.

“So there’s this really cool thing, right. If you just go in and type /op tommyinnit, there’s this thing that’s gonna-” Tommy doesn’t get to finish his sentence before he’s cut off by Sapnap, whose character suddenly appears in front of you.

“No, no, no, no, don’t trust him, you should-” Sapnap cuts in, but Tommy still loudly protests in the background.

“BE NICE TO OUR GUEST, SAPNAP! Let her do what she wants! She is Dream’s girlfriend after all, the most powerful woman.” Tommy claims and you laugh, sort of blushing from all the attention. You don’t even dare to check the chat or the donations that come in from Twitch, because it must be blowing up by now. As if he can hear your thoughts, George speaks too.

“Oh my God, Dream’s already trending on, like, five different spots on Twitter.” he says, and you instinctively grab your phone to check, before you can even think about it.

“What?” you and Sapnap both say in sync.

“Yeah, ‘Dream’ is trending #2 worldwide, and ‘Dream girlfriend’ is #4.” he lets out a shocked laugh.

“Oh my God…” you mutter out in both excitement, nervousness and dread as you open Twitter and confirm that George is indeed correct. You don’t even dare to press on either of the trends, simply turning off your phone with a sigh and moving back to stream.

“Wow, you’re famous now! How does it feel?” Tommy asks and you let out a quite dry laugh.

“Amazing. I can feel my value as a person increasing as we speak.” you respond sarcastically and hear George quietly laugh in the background.

Just then, you hear the door to the office opening again, but you ignore it because Tommy starts speaking.

“Okay, well, I’m sure that must be very fun and exciting for you, but I really will need you to type in /op tommyinn-” 

“No! I’m not listening to you, Tommy! I’m not about to type in some stupid command and get yelled at!” you cut in, but he keeps on whining.

“Come on, we know Big D would never yell at his… beloved girlfriend! Listen, just do it, I promise he will not be mad.” he argues.

“What does /op even mean?” you ask out loud, and suddenly Clay is yelling behind you. 

“Who is asking you to op them? Give me the headset!” he says, one hand already tugging at the headphones as you laugh while Tommy panics.

“Well, it was fun talking to you guys, but I have to go. Bye!” you bid them farewell and heard George and Sapnap say goodbye as well while Tommy yelled, and you took off the headphones and passed them to Clay who immediately put them on and adjusted them, plopping back into the chair. You left, moving to the living room to process everything that happened and abandon your phone for the next few hours because you were not ready for that type of attention in the slightest.

You laid in front of the TV, watching random shows on Netflix and grabbing a few snacks from the kitchen while you could still clearly hear him yelling and streaming, wondering how he’s still going as if nothing happened. The temptation to check what people were saying was overwhelming to the point your hands were itching to grab your phone and open all social media - before you even realised it, you were on the trending page again, thumb tapping on the “Dream girlfriend” tab. 

You braced yourself for the worst, but that’s not what came at you - sure, there were a couple of tweets telling people to lay off you, and delusional shippers getting ratioed, but they were mostly positive, lighthearted jokes, from single people making jokes about how a Minecraft YouTuber can get bitches but they can’t, to people calling you cute/funny. One hate comment obviously stings more than a million positive comments make you happy, but they were mostly misogynists calling you annoying for the roughly five sentences you spoke on stream or shippers disappointed that their favorite YouTuber isn’t gay, so you didn’t really let it get to you. 

When the house finally quieted down the sun was lowering itself into darkness and melting into a pot of blinding orange and golden honey, and you heard Clay’s footsteps when he finally turned off the stream, stepping into the living room a few seconds after you heard him. He sat down on the couch next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close to him, sitting there in silence with you.

“So… that was something.” he finally broke the silence and you nodded.

“It really was.” 

Another beat of silence passes.

“I’m sorry, baby, but I really need you to stop breaking all these ACs.”

“I’M NOT THE ONE BREAKING THEM-”

“Sorry, but I’m noticing a pattern here.” he wheezed, obviously just trying to get you riled up as you pulled away so his hand gets ripped off your shoulder.

“Shut up. You better have called someone to repair that damn thing, cause there is no way we’re sleeping in there without an AC.” you huffed, and he shuffled closer to you, arm wrapping itself around your shoulders once again.

“I did, they’re coming by tomorrow.” he assured.

“Tomorrow?” you asked, looking at him in disbelief. “How are we gonna sleep tonight?”

“Who says we have to sleep?” the glint in his eye and the stupid grin plastered on his face tells you everything you need to know, and you roll your eyes.

“If we fuck, I’ll actually die of overheating. Absolutely not.”

“Well in that case, I need to get that AC fixed as soon as possible.”

[hee4won]

hate(d) | nishimura riki x reader

requested by @onionhaseyeo i’m so sorry if this isn’t what you wanted but for some reason i got super excited

a/n: this is my first time writing a fic(?) i guess it could be considered.. i just had an idea i liked for the request and it felt more like a fic than a headcanon :] i hope it’s not too bad !

word count: 2.1k

warnings: probably some grammatical errors, other than that none. (lowercase intended)

tags: e2l, slight angst, slight fluff

you hate nishimura riki. when you tell others how you feel about him they always have the same unoriginal response, “hate is such a strong word.” and that, is exactly why you chose it. 

now, in order to really understand why your hatred runs so deep, let’s get into the Three W’s! WHY do you hate him so much? he stole your best friend, she ended up developing feelings for him and ghosting you, she moved away, he never apologized for it. WHEN did you realize nishimura riki was the worst thing to ever happen to you? 7th grade, it’s always 7th grade. WHERE did the beginning of the end commence? the cafeteria, your friend decided to spill her guts out in front of the whole lunch table, only to be humiliated not long after. 

there you sat, glaring at the back of riki’s head. anyone from a mile away could sense your distaste when it came to him. truth be told, no one could understand why, and you never cared to explain. you figured the situation between the two of you or - just you and an unknowing boy -  was personal and should be kept private. you were really good at keeping it a secret too, so good that riki himself couldn’t pinpoint the issue you had with him. 

for the most part you did your best to avoid him, whether it be physically or when he was brought up in conversation between classmates. ni-ki, as people on good terms with him would address him, was a really friendly student. he didn’t pick fights, kept his teasing to a minimum, and somehow got good grades despite sleeping in and skipping classes. 

going to school knowing his sweet, smiling face would be one of the first things you would see in the morning was what kept you in bed during first period. just the idea of him was revolting, and you simply weren’t strong enough to hold your ground right after waking up.

that was until your first period teacher emailed you letting you know a group project was coming up and it counted as 60% of your overall grade. all you could do was send a friendly reply, close the laptop, and scream into your pillow. you were going to be seeing nishimura riki for the first time in almost a month. which you considered to be the best month of your life.

you were alert all morning, barely getting any sleep the night before from how nervous you were. it actually wasn’t as bad as you thought. you were late, which meant everyone already picked who they were going to group with. and, to your luck, riki was nowhere to be foun-

*bump*

“oh my gosh, i am so sorry. . . y/n?” sigh, of course it had to be him. you flashed a limp smile and hurried over to an empty seat. you noticed his hand go forward then drop down to his side, almost like he was trying to bring you back. “oh! ni-ki,” even the teacher knows his nickname? how wonderful. “what perfect timing, you and y/n will be partners for the project, i’ll send the rubric out this afternoon. class dismissed!”

your legs were like jelly, since when did you become this way? sure, you hate him but. . . not being able to move? it was different, it was new. riki noticed the look of confusion on your face and cautiously made his way over to you once all the other students cleared the classroom. “hey, y/n. i haven’t seen you in a while, have you been doing alright?” why on earth was he concerned about you? so shameless.

“yeah, i’m fine, thanks,” you glared at him while standing up and purposefully bumping into his shoulder. bad move. your knees gave out right then, luckily, riki held onto you before you could hit the cold floor. you sighed in defeat, today just wasn’t your day, and mister nishimura just wasn’t the person you wanted to be this close to.

“do you need something? or is there another reason you won’t let go of my arm,” every word had a hint of poison mixed in it. riki muttered a small apology and quickly released you. “i just wanted to let you know that we can work on the project at my place, only if you want,” he gave a boxy closed-mouth smile, almost as if he was trying to act cute. disgusting.

“whatever, give me your address and i’ll come by at 4.” and with that, you two went your separate ways.

after school

as you made your way to riki’s house, you were running over every possible scenario that could occur. you wanted to avoid arguing, only because you took your grades very seriously. but does he? you couldn’t help but feel nervous and slightly jittery as you got closer to his front steps. oh! the door is open. but. . . no riki?

you called out for him a couple times until hearing laughter and the crunching of chips coming down from the second floor. of course, he’s playing the game. trudging up the stairs you wiped off your sweaty palms, mentally preparing yourself before inviting yourself into his room.

“sunghoon, shut up! it’s not even like that, you’re so weird,” he was so loud. “jake, you too! as if you haven’t been trying to swoon that girl in your third period for the past two months now. haha!” well, boys will be boys.

you open the door and riki notices immediately. he throws his headset and controller down to the floor. “y/n, you scared me,” he was almost out of breath. “oh my bad, i called out for you but you didn’t hear me so. . .” you fiddled with your fingers awkwardly. riki muttered a quick, “it’s okay” and gestured for you to take a seat on his bed.

picking up his headset, he told the cheeky upper-class boys that he would talk to them later. grabbing his supplies and computer, he took a seat next to you. you shifted away from him a little, not comfortable with the closeness between the two of you. he didn’t seem to notice, that or he just didn’t care.

“okay, so, have you already looked over the rubric?” crickets. “helloo, earth to y/n! have you checked the rubric yet?” “OH! yes, i have, ha,” you gave a quick reply, trying to pretend the awkward moment of you staring at him never happened.

ha? are you insane? you were nervous yes, and you thought it was because of the bad terms you two were on but. . . this nervousness felt a bit different.

“i also wrote up a quick outline during lunch,” you took the paper out of your bag and moved to hand it to him. “ooh nice, you’re such a scholar,” you gave him a lighthearted “shut up” before looking back at your laptop.

did he feel that? your fingers touched. they did touch, right? you can’t be imagining all of this. Y/N. WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU HATE HIM, REMEMBER?

“uh, y/n? why do you look like you’ve been holding in a wet fart for the past three minutes?” he was being playful while also holding genuine concern because of your recent actions. your jaw drops, you were always bad at keeping a poker face. but you knew you had to go back to your cold state, there was no way you were going to finish the project by gawking at him. he has such pretty lips by the way, how did you not notice sooner?

it had been a few hours since you guys started working on the project. you checked the time, 8:00 pm. “hey, riki,” you began with a small yawn. “y/n, you know you can call me ni-ki, right? that’s what all my friends call me,” his eyes suddenly widened noticing your discomfort. “wait, i mean. . . only if you want to!”

you cleared your throat and just asked for the bathroom. once inside and closing the door behind you, you felt the need to cry. sob, even. what is going on? why do you feel so bad for being around him? are you a traitor? is it wrong to be laughing and giggling like the two of you are besties?

you turned the water on, hoping it would drown out the sound of your muffled cries. unfortunately, you have some awfully loud sniffles. riki came running to where you were and knocked on the door. he spoke softly, “y/n? are you okay? can i come in?” what was the point in saying no? it is his house, and maybe if you told him. . . you’d feel better.

as you opened the door and looked up at him, the look of worry on his face made your heart ache. gosh, why do you care about him so much? he looked at your tear stained face and slowly reached out his hand, giving you a look that pleaded for your approval. you pass a small nod, and almost sank into the warmth of his hand on your cheek. he pulled you in for a hug as you cried for a little while longer. “do you wanna talk about it?”

here it was, here was the chance to let him know what you’ve been wanting to since 7th grade. you took a moment to steady your breathing and gather courage to look him in the eyes. you told him everything, from the beginning of 7th grade, to the day it all happened, all the way to where the two of you stood now.

he just sat there, probably trying to process everything you had randomly dumped on him. you were about to apologize and pack your things, but for some odd reason, he smiled? “ni-ki? what’s so funny? i was being serious,” his smile only grew bigger, “no i know, i just find it so funny how you had so much agaisnt me meanwhile i just wanted you to like me.”

he?? wanted you to like him??? hmmm. “what do you mean. . . wanted me to like you?” you were really curious, “i’ve had a crush on you since 7th grade, that’s why i rejected your friend later on. i never knew it would hurt you in the process, and for that i am sorry. very sorry.” you let out a small chuckle, “it’s not your fault, really. now that i’m older i think i was only mad that you two didn’t end up together because i liked you too. i just couldn’t live with myself for liking the same boy my best friend liked. it’s stupid, i know.”

riki reached out for your hand, which you obviously let him have. “you’re a good friend.” he flashed you a sweet and caring smile. you let out a sigh of relief, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. all this time you had been pushing for yourself to hate him, while it was all just a plot to get rid of your feelings for him. crazy.

it was 11:00 pm.

you and riki had already finished the project and were laying on his floor. the both of you just staring at the ceiling and stealing glances at each other. what lovesick little kids.

after noticing the time, you hopped up and told him you really needed to go. he gave you a small pout with puppy eyes trying to get you to stay, and of course, it was hard but you’d rather leave now and see him later than get grounded and not see him for another month. “i can just text you, don’t make that face.”

he escorted you down the stairs, both of you moving discreetly, careful not to wake the boy’s parents. he opened the door for you and you turned around, gazing at him. “what are you thinking?” he asked with a tired smile on his face and small pieces of fluffy hair sticking up in every direction. you gave a shy smile and pecked his lips. he was very surprised, but also very happy.

“nothing.” you said, holding a cheeky grin in an attempt to hide your shyness. “wow, just to think that you hate my guts,” riki poked fun at you.

“hm, hate is such a strong word.”

“what would you call it then?”

“i would say. . . i hate(d) you. past tense.”

the two of you just laughed, both of you yawning shortly after.

“goodnight, mr. ni-ki.”

“goodnight, y/n.”

and with that, the two of you went your separate ways. but this time, with mutual feelings.

oh and btw, the project got you guys an A+ ;).

[jamespotterthefirst]

Lovely (Ethan x F!MC)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2,100+ Warning: Adult language Premise: Adding her on social media was a dangerous mistake. Particularly when she posts a picture looking like that. Tags: @openheart12​ | @ethandaddyramsey​ | @noboundariesplease​ | @silverlitskies​ | 

___________________________

“Post, post, post!” her roommates chanted with alcohol fueled enthusiasm. 

Lilac, the least drunk of the group, though not by a lot, peered at her friends quizzically. They were sprawled on different parts of their living room, gazing at her with glazed eyes and sloppy smiles. In her own drunken state, she wondered how the night turned from board games and drinks to Lilac spilling her guts about Ethan following her on social media. Of course, she had left out his name and so her roommates only surmised it was some new flame she was interested in. 

God, she wanted him with such desperation that it physically hurt sometimes. If she hadn't had several drinks, she'd feel miserable and somewhat pathetic.

“You guys don't even know who this guy is,” Lilac returned and she realized immediately that was not entirely true. As the words left her mouth, Sienna and Elijah shared a massive, knowing grin. Lilac's face flushed at the memory of running into them while trying to sneak Ethan out all those months ago. 

Luckily, Aurora and Jackie were too drunk to notice the exchange. 

“It's that Lahela guy, isn't it?” Aurora offered. 

“Not likely,” returned Jackie at once. “Lilac said this guy was good-looking and smart.” She instantly wrinkled her nose, looking far more dejected than was warranted. “It's a lot more fun when he's here to hear me insult him.”

“That one was weak,” Elijah commented with a laugh, elongating the last word. “If he was here, he would've destroyed you with a comeback.”

Before Jackie could reply, Sienna leaped up from her place on the rug and plopped down next to Lilac on the couch. “I know what picture you should post,” she exclaimed excitedly, brandishing her phone in front of Lilac's face. A blur of green was all she could see as Sienna waved the phone. “Remember that green dress you bought for your cousin's wedding before they called it off?”

“Let's talk about that for a second,” Aurora said with renewed interest. 

Sienna didn't seem to hear this because she went on, “The one with the neckline and the slit?” 

Lilac remembered. She also remembered the picture she had sent Sienna to show it off. Lilac standing in front of a body-length mirror clad in the forest green number, phone strategically positioned to cover her face so the emphasis would be on the plunging neckline and on the shapely leg escaping from the slit. 

“That dress could kill a man,” Sienna said approvingly as they both inspected the picture on her screen. “It's equal parts classy and also—” 

“Slutty?” Lilac offered. It was how she described her style on most days and she was far from ashamed of it. 

“If he wasn't in such great shape, you'd give the poor man a heart attack. I'm sure Eth—” she started but abruptly stopped when she remembered the others. One nervous glance around told Lilac they were not listening anyway. They were busy filling Aurora in on the drama of the canceled wedding. Sienna lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “I'm sure your mystery guy will love it. He was all over you when you wore that navy blue dress in Miami.” 

Perhaps it was the memory of that night and his kisses on the balcony, or the alcohol coursing through her, or maybe the way her heart pined for him every time their eyes met, wishing desperately they could do more, that made Lilac say, “Fine, I'll post a—”

“Thirst trap,” Elijah chimed in with a cheer. 

They all laughed out loud, even Lilac. Another indicative that they should really stop drinking for the night. The semi rational part of her brain reminded her that she should've stopped drinking when posting a provocative picture with the most basic pose imaginable in hopes of entrapping a man that might not even be watching seemed like a good idea. 

With a burst of courage and recklessness, Lilac found the picture, wrote a ridiculous caption that would make her hungover self tomorrow morning cringe, and pressed "post" before they could spend another twenty minutes discussing her predicament and before the chanting resumed.

_________________________________________________

The account was supposed to be strictly for a one-time use. Ethan had planned to delete the damned thing as soon as Gwyneth's case had been solved and treated. Wasn't that part of the reason why he had allowed Lilac to use that ridiculous picture of him at the beach? It was meant to be a gag, something that would never see the light of day. 

Yet, he had found himself gravitating towards the tab left open on his laptop every time he used it. His subconscious had equated the inane website with learning more about Lilac. And despite his many attempts to convince himself that he shouldn’t care, he did. She was the only person he had ever wanted to learn more about, with such a desperate conviction that would be alarming to her if he ever confessed. 

He cared so deeply that the word “care” did not properly describe the unbridled longing in his chest. One did not flee to the Amazon for two months to escape “care.”  

Ethan pushed that dangerous thought away. 

“Thirty minutes, Ethan,” Reggie said from the doorway to the bar. It was his usual way to inform him how long it’d take him to clean-up and thus the amount of time Ethan had left to enjoy his drink in blissful solitude. 

He was alone, typically how he enjoyed drinking, yet he found no peace. Memories of the last time he was at that very beer garden with her accosted his thoughts. The way her bright green eyes looked startling in the golden lights floating all around and the feel of her soft lips on his. 

Before he could stop himself, he pulled out his phone and opened the app. His weakness was such that he had figured out how to download the damn app on his phone. It was almost comical that now he could look at her whenever and however long he wanted on a screen, as if she wasn't inhabiting his mind at every hour. 

Ethan was determined to find his favorite post, a picture of her at that very bar, taken a few months ago by her friend, Dr. Trinh. Before he could, however, his eye caught a notification from the app itself.

“Pictagram: dr.allende just shared a new post.” 

It was time stamped one hour ago. Ethan briefly commended himself on going a whole hour without staring at her face like the pitiful stalker he was becoming. Before he could feel ashamed and pathetic, he opened her new post and almost choked on his drink.

“Fuck,” he murmured into the quiet night, setting his glass down on a side table nearby. Without realizing it, he sat much straighter on the outdoor sofa. 

His eyes desperately roamed every inch of the image, unsure where to settle. There was the expanse of her exposed leg, or the dangerously plunging neckline of her dress, the casual sway of her hip. His hands had clutched on to those hips, fingers digging slightly into her skin as they both lost themselves to unmitigated pleasure.

It was downright criminal how good she looked in the picture, exposing enough to drive a man insane but not enough to be crass. Apparently, he was not the only one to think so. In the mere hour the picture had been up, it had already accrued 220 of those "likes" Lilac had explained. 

Ethan continued to stare at the picture like a starved man. It took everything in his power not to call her and somehow convince her to take him back, his morals and conviction be damned. That was the power Dr. Lilac Allende and her green dress wielded over him. 

The distant clanging of bottles startled him out his thoughts so abruptly that Ethan almost dropped his phone. He caught it quite unceremoniously and as he turned the screen back to him, he noticed a red heart animation appearing and disappearing in the middle of her picture. 

"Shit," he muttered when he realized he, too, like the 220 others had "liked" the picture. Upon further inspection, he realized he had even accidentally commented the single letter "I". 

A bit frantic, he tapped at his phone to figure out a way to get rid of the damn thing. He could not bear Lilac learning he leered at her picture at 1 AM and was so affected he could barely type a coherent sentence. Even if that was a hundred percent true. Ethan was getting nowhere, except to an early grave, when a text message notification came in. 

“Like what you see?”

It was Lilac.

 Goddammit, she had seen. 

Ethan considered not replying. Yet, even as he entertained the thought, he knew he couldn't resist. 

“Along with 220 others,” he replied before he could stop himself. He realized belatedly that the real count was 220 others plus Bryce Lahela (scalpellahela). 

“Those 220 others can look all they want but they can't touch,” was her immediate response. 

His breath caught a little. The power she had over him was astounding. 

“But you can,” she added when he did not respond. 

God almighty. She was determined to kill him. 

A few minutes ticked by and his phone buzzed with an incoming call. When he started the call, he was greeted by what sounded like distant wolf whistles, followed by the sound of a door closing. 

“You okay over there?” she asked by form of greeting. Her voice was teasing in a way that was absolutely maddening. 

“Fine,” Ethan replied in what he hoped was a convincing, leveled voice. 

“Where are you anyway?” She spoke in a sultry sort of drawl that did nothing to placate his traitorous body's reaction to her photo. 

“Donahue's. Finishing up my drink,” he replied, eyeing his forgotten scotch on the table where he had set it. “Anyway, sorry if I awoke you. I accidentally liked and commented.”

“Accidentally,” she repeated in a tone that suggested she did not believe him. “So you don't like my dress and you're not at a loss for words?” 

“I never said that,” he returned at once. “You look…”

What was a professional way of saying “fucking irresistible” or “like I want to peel that dress off with my teeth”? 

“Good,” he said lamely, though his strangled voice suggested far more. She picked up on that, of course. 

“And what are you going to do about that?” she asked in a deliberately innocent whisper. 

“Lilac,” he warned, as he always did when their conversation veered towards volatile territory. 

“There's nothing wrong with just telling me, Ethan,” she offered and he could have sworn she sounded almost pleading.  

He did not argue, as he usually did. Mostly because another intellectual argument with her, in addition to the photo and the way she all but purred in his ear,  would allow his desire for her to win. He'd be on his way to her bed in moments. 

“Tell me,” she prompted again. 

With a sigh, he gave in. 

“That dress is...”

“Yes?” 

“Sinful.”

There was a small pause at the other end of the line. 

“Should I wear it out?”

“Absolutely,” he returned, completely enraptured by the direction this was all heading. He could feel his inhibitions vanish.

“Where to?” 

“My bed.”

She did not miss a beat. 

“Ideally, I'd be out of the dress for that, then,” she returned in that sexy drawl of hers. Ethan was astounded he was not in the car, speeding to her apartment at that very moment. 

“Fuck, Lilac,” he murmured. 

“So you can do that, yes,” she responded in a whisper so low that he almost didn’t catch it.

He said nothing, fearing he would sound like an incomprehensible imbecile if he did. 

A long silence, and then, “Ethan?”

“Yes?”

He heard her suck in a breath, almost as if mustering up courage. “I miss you.” 

There was an unbearable tugging at his chest. He never had her courage, but now that she had laid it out for him, he couldn’t resist admitting the same. “You know I do too.” 

Another small silence. 

“Come over,” she said at last and he could hear the tones of humor in her voice. Almost as if she knew what he was going to say. Perhaps she did know. The brief illusion in which they saw each other as lovers and not colleagues, had inevitably come to an end. As it always did. 

He laughed good-naturedly. “Go to sleep.”

“With you?”

Despite himself, he grinned. He knew at the other end, she would be too. 

“Good night, Lilac.” 

“Good night, Ethan.”

___________________________________

Click Here for Part 2

___________________________________

A/N: Ah, these two will have to sleep together sooner than later. 

THANK YOU so much if you read this silly, pointless thing! 

Masterlist

P.S. I made that Instagram post Ethan loves of MC at Donahue’s but didn’t put it in the story. LOL, I love the idea of him stalking her posts. That man is so in love.

Anyway, here it is, just for fun: 

[ghstandpucks]

Misguided Ghost ~ Zak Bagans Ch. 10

A/N: Hey everyone! I hope you are all doing well! Student teaching, plus class and working on my TPA's is insane right now! My cooperating teacher decided to forgo the original plans for her 3rd graders in math, and tasked me with making the lessons for this week from scratch...and I'm being observed later today. Distance learning has been interesting to say the least lol

I am working on the next chapter of my Nathan MacKinnon story so hopefully I have that out around Friday/this weekend!

Enjoy!

Chapter 9

Catching Flights and Feelings

“Mia, have you researched anything on Mickey’s Tavern in Georgia yet?” Zak asked as he walked into my office Monday morning, a week after being back from my first lockdown. Things have been back to normal between Zak and I, if you call what we had before normal. I could tell he was getting used to me being around and the snarky comments had subsided. He spent most of the days walking between my office and his, usually to end up sitting on the other side of my desk with his laptop. I had placed a new air diffuser with the same scent I had in his office, but he still said it wasn’t the same and would just stay in my office. Aaron has been teasing me, but I just brush it off.

I nodded and held up a pile of papers while I was reading through an article for a different location. Zak took them from me and sat down in his newly claimed spot in my office. Once I finished the article and highlighted what I thought stood out, I looked over my laptop at him. “Why did you want that one? I’ve done research on like 10 other locations that came in before them,” I asked, curious because he hasn’t before asked me for information on a specific site. Zak sighed and looked up from the papers. “The owner emailed me last night, then called me this morning. I guess the activity is really becoming too much to where it’s affecting his business. He was hoping we could investigate it sooner rather than later,” Zak informed me. I nodded. “Ok so, I researched that one on Friday and from what I can remember the reports are kind of crazy. Are we going to go?” I asked, taking a sip of my tea. Zak smirked at me. “Crazy is what we do here Mia. Nervous?” he asked. I laughed at his tease, as I knew now he didn’t mean anything by it. “Put me in coach,” I smirked back. Zak let out a chuckle and with a wink, left my office to presumably tell the others. ~ ~ ~ Two days later we were all at the airport, waiting to board. I had just met Jay Wasley and he seemed nice. Our flight was at 6:30 in the morning, which means I had woken up at about 3:30 to make sure I was ready when Zak and Aaron picked me up at 4:30. I was listening to my music while everyone did their own thing when Nick walked up to me and nudged my foot with his as he sat across the aisle from me. I opened my eyes and saw him holding out a tray of coffee, with one marked as a decaf pumpkin spice latte. I smiled and reached for it. “Bless your soul sir,” I said, Nick laughed and handed everyone else their drinks. Zak came over and sat next to me. “So you do drink coffee?” he asked, taking a sip of his. I smiled and shrugged. “Decaf when I know I can handle it,” I informed him. He gave me a quizzical look. “What do you mean by that?” I sighed, debating if I should tell him the whole truth. I didn’t mind talking about my anxiety, but it was also a conversation I try to avoid at times. “Caffeine messes with my anxiety. In grad school I developed really bad separation anxiety from my family. I had no one in San Francisco and apparently that is not good for me. I was already stressed out with school that everything just came to a head and I actually would get sick all the time and lost about 20 pounds. It was to the point I would shake and feel light headed when I didn’t eat at regular intervals. I stopped drinking coffee and I was able to manage it better. Turns out I always had separation anxiety when I looked back to elementary school with my mom. No one just really talked about it then,” I looked down at my coffee, unsure of what his response would be. “Do you need to eat something now? I can get you a bagel or something,” Zak asked softly. I looked back at him and he looked a bit concerned. I laughed lightly. “No, I’m better now. I gained a few pounds back when I got home from school and it helped. Also keeping myself busy and being around friends takes my mind off of it so, hence why I can drink decaf at least. Thank you though,” I smiled at him. “Oh so we’re friends now?” he teased me, and I bumped into his shoulder. “Well I was talking more about Aaron, but I guess I would consider you an acquaintance” I teased back. Zak put his hand to his heart in fake hurt. “Ow! Ok, I see how it is.” He laughed. “But seriously, that doesn’t sound great. Why chose to come to Vegas and leave your family again?” “It was time to branch out again. I don’t want my anxiety to control me, and it honestly isn’t as bad as others. I’m lucky that way. Plus, I figured a three in a half hour drive from home was better than a seven in a half one so I thought I would give it go,” I explained. Zak nodded. “Well, thanks for sharing that. I’m sure I didn’t help in the beginning,” he said, looking a little upset with himself. I was starting to see the guy away from the cameras that Aaron had told me about, and I wanted to see more.             “Not really. But you’ve gotten better,” I smiled at him. He chuckled and took another sip as our boarding time was called out.         

    Perks of traveling for the Travel Channel, business class seats! Instead of being crammed in a three-seat row, we had spacious two seat rows and I was ready for our nonstop four-hour flight to Atlanta, Georgia. I sat next to the window as Aaron sat next to me as our tickets stated. Zak and Nick were in front of us, with Billy and Jay across the aisle. Aaron settled into his seat, then turned to look at me. I was staring out the window, but I could feel his eyes on me. I turned to him and raised my eyebrow. “Can I help you?”      

      “You and Zak seem to be getting cozy,” he whispered with a smirk. I looked toward Zak and he had his headphones in so I don’t think he heard. Looking back at Aaron, he had a look on his face like he knew what I was thinking.             “We’re just becoming friends. Leave it alone,” I whispered hissed at him. Aaron rolled his eyes but kept his smile. I laughed and shook my head, looking back toward the window. I felt him shift next to me and when I turned to look, he was leaning forward tapping Zak on the shoulder. I stared at him thinking he wasn’t doing what I thought he was. Oh…but he was.      

      “Bro I need to talk to Nick about something. Mind switching?” Aaron asked Zak. Zak looked at me as I tried to hid in the hood of my jacket and hoped my cheeks weren’t too red. I wanted to shove Aaron.     

        “Not at all,” I heard Zak say. I looked up as they switched and Aaron winked at me. I shook my head slightly, then tried to smile when Zak took a seat. “Hope you don’t mind,” Zak said with that charming smile of his. I shook my head and smiled back, bringing my knees up to my chest as we got comfortable and ready for takeoff.      

       About an hour into the flight, I had drifted off to sleep only to be woken with a start when the plane became bumpy and the captain came over the speakers to ask all passengers to put their seatbelts on. I looked around with wide eyes and Zak must have realized I had no clue what was going on. “Hey, hey it’s ok. We just hit some turbulence,” he said, reaching for my hand. I let him intertwine our fingers as my heart started to slow back down. I smiled lightly at him, slightly embarrassed by my panic.        

    “Sorry,” I said quietly. He smiled and shook his head.      

      “Don’t be,” he stated, and went back to looking at his phone. I looked down at our hands and I could feel myself start to blush. It was strangely comforting knowing he was right there. I squeezed his hand reflexively as the plane gave another jolt. It’s not like I’ve never been through turbulence on a plane before, but it still didn’t mean that I liked it. Zak gave a reassuring squeeze to my hand and put his phone down, shifting his body so he was facing me more. “Why don’t you tell me about the history of this bar we’re going to,” he asked lightly.             “I’m ok, honestly,” I said, feeling bad I took him away from what he was doing before. Zak smiled.       

     “Who said I was doing this for your benefit?” he winked. I rolled my eyes but smiled none the less. I quietly began listing off what I remembered about the site, Zak asking questions here and there. Thirty minutes later the seatbelt sign was turned off again but Zak didn’t let go of my hand, and I would be lying if I said that didn’t make me feel like there were butterflies in my stomach.             About an hour later, we were getting ready to land. Only then Zak let go of my hand to put his backpack away and I couldn’t stop myself from feeling slightly disappointed. Though we had started talking about the location, we then started talking about music and concerts we’ve been to, and just life in general. We were really starting to get to know each other, and I was happy he was trusting me enough to open up.       

      Once off the plane, we claimed our luggage and all the tech equipment, heading off to the rental car area. Because there were 6 of us and many bags, we ended up with two SUVs. Billy and Jay in one with all the tech equipment, and the rest of us in the other with the luggage. I sat in the back with Aaron as Nick drove and Zak was in the passenger seat. I was watching Aaron as he was trying to hid his phone from me, but kept looking up with a goofy smile. I laughed at him as my phone and Zak’s both rang with a notification. Aaron gave me a huge smile as I looked at him suspiciously. “I’m scared to look at that,” I whispered and Zak shot around.     

        “Dude, seriously?” he didn’t seem mad or irritated, just slightly chuckled and shook his head. I looked between the two of them. Oh God…I picked up my phone and saw the Instagram notification that Aaron had tagged me in a post. I opened it up and my jaw dropped. Crap…

Aarongoodwin: The newbie can’t handle early morning travel #ghostadventures #travelbuddies #adoptedlilsis

Above the caption was a picture that Aaron shot over his head with him making a laughing face. I was fast asleep on Zak’s shoulder, with my knees curled up to my chest and leaning in his direction as well. Zak looked unphased, face in his phone, not noticing what Aaron was up to. To be honest, the picture was cute. But I was slightly mortified. What is Zak thinking? What are the fans going to think? Aaron just posted the picture two minutes ago and it already had over 400 likes and 53 comments. But one stood out.

Realzakbagans: What can I say? I make a good pillow. I looked up to see Zak watching me. When I caught his eyes he winked at me, then turned back around. I laughed and shook my head. 

NotMiaThermopolis: OMG! @realzakbagans sorry! @aarongoodwin I hate you. #notamorningpersonBoth Zak and Aaron checked their phones at the same time. Zak let out a bark like laugh as Aaron yelled “Hey!” Nick stopped at a red light and turned toward us.     

        “Will someone please fill me in?” he asked. Zak showed him the post and he started laughing. “Ok, that is a cute picture though. I will have my two cents in about it once we get to the hotel.” I looked at Aaron and shook my head as he gave me puppy dog eyes.          

   “You suck,” I laughed and smiled at him. He gave me a big smile as we all settled back into our seats for the hour drive out of Atlanta.    

[oikoik]

—study buddy (t.kuroo)

warnings: fem!reader, suggestive content, dom!kuroo (🥵 ammi right ladies), teasing, pretty tame, poorly written, read at your own discretion

word count: 1.6k

a/n: this is lit the very first drabble/thing in general that I have ever written for kuroo and the first suggestive piece I’ve ever done, so please don’t be too harsh in feedback (however I do greatly appreciate constructive criticism)

You rubbed at your eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past hour. The glare of the computer screen plagued the back of your eyes with a strain you knew would ache long after you completed the wretched assignment before you. Despite having a textbook and your notes at your disposal, the onslaught of questions were still laborious to say the least.

Taking a bit of a break, you stood from where you sat on the floor, after having found the chairs in the dining room too uncomfortable, and brought your arms high above your head. You relished in the stretch, the taut muscles of your back seeming to relax ever so slightly. University was no easy task, and with exam season quickly approaching, tension was sure to manifest in both physical and mental forms.

With a sidelong glance, you peer out the set of large windows. A thick strip of the evening sun beamed into the living room. You hummed in appreciation as you stepped into the warm patch, the comfort of such a simple action brought with it contentment.

A faint rustle came from across the room and you turned in time to see the familiarly styled mess of black hair duck in the entryway. The figure glances up after removing a shoe, a bright smiling reaching its way towards you.

"Hey, baby, how was your day?"

Kuroo stands with you in the rays of the slowly dimming sunlight, his arms wrapped loosely around your waist. You lean your forehead against his chest, the urge to hug all of life's frustrations out with him was nearly suffocating, but you were stopped in your tracks.

Pulling away from his grasp, you laugh gently at his slightly dejected reaction of you evading him. "As much as I love you, you smell awful, Kuroo."

A sheepish smiles crosses his features and he rubs the back of his neck with a chuckle, "oh, yeah, sorry. Coach ran us extra hard today." He leans down quickly to peck your cheek before grabbing his bag from the floor and retreating towards the hallway, "I'm gonna hop in the shower."

After he had disappeared, your attention returned to the study materials still sprawled across the coffee table. You inaudibly groaned, the incessant reminder that the assignment was due later that night was no motivator to get it done. Nonetheless, you persisted.

Twenty minutes passed and you were feeling a bit discouraged after seeing that of the sixty assigned questions, you had only made it through eight. An unwanted throb began to form in your temples and you found yourself once again pressing the palms of your hands against your eyes to at least attempt and relieve the dull ache.

"What are you working on?"

"Hm?" You craned your neck up to see Kuroo, freshly clean, standing directly behind your seated figure as he peered at the screen of your laptop. "Psychology. My professor gave the class a ridiculous assignment last minute."

You weren't sure what you were expecting, but it definitely wasn't Kuroo moving to sit with his chest pressed against your back, his arms hung across your midsection. Just as you were about to ask him what he was doing, his chin was resting on your shoulder. You could feel the coolness of his skin against yours, a few droplets of now cold water dripping onto your neck and t-shirt.

"Is it hard?"

"More time consuming than difficult, I suppose. It's just a giant pain in the ass." Another annoyed sigh came from you as you grumbled, "I've been putting it off all day and it's due tonight, so I guess I have no other choice, do I?"

The boy hummed in response, and you assumed he was just extra clingy today considering practice seemed intense. However, your mind nearly blank screened as you felt the ghosting touch of his lips against the skin of your neck, his warm breath fanning over the area. Goosebumps formed along your arms at the sensation and suddenly his close proximity felt overwhelming.

'There's no way I'm this needy after such a simple action, no damn way.' Your thoughts were interrupted when Kuroo's deep voice broke you out of your trance.

"Let me help you."

"Help me?"

You could hear the mischief in his voice as he explained, "I can offer some.. motivation that may encourage you to finish."

"And what would that be?..." In the back of your mind, you knew what he was hinting at, and the disbelief was still present until you felt his face nestle gently into the side of your neck.

Instead of verbally answering you, you felt the hand on your side loosen its grip before dropping to hover just above the apex of your thighs. Blood rushed to your face as you fully realized the antics he had planned. You could tell your cheeks and ears were tinged red with embarrassment. He knew you were easy to rile up, but never did you ever suspect that he would use knowledge in such manner.

"Kuroo… don't tease me." You knew begging would get you nowhere. Once his mind was made up, it took more than a few halfhearted words to get him to give into your pleas.

He ignored you completely, instead opting to read off a question on the screen. "What is the resting potential of a neuron?"

A shaky breath left your partially parted lips when you felt a delicate kiss against your shoulder. You shuddered at his tone as he spoke next to your ear, "Answer the question, baby girl."

You try to focus on keeping your hands steady as you types the answer into the blank space. Once you had finished, you shakily moved onto the next question, the presence of Kuroo pressed tightly against your back slowly driving you insane.

"Good job, baby, you're one question closer to your reward."

"Reward?"

"Mhmm… if you're a good girl and answer all of these questions correctly, I'll reward you for all your hard work. How does that sound?" His lips brushed against the shell of your ear. You swear you could feel your soul leave your body at what he was insinuating. Perhaps it was the promise, or maybe the nicknames and tone he was using to talk to you, but something in his words sent a jolt through your body that made your palms clammy.

You swallowed a moan as he left an attentive kiss to the skin below your ear, eyes closing involuntarily as the warm sensation in your abdomen grew stronger. He smelled so good, his hair and skin were so soft against your skin, and every trace of his fingers and graze of his lips left you breathless. Since when were you so needy after barley even being touched?

You managed to answer several more questions using this method, Kuroo's touches gradually becoming more straightforward after you started a new set of problems. To both your surprise and relief, you noticed there were only five more questions to be answered.

"What is the inability to recall faces called?"

A shudder left your body at the feeling of the tip of his tongue poking out to meet your neck as he placed a kiss there. Subconsciously, you leaned into his body even more, a silent plea for more. Just when you thought he was going to finally give you more than a lingering touch, he brought his lips to your ear, teeth nipping at the lobe. "F-fuck, Kuroo, please."

"What is the answer baby?"

It was a miracle you could even process a remotely stable thought with how Kuroo was occupying every one of your senses. Your arms felt weak trying to type out the answer into the keyboard, but a soft whimper followed as you were bombarded with another series of fleeting presses of his lips to the exposed skin of your neck and jaw, "That's my smart girl."

He granted you no time for repose before calmly moving onto the next one. "What are the six functional networks determined by resting-state fMRI?"

When you failed to make any sign of answering the question, Kuroo tsked from behind you, a stern slap to your thigh disrupting your daze. "Don't tell me my student is starting to slack off."

"Kuroo…" you weakly moaned.

"Keep going, you're not done yet."

You whimper, but begin to slowly type out the answers, biting your bottom lip as you tried your hardest to focus on the task before you and not the undeniable hardness you could feel pressing into your low back.

The last three questions are completed in record time, your restlessness meeting unbearable levels. After swiftly clicking the small blue 'submit' button, you turn in Kuroo's grasp. Now sitting in his lap, you're able to see the effects having to wait were also evident in the blush across his chest and ears.

"Please touch me, Kuroo. Give me my reward."

You sounded pathetic begging for him, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care anymore. Having gone nearly an hour with only fleeting touches, your mind felt hazy and your body craved the attention Kuroo promised you.

Sure enough, Kuroo was set on keeping his word and two large hands gripped at your hips, bringing them down to rub against the evident bulge in his sweatpants. It was pitiful how absolutely needy you had grown.

Kuroo leaned in close so his face was merely centimeters from your own, your lips threatening to touch as he spoke in a hushed groan, "You did so well, baby. I wouldn't expect anything less from my star pupil."

You could see the spark in his eyes as he stared up at you and you knew you were going to be in for a long night.

[cluttermind]

Without A Parachute (4/?) - Smoke and Ashes

Summary:  Emma worked tremendously hard to give herself a better chance. From group homes, to living in her car, to ivy league student, this English Major’s only solace was escaping her reality through books. One night, Emma comes home to find a small package with only her name on it written in beautiful calligraphy. The package contains a thick, brown leather journal. Emma soon learns that the fiction she writes in the journal eventually becomes reality. Will Emma learn to control this gift, or will she fall too fast into the temptation to change too much? With the help of her good friends August, Robin, and Elsa, and the mysterious, intriguing bartender of The Jolly Roger, Emma discovers just how easy it is to lose control, and how difficult it is to pick up the pieces.

Rating: M

Words: 14,041 total / 3,559 Ch 4

Read on ao3: Beginning | Current

Note: I thought this would take a lot longer to write than it did. This one kind of wrote itself.

I'm adding a trigger warning as the end of this one is a little dark. I hope you enjoy it either way! Things are really starting to move forward plot wise :)

TW: implied attempted sexual assault and under-aged drinking.

//

Chapter 4

“Smoke and Ashes”

I heard the church bells from afar

But we found each other in the dark

And when the smoke does finally pass

We will rise above all the ash

- City and Colour, We Found Each Other In The Dark

“It’s open!” August shouted from the kitchen of his large studio apartment. Emma opened the door and stepped in. “Emma! You’re late!” Ela and Robin called out hellos from their spots around the coffee table.

“Yeah I didn’t sleep much last night. What’s for brunch?” She asked, walking to take her seat next to Elsa on the floor in front of the couch.

“Chocolate chip pancakes” Elsa said, licking her lips. “Hurry up, August! I’m starving!” She whined dramatically, nudging Emma.

“Yeah August. Hurry before we perish.” Emma played along with Elsa, attempting to rile August. Robin chuckled, rolling his eyes at their antics. He was sitting across from Elsa, his laptop already open on the coffee table, typing away at a paper due in a few days.

“Nope. You were late. You can perish.” August retorted, flipping pancakes to be added to the growing pile next to him.

Emma gasped playfully. “Rude.” She pulled out her macroeconomics textbook just as her phone buzzed.

Killian Jones: Leaving before I wake up? Classy, Swan ;)

Emma Swan: I left a note!

Killian Jones: But without a kiss goodbye

Emma grinned at her phone like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Emma Swan: Then I guess it wasn’t goodbye ;)

“Well, well, well.” Elsa toyed, “Who are you texting Emma Swan?” August finally finished making an enormous pile of pancakes and brought the tray over to the table. Robin helped by running to grab some plates and silverware.

“Oh uhm Ruby.” Emma lied. “We’re joking about how awful our econ professor is.”

“Well I’m more interested in what the hell happened on Thursday,” Robin chimed in, handing Emma a plate. So much for being in a bubble.

Emma took a deep breath, hugged her knees to her chest and gave them the CliffNotes version of the story. Elsa rubbed her back the entire time. Saying it out loud somehow didn’t crush her they way it had before, as if the words no longer carried the weight they once did.

“Emma that’s awful!” Elsa nearly yelled when she finished speaking. “Don’t listen to a word he says. What kind of professor does that?!”

“What did he say to you after class?” August asked between taking bites of his pancakes.

“That I don’t have what it takes to be a writer.” Emma said, pausing, Killian’s words from last night echoing in her head. You get to make your own choices. Make them based on what makes you happy. “But he’s wrong.”

Her friends, being the wonderful, supportive people they are, stood strongly by her side. Yelling to each other how ridiculous this professor is, how he shouldn’t be a professor, and how brilliant their friend is. In that moment, Emma felt the least alone she had ever felt - surrounded by intelligent, kind, and loving friends who taught her what it means to be a part of a family. Because that’s what they were to her. They were her family. Her beautiful, ridiculous family.

After the yelling had died down and the excessively large pile of pancakes had been eaten, they spent all day studying, taking only a few short snack breaks. Before they knew it, it was dark outside. It was usually around now that they’d quit for the night, having finished enough to go the rest of the weekend relaxing. August nearly slammed his book shut, making the rest of them flinch.

“Geez, August. What’d the book ever do to you?” Robin asked.

“It existed.” August quipped, dramatically. “Can we be done? I need to be done.”

“I think I’ve done all I can for this weekend too.” Elsa said, closing her laptop. “What’re we doing tonight? Movies? Pizza?”

“I could go for a drink, honesty.” Robin responded, mirroring Elsa as he closed his own laptop.

“Drinks anywhere that also has food is usually expensive.” Emma stated.

“Yeah I guess.” August paused. “Oh! What about The Jolly Roger? It’s not that expensive right? Plus if I remember correctly, their onion rings are insane.” August was nearly salivating remembering the onion rings. The last time they had gone together was sometime last semester to celebrate the end of midterms.

“Right! I forgot how good those were.” Elsa responded. “Okay if we’re actually going out I need to change.”

“I’m so hungry. You look fine. Let’s just go.” August responded. Emma giggled about how the tables have turned since this morning when they were the ones complaining about being hungry.

“I’m not going to a bar in leggings and a sweatshirt.” Elsa threw her things in her bag. “Emma and I will meet you guys there in an hour. I have this beautiful dress that you just have to wear tonight.”

“Oh this isn’t an outing outing! We’re going for food!” Robin groaned.

“If we’re going to a bar, we’re going to a bar . It’s been way too long since we actually went out.” Elsa claimed. There was no arguing with her. She was pretty determined to make this happen. Plus, she wasn’t wrong. It had been a while since they went out together. She considered texting Killian to make sure he was working, but she knew he would be since he took yesterday off and thought she’d surprise him.

Emma shrugged and grabbed her things while August grumbled, grabbing the remote to turn the TV on for a bit.  She followed Elsa out the door. At Elsa’s dorm, she handed Emma a simple, low cut, black dress. It was tight, ruched, and hugged her in all the right places. And the glitter got everywhere. Despite Emma’s protests about the glitter, Elsa insisted she wear it. She also insisted that Emma let her do her makeup and that she wear the black heals that ‘go so perfectly with it it’d be a cardinal sin not to wear them.’ Eventually Emma got to look at herself in the mirror, her dainty gold chain with a small gold book charm falling against her bare chest above the deep neckline of the black dress. Elsa was right, the shoes did go perfectly. And her red leather jacket actually pulled the look together.

Except it was freezing outside. Like actually freezing. All she wanted was her sweatshirt that was in her backpack that was now sitting in Elsa’s room.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.” Emma said, shivering as they waited for the bus.

“Oh come on! It’s not that cold. Plus you look great.”

“August might kill us. We’re so late.”

“We’re 20 minutes late.”

“We’re 30 minutes late Elsa.” Emma laughed as Elsa shugged, clearly not caring about August’s desire for food as they finally stepped onto the slightly crowded bus.

“August will live.”

“I’m more concerned about Robin having to deal with him.” Really what Emma was nervous about was seeing Killian. Butterflies filled her stomach when she thought about seeing him in something other than jeans and a sweater.

15 minutes later, they walked through the doors of The Jolly Roger 45 minutes late. Emma was grateful for the warmth of the pub. She instantly spotted August waving them over. He and Robin had already ordered and had food in front of them.

“Look who finally decided to show up.” Robin joked, drinking the last of his beer.

“Blame Elsa.” Emma playfully nudged her friend next to her.

“Fine fine. This round’s on me. Emma help me with the drinks?”  Elsa said, leading them to the bar.

That’s when Emma saw him, handing a customer a drink at the bar. Part of her wanted to run and hir, the other part of her wanted to run to him. He looked up from his customer and looked in her direction. She swore her heart nearly stopped when he smiled at her, eyes drinking her in.

“Swan.” Killian said, grinning at her as they approached. “Isn’t this a surprise. I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

I did say it wasn’t goodbye earlier, didn’t I? Emma thought.

“You two know each other?” Elsa asked.

“Aye. We do.” Killian said.

“Killian owns the pub. I come here to study during the week when it’s quiet. Sometimes he feeds me.” Emma said. Killian raised an eyebrow at her.  “Okay fine. He feeds me a lot. Killian this is my friend Elsa. Elsa, this is Killian.” Elsa was staring wide-eyed at Emma, mouth open, silently screaming how did you not tell me about him?!  

��Nice to meet you lass.” Killian said politely. His eyes, however, never left Emma’s and Elsa turned her attention back to him. “What can I get you?”

“4 beers and 4 shots of tequila.” Elsa chimed.

“Grilled cheese?” Killian asked Emma.

“With onion rings apparently. The thought of Smee’s onion rings were making August drool earlier. And make it two.” She responded as Killian poured their shots and set them in front of them. Elsa carefully grabbed three of them, letting Emma know she’ll meet her back at the table. Emma downed her shot quickly, wincing as the clear liquid burned her throat. Killian’s gaze sent a warmth up her neck and to her cheeks.

“You look nice, Swan.” He said eventually, pouring them each a shot. Killian held his glass to gently tap it against hers. They both downed the shot.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Aye, I know that, love. But I wear this every day.” Killian leaned forward on the bar in front of her. “So what’s the fun fact of the day?”

Emma looked confused. “The what?”

“You usually greet me with a weird fact whenever you come in here.” He paid attention. He listened to me , Emma thought. Part of her thought he never paid attention to the random things that came out of her mouth. She smiled. He was listening.

So she took a risk. “The whole button down, vest, fitted jeans thing really works for you.” Emma flirted.

Killian took the bait, smirking and raising an eyebrow at her, his voice dropping to a place she hadn’t heard before. “That black dress is really working for me. And I happen to quite like the red leather, love” Emma blushed bright red, her face matching the color of her jacket, and Killian pushed back against the bar, standing straight again. “Your friends are waiting for you. I’ll have Ruby bring your drinks in a second.”

“Tell Smee to rush that grilled cheese. I’m starving.” Emma said as she walked away, returning to the table her friends were at.

“Excuse me but who was that? What was that?” Elsa asked immediately.

“He’s the owner. I told you.” Emma stated, trying to avoid that conversation. “We’re friends.”

“Yeah, okay.” Elsa scoffed. Ruby brought over their drinks and another round of shots, and Elsa’s attention was suddenly elsewhere.

“Hey Emma! The shots are on the Captain.” Ruby said as she set everything down. “Anything else I can get you?”

Emma looked over at the bar to see Killian wink at her. She smiled and rolled her eyes at him. “I think we’re good."

For over an hour, they ate a little too much, drank a bit, and gossiped a little too much about the rumor going around the English Department that a student was sleeping with a professor. After a while Elsa went to get another drink and Robin went to talk to some friends in one of his classes, leaving August and Emma alone at the table.

“Elsa’s flirting with the bartender.” August commented.

Emma's eyes went wide with . . . jealousy? Not that Emma had any reason to be jealous. Killian could flirt with whomever he chose to. They spent one night together, literally sleeping. It didn’t mean anything. Did it?  

August noted her confusion and nodded his head in Elsa’s direction. Emma turned to look where he was motioning to. Elsa was leaning forward on the bar talking to Ruby. They were giggling and Elsa was blushing, sipping on her drink.

“She looks happy” Emma smiled. “And they’re definitely flirting.”

“Oh yeah they’re not subtle at all.”

A song came over the speakers that Elsa and Emma both love. Emma watched as Ruby bothered Killian into turning the volume up and Elsa looked back at Emma, grinning from ear to ear. They had danced to this song hundreds of times in Elsa’s dorm and August’s apartment. Elsa nearly ran over to her, pulling her to her feet. They were nearly screaming the lyrics at each other, their hips swaying with the music. It wasn’t long before most of the pub was dancing with them.

Killian laughed as he watched Emma. He had never seen her this carefree, this full of life. The sight of her with her friends having fun sent a shiver of warmth through his body. As unsettling as that was, he couldn’t take his eyes off her, wanting to save this image of her forever.

“Dance with her.” Ruby said to him, pulling Killian out of the trance Emma had put him in.

“What?”

“Go dance with her. I’ll manage the bar for a bit.” Ruby held her hand out for his phone so she could keep the music going. He rolled his eyes, handing it over. As the song ended Ruby kept the energy going by putting on one of her carefully curated dance party playlists.

Killian snuck up behind Emma, hands grabbing her waist from behind. “Hi, love,” he said into her ear, laughing as she squealed from the unexpected touch

Emma turned her head back to smile at him, recognizing his thick accent. “Killian!” She laughed, clearly a little tipsy by now. Emma leaned back against him, her body still swaying with the beat of the music that somehow keeps getting louder, her ass moving fluidly against his hips. Elsa bounced away, making her way over to Ruby at the bar, leaving Emma and Killian as alone as two people could be in a crowded pub.

Killian ran his hands up her sides, entirely lost in Emma and the music. She turned around, laughing in his arms. Her hands rested on his shoulders and his found their place on her hips, pulling her close to him.

She was singing along to the music entirely off key on purpose And he laughed at her, his body moving easily with and against hers. Killing kept her tight against him. If he wasn’t working, if they weren’t in a crowded room, Emma might find her hands wandering places other than where they were playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

Killian’s blue eyes locked on hers and she struggled to catch her breath. Emma’s entire body was humming in reaction to the way he looked at her and the way his hands rested possessively on her hips. Suddenly Emma crashed her lips against his, pulling him closer to her. Shocked for a brief second, Killian’s eyes shut as he kissed her back, his passion, his eagerness matching Emma’s. His arms wrapped tightly around her and the world fell away around them. Emma’s entire body was on fire as she kissed him. She kissed him like she had been waiting to kiss him her whole life. He kissed her like she could heal every broken piece of him.

Then the song changed and Killian pulled back.

“Wow” Emma breathed, finally releasing the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding for so long.

“Aye." He grinned. "I have to get back to work, love,” Killian said, a tinge of disappointment noticeable in his voice as he stepped back, putting distance between them. “To be continued.”

Emma smirked at him as she made her way back to her table. August was lost in the crowd, as was Robin. She finished off the rest of her drink before joining Elsa, who was clearly oblivious to everything other than the cute bartender in front of her. Emma bumped her with her hip playfully.

“So he’s hot .” Elsa whispered, barely loud enough for Emma to hear over the music.

“He’s not bad.” Emma smirked before confiding in her friend. “I kissed him.”

“Stop.” Elsa gasped. “Tell me everything.”

“Oi, love. I didn’t take you to be the type to kiss and tell.” She heard Killian tease. Her face went bright red. She hadn’t realized he was standing so close or that she was talking as loud as she was.

“Eh it was average.” Emma teased back, pretending to ignore him while she continued her conversation with Elsa. “He could use some practice.”

Killian raised his eyebrows at her, and leaned in towards her across the bar. “Is that a proposition, Swan?”

“Potentially.” Emma’s head was starting to spin. “I think I’m going to head home though. I have a bit of a headache.”

“Do you want me to walk with you?” Elsa asked.

“Nah it’s just a few blocks. I’ll be fine. You have fun.” Emma said. “Do you know where August and Robin went?”

“Robin left a few minutes ago with that girl from his philosophy class. I think her name was Regina?”

“Hm go Robin.”

“August’s at the other end of the bar with some guys I don’t know.”

“Ah well, I’ll let him be. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” Emma asked, pulling Elsa into a hug.

“Definitely.”

Emma grabbed her jacket, bracing herself against the cold as much as possible. Everything was spinning around her. She didn’t remember having that much to drink. Her head was killing her. She stumbled a bit. These damn shoes . She felt sick, and dizzy, and weak. She heard footsteps behind her. Her legs gave out beneath her. Someone grabbed her upper arm tightly - too tightly - to keep her upright. Emma flinched at the pain in her arm. Suddenly her body was flush against another's, someone who she didn’t recognize.

“Let go.” Emma protested as much as she could but her body was betraying her.

“Shut up,” the man snarled at her. His voice was dark and rough.

It hit Emma like an earthquake, slow and confusing at first before the earth split beneath her. It hit her that this wouldn’t end well. There were few versions of stories like this that did. As a writer, as a woman, she knew. Emma didn’t know when she started crying. The cold wind felt colder against her wet cheeks and the dread of what would come next filled every fiber of her being.

And while she wasn’t religious, a familiar prayer popped into her head, a shadow of a memory from some of the religious-based group homes she had found herself in.

Hail Mary, full of Grace

She wanted to jerk her arm out of his grip, hit him wherever she was able too. She couldn’t tell if it was the fear or something else that was paralyzing her.

The Lord is with Thee

He walked her a few steps forward, her feet dragging against the sidewalk. No. No. No. Please. Even her voice was betraying her. His grip on her arm tightened when she tried everything she could to pull away.

Blessed art thou among women

Her body was trembling yet her mind was blank. Thoughts beyond the plea to a God she didn’t believe in were unable, unwilling to form. Emma refused to think about anything beyond the time it took for one foot to be dragged in front of the other. She couldn’t remember the next line of the prayer. She skipped it. Everything was simultaneously happening too fast and too slow.

Hail Mary, Mother of God

She could barely keep her eyes open or her body standing. She had to lean against him for support. This made Emma sick to her stomach. Tears fell faster as she begged to see tomorrow.

Pray for us sinners, now, and at the hour of our death --

“Swan! You forgot your phone!” Killian called as he ran out to catch Emma. His voice cut through the night, interrupting the final word of her petition.

“LET HER GO!” She heard Killian run towards her.

The man in the hoodie cursed when he heard Killian’s voice and ripped Emma’s necklace from her neck. “I’ll get you one day, pretty. One day you’ll really fall and I’ll be waiting,” he whispered harshly. The man tossed Emma to the ground, discarding her from his grip, before sprinting away. Her head hit the concrete sidewalk. Pain and relief and fear and disgust and guilt washed over her.

Killian was kneeling at her side in an instant. “Emma, are you okay?” His accent was thick with concern as he lifted her head off the sidewalk. Everything was still spinning. Everything was still slipping away.

She opened her wet eyes to see Killian close to her. Everything was going dark. Everything was spinning. The only thing in focus was Killian’s blue eyes. Emma felt like she was drowning and the world around her was going dark.

Even though she felt herself sinking deeper, Killian’s touch, his presence, his voice gave her the strength to allow the word she’d been wanting to scream for the past minute and a half finally escape her lips.

“Help.”

[hairasuntouchedaspartoftheamazon]

Okay Tumblr, I’m about to do a stupid thing and ask for validation on some of my original writing. I’ve been working on a novel for a while now, and while I don’t have nearly as much to show for it as I would like, I do have this prologue. 

The story it is is attached to is long and complicated and queer and magical and I love it. My question to you fine internet denizens is: after reading this prologue, would you keep reading this book? 

(If you have follow up questions about this story at all, please ask because I love blabbing about this and I’m considering making a side blog just about this story because I want to develop it and hopefully get it published one day)

My buds: @a-l-ias @madre-des-leones @books-andbiscuits @chihuahuapowersgo @oopstheregoesthatlifeofmine @ivneess @elissastillstands @i-am-triple-a @becca-becky @goddess-of-fluff (You are all under absolutely no obligation to read this, I just think you’ll get a kick out of it)

So, without any further ado, I give you the prologue to Cheshire Moon:

Prologue: In Which It’s The End of the World As We Know It

Here is the boy on his bicycle. It is a dark and stormy night, a strange night for a bike ride. A Monday night as it would happen. Just goes to show that even after the events collectively referred to as “the Apocalypse” have ravaged the Earth and destroyed the capitalist institutions such as bureaucratic schools and offices that made certain weekdays widely hated, Mondays are still, and will always be, awful.

So here is the boy on a bicycle twenty years after the Apocalypse. He is pedaling madly through woods that had once been somewhat tamed. The woods were made of pine and maple and oak, the staples of a Northeast American forest, but they were also more than that. See, when nature is left to its own devices, even forests once populated with such things as marked hiking trails and outdoor recreation areas can turn into something quite different. This forest, once a nature preserve belonging to the state of New York, was now a wildwood. Things not quite friendly and not quite mundane and things not evil but also certainly not kind to trespassers lived in the dark spaces between these trees.

So here is the boy on a bicycle, riding through a wildwood full of dangerous things not kind to humans on a stormy Monday night twenty years after the Apocalypse. This is odd for three reasons.

First, as previously mentioned, it was a rainy night. And not a little drizzle, May-Day morning kind of rain that you barely needed an umbrella for, but a sky-splitting, earth-shaking, world-flooding howler of a storm. Each bolt of lightning ripped the sky apart; every roll of thunder shook the ground; the howling wind threatened to send even the oldest trees crashing to the ground. Surrounded by all of this, beneath the trees and in the mud, was the boy on his bicycle. 

The bicycle was the second odd thing. Despite the absolute hell it’s rider was currently putting it through (he wasn’t biking on a path, you see, just careening through the underbrush as it suited him; scratching the paint, splattering it with mud, and getting half a forest worth of sticks stuck in the wheel spokes), it was a very nice bike. A ten-speed, all-terrain, for-serious-athletes-only sort of bicycle. In another life, it would have been the property of some over-achieving businesswoman, the sort who did triathlons on the weekends and polished it with special bicycle wax three times a week. In this lifetime it had been stolen from an abandoned sporting goods store and aggressively spray-painted black because its new owner had been in a mood that day. There was also a laptop precariously duct-taped to the handlebars. Surrounding the ancient laptop was a clear plastic container, which several hours earlier had been looted from an old Target store and taped over the handlebars with extreme prejudice to protect the computer from the coming rain. 

The third odd thing was what the rider of this bike was doing. He wasn’t just soaked to the bone while pedaling full speed through the dark and rain and underbrush, with no light to guide him other than the faint glow of the computer screen. He was also singing at the top of his lungs.

“It’s the end of the world as we know it! It’s the end of the world as we know!-oh!-” He swerves to avoid a tree- “Oh, it! It’s the end of the world as we know it, and I FEEEEEEL FINEEEE!” He had a deranged smile on his face, the kind adrenaline junkies get when they’re doing something supremely idiotic while enjoying themselves immensely, and couldn't be damned to care about the consequences. He was quite possibly insane, more likely sleep-deprived.

Just then, the computer started beeping. The boy quickly brought the bike to a stop, crashing through a puddle and narrowly missing a large rock that would have brought this story to an end much quicker. Still singing nonsensical lyrics to himself- “Lenny Bruce, Lester Bangs, birthday party, cheesecake”- he dismounted, taking something small and electrical out of the bag he wore over his shoulder.  He hit the device a few times, cursed twice, and hit it again before it finally turned on with a beep and a few flashing lights. The light illuminated his face, pale and tired and shivering. Splashes of mud on his face gave the appearance of more freckles than he actually had. He wiped his long, rain-drenched hair out of his eyes to peer at the computer screen before punching some coordinates into the handheld device. A map appeared on the smaller screen. Blue vector lines appear, joined by two small dots, one green, one red. As he moved, the red dot moved. “Excellent,” he whispered to himself before walking deeper into the woods, leaving his bike behind. It would be the last time he saw that bike.

Walking through the rain was much harder than biking through it. Every minute or so, he had to stop and pull his boots out of the shin-deep mud. Twice he slipped, spreading mud all over his front. He refused to think about the state of his hair, despite the fact that it smelled like some of the wet matter coating it might not be mud. He slipped a third time, and the device in his hand went flying off into the wet night, never to be seen again. He paused for a moment, staring pitifully at where his device had disappeared before proceeding to curse loudly and creatively in at least three languages; insulting not only the stupid forest and the gods-damned rain, but his own stupidity and the idiocy of his informant for failing to tell him about this job before it became a time-sensitive matter that resulted in him being covered in enough mud to pass as a very short golem……

He went on like that for awhile before continuing his walk. The past few days had been incredibly frustrating, and there was a lot of bottled up anger to be released. As absolutely no one listened, he cursed the Trader caravan who treated him worse than the dirt on their boots, the scavengers who’d stolen his good knife last week, and the state of his life in general, gods give him a sign that he shouldn’t end it all right now, just climb up a tree and get struck by lightning…

A particularly loud crack of thunder erupted just then, followed by a bright burst of lightning that was a bit too close for comfort. It seemed like the gods were calling him on his bluff. With a world-weary sigh, he shoved his frustrations back down and continued walking into the woods. First and foremost was the mission, he reminded himself. There would be time for pity parties later.

It seemed like the universe was mocking him at that moment; as he gathered his convictions, the storm worsened. He would have said it was impossible, but the rain came down harder, as if trying to tell him that just lying down in the mud forever was so much simpler than trying to be a hero, who was he anyway, to try and save the world…He began to sing again, attempting to combat the darkness of the weather and his mind. “Eye of a hurricane, listen to yourself churn, world serves its own needs, don’t miserve your own needs…” He walks to the tune of the highly appropriate song, keeping his head up and eyes peeled for his destination.Finding anything in this weather would take nothing short of divine intervention, possibly by multiple gods, but find something he does. There, on his right, almost outside his field of vision, a faint glow in the darkness of the night. He smiled, a wild thing, before running full tilt towards the glow. 

As he got closer, it became clear that the glow was coming from the ground itself, a golden line stretching as far as the eye can see in either direction. The glow is slowly intensifying, but he’s arrived in time. He takes another device out of his bag, this one about the size of his head. It looked like if someone had melted down several computers, a tacky bachelor’s pad worth of chrome plating, and a rotary phone before mashing them all together and drenching the entire thing in white paint. That really wasn’t far off from the actual process used to create the gadget, which was of his own invention. He was rather proud of it, especially as it was one of a select few of his projects that had been completed without any magical assistance whatsoever.

With the golden glow lighting his way, he steps forward and gently places the SaviorBlob(that was what he had named the blobby thing) directly onto the line, aligning one of the sticky-outy metal bits towards magnetic north. Then he takes a carefully measured number of steps to the right, taking a second SaviorBlob out of his bag and placing it on the line. Again, he takes a carefully measured number of steps to the right, watching his feet while taking a third and final SaviorBlob out of his bag. He’s adjusting the magnetic alignment when he hears a loud grunt. He looks up. Then he starts running. 

A roar erupts from the massive creature straddling the line. Something vaguely resembling the idea of an arm erupts from the darkness, grabbing the boy by the back of his jacket and bringing him face to face with the rotting corpse of something that had never been properly alive. Desperate, he throws the remaining SaviorBlob at the creature’s face with surprising force, but it bounces off harmlessly. The creature roars again, throwing the boy up in the air only to snatch him up again, this time around the waist. With another arm, it sweeps the SaviorBlobs off the line, sending them flying into the night. 

Satisfied, it returns its attention to the boy trying to free himself, slowly pulling him closer as it opens it’s stinking maw wide. The boy watches, eyes wide, heart pounding. He waits. He waits. Then he strikes. A second before the darkness would swallow him whole, he pulls a knife from his boot and drives it deep into a mass of twisted flesh. 

As the creature flails, he rips off one of his many necklaces and shoves it down the creatures throat, kicking away at the same time and falling to the ground. His jacket is torn to pieces, tangling around the arm covered in dark acid from the creature’s mouth. 

The creature roars and lashes out, clawing at it’s wound with one arm and pinning the boy by his leg with another. The touch is dirty and so cold it burns, the antithesis of everything alive. The boy screams for the first time. Another twisted and corrupted limb is pressed to the glowing line, and the creature rears its head and sings, a single high piercing note a human could never hope to replicate. 

The boy struggles, trying to pull away from the pain, but he’s stuck fast. As the creature continues to sing, the light of the line grows brighter, turning from golden to white hot. The air itself is resonating with the impossibly high note, the whole world shaking as the boy tries to twist free and cover his ears from the onslaught of pure noise. With a final cry of pain, he escapes the creature’s hold, trying to run, trying to get as far away as possible...BOOM. The world goes white. He flies through the air, hitting a tree with a CRACK. Darkness falls immediately.

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

I WILL TAKE ANY AND ALL CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM

I WANT TO MAKE THIS GOOD 

I WILL ALSO BLAB ABOUT THE CHARACTERS SO MUCH, SPOILER THEY”RE ALL QUEER AND MOST ARE POC. 

[saltyslack-toast]

#Knock The Book 2: The Devil All the Time

WELL, I MADE IT TO THE 2nd BOOK REVIEW OF MINE, MEANS THAT I’M A PASSIONATE AND PERSISTENT BITCH, PERIODT. No actually I’m just bored and got really nothing to do, so here I am making judgmental, invalid and uncritical book review just to ease my guilt for doing nothing at home (just so my mom see me working through my laptop).

Okay The Devil All the Time is actually my first English book. The story of how I got this book as a matter of fact is quite irritating and funny at the same time. My uni friend, she saw this book in a modest book bazaar near her hometown. She was reading the title and the word ‘devil’ just remind her of me, she bought it and just gave it straight to me…... I’m sad but like thankful???

It’s a secondhand and hardcover book but I don’t really mind, considering the fact that the quality is still very nice though, except the worn spots stained all over the cover that make the book looks very old. My friend bought this only for RP 25.000, yes dude you’re not misread this shit, it was THAT CHEAP (whoever sell and own this book before me, I really appreciate it). Although if you want to buy the new one, you can get this book for USD 26.95 which converted in rupiah would be RP 407.500, yeah its cost pretty fancy for broke students like us and I don’t know if the book’s supposed to be available in your local bookstore but I think you can find it in worldwide shipping online store like amazon or any other shop perhaps. The book’s cover illustrate a dying white mutt hanging on the ‘log’ and bunch of cross everywhere, the cover is actually make sense when you read the book. It published in 2011 by doubleday in United States of America. The Author is Donald Ray Pollock, and you can find the sum information about his background written on the cover, but based form the book’s cover you can also check his website in donaldraypollock.com but when I checked, I’m not sure if it’s really his website since it just like pest control website (LMAOO I HAD NO IDEA FR). Anyway,

Let’s go breaking down the book!

“… Too much religion could be as bad as too little, maybe even worse, but moderation was just not in her husband’s nature”

The whole story in this book, basically give you portraits regarding the life of lunatics in the time after WWII. Nope, there is no sums up about the events happened in that moment so chill y’all non-historical enthusiast bitches. This book gonna give you a bizarre experience reading it, the first 10 pages of this book was already psychedelic, I assure that shit. Have you watched Games of Thrones series on HBO? It’s chilling right how Ned Stark, the protagonist of the main series died in the first season???? EXACTLY that was the vibes u got after reading the first chapter and get crazier every time u read forward. By the way, this book embodied 7 chapters and 55 sub-chapters, the chapter in odd and even numbers has 2 different main focuses on each characteristic exist, here I sum it up for you:

On the odd numbers chapters (1, 3, and so on), the central story of these chapters is circling among the family of Willard Russel, his Mom Emma and Uncle Earskell and also those 2 insane peeps Roy Laferty and Theodore. Willard Russel used to be a navy army and a bit skeptical dealing with religion issues just like his uncle, but his mom has always been a devoted worshiper. Willard married to the beautiful and kind-hearted women named Charlotte and they was given a son named Arvin Eugene Russel, everything was normal until Charlotte got sick and Willard gone crazy praying to god for his wife’s recovery and poor little Arvin has to suffer the predicament by his own self. Their stories always give me religious-fanaticism-gloomy vibes (is that even make sense??). Don’t even get me started with the life stories of the two brutes-ass man, Roy Laferty and Theodore they were used to be ‘preacher’ in Emma and young Willard’s Church. Nothing I could say further because it’s gonna be a major spoiler for you, but their stories really giving you insights of how frustration and fanaticism allow people to do something beyond their common sense.

“You remember what I told you the other day?” He asked Arvin

“About the boys on the bus?,”

“Well, that’s what I meant, you just got to pick the right time”

On the even numbers chapters (2, 4, and so on), the main tales is pertaining on the journey of Handerson couple, Carl and Sandy. They were like the Bonnie and Clyde but sad and exploitative version in this book. Carl is a ‘photographer’ and sandy working as a waitress in a café called Wooden Spoon (Which the place where Charlotte used to work as a waitress and the place she met Willard for the first time as well). During summertime they got this ‘ritual’ ((but not in a religious way)) where they drive to different states and give a ride to the hitchhikers found on the way, then Carl forcefully offer them to fuck Sandy for free (HIS OWN WIFE) while he took pictures of them fucking and after that Carl kill them and take all the money those hitchhikers got in their pocket (dude I can’t even judge anything). But to be honest, I’m not a fan of these two characters because they were all so ANNOYING to death. And then there is Bodecker Lee who’s a police and also Sandy’s brother, ok that’s it, I’m not gonna give you any spoilers.

“… He went down the street and sat on a bench in a park the rest of the day thinking about killing himself instead. Something broke in him that day. For the first time he could see that his whole life added up to absolutely nothing…”

You might be confused since there are quite a lot of keen characters in this book but there’s a point where all these bitches are relating to each other, so chill y’all impatient gripe-ass. Overall, the flow of the story is undoubtedly interesting for you to keep going throughout the whole story, because every phase gonna make you wondering about next things happened to them. But, the transitions among every chapters is quite uncomfortable for me, because sometimes when the story has reached its climax there is no resolutions coming to solve the problem immediately, and you’re faced to read the new chapter with a whole different setting and characters so it’s kind of ruining the vibes and emotions the book has made me, but again this just my personal preference so please don’t judge (while everything I did right now is judging inaccurately).

“He realized that he would never preach again, but that was all right. He’d never been much good at it anyway. Most people just wanted to hear the cripple play”

However, what I like the most from this book is the deepening of every character exists is so fascinating, even for just the side or supporting character (for god sake I’m sorry idk what to called a character that isn’t the main one), for example a bus driver in Meade, Ohio which Willard talked to when he was on the way home after the war ended, the narration wrapped and portraits the driver’s life perfectly without make us bored, and there’s still a bunch of interesting narration about the life of the side characters in this book that also as odds and intriguing as the main character’s background (jesus, everything happened and everyone in this book is just so strange and peculiar I swear to god). The story finished in a most tragic-beautiful but still gloomy way, even though it’s quite predictable but still a very good closing for me personally. To be noted, on the way to the end of the story, there will be emerge another asshole priest character named Preston Teagardin, ready to shake you up until you finish the book. But still, let’s said this particular ‘last minute character’ has proving that the author is paying so much attention of how the story ended isn’t leaving any 'rush-made' impression (this shit might confused you I’m sorry my English hasn’t got any better *sorry hand sign* *sorry hand sign* *sorry hand sign*). # hashtag attention to the detail bro.

Holy crap, that’s the first time I’m almost able to cut all the bullshit I intend to bring it up here.

This book is one of my top 5 books that you have to read once in a life time (although I haven’t discover the other four, omg im sorry y’all). Little information for you that the first time I read this book (yeah I read it for quite few times) is when the campaign of presidential election era, which in Indonesia the religious are pretty sentimental issues, some of the people in my country suddenly became those annoying fanatical preachers, man I can’t stand it. And this book is just precisely relating to that condition and I get to know at least a glance of what the heck odds things happened in their minds, since you know fanaticism and stupidity doesn’t hit only on particular group of religions, race, gender or anything, we can all be stupid and brainless (especially me because I basically have no brain). There probably quite many scenes that is pretty disturbing to read (I don’t know if people could be triggered by it???? But I guess so) so yeah a bit warning. Overall, I genuinely recommend this book for you guys because every element in this book is almost perfect, the storylines, bold characters, and the RARE AND STRANGE AND SENSITIVE topic promote by the author in this novel is totally a BOOM. Don’t worry reading this book not going to give you those agnostic and atheist vibes HAHA chill I still consider myself a devoted Muslim tho (hashtag masyaallah ukthi).

By the way before I wrapped it up, I hear that this book will be made into a netflix film. WELL, of course I’m excited because the casts are so amazing, and I love Netflix adaptation and I enjoy watch movies as much as I read books (again, unnecessary information of mine *sorry hand sign*). I found that the release date is postponed from the origin plan in 15th May (which is three days ago from I posted this on my page) due to I don’t know perhaps corona because that bitch has ruined everyone in the world’s schedule, but for real I can’t find the exact information regarding to the updated release date, so while you wait the film to launch, why don’t you just go read the book first? I assure you this one not gonna give you any disappointment.

I think that would be it for this 2nd rubbish book review of mine. Although, I think I made a little progressive from the first one (OR MAYBE NOT???? I’M SORRY Y’ALL) but of course there’s still much deficiency I served. Still, I hope my writing get better in the process of making this whole novel of reviewing book inaccurately. To be honest, I wrote this shit not for getting any engagements or audience but for my own satisfied HAHA. So yeah I’m literally comfortable writing for nothing. But bitch guess what I’m just gonna keep going, until I could professionally writing and make it for a living? Well, amen for that.

Xiao, See you in Advance!

[spaceskam]

I Never Quite Let You Go

For @michaelguerinweek day 3: favorite michael dynamic (yes i stole this from the edit prompt, idk if this fits the fic prompt)

Summary: Everyone is struggling to deal with Michael and Rosa being friends.

ao3

Maria had no idea what she was going to find when she followed Michael’s hysterical directions.

It was all fine whenever he was playing the guitar and then he lost it. Something in him just snapped and he started freaking out, struggling to find his keys through his tears. Maria thought it was insane that he wanted to drive like that, but he insisted he had to go, so she offered to drive. Now, as they drove into the desert, she was regretting the offer.

She regretted it even more when he made her skid to a stop in a random place and jumped out while the car was still moving. She put the truck in park and ran after him, hoping to make sure he didn’t do anything too stupid.

A cave came into sight that he was barrelling towards and was able to catch up just as they stumbled inside. Maria froze as she saw a giant purple-blue glow with none other than Max Evans inside. What the hell?

“Papi?” The voice was unmistakable and Maria was again thrust into shock as she turned towards it. Rosa stood alive and breathing with a blanket in lieu of clothing. Before she could make a move, Michael ran to her. Rosa seemed to have no caution for modesty as she wrapped him in her arms, pulling him down to tuck his head under her chin. “You’re so old and scruffy, what the fuck.”

“How are you alive?” Maria whispered and Rosa just smiled, opening an arm for her. Maria easily molded into the hug, not even bothering that Michael was just a blubbering mess as he clutched onto her. She gave him an arm around him as well.

None of the made any sense but she was willing to accept it if it meant Rosa was here and hugging her.

-

“I can’t believe you.”

“Excuse me?”

Isobel shook her head as she watched Michael sip his coffee, going back and forth between giving her full attention and texting Rosa. It was so strange seeing him actually having a normal friendship with someone. They’d both insisted they were close in high school, but just no one noticed. Isobel feels like she would’ve noticed and that now they were just being more open about it rather than sneaking around.

“For a decade, you thought I killed your friend and you never said anything,” Isobel scoffed, shaking her head. She tried not to focus on how bad it hurt that he never mentioned it and was never allowed to grieve properly because of it.

Michael shrugged as if it didn’t matter. It mattered. “Look, there was nothing I could do. I knew you weren’t in your right mind and since she was dead, you and Max were all I had left. I needed to protect you, I couldn’t put my own feelings first.”

Her chest felt a sharp pang and she looked down at her own coffee. She hated that she never noticed. God, how had she never noticed?

-

“Rosa, seriously?”

Liz couldn’t help but be confused as Rosa watched Michael bend over the hood of the old car he’d found for her.

“What?” she laughed, “He got hot.”

“I can’t believe I never knew you two were even friends, much less close enough that you let a white boy call you 'Mami’,” Liz scoffed, shaking her head. Rosa shrugged and tilted her head as if it would give her a better view of his ass in his faded jeans.

“I keep good company,” she said and a smile broke out on her face, “Besides, it’s really funny when he says it.”

“Mami!” Michael called as if on cue, coming closer with sweat dripping down his bare chest. Liz couldn’t help but cringe as she heard Rosa sigh happily. “I forgot to tell you, I heard some old lady talkin’ about you.”

The two women raised their eyebrows in intrigue. “Do tell.”

“Apparently, the similarity between Elena Valenti and Rosa Ortecho has not gone unnoticed,” he grinned, leaning over her chair. Liz scrunched up her nose as they got close without a thought. She hated when they did that. She felt like she was intruding even though they insisted it was nothing more than friendship. “Heard that there’s a big theory that there’s some affair in the Valenti bloodline. No one even thinks it’s fishy.”

“Then it looks like Alex’s idea is working,” Rosa mused. Michael smiled wider at the name.

“Are we surprised?” he asked before dropping a kiss to her head which caused a smile. “Gonna go shower.”

“Are you sure it’s platonic? You know you can tell me,” Liz said seriously once he disappeared into the airstream. Rosa groaned, rolling her eyes.

“Yes, Liz, it’s nothing,” she insisted, “Michael is extremely into Alex and I have my eye on someone a little shorter and a little more woman. I think it’s bullshit that two people can’t be affectionate without it having to be something other than friendship.”

“I guess,” Liz said, though she still had her suspicions. She didn’t want anyone to get hurt because of the weird relationship between them. Still, Rosa shook her head.

“It’s not really a guess situation, Liz. That’s how it was when he was 16 and had never had anyone touch him that wasn’t violent. He deserves someone who doesn’t have ulterior motives and I don’t,” Rosa insisted, “Besides, I don’t have to defend my friendship.” Liz nodded despite remaining skeptical.

“Okay, you’re right.”

-

“Get out!”

“I am too fucking old to be thrown out of a girl’s bed by her dad, Valenti! Fuck off!”

Kyle was fuming as he watched Rosa laugh and Guerin hold a pillow over his head. All he was doing was trying to do his brotherly duties and wake her up so she wouldn’t be late for work, but he instead found her in bed with Guerin which was absolutely not okay. Rosa had no pants on and Guerin had no shirt or pants on and he did not approve.

“She is too young for you! She is 19! Get out!” Kyle yelled again, snatching the pillow away from him. Guerin made a face, rolling over.

“He literally stays over all the time, Kyle, calm down,” Rosa laughed. That did not calm him down.

“She is nineteen, Guerin!”

“We’re not fucking, holy shit.”

“You’re half-naked in her bed!”

“It’s 102 degrees outside!”

“I don’t care! Doesn’t give you the right to be in bed with a teenage girl!”

“I didn’t do anything! And if I did, multiple people, including my boyfriend, would probably skin me alive so leave me alone!” Guerin shouted, crossing his arms over his head. “And, by the way, no one said anything when she was 18 and I was barely 16 and sleeping half-naked in her bed, so I feel like there’s some double standards here!” Rosa pouted in adoration, reaching out to rub his back.

“You alright, Papi? Bad wake up call?” she cooed. Guerin simply whined in response. Kyle was about to lose it. “Also I’m technically 30, so…” Rosa said, giving him a wild smile. Kyle huffed and turned to storm out.

He was going to tell Alex about this.

-

“They’re friends, Kyle.”

“I’m annoyed by how calm you are.”

Alex chuckled, closing his laptop and sliding it into his backpack. He and Michael were going very slow and working their way to being solid friends before they did anything too crazy. They had had a long in-depth talk about how they wanted to go about things after Rosa and Maria had pressured Michael into making them actually talk. After that, it was super easy for Alex to stop feeling like either of them were a threat. Not that he liked that he felt that way in the first place, but he will admit that he did.

“They’re both consenting adults on top of it. Even without her literally dying, she’s almost 20 and she’s been through a lot. I think they’re good for each other,” Alex decided. At first, their relationship was a little uncomfortable, but Alex was probably the first one to realize that they related on a level Michael was lacking. It was good for him.

“I don’t like it, she’s my sister and he’s… Guerin,” Kyle said, looking disgusted. Alex smiled, shaking his head.

“He’s not that bad.”

“I don’t trust your judgment when it comes to him,” Kyle said. Alex shook his head, but let him continue to ramble. “He called you his boyfriend by the way.”

“Yeah?” Alex asked, a small smile pulling at his lips. They hadn’t really given anything a title, but they had agreed not to see anyone else while they tried to work with each other. The fact that he was considering a boyfriend made him feel a bit better.

“See, this is why I don’t trust your judgment!”

When Alex got home that night, he found both Michael and Rosa on his couch which had become pretty common these days. Alex had missed Rosa a lot, she was the first person to make him feel like he could be himself and say fuck it to whatever other people thought. He found it funny that while she was being that person for him, she was also that person for Michael. They could’ve so very easily been together earlier if Rosa’s two worlds had collided for a moment.

“I heard Kyle tried to throw you out this morning,” Alex chuckled, easily falling onto the couch between them.

“Which is why we’re on your couch and not his,” Michael noted. Alex smiled, shaking his head as Rosa tucked herself into his side.

“You’re just in time, though, ‘cause Papi made popcorn and it’s spooky movie season,” Rosa stated. Alex relaxed deeper into the couch with a nod, hearing his front door lock itself with the assistance of Michael’s brain. When Alex looked to him, his eyes went from Alex’s shoulder and back to his eyes. Alex threw his arm around the back of the couch and Michael took it as a go-ahead.

Alex ended up smashed in between the two of them, feeling each of them jump when lame scares would come on the screen. It was oddly comforting and he decided that this could become his normal and he didn’t think he’d mind.

Actually, he believed he loved it.

[msftbts]

Personal stylist!Reader x OT7

(eventual) smut, fluff, slight angst & a bit of comedy here and there

Summary: You travel to Korea to start your new life as a personal stylist, expecting nothing more than to gain some job experience for the future, but seven sulky men make it difficult for you to stay in your lane and follow the rules. Will you stay faithful to your boss, or fall into the charms of another?

Notes: For those who were worried; i got a new laptop for my birthday, so I can continue writing again and let me tell y’all, the future chapters are _so_ full of drama, so enjoy the peace while it still lasts..

Warnings: mild cursing, alcohol usage

Taglist: @milk-mochi @ephemeral-mindset @the-wild-ego @kwitze-blog @in-overrmyhead @itsapparent @chocoflagcutii @leftflowerprunedonut @wildly-lost-lantern @knadiuniverse @treetops68 @ultrawheeze @xnxxdlesx @grumpy-doge

Don’t be shy to message/question/request me if you want to be added to the taglist to get notified whenever I post a new chapter! I update this au at least once a week. 

I’m also taking requests for other writing ideas & if you want to discuss or ask questions about the plot of this story then feel free to! I’d love to hear your opinions and theories. Not gonna lie, I’ve been low-key stalking my readers and all of y’all seem so cool, I’d love to become friends. 

(masterlist)

Chapter 4

As the loud music started playing, and the 50k people in the audience went crazy, you could sense the nervousness in the air. It was show time. You were in your room, but it felt like you were there in the crowd, as the bass caused the walls of your room to vibrate, and the cheering was shaking the ceiling. That, mixed with the adrenaline running in your veins, caused by the moment with Jimin, made you feel almost ecstatic, alive. Your first night had been a success so far. As the show was starting, you knew you had to spend most of the night trapped in your room, waiting for them to come there for outfit changes during the show, but Melissa pulled you out of your room to go explore behind the stage. She held your hand as you ran together through the hallways to right behind the stage to get a peek of the show. However, you were stopped in your tracks by a stage manager, who asked you where you were going. “We just wanted to take a look at the stage”, Melissa bribed and fluttered her innocent eyes to him. The manager was quiet for awhile, but accompanied you to the stairs leading to the stage. “You can watch from here, but make sure you do it when the lights are on the stage, so they can’t see you”, he introduced. You and Melissa looked at eachother excitedly, being surprised that the manager gave in so easily. You were hanging close to the stairs when the manager ran off somewhere. He came back with the members following him, looking all glammed up and ready for the stage, with microphone wires strapped up on them. The manager said something to his mic, and then lead the boys to the stairs. “They’re ready for you”, he said and the boys started walking up the stairs and onto the blacked out stage one by one. They didn’t seem like they noticed you next to the stairs, until Jimin walked past and winked at you. It was dark, so it was only visible if you looked into his eyes, but Melissa had also noticed it. “Did he just-”, Melissa said and turned to you. You were frozen in place. “Good luck out there!” Melissa screamed to the boys, jumping up and down out of excitement. When the lights turned on and the music started, you both crawled up the stairs and peeked behind the curtains to see a huge stage and a part of the insanely large crowd. The lights were flashing in your eyes, but yours were tightly glued on one person. It was so fascinating to see him switch his personality to a stage one, but you could tell he was in his element as he moved to the music and started singing. He transcended talent. You felt light-hearted, knowing he didn’t give up on you, even after your moment ended quite crummy. You still had plenty of time with him, it was only the first show of the many more to come.

The boys popped into the room throughout the show, dripping with sweat and you helped them change outfits quickly. You didn’t really have time for chit-chats. The boys who were once goofy and loud, were now dead serious and proficient, to the point where it was kind of intimidating. You didn’t even dare to open your mouth, unless it was you asking them to lift their arm so you can adjust their shirt. It was weird seeing them like this, but something about it screamed tempting. They were hot. You were sure everyone else thought so too, and the loud screams from the audience confirmed it. There was like a stigma between the boys and the whole world around them, leaving everyone breathless with the power of just their presence alone. Something about it made you want to fight the feeling even harder. You didn’t wanna be just another one to fall for their infatuation. Even if your work practically forced you to, you didn’t want to be one to kiss their asses. None of the boys expected you to, because they were still surprisingly humble, and felt almost awkward if somebody would do a favor for them. But the state they were in when working, made it easy to label them assholes. But they weren’t, no matter how hard you wanted them to, because it was easier to brush off any attraction towards them if they would have been. Even Jimin was oddly professional, his eyes looked hazy when you helped him get changed. It was like he didn’t even see you, because he was so caught up on his stage persona. His stare was empty, but you could tell there was a lot going on in his head, mind most likely rushing through the choreo. Once he was changed, he looked at himself in the mirror, brushed some of his hair up the way he often did, and rushed out of the room. You wanted to reach for his arm and pull him back, maybe to tell him good luck out there or ask him if he was alright, but you knew you couldn’t. You’re not allowed to. And you weren’t sure if he even wanted you to, he looked so cold that he would have probably just pulled his arm off you. You got your head back to the work, but couldn’t help the empty feeling in your gut.

The rest of the show went in the same patterns. The quick pace was physically challenging and it was impossible to not break a sweat. As the fireworks went off, meaning the show had come to an end, all of the exhausted boys ran into your room at once. You didn’t even have time to assist any of them with changing, when they had already stripped and rummaged through the boxes of their regular clothes. They were out of that room as soon as they were in, and you were left to pick up their sweaty, confetti covered performance outfits off the floor. You finished your work in peace, and gathered all of the dress bags. As you walked outside to bring all your stuff back to the van, you saw a glimpse of the boys getting into a taxi. You stood there watching as the car rushed through the crowds on it’s way to the airport, as a crew worker helped you pack the van.

You gathered all your personal stuff and left the venue with Melissa and other staff workers. Both yours and Melissa’s jaws dropped when you saw the private plane you’d be flying in. As you walked through the plane looking for a seat, you saw one free seat in front of Jimin. You stopped to consider sitting there, and just as he turned his head to look at you from underneath his oversized bucket hat, Melissa called you from the other side of the plane, gesturing you to sit at the seat next to her. You quickly continued walking, embarrassed that you almost ditched your friend to sit across Jimin, who clearly was disinterested. The plane ride went smoothly, you and Melissa sharing her headphones and listening to music, or leaning on each others shoulders while dozing off.

You were definitely not used to waking up in another country, when you finally landed in Tokyo, Japan. Tiredly, you walked through the airport with your worn out makeup from yesterday still on your face. You had completely forgotten about this part of your job, when the doors separating the arrivals opened, and you were faced with a huge crowd of paparazzis, fansites and fans, the flashing lights and screams making you feel dizzy. You covered your face as you were some of the first ones to walk in. You looked to your sides, trying to see where Melissa was to get some assistance from her, but noticed she was nowhere near you. You figured she was probably walking further behind, since she had stopped to go quickly get a coffee. You stood in place, waiting for her as all of the staff passed by you. The screaming intensified when the boys walked in. You noticed them being much more lively again, as they had probably prepared to greet the fans. You also noticed how Jimin’s smile was beaming, as he had taken off the hat covering his face. He was looking at you. A smile spread across your face, as you decided to walk with him, but when he walked towards to you, you felt his shoulder brushing yours as he just walked past you. You were left off with an ignored and defeated feeling as you watched him disappear into the crowd. You felt someone poking your cheek and you looked up to find Melissa with two cups of coffee. She handed the other one for you and you left the airport together.

You had a whole day free for yourself, since the next show would be tomorrow. You spent it mostly in your hotel room, but got out around dinner time, since you had promised to accompany Melissa for a fancy dinner downstairs, in the hotel’s restaurant. You decided to put a little bit more effort to the way you look, choosing a dress instead of your usual pants and shirt combo. For a stylist, you were oddly shy to wear any outstanding looks. Melissa had invited some of her other hair and makeup friends, and you sat at a big round table. You tried your best to socialize as much as you could, knowing this was a good chance for you to finally get to know other staff. And everybody seemed easy to get to know to. Normally this type of successful socializing would make you feel positively charged, but for some reason you felt drained, the recently happened events stuck in your mind. It was easy to cover it up by pretending to be listening to everyone around you, but in reality you were drifting off.

As the hours passed, most of your new friends had left to go back to their rooms to prepare for tomorrow’s new busy schedule, the only people left in the restaurant were you and Melissa, plus some other girl who went by the name Soomi. You were ready to go to bed, but Melissa pulled you to the side, bribing you to go for a few drinks with them into the bar. You only said yes, when she brought up how she would feel awkward to go there alone with Soomi. The bar was on the same level in the hotel as the restaurant and soon you were sat at the fancy wooden bar stools picking out your poisons for the night. Soomi was hesitant to buy all three of you some popular Korean alcohol, and honestly you were down for whatever, as long as it could numb your mind. After a few drinks, you had your head hanging loosely on your hands as Soomi and Melissa were giggling and having the time of their lives right next to you. You weren’t sure how much time had passed (or how many drinks you had downed) but it was surely enough to make you almost doze off. Melissa tapped your shoulder and told you they were going to use the bathroom, and as you lifted your head you saw how both of them looked down at you in pity, then looked at each other and tried to hold in their laughters. Normally you would have been offended, but this time you allowed it, you knew you were a mess. As they walked off, you turned back to rest your elbows and head on the counter. You felt someone sit on the stool next to you. “And what would it be for the gentleman?” The bartender asked the form next to you. “A manhattan please” there was a pause, “oh, and a water, please”. “Coming right up”, the bartender said as he turned around to mix the drink. You felt a light tap on your shoulder, and you lifted your head up slowly to see a glass of water being shoved to you. “Drink”, you turned to your side to see it coming from a familiar man sitting next to you. Your eyes were frozen on him, when it took your blurred out brain a while to figure out where you’ve seen this man before. “Had a rough night?” He continued. Fright washed over you, as you realized it was a man you were working for. Or more specifically, working with. You felt humiliated that he had to see you in a state like this, and the best option for you was to ignore him and leave the situation, or at least that’s what your drunken self thought. As you got up from the chair, you stumbled and almost fell, before you felt a pair of toned arms catching you. “I’m so sorry, you shouldn’t see me in a state like this”, you apologized as he helped you back onto your feet. “Don’t worry about it, you should just sit down for awhile and sip on the water I gave you”, he said and you sat down. “Thank you...What was your name again?” You said and realized how it came out much more slurred than you had meant to. He laughed. “It’s Taehyung, but you can call me Tae”. “Sorry, I must have ruined your image of me by being a drunk idiot. I’m definitely not as professional as you’d think”, you confessed, taking a sip of your drink. “It’s okay, I’m not professional either”, he smirked. “What are you even talking about? It’s like this beast took over all of you yesterday when the show started. You were all so focused on the show, I don’t think you were even human! So yes, you are professional”, you explained waving your hands in the air exaggeratedly. “A beast?” He laughed. “Yeah, it was scary. I was scared”, you said lowering your tone. “Well I don’t bite, unless you want me to”, he said his eyes narrowing. “Please, is that the best you can do? I thought the famous Kim Taehyung had more in him, than the overused phrase people in middle school used to say”, you rolled your eyes at him. He just scoffed and poured his drink down his throat all at once. “Is there a reason you’re sat here all alone almost blacked out drunk?”, he quizzed. “Hey, I’m not almost blacked out drunk!” You defended. “Not anymore, thanks to me”, he ran his hand through his hair. You wanted to call him an asshole for that, but you knew he was right, so you just swallowed your pride. “I was here with some friends, but I’m starting to think they left me”, you said stirring the glass in your hands. “Why would they leave you like that? I know I wouldn’t”, he responded. He was almost too smooth, making you want to push him away, but you were glad he was keeping you company. “I was annoying, I kept complaining about my miserable love life”, you scoffed. “Complain to me”, he said turning to you. “Oh you don’t wanna hear it, it’s stupid really. It’s so stupid that it’s not even love. I’ve just been so desperate that I turned nothing into something” you paused, “You know what? I think I just realized that now”, you said turning to him, maybe revealing too much already. “See, I’m already making you feel better”, he responded with a cocky smile. You smiled back. “I think I should head back to my room now”, you told him. “I’ll come with you, to make sure you get there without passing out on the way”, he smirked and grabbed your hand to pull you up from your chair. “Idiot”, you sighed.

As you finally approached your door and used the keycard to get in, he leaned on the wall and looked at you. “What? You’re not coming in, you know that right?” You teased him, but you were serious. “Too bad”, he smiled and scanned your body. He looked almost too happy to be turned down like that. But little did you know, he was just glad he got to spend even a fraction of his night with you. “Thank you, again..and sorry, again”, you said softly and stepped inside, closing the door between you two. Taehyung stood in place for a while smiling, before returning to his room.

Chapter 5 

[kurtty-drabbles]

Ocean au (first strike)

N/A: So, ok, time for Columbina to meet Nightcreeper and have her heist frustrated by him.

@djinmer4 @dannybagpipesarecalling @bamfoftheundead

Peni Parker was drinking a nice beverage, under the guidance of being a cute and normal teenage girl who is here to enjoy the holiday with her beloved aunt, when MJ enters in Peni´s room, which is adjacent to MJ thanks to a good lie and a nice acting, with a grin on her face.

"We´ll strike today?" Peni asked dubiously as MJ is stalling on this mission if you ask Peni and she´s not shy to share this opinion with her beloved aunt.

"Columbina will strike too. Remember, Peni, we don´t need to steal the ruby, our mission is to expose what this ruby is...and Killmonger and his associates, uhm, they don´t seem to be friends right now, paid us to show the truth...Peni, the ruby is a geo-gun" MJ states somberly and Peni is passive at this. The calm before storm.

"Why Wakanda has a geo-gun? They have Ororo on their sides...why make this?" Peni asked with her laptop open and a bright light hits her face and the voice of confirmation of the owner speaks and Peni begins to type. "So, what´s the real plan now?"

"Can you access the database of Wakanda?"

"Complex and will take a while, but, yes...I can"

______________________________________________________________________

Todd LeBeau is a man who loves to play poker so much that his friends even suggest him to change the name Gambit to Poker man, and while Todd certainly can´t deny how he adores this game, Todd won´t change the name Gambit for anything in this world.

Ryder called him and asks if he can play poker with his friends (friends in the plural is dubious considering Ryder is not a man to care for friendships that easily) and discreetly asks for a favour. "There´s a woman here, a cute one that even cooks meals for me ...and herself, but, she said she´s a professional poker gamer and...look, I just want your input here...you know I´m not a good player"

And well, how can Todd say no to the brother of the woman he loves? So, right now, Todd is in the familiar poker table with Dan Cassidy(aka Blue Devil, another German hero whose origins seems to be taken out of a movie) Kurt Ryder and the woman of the moment, Kitty Pryde.

(Todd narrow his eyes for a moment, trying to be discreet because he could swear that Kitty´s face is very familiar but he couldn´t place a finger why)

"Hi, I´m Kitty and I did cook for this guy ...because otherwise, he would have burned his house...again" Kitty look at him intensely and Ryder offers a charming smile as everyone else is too used at Kurt´s inability to cook.

"Then you just saved this building, thank you, hübsche Frau" Dan Cassidy states and Kitty nods speaking a bit of German too, as limited as it is, and then, she asks something that makes Ryder laughs.

"Uhm, who are you?" and Dan Cassidy is shocked.

"I´m Dan Cassidy. The actor. I did the movies like ''vengeance is mine" and ''my best friend'' ...I won an oscar" Dan Cassidy may share Ryder´s ego, sometimes, but, the man won an oscar recently and is a hot topic in the social media (thank god, for good reasons) so it baffles him that this woman has no idea who he is.

"Oh, don´t take personal, I had no idea who Ryder was either" she concludes and now Ryder is baffled and Todd is laughing at this scene. And then, the game begins.

Dan Cassidy is too cocky to stay on a long run and Ryder loses too. In the end, is between, Todd and Kitty and Todd has to admit, she´s really good. Even when Todd wins, is still proves how strong Kitty is as an opponent and Todd can say that yes, she knows how to play and plays very well.

Later, on the telephone. "Yes, she plays well, but, no, she´s not a professional player. When we talked about the tournaments and all that, I made up lies and she believed without hesitation...Ryder, whatever she works is not with poker, but, she really knows how to play"

_______________________________________________________________________

Columbina is now ready to take the ruby out and the crew is also ready. In fact, Felicia Hardy and Lorna seem to want this to be over with. Cosmo and Jupiter are out...doing what they know best and Kitty won´t ask for details here.

As she´s walking serendipity in the dark streets of New Gotham to the museum, thinking this will be one of those jobs, she heard a maniacal giggle coming from the absurdly high buildings and she knows, by experience, where this sounds are coming from and what´s the purpose, but, who is doing this?

She flies quickly, hovering above the ground and coming up to the buildings, to the gothic structures, and noticing the laughter is coming from behind her and she knows, by experience, whatever it is, will attack her from behind...big mistake.

A loud bamf hits her ears and Columbina phases right away and grabs the person by the neck, sadly for her, the person is really strong and also really lunatic and is smiling insanely at this. "Choke me, mommy" and Columbina does not let him go after that. No, how many times has she heard something like that?

"Who are you?" Columbina is not strong enough to continue to hold him by the neck and the green wacko is not having any problem and is now jumping, out of her hold, freely and laughing all the way.

"Me? I´m Nightcreeper. And you´re Columbina...whose heart are you planning to steal now?" Nightcreeper asked and even Columbina hovering in the air, is not enough to stop Nightcreeper. As the man can jump really high.

"You´re one of those heroes of JLX, ok, Nightcreeper, go home"

"Oh...is that an invitation, mein Frau" he purrs and her eyes widen as she reconize the voice and narrow her eyes for a moment, just to make sure, she reconize his face. Oh, it makes her smile and oh it gives the wrong message to Nightcreeper.

"No, bad Creepy, don´t be a horny dog"

And in the end, her mission was delayed as Nightcreeper makes himself her shadow and for all insanity the man brings, there´s no doubt he would arrest her if he caught red-handed with a ruby.

Felicia and Lorna are not pleased.

__________________________________________________________________________

Cosmo and Jupiter are watching the humans under their respective dimension, darkness and light meeting and becomes one point, and they have one question to make.

"So, about that movie cats...Do you spend time thinking about your names?" Cosmo asked smiling and Jupiter is really bemused.

"Shut up, Cosmo!"

[romantichopelessly]

When You’re Not Listening

Or, three times Logan or Nate protected one another behind the other’s back, and one time they stopped being idiots and noticed.

This has been in my drafts since like September, so I FINALLY decided to finish it, and while I’m not so sold on the plot idea anymore, I wasn’t going to throw away all this work. Also, I am legally obligated to tag @insanelycoolish in any and all Late fics, because no one else loves them as much as me. Nowwwwwww without further ado, the fic I’ve been working on for five months!

———

Roman groaned, looking up from his notepad in exasperation. Really, it was probably his fault for trying to brainstorm in the common areas. He should have known better.

Logan and Nate were fighting. Again.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t such a stick in the mud, I wouldn’t have to go over your head to get Thomas to relax a bit!”

“He will have time for relaxation once he has finished his work for the day!”

Roman sighed, sitting his notepad down. There was no way that anything would be getting done today. When Logan and Nate started going at it like this, it could take hours for the name calling to stop. He used to think that he and Logan were bad, but ever since Nate had become a bigger part of Thomas’s life...

“Oh, yeah, when his work is finished. Because his work is everything right? You just know everything.” Nate’s voice was getting lower, a clear sign that his irritation was bordering on real anger.

Roman really wished they would just stop already.

“I know more than you!” Logan’s voice was shrill, and Roman flinched upon hearing it. That was Logan’s upset voice. If it was shining through, he was really getting emotional. Roman himself had only managed to evoke it one or two times. Nate seemed to do so regularly.

“Of course you do. You always know best, don’t you, Logic? You can’t even consider the idea that maybe one of us knows something that you don’t! Like how to relax, or work as a team!”

Roman’s eyes widened and he looked up, his eyes pulled to the kitchen, where the two were standing about a foot apart. Both of their faces were red and chests heaving and Roman bit his lip when he saw Logan’s eyes dart away for a moment.

Nate had been right, but he probably shouldn’t have said it.

The room was silent for a few moments. Roman didn’t even dare to move. Logan and Nate stared at one another, completely at a standstill.

After a few awkward, silent seconds, Logan’s back straightened and he pushed past Nate towards the refrigerator. Roman and Nate watched in silence as he swung the door open unnecessarily harshly and rooted around for a moment before pulling out a full jar of Crofter’s. Slamming the door shut, Logan jerked open a nearby drawer and grabbed a long handled spoon.

“Relax all you want now, Procrastination, I’m done for the day.” Logan spat, glaring at the side in leather before sinking out without another word, his jar of Crofter’s (not even Logan’s Berry, if that showed how bad it was) cradled to his chest.

Instantly, the tension deflated from Nate’s shoulders, and Roman could practically see the regret coming off him in waves.

Glancing back down at his notepad before setting it aside and standing up, Roman cleared his throat and stepped closer to the kitchen.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Logan gets upset at anyone who challenges his sacred routine.” Roman kept his voice light, a bit wary at the sight of the dark frown on Nate’s face.

Roman moved around and leaned against the bar, smiling slightly at Nate. He couldn’t see the other’s eyes behind his sunglasses, so he pressed on. “You were right, though. Specs is a stick in the mud.”

Nate’s shoulders tensed again and he whirled around, looking right at Roman. Or right through him, it was exceedingly hard to tell through those dark sunglasses. “No he isn’t. Logan does so much for all of us, and not one of us even bothers to thank him for it. Logan is an unwavering constant, and without him we’d all be insane. He’s not boring. He cares a lot more than he shows, and he’s way more than just Logic. He’s Thomas’s curiosity and intelligence, and without him, your job would be much harder than it is right now.”

Roman blinked in shock. “Wh- But you just said-“

Even though he couldn’t see Nate’s eyes clearly, Roman could tell that he was rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I know what I said. Doesn’t mean you can say it. Or that I should.”

Roman tilted his head in confusion. “You’re awfully protective for someone who yells at Logan nearly every conversation you have together.”

Nate huffed, but didn’t respond. Roman watched, silently baffled as Nate slowly but surely shuffled out of the room.

Roman would never understand those two. He just wished they’d stop doing this in common areas.

———

Patton didn’t think he’d ever understand why Logan and Nate fought so much.

Sure, they kind of worked against once another, but so did Patton and Logan a lot of the time, and Logan never yelled at him like he did at Nate.

Like he was right now.

It had started as a comment about the shirt that Nate was wearing. A heather gray t-shirt with the words “Due Friday? More Like Do Friday.” Of course, Logan had found the silly saying, well, silly. But a scoff and an offhanded comment had quickly grown to a full on argument.

Patton had tried to intervene. He always did, but with these two, it never seemed to work. No amount of soft words or jokes were able to pull Nate and Logan out of an argument. Only one of them storming away or sinking out could end a Logan and Nate argument.

Which was exactly what happened, Nate disappearing with one last snide remark, leaving Logan standing in front of the couch staring at the cushion as if it had offended him personally.

Carefully, Patton approached his friend, his voice soft and soothing. “I know Nate bothers you sometimes, Logan, and that’s okay! The two of you are like- like opposite ends of a magnet! He’s just- just your natural antagonist-“

Logan spoke up quickly, his voice clear and controlled, pretty much the opposite of his annoyed voice from moments ago. “Nathan is far from an antagonist, Patton. He embodies much more than Thomas’s Procrastination. He is also relaxation, balance, and on many occasions, self care.”

Patton blinked in surprise. He had been trying to console Logan, not upset him even further. He quickly backtracked, choosing his words more carefully. “I know that, I just- You two are so different, and I thought you would-“

Logan pursed his lips, obviously resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “I know that we are different. That is not necessarily a bad thing.”

Patton blinked, watching Logan inquisitively. He didn’t know where this sudden protective streak for Nate had come from, but he wasn’t going to challenge it. “Okay, buddy...”

Logan was already turning on his heel, heading in the direction of his room. He had gotten only a few paces away when he turned back, enough that Patton could see his face, but not enough to make direct eye contact.

“You were wrong, Patton.”

Patton tilted his head, but tried to lighten the situation. He was good at that. “Well why don’t you enlighten me then, teach?”

“Nate and I are not like opposite ends of a magnet. Opposites attract.” With that, Logan turned back in the direction of his room and left without another word.

Huh.

———

“Logan is absolutely the best of the light sides, is he not?”

Nate grimaced, tugging the overlarge blanket up to his chin as he blatantly ignored Deceit.

“Procrastination. It is obvious you cannot hear me.”

Nate rolled his eyes, turning up the volume on his laptop, which was playing some bloopers of The Office.

Deceit moved around the couch, his footsteps silent and his movements fluid. Nate sort of hated Deceit’s gracefulness.

More directly, he hated how Deceit was speaking about Loga- Logic.

“Come along, Procrastination, you know that I’m right.” Nate audibly scoffed, and Deceit raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Logic is quite the bore, is he not? I mean, just today he maliciously pushed aside your plans for Thomas’s Sunday for his own agenda.”

Deceit could see the tension growing in Nate’s shoulders. The slight downturned twitch of his lips. He was far from relaxed. It was quite hilarious to watch, really. Getting Nate out of a state of complete lethargy when he was watching The Office bloopers was truly a feat. Deceit was really quite proud of himself.

“Face it, Nate.” Deceit bent over the form on the couch, a dark smile slowly growing on his face. “Logan is just holding Thomas back.”

Suddenly, Nate sat straight up, whipping his sunglasses off of his face and meeting Deceit’s eyes directly in a harsh glare. “He is not.”

Deceit leaned back, a bit surprised by the sudden venom in Nate’s voice. Those three words were spoken with more passion than the lying side had ever heard from the procrastinator in the entirety of their existence.

Apparently Nate wasn’t done yet, however, because he wasted no time in shoving the blanket off of himself and standing, straightening his back in contrast to his usual slouched posture, meeting Deceit’s eyes directly. “You know nothing about him, you lying snake.” Deceit’s eyes widened as a finger was jabbed at his chest, making him stumble backwards. “Logan is worth two of you! He made the decision that was best for Thomas, and if that doesn’t involve me, then that’s my fault, not his. I trust that he knows what’s best for Thomas and his career, and you are not going to just slither in and try to change my mind on that. Thomas can take a break on another day.”

Completely flabbergasted, Deceit could do nothing more than stare in stunned silence as Nate glared at him for a few more moments. After nearly thirty seconds, Nate seemed to be satisfied with himself and Deceits reaction and pulled his hand back, turning and flopping right back down onto the couch, unceremoniously starting his videos up again.

After standing there frozen for a few more moments, Deceit huffed, straightened his cape and sunk out without another sound.

———

They had been at it for hours. Even Logan was beginning to get tired of the editing process.

He hadn’t really been on board with such a huge project in the first place, knowing Thomas’s schedule, tendency to make promises that he couldn’t keep, and overall health, but Roman had overpowered him in the brainstorming stage, and now Logan was left suffering the consequences.

Rubbing his temples, as if it would stave off the growing tension headache, Logan finally straightened himself from where he had been leaning over Thomas’s shoulder as they both stared at his small computer screen.

Sighing defeatedly, Logan spoke. “Thomas, I do believe that the best course of action at this time would be to get some r-“

Of course, Logan didn’t even get to the end of his sentence before Nate had appeared on the other end of the couch. He was wearing what appeared to be an old pair of pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt that was at least two sizes too large, and held a half eaten bag of potato chips in one hand.

“I got it from here, teach, you can go.”

As loathe as he was to admit it, Logan was relieved by Nate’s appearance. He never thought that he would be so happy to see the embodiment of Procrastination in his life.

However, Thomas did not seem to share the sentiment.

Barely looking up from his screen, Thomas waved his hand in Nate’s direction. “No. Logan, we have to keep going. I’m almost done, and I promised the viewers that we’d have another video out by tomorrow.”

Logan frowned. It was almost unheard of for Thomas to turn down a night of relaxation for work, even with how much he adored his job. Logan knew that he should be proud. It wasn’t often that Thomas sided with him over one of the other sides at all. However, instead of a sense of satisfaction, Thomas’s words brought only dread.

For once, Logan just wanted to be done with work. Was that too much to ask?

Shooting a glance towards Nate, Logan was surprised to find the other side’s eyes already on him. They watched one another for a moment before Nate broke the connection, turning back to Thomas as he dug one hand into his bag of chips.

“C’mon, Tommy, you don’t mean that. You know you wanna put that work aside and kick back with a good podcast. Maybe drink something. Eat some peanut butter cups.”

Oh, that sounded heavenly. Logan watched with bated breath, hoping that Thomas would just take the offer.

Instead, Thomas scowled, focusing even harder on his computer screen. “No. I don’t have time, Nate. Logan and I are working on something really important right now. Right, Lo?”

Logan paused, weighing his options. He could do what was expected of him and agree with Thomas, banishing Nate back to his room. Or. He could tell Thomas that it was time for a break and go enjoy a podcast of his own.

It was an easy decision, really. “Thomas, I believe that Nate is correct. It is time for a well deserved break.”

Logan didn’t even have to turn his head to see the bright grin that instantly took over Nate’s face.

“Seriously?” Logan started as Thomas turned towards him, an incredulous expression on his face. “I’m almost done, Logan! You’re really siding with a dark side on this?”

Everything fell silent. Nate’s hand froze where it had been rustling in the noisy chip bag, his eyes wide in surprise.

If Logan had been just a bit less perceptive, he would have missed the flicker of hurt that flashed through the crime fighter’s eyes.

That did it.

Straightening his back and adjusting his tie, Logan took a single step forward, reached over his host, and snapped Thomas’s laptop shut.

Thomas stared at him in shock. “Wh-“

“No.” Logan’s voice was even, if a bit cold. He was tired. He was overworked. He had a headache. And now he was irritated. “No more work tonight. You’re done, Thomas. You need rest, and you need it now. You’re burning out, and I will not stand for it.”

Thomas opened his mouth to retort, but Logan held up his hand to stop him.

“No excuses. Nate is offering you a chance for rest and you will take it. Because he is doing what is best for you, just as any of the rest of us would. He is not a dark side. That is just a- a silly name that Roman came up with to describe the less prominent sides of yourself. It is a misnomer and a frankly abhorrent one at that. Nathan here is part of your self care. He watches out for you, for all of us, much like Virgil or Patton or Roman or me. He is your balance. He is there when you’ve reached your limits, and he backs off when you need to focus. He has never done anything to harm you, and I will not have you treating him as less of a part of you just because Roman filled your mind with negative connotations.”

The end of Logan’s speech was met with resounding silence. Thomas stared up at his logical side, eyes wide. From the opposite end of the couch, Nate’s eyes were just as wide, if not wider, as he stared at Logan in complete and utter awe.

Clearing his throat, Logan lifted the laptop from Thomas’s lap and deposited it gently on the table in front of him. He was just considering sinking out when Thomas finally spoke.

“You’re right. I... I’m sorry Nate, I just got caught up, and I-“

“Don’t sweat it, T.” Nate’s voice was comepletely normal, despite his obvious surprise at the whole situation. “Let’s just get you some food and we can start up an episode of Parks and Rec., okay?”

Logan watched as Thomas slowly smiled at the idea, nodding happily. He stood silently as their host stood and left for the kitchen, probably on the search for some horrible junk food.

Thomas was barely out of the room before Nate cleared his throat. “Logan?”

“Yes, Nate?” Logan steeled himself, preparing for what was to come. He wasn’t exactly sure what he expected. Teasing, most likely.

“Thank you.”

Logan’s eyes snapped open to meet Nate’s, which were filled with sincerity.

Swallowing down the unknown feeling—feeling?!—that look gave him, Logan nodded once. “No problem.”

Flashing a small, genuine smile, Nate patted the cushion beside him. “Wanna watch some P&R?”

Logan hesitated, glancing back towards the kitchen, where Thomas was rooting around in the refrigerator, before turning back to that welcoming smile and those sincere, deep brown eyes.

It wasn’t a hard decision.

“Of course.”

[cinemamablog]

My So-Called Adult Life through Film

Some people find comfort in family and friends, others in less healthy habits like overindulging in food or shopping or alcohol. Then there’s me and my kindred cinephiles, who find nothing more reliable and cozy than to hide under a pile of blankets, prepare a bowl of popcorn, compile a selection of movies, and press “play.” This habit of finding solace in cinema served me well the past eight years of adulthood. I can even chart the changes in my life by the movies that felt like a warm jacket in the emotional winters of my 20s.

In my college years, I found solace in two stylish movies: the Vogue documentary The September Issue (2009) and the Wes Anderson family dramedy The Royal Tenenbaums (2001).

I loved the style and drama of the behind-the-scenes Vogue doc. At the time, my first semester as a college freshman, I still had dreams of acting on the big screen, or working as a fashion photographer as my “back-up” plan. Not only did I use the movie to unwind from my theatre classes and distract myself from a terrible heartsickness, I thought I was studying for my future career. I looked up to Anna Wintour, Grace Coddington, and Andre Leon Talley, like mentors who lived on my laptop screen and in the pages of magazines at the grocery store. For a little over an hour, I shared in their posh struggles. I “tsk”ed at Mario Testino’s flightiness and Sienna Miller’s stubbornness. “Why didn’t you take more photos for the cover, Mario? Just cut your hair, Sienna! It’s the September issue, people!” I’d mentally accost the persons seemingly sabotaging the project. I sided with Coddington when she butted heads with her longtime workplace champion and challenger, Anna Wintour. But above all, I loved lingering on set with Coddington, eating pastries with models in Versailles and researching photography books from the roaring ‘20s. While the internet has repeatedly “cancelled” Grace Coddington, my 18 year-old self basked in her whimsical attitude towards fashion, beauty, and storytelling. I hope some of that whimsy rubbed off on me.

Later in college, during my History major years, I spent all day in class (or skipping class) and all evening either working at Blockbuster or rehearsing for a small show. My fragile mental state wreaked as much havoc on my self-esteem during this time as it did during my early college years, but at least this time I could point to my accomplishments and plead my case: “Look! I’m productive!”

In the strange (but not always unpleasant) smelling aisles of my Blockbuster, I shelved movies and, for recommendation purposes, took note of which of my favorite movies were back in stock. I even lent my personal copy of Anderson’s Rushmore to an unpresuming hipster couple, who returned the movie a couple weeks later with a sweet note and a five dollar bill. As one of the perks of working for near minimum wage, I could rent ten free rentals a week, as well as rent new releases over the weekend before their official release. With this wealth of discs at my fingertips, I discovered a lot of new favorites over my year and a half under Blockbuster’s employ, but repeatedly returned to Anderson’s The Royal Tenenbaums.

Everyone relates to dysfunctional family dynamics, unless they’re lying. But the familial aspects of the Tenenbaums’ story didn’t stick with me the way the characters’ malaise did. Adopted sister Margot soaking in a bathtub for days, her husband simply stating his wish for death, Richie Tenenbaum taking care to shave his beard before slitting his wrists. The family’s simple melancholy, expressed without melodramatics but rather matter-of-fact statements and actions, struck me. The bluntness of the script, communicating an overall sadness in a straightforward fashion, felt foreign but welcome to my depressed self. I considered myself a powder keg in my adolescence, always the one to spout off my cruel thoughts at the expense of the feelings of those close to me. The way the Tenenbaums expressed themselves, clearly but calmly (save for maybe Ben Stiller’s Chas Tenenbaum), while acknowledging big and uncomfortable feelings, seemed new and exciting. A different, maybe better, way to express myself without exploding from the inside out every other day. While it would take a bit longer before I found the key to bringing a sense of stability to my inner life (it’s called managing expectations and setting boundaries), I found comfort in the Tenenbaums’ home.

A couple years later, after living in LA for a few months, I enjoyed renting movies at South Pasadena’s local video store, Videotheque. Located just a couple exits from either of my jobs and always open late (when the traffic conveniently dies down), I spent my evenings after stressful closing shifts roaming the store’s shelves of DVDs. I tried to mix things up: pick one movie from the horror section, one from a director’s stack of movies, and one from the silent or classic sections. (Videotheque’s organization system spoke to my movie-loving heart, though sometimes I noticed errors, like the silent film The Great Gabbo misleadingly sitting in the Greta Garbo stack.) It was in Gillian Armstrong’s filmography that I discovered a movie that brought me a great deal of comfort in lonely Los Angeles: Starstruck (1982). The pink and glittery spine of the case caught my eye. (As anyone who’s seen me drive around in my little pink car can attest: I adore the color.)

I returned to our Glendale apartment and holed up in our bedroom with my rental selections, including Blue Underground’s aesthetically pleasing release of Starstruck. Jo Kennedy, an authentic punk singer, stars as Jackie in Gillian Armstrong’s New Wave musical about a young woman aspiring to stardom with the help of her clingy cousin/manager, Angus. Ms. Kennedy brings an insane amount of style and showmanship to the role’s musical numbers, whether in a club and wearing a kangaroo suit or on the counters of her family’s diner. The absurdity and overwhelming joy of Armstrong’s follow-up to My Brilliant Career served as a welcome antidote to my low morale, the result of feeling defeated by my part-time work and lack of creative output in one of the world’s most artful (but also corporate) cities. I embraced Kennedy’s bright hair and gutsy interpretations of even brighter pop songs. Starstruck nearly gave me a cavity after indulging on such a sugary confection of music, attitude, and style. It gave me a cinematic epiphany: movies could be colorful, youthful, and a treat for my senses, the same senses that adore the color pink, ‘80s synthesizers, and over-the-top fashions.

Once I returned to Iowa from my all too brief time in California, I felt like I was back at square one. I knew we could make enough money to keep a roof over our heads, which was a blessing, but also, it felt like I reached the end of the road at the ripe old age of 24. I felt wasted, like all the things I had to give rotted away before I even had a chance to share them. During this bleak time of reflection, I returned to a movie that I initially disliked upon my first viewing: Noah Baumbach’s Mistress America (2015).

When I first saw Mistress America in theatres, I walked out of the theatre afterwards to terrible news for my acting career: I had auditioned for a dream role and instead earned a part written for a girl half my age, with less than ten lines. I wonder now how that particular strike to my ego affected my initial impression of the slapstick Noah Baumbach/Greta Gerwig collaboration. Thank goodness I gave the movie a second chance and re-watched it on some streaming service.

Now, as a 20-something, I could relate to the story of Mistress America: a young college freshman, Lola Kirke’s Tracy Fishko, struggles to find her place and gravitates towards an older, seemingly wiser woman, Greta Gerwig’s Brooke Cardinas. Upon my first viewing, I hadn’t really related to either of the main characters. I existed in the awkward space between graduating college and finding my footing, neither in Tracy’s world nor Brooke’s. Upon my second viewing, my life had changed significantly and I had begun a chapter of my life in which I recognized that artistic stagnancy meant emotional death. I saw so much of myself in the character of Brooke Cardinas: dabbling in every hobby that caught my interest and confidently proclaiming my opinions on the facts of life when, on the inside, I felt confident about absolutely nothing. I began to frantically grab at straws to feel like I brought something worthwhile to the world: a business plan for a horror shop, a draft of a local theatre newsletter, a local film newsletter, several drafts of scripts, notes upon notes upon notes on potential theatre projects.

The quick banter of Mistress America, full of zingy one-liners, initially turned me off to the movie. I wrote the script off as “trying too hard,” when later in my 20s, I relished the fantastical intelligence of the dialogue. Yes, no one actually talks like that, but god, I wish they did. The manic pace of Baumbach and Gerwig’s characters matched the pace of the marathon in my brain, where I ran a personal race to create something worthwhile.

Now I wonder, in the next few years, what movies I will look back at and think, “Wow, how did that movie find me when I needed it the most?”

[bubblyani]

Bold moves, No assumptions (Tuck Hanson x Reader)

Tuck Hanson One Shot

Genre: Fluff

Author’s Note: Ever since I watched “This Means War” I was quite disappointed with the ending aka Tuck not being chosen. Didn't make sense cause clearly he was the better choice. Enraged with this and his forced ending with his ex, I wrote this for anyone who shares the same frustration.Tuck Hanson, you deserved better. And here is my tribute to you <3.

P.S: Didn’t Tom Hardy looked supa fine as Tuck?

You played safe in most situations in your life. And never dared to do something out of your comfort zone.  

But you always convinced yourself to be stronger and make some bold moves; you were just waiting for the right time to do so.

Working as a part of HR at the Agency might not be as exciting or glamorous, but you did enjoy it. You get to help people with internal matters and you took great pride in it. You’ve made friends with people within and outside of your department and some of them were simply a joy to know.

Agent Tuck Hanson was definitely the best one.

As time went by, you developed quite a soft spot for this charming gentleman of a Brit. He never failed to greet you at work and make your presence known. He would always try out your baked goods with much enthusiasm and you couldn’t help but respect his work ethic. His partner and best friend FDR, was nice too, but you could tell right away what kind of a guy he was. And you didn't really buy into that. Tuck might not be as smooth of a talker as FDR, but you appreciated his sincerity and romantic nature as a person.

When Tuck told you about this girl he found on this dating site, you were happy for him. But at the same time, you felt these feelings, which could only be described as “sour”. You kept ignoring this ‘sourness’ when it all went so well with Tuck and this girl “Lauren”.

But this became such a complicated screw up, when FDR accidentally ended up liking the SAME woman. At first, this immature fight over the same girl seemed so hilarious in your eyes. But when they started to use their power with background checks on her for interests and “sabotaging” each other’s attempts, you realized this was going WAY out of line.

“I don’t know guys, this seems a bit too much, and someone’s gonna get huuurt” you voiced your opinion with a tone of concern and a disapproving look.

And you could tell that Tuck always got embarrassed, as if he realized the insanity of their actions. But he quickly changed heart considering the competitive nature between the two friends.

You even remembered the day when the Heinrich assignment was completed. That was when Lauren finally made the choice. You found Tuck talking to Lauren when the medics arrived, and you remembered how he tried so hard to not let the rejection get to him. Even though you stood far away, you heart felt heavy and you felt bad in his place. You even questioned yourself as to why would you be THIS emotional for someone else’s loss.

That’s when you fully knew, how much you cared for Tuck Hanson.

All of this, flashed through your mind as you indulged on some nachos, looking out to the tables ahead, watching FDR and Lauren cozy up together, laughing, kissing and enjoying each other’s company at the Annual State Fair on a Thursday night.

Since the Lauren incident, Tuck enjoyed your company more often and you didn't mind it all. And when Tuck said he would be going to the fair with a date, you were more than happy to be there to rescue him if anything went sideways.

You just didn't really expect to see THEM there, at the same place, in the same time, together, rubbing it all in Tuck’s face, if he ever did see them.

Suddenly you felt frustrated and angry, but you were also bold. A part of you was surprised when you got up from your seat to walk over to the ‘happy couple’.

 “Lauren? Lauren Scott?”

“Oh hey (Y/N)! Didn't expect to see YOU here.” FDR got up happily to show off his new girlfriend. “Lauren...this is (Y/N), she works in HR at the uh…Agency”

“OMG…Hey! Nice to meet you (Y/N)!”

You and Lauren shook hands. You couldn't help but be awed by Lauren, with her golden hair and beautiful smile; she definitely exuded rays of sunshine.

No wonder Tuck fell for her, you thought.

“Yeah, you too. Um…sorry to barge in like this, but uh…I just…I just-” you took a deep breath. “I’m really happy for you guys, really. But I just gotta ask, woman to woman.  You really picked FDR over Tuck? REALLY? REALLY?” your voice grew louder by the word. And you swore your expression might have changed into something not so pleasant.

Oh no…here I go.

“REALLY? I mean…WHY?” you continued.

“Uh…(Y/N) I’m sitting right here-“ FDR interrupted.

“FDR PLEASE! Just PLEASE!” you motioned him to shut up.

“I get it, FDR is a softie underneath all that smooth, ladies man bullshit. But what about the good guys? What about people like Tuck? He is the perfect gentleman. And from what happened between you guys, all seemed to go so well right? Sorry for sounding so nosy, I know this seems over line. But seriously Lauren, I just don't understand. Yes, FDR is a lovely person and he has had a rough time growing up so yes he needs the right girl. But so does Tuck! You met HIM first, you liked HIM first. And In the end you decided to go with THIS GUY? SERIOUSLY? I just...I don't get it. There was barely anything wrong with that man, he was really in love with you, you know. You really made a HUGE MISTAKE!”

Lauren looked like she just got slapped. And FDR was pissed off big time, but trying to repress his anger. He quickly got up rushing towards you.

“Lauren I’m SO sorry, (Y/N) can be a LITTLE crazy sometimes” FDR began,

“(Y/N) maybe you should go home”

“I’m FINE! Don’t worry I’m leaving I’m leaving!” you shook his hand away from you.

“By the way, It was nice to meet you Lauren” your expression changed, you couldn't help but smile sincerely at Lauren. Cause in truth, Lauren seemed like a great gal.

“You look really pretty” you turned to walk away. For a second, you felt this huge burden leave your shoulders. 

“(Y/N)!”

You turned to find Tuck running up to you “Where are you off to luv?” 

“I’m going home, I’m not feeling so good” you replied with a tight smile.

He eyed you sternly, “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“Trust me, I’m fine. Sorry Tuck” your voice grew softer, patting him on the shoulder.

FDR approached Tuck, who watched you walk away with a confused expression.

“Is (Y/N) okay?” Tuck asked his friend. “Well she certainly didn't seem right in head to me” FDR replied angrily, shaking his head.

“I really don't follow” Tuck got even more confused.

“Tuck, you’re not gonna BELIEVE what just happened”

----------

As much as you didn't want to face FDR the next day at work, you also wanted to apologize for being a jerk in front of Lauren. You came to work early as usual. As you were heading to get a pot of coffee, you stopped by Tuck’s table to check up on him.

“Good Morning Mr.Hanson…or should I say Handsome?? Hah!” you greeted him teasingly. He smiled warmly while typing some emails. “ ‘Morning Luv! You feeling better today?” he closed his laptop to look at you.

“Oh it was just a headache, a good night’s rest did the trick” you gave him thumbs up, automatically looking over to FDR’s table “What happened to FDR?”

“Oh he took the day off today so wont be coming in” Tuck replied, turning side to side on his chair.

“I see…Oh! Dude…how did the date go last night?”

Tuck opened his mouth but stopped himself to think of a better reply. Chuckling, he went “Oh…you know, didn't work out that well” he shrugged his shoulders. You didn't believe him. “What? That's insane…I saw the lucky lady and she looked hawt!” you folded your hands leaning on FDR’s table. “Yeah I guess, but we didn't really click that well in the end” he replied nonchalantly. You still didn't believe him.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that Tuck. Maybe it didn't work out for a reason. So, have hope!” you cheered him and while walking away to get that coffee.

“I will ” Tuck whispered, watching you leave, and hoping you were right.

--------

Few days later, you heard some colleagues talking about this dangerous mission Tuck was assigned to, and how he will be going out to the field. You rushed to look for Tuck, finding him leaving his table to get ready.

“Please…please be careful, and promise me you’ll be okay” you felt so corny, saying all these things to him. Tuck, touched by your worried reaction, reached out to hold your hand.

“Don't worry luv! I’ll be fine, I promise” he sounded sure. You nodded in acknowledgment, trying not to be distracted by the warmth of his touch.

------

Hours later, Tuck returned to the Agency after a successful mission, but also with a few bruises. He insisted he didn't need a cleanup. But with your persuasion, a medic came by to fix him up. When the medic left, you came in to the room and sat on a chair next to the door, facing a sitting Mr. Hanson on a chair next to the bed, looking exhausted.

“ You really didn't have to call on medic for this, luv” Tuck pointed at the several cuts and scars on his face which didn't seem so severe.

“Doesn't matter the severity, you needed cleaning up.” You crossed your legs “I heard you did a great job today, I’m REALLY proud of you, you know” you meant every word you said, smiling.

Tuck smiled back, but quickly looked down. Pursing his lips, he looked up and spoke shyly,

“FDR told me what happened at the fair.”

You felt the whole world crashing down on you as if the worse nightmare has happened. You wanted to get away from this room.

“I’m so sorry about th-“ you quickly got up

“No please! Don’t go “ Tuck said hurriedly, motioning you to stay. “Please stay” his voice got softer. You slowly sat down, afraid of what might come out of his mouth next.

“To be honest, it felt quite nice to hear that someone was speaking on behalf of me...”he continued, his blue eyes on you, begging for you to look back at him.

“But I just got to ask...why? Why would you do that (Y/N)?”

You summed the courage to look up at him, praying you won’t get your heart broken by rejection.

“You know, I’m not the one to pick a fight Tuck, I really am not” you began,

“…But that day, when I saw them together, I just couldn’t take it. Why must FDR only deserved to be happy and not you? Why must that happen when you did nothing but be a great guy. The spying thing was CRAZY, I WILL say that. But even from the beginning, Even WITHOUT the spying, you were doing SO well and you STILL didn’t get the girl. And it JUST PISSED ME OFF” the more you spoke the braver you sounded. You sat on the edge of your seat.

“And it pissed me off a hell lot cause I...I...” with eyes closed, you took a deep breath, clenching your fists.

“I have liked you for a really long time Tuck”

You maintained eye contact as you finished. 

There it was, bold move number two.

You couldn’t read Tuck’s expression, but it did look as if he wasn’t expecting that. 

“(Y/N)!-“ he let out a chuckle. “What?” You were dying of curiosity. He moved around in his seat as if to calm oneself. Was he nervous?

“You might have not known this, but when I first met you in the Agency, I thought you were quite lovely” 

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Actually, I thought you were very beautiful, and seeing you around always cheered me up” you blinked fast; you didn’t know how to react.

Am I dreaming? 

“I even went so far to assume you already had a boyfriend-“

“You what?” That escaped your lips faster than you could think. Loudly too. 

Tuck smiled, he found your reaction adorable. “ Come on (Y/N)! Was I wrong to assume that? Why would someone like you want someone like me?” 

“You CAN’T say that! That’s my line ” you protested, to which Tuck burst out laughing. You couldn’t help but chuckle. You adored the way Tuck laughed. You loved seeing him happy.

Fuck! I really like him. 

“Anyways, after a while the Lauren thing happened, and then with Katie again and, nothing seemed to fit right with me” his tone changed, and it was sad.

You just had enough of this. You just couldn’t take it. 

Standing up, you slowly walked over to him, not breaking eye contact. Tuck looked surprised as you suddenly sat on his lap. You longed for courage as your hands found his face, fingers touching his skin so softly. 

Savor this moment.

Slowly moving forward, you kissed him. 

Savor. 

You kissed him like it was your first and last time. 

This. 

You kissed him, trying to pour all your feelings into one kiss cause you were afraid this will be your only chance.

Moment. 

5 seconds, it lasted 5 seconds.

You removed your lips from his, giving him a soft smile, stroking his cheek with your thumbs looking at his fazed expression. You sighed deeply. You got up.

Frankly you really didn’t want to let this one go.

To your surprise, neither did Tuck. 

He grabbed your hand, his grip hard as steel, so strong you fell back to his lap. You looked at him with shock. 

“Tuck, what are y-“ 

“No more assuming,” he breathed, pulling you to a kiss.

Kissing Tuck was lovely. Tuck kissing you was magical. But when this was fused together, it was just fireworks. It certainly didn't seem so unfamiliar; at least not by the way Tuck was touching you. He held you up so you could straddle him. Lips were in a conversation of its own.

Where the fuck have you been?  

You felt butterflies in your stomach as you felt his hands run up and down your back, finally settling down to your waist, pulling you even closer to him. The kisses turned deeper and more passionate. The distance between the two of you got smaller, to the point of the bodies grinding against one another.

Tuck broke off the kiss reluctantly, and you suddenly returned to earth.

“(Y/N)…uh...I…” he panted, gently holding your cheek “ as much as I would like to continue THIS, I really want to do this RIGHT, you know, take you out on a date first” he spoke earnestly, looking in to your eyes.

You giggled, “Hehehe…yeah true. I’d like that too…” You felt so ecstatic you hugged him super tightly,

“Finally, I have you ALL to myself” you whispered excitedly to his ear.

“You can’t say THAT!  That’s MY line” Tuck responded teasingly, hugging you back.

Tuck WAS the better guy, and he made YOU the better girl.

With the help of a few bold moves you will never regret.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more