#also soz to everyone I don’t respond to I try not to go on here much cause it can b bad for my mental health

[xxbleedingoutxx]

idk why my ex complains about school so much i mean he was pretty good at cheating before...

[ohthemis]

Tears HC for a vacation on a cruise ship?

—   sweet ‘n summer

characters: all

a/n: i’m going to be honest, i didn’t feel this prompt at first, but once it hit me, it hit. also i wrote it in fic format since it’s easier, soz <3

“miss, you’re not going to actually leave me here right?” marius asks, pouting from the seat behind you. currently, artem is on the lounge chair next to you trying to take a good nap. “marius, if you don’t stop being loud, we’re going to drop you in the middle of the sea,” luke chides before pushing marius into the pool. “heyyyy, i paid good money for this trip!” says marius as he pokes his head above the pool water, right before pulling luke into the pool as his childlike revenge.

vyn walks out of the inside bar with a fruit shake in his hand. “marius, we paid too, remember?” from beside you, artem shuffles awake. “what time is it?” you turn to your watch, “1 PM. if you’re sleepy you could go to your room first. a bed’s probably more comfortable then a lounge chair.” artem shakes his head, “no thanks, i’m not sleepy ‘nymore.”

artem then shakes his head to wriggle the remaining drowsiness away. and from where he’s currently wrestling with luke in the pool, he takes notice of this. “artem, you’re finally up! convince mc and vyn to get in the pool with us.” artem shoots him a deadpan look. “even in the middle of the ocean you’re still so loud.”

“why’s everyone picking on me? it’s summer! let loose!” and in a show of perfect timing, luke jumps out of the water and tackes marius. vyn raises an eyebrow at the two. “you two will end up drowning yourselves if you keep that going.” you sigh getting up, finally considering marius’ words. “i’m gonna take a dip.” artem perks at this and follows suit.

“heeeey!! miss, help me get luke off of me-” marius is cut off by luke pulling him by his feet and yelling out a “victory!” marius resurfaces and coughs out water. “you’re gonna kill me, luke!” you jump into the pool, and with his quick reflexes, marius catches you. which of course, prompts luke to jump him, yet again. of course after marius lets you down.

artem sits by the pool side, leaning to the side of the pool. “you aren’t going to swim, artem?” 

“i will, i’m just getting used to the temperature first.”

vyn then walks in, dropping a pool float in the water. he sits there, the drink still in his hand. vyn, the epitome of elegance and unbothered-ness. and then there’s marius. “chicken fight!” and before marius could get to lifting you, you’re suddenly lifted. you hastily grab the shoulders of whoever’s gotten ahold of you. lo and behold, there’s artem, blush tinting his ears. “are you fine being my partner?”

“you know i am!”

marius whines, but is cut off by luke grabbing his legs and carrying him. marius stumbles to regain balance on luke’s shoulders for a bit. as soon as marius gets a grip, vyn takes it upon himself to start the countdown “3...2...1..go!” you and marius struggle a bit, artem flawlessly maneuvering himself to help you maintain balance. luke on the other hand, doesn’t have to move as much. frankly, marius easily overpowers you.

unless...you play dirty.

 you swiftly let go, and marius stumbles forward, due to the lack of your force cancelling out his. his face is now inches from yours and not missing a beat, you reach into his neck and waist. and you start tickling him. just like that, marius falls into a fit of laughter, wriggling too much for luke to keep up. and then they topple over.

“and we have our winners.” vyn claps nonchalantly, the drink in his hand now empty. 

unfortunately, victory is short-lived, as marius charges for artem’s back, and now the both of you are falling. again, marius rushes to catch you and succeeds. “how’s that, miss? i’m so cool, right? right?” right before you could respond, luke jumps him. for the third time. with a declarative “stop getting all touchy, marius!”

vyn then floats over to you, still on his pool float, sunglasses on his face. honestly, if he wasn’t so handsome, he would’ve looked a bit ridiculous, waddling on a pool float, wearing pineapple shades. its a nice break from the usual demeanor he’s got on, though, that’s for sure. and he leans down to whisper in your ear, no doubt trying to evade the ears of the other 3 guys.

“those 3 had you all to them, i’d say it’s my turn to hang out with you, no?” and if a few minutes later, marius, luke, and artem catch you and vyn sporting matching pineapple shades and fruit drinks, well, it’s their fault they weren’t paying enough attention to you and vyn’s whereabouts, isn’t it?

[muniimyg]

— 05 | not me 🖊

series masterlist | no tag list

a/n: i missed writing casual!jk + oc moments tbh :’)  lmk what you guys think of them atm !!!

It didn’t take much time before your phone began to blow up with messages from the boys. Jimin sent paragraphs apologizing for his choice of words and implications, while his partner in crime sent you a simple “soz.” The others were spamming the group chat just to get you to check it. Their objective was for you to seenzone them. At least that way, they’d know that they annoyed you enough to respond to them in a sense. Everyone but Jungkook spoke up.

Instead, Jungkook showed up.

He had left to go to the gym and insisted on getting his laptop charger himself. He needed to do his laundry anyway, he had class in the late afternoon anyway, he didn’t pack enough protein powder anyway. Changing the plans privately with the guys, he hastily kissed your cheeks goodbye and asked you to miss him. To which, you rolled your eyes and pushed him out the door. 

You aren’t sure why, but here you are again. Watching him step in your newly furnished apartment with a familiar overnight bag in all of his glory. He closes the door behind him and pouts at the sight of you. 

“Honey, I’m home,” he jokes, completely unaware of how it made your heart flutter. “Also, you still have a phone right? You weren’t texting the group chat and they’re all worried. Asked me to pick you up and bring you over there so Jimin and Taehyung could get on their knees beg for forgiveness. Why?”

He’s clueless. 

Cute, but clueless. 

“I’m not mad.” Your reply is too instant. Your arms are crossed and voice drips with annoyance. 

“You’re upset.”

“And if I am?” 

He sets his bag down with a chuckle. Jungkook walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist. A little surprised, you take a step back and he instantly takes a step forward to close whatever existing space was in-between you two. You’re backed up against the bookshelf you two built together, and he’s pulling your body closer to his. He dips his head low to level with you and fuck. You swear you can see stars in his eyes. Something about the way his actions are so swift and shameless makes you want to scream in frustration and in excitement. His hair is a little damp, probably from his post workout shower and he smells good. God, does he smell good. His scent fills your heart with comfort, the same way his touch does. He’s looking at you, really looking at you, and it feels exactly how you fear it would. 

“I don’t know what Jimin or Taehyung said, but I know they’re sorry. It’s not an excuse, but yeah. We’re dumb fuckboys, right? That’s what you call us,” he pauses and presses his lips against the crook of your neck. A sloppy peck and a few giggles later, he continues. You’re trying your best to focus, but the feeling of his lips against your skin begins to drive you insane. “But me? I have brains. I told them you probably just want space. I know how you are.”

He smiles proudly, and you find yourself pinching his cheeks with a mocking gasp.  

“Space, huh?” you bite, “why’d you pack an overnight bag, bunny? A little clingy, are we?”

Bunny. 

God, could Jungkook literally bust a nut from just the way you call him that. Nothing was as sweet as you, not even honey. 

“Space from them. Not me,” he kisses your neck, a little behind your ear, and then the corner of your lips. “Never from me, okay?”

You pull away from him and give him a look. One that he knows too well and has come to become quite fond of. Eyebrows furrowed, head tilted, with your perfectly shaped lips in a slight pout, and eyes filled with so much confusion. You looked dumbfounded, but he adores it. He always does. 

“What? You didn’t miss me?” Jungkook steps away, acting offended as he jumps into his own conclusions. He turns away for dramatic effect and quickly peaks over his shoulder to see if you’re paying attention. Of course you’re paying attention. You laugh, playfully hit his shoulder and he moves into your embrace rather quickly. 

“Yeah,” you admit, as you lift your hand and fix the strands of hair that fell and covered his eyes. “I missed you.”

Then Jungkook smiles, completely satisfied with the way you let him in. He likes being this close to you and knowing that it’s just for him. Jungkook feels secure in these kinds of moments shared between you two. Even if it was just for a moment, you were just for him. 

That night, you promise him that you’ll make up with the guys first thing tomorrow. He gladly raises his pinky at the sound of your promise and begins to tell you about his day. As you fall asleep cuddled up to Jungkook on your couch, Infinity War playing in the background, you can’t help but feel a little confident in who you were investing yourself in.

Fuckboy or not, a good part of you can’t help but wait for the time you could rub it to Jimin and Taehyung’s face that Jungkook isn’t like the rest of them. At least, not with you. 

Yet, another part of you also couldn’t help but feel anxious and terrified of looking stupid. Jimin and Taehyung know Jungkook best, what if they’re right? And if they are, what are you to Jungkook? It’s a difficult position to be stuck in, but Jungkook is truly gifted in making you feel the way you do. Like the world belongs to you and you to him. Like it’s always been him and this is finally the slow reveal of the plot twist — that if Jungkook is tripping over his own feet; it’s definitely not because he is trying to run away from you. 

copyright © 2021, muniimyg on tumblr.

[1025cherrystreet]

order for me, please?

y/n is too anxious to order for herself at a restaurant, so harry does it for her.

disclaimer: did not proofread this, nor do i really like how i ended it. very much rushed, very much lost the plot i feel lmao. any feedback is appreciated!!! 

warnings: talks about anxiety quite a lot, other than that just fluff. kinda short soz <3

Harry rubs soft circles into your side while you're cuddled into him on the couch. The light coming in from the window casts a yellow glow into the room, little rainbow beams decorate random spots in your living room from the glass.

You've been a bit anxious today. The worst part of it is that you have no clue as to why you've been so anxious. Nothing particularly stressful has occurred since you woke up, but your heart hasn't stopped racing, your breathing has been quite shaky, and your palms are clammy. Some days are just harder than others, you know this, but it doesn't dismiss the fact that it's still difficult to even get through the day sometimes.

Since the moment you woke up in Harry's warm clutch this morning, you felt off. That uncomfortable feeling in your tummy and the constricting nails that seem lodged in your throat were a not-so-warm welcome when you opened your eyes.

Having anxiety and knowing how hard it is for you, you know how hard it can be for the people around you as well. You felt guilty. You felt guilty because today was one of Harry's days off from work and he doesn't get many of them, always so busy. You didn't want to ruin what was supposed to be a good, relaxing, fun day.

But, when Harry wished you a good morning love, and you had opened your mouth to speak with glossy eyes, only to have the words get caught in your throat, he knew today wasn't a good one.

However, because Harry is such an amazing person and boyfriend, he knows how to go about handling your anxiety. He knows you. He knows that you just need a cuddle and a slow day with tea and a good meal. He knows when you start to get really worked up, you listen to Landslide by Fleetwood Mac because it reminds you of a sweet childhood memory. He knows you don't want to do much talking, but rather more watching TV. He knows you like to distract yourself on your bad days...and he knows how to do so.

So, after spending all morning and into the afternoon having tea and breakfast and taking your meds (along with a short cry), you're now cuddling on the couch mindlessly watching a movie. It's quiet in the house, the only sound coming from the television (and maybe your heart beating if Harry got close enough), but Harry swears you could be able to hear his thoughts from a mile away.

He worries about you sometimes. As does everyone who loves someone. He's never loved someone as much as he loves you and it scares him sometimes. He's not scared of falling out of love or deciding you guys aren't the best for each other, no. He's scared of not being enough for you. He knows you tell him that he's the love of your life and that he will always be enough for you, but a little part of him is scared that he might not be able to take care of you. Now, he's not saying in any way, shape, or form that he's not capable of taking care of you, because he can! He's just scared he might mess up and make your anxiety worse. He hates seeing you so out of it.

You're always the sunlight in every room, always smiling and so loving. You care so deeply for everyone around you, he admires it. He admires you. He loves you, so he hates that your mind can be mean to you at times.

See, his troubles with anxiety are far different from yours. Gratefully, his anxiety is more rational (still troubling, just more rational!) ... which is the complete opposite to yours. Your disorder is so irrational and crazy that, more often than not, you get so frustrated with yourself. Your brain makes up problems to be there that aren't there. You worry about nothing and everything all at once, feeling like you never get a break from the mental toll it has on you.

So with that, Harry hates seeing you so anxious. He knows you're so vulnerable and fragile in this state that he doesn't want to make anything worse for you, he wishes every day that he could just take all the worry and bad thoughts from your head and put them on himself instead, as long as it meant that you'd be your happy self again.

But, he knows that's not possible. He also knows that's it's okay to not be okay all the time, so he packs his wishes back into his brain and cuddles you closer. Hoping you can feel his love reverberate off every surface of this house to you.

Oddly enough, you almost feel as if you can. In your simultaneously busy yet silent mind, you can make out his affection in every circle he draws onto your skin with his fingertips, in every warm cup of tea he makes, and every sickly sweet kiss he presses onto your lips, forehead, and cheek. You know he loves you and you hope with everything that he knows you love him just as much, if not more.

With that thought running through your head, you turn to place a kiss to his chest, lightly tracing the butterfly (moth?) tattoo through his shirt. A content hum sounds from his lips and he squeezes you tighter before kissing the top of your head.

"I love you," He whispers, as if not to disturb the comfortable silence created in this space.

"I love you more," You whisper back, the tea earlier melting the nails in your throat just a little.

***

"Does Carrburritos sound good, lovie?" Harry asks, waiting on the edge of y'all's bed for you to finish getting ready.

Carrburritos is your favorite restaurant ever. Of course, you know that's why Harry chose it and the thought of him doing something as simple as that melts your heart at how sweet and thoughtful he is.

"Yeah, thank you, bubs." You respond softly, still in the fragile state you were in earlier, albeit definitely feeling better. You make your way to the edge of the bed where Harry is, slotting your body between his legs and bringing your hands up to play with the little curls on his neck.

"Alright, love. If you're ready to go, we can start to head over?" He asks, rubbing his big hands up and down along your sides.

You nod, leaning into kiss him. It's short, but your lips melt against his and no matter how many times you've kissed him, every single one still feels as magical as the first time.

The two of you get to the restaurant in 15 minutes time, settling at a table close to the window, in more of a quiet area. You feel better than you have all day, but the loud noises and the people in here are making your heart rate spike just a tad.

You and Harry talk softly about random topics, nothing about work or anything too heavy because you don't think you're able to handle that right now. You giggle at the jokes Harry will slip in ever so often and his face lights up at the sound, loving that he can make you feel comfortable after having such a hard day.

When the waitress comes by to get your drink orders, your leg starts bouncing a mile a minute under the table. You rehearse the five words just a sweet tea, please, over and over in your head for when she gets to you. Somehow, you manage to squeak out the order, avoiding eye contact as a nervous habit, but now that you realize you're doing it, the fear of coming across as rude now terrorized your mind. But, before you could do anything about it, the waitress walks away.

"You okay, baby?" Harry can sense your nerves, practically seeing them coming off of you. He reaches his hand across the table to hold yours, rubbing his thumb along your hand.

You just nod, trying to calm yourself. You're being so silly, you think to yourself. What? You're really about to cry because you forgot you have to talk to the waitress to order your food? It's a small encounter, you don't understand why your head makes it such a difficult task. You start to get frustrated with yourself, almost bringing tears to your eyes.

"Hey, tell me what you need, darling?" Harry coos, ducking his head to get in your line of sight since you've been stuck staring at the table top for the past few minutes.

You clear your throat in hopes to push down the tears and diminish the scratching feeling in your throat, although, it didn't do much.

"C-can you..." You huff, now frustrated that you can't even speak, "can you please order for me?" You glance at him, but not holding your gaze long before looking out the window at passing cars. You feel so stupid asking him to order for you. For fucks sake, you're not a child. And you can't tell if it's worse or better that you know he's going to have no problem ordering for you (or doing anything for you, for that matter). He'd do anything for you in a heartbeat.

A soft, loving smile pulls on his lips before he speaks.

"Of course, my sweet girl. It's no problem at all, you want what you normally get?" He asks and you offer a gentle nod.

If he's being honest, he actually likes you depending on him like this sometimes. Not to say that you need him to do everything for you, because you're more than capable, he would like to add! But, knowing that you're comfortable and trust him enough to be so open with him and ask him to do certain things for you makes him feel so...valuable? Maybe that's not the right word he'd like to use, but he just loves that he can do something for you to make your life easier. Your joy brings him joy.

When the waitress comes back, Harry orders for the both of you. Your heart could explode with the amount of adoration you have for the man sitting across from you. He just... gets it. He gets you.

So, with full bellies and calmed nerves, the two of you make your way back home and get settled in y'all's bed to cuddle for the rest of the night. Sprinkled thank you's and sweet kisses are shared while the two of you share warmth under the dozens of blankets adorning the bed.

"I'm sorry I wasted your day off, H." You whisper out into the air.

Pressing a peck to your shoulder, Harry tugs you to turn so you're facing him. He shakes his head, "Y/N, you didn't waste my day. Always perfect with you." His big hands squeezing lovingly at your waist as if he's trying to transfer his love for you to you.

"Look at me," He says when he catches your eyes cast down at his tattooed chest. "You will never, ever, be a burden, lovie. I know y'feel like you're botherin' me, or everyone, by jus'existing, but you've got it all wrong. Baby, I hate seeing you so anxious, and I know you can't control it, but tha's not gonna stop me from doin' everythin' I can to make you comfortable...and loved."

Your face breaks out in, probably, the biggest grin you've had all day at his assurance.

"I always feel comfortable and loved with you, H."

[ynsrg]

PRETENDING

CHAPTER 1

**Disclaimer: Hey, it’s an ‘actor meets actor and gets horny for them’ fic! I’m sorry for writing this but I’m down bad. Bo is just a character, I apologise profusely if this ever gets read by the wrong people, etc. etc. I also have absolutely no idea what I’m talking about – this fic is stupid, makes very little sense, and has a very thin plot from which I have dangled smut, like a garden trellis. I have another, much longer, fic in the works (25,000 words and counting) but I very much doubt it’ll see the light of day because my OC is American in it, and I’m legitimately terrible at writing American dialogue, so I wrote this about a scouse bird instead (it’s what I know) and did my best to make it work. This fic will include no family members because that’s really weird. Sorry in advance!**

Chapter 2: https://ynsrg.tumblr.com/post/660912110046429184/pretending

Chapter 3: https://ynsrg.tumblr.com/post/660912269314670593/pretending

Chapter 4: https://ynsrg.tumblr.com/post/660912544504004608/pretending

She misses Liverpool. It sounds ridiculous, and as the Californian sun beams down, making everyone and everything it touches look somehow glamorous, she feels ridiculous. This – here – is everything she’s ever wanted, everything she dreamed of, everything she’s worked for; but she misses her city, her home town, her Liverpool. L.A. is too sprawling, too lacking in soul, and takes itself entirely too seriously. She doesn’t really want to be here so much as a second longer than she absolutely has to.

Maybe acting isn’t the career for you, Catherine.

She sighs heavily and swirls the straw around in her drink. She doesn’t even particularly like iced coffee, the entire concept seems… off to her, but here she is with her iced coffee all the same.

“Am I boring you?” The sardonic voice from across the table interrupts her moping, and she responds with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, mate. I’m a little…” she grimaces, “… homesick.”

“Ah, yes. Because there is, somehow, an entire city full of people with accents like yours. It is a real place,” he smirks, “somehow.”

Catherine rolls her eyes and flicks her straw at him, pleased to note that she’s got some of the coffee on his white tee. “Gobshite.”

He snorts. “And just what the hell is a ‘gobshite’?”

“Look in the mirror and you’ll have your answer,” she replies flatly, leaning back and tilting her chin up in defiance.

He raises an eyebrow at her. “I’m assuming I should be offended?”

“Probably,” Catherine shrugs. “But you seem quite hard to offend.”

“I’m actually very sensitive, Cath.”

“Uh-huh.”

Silence falls between them again, and Catherine shifts in her seat, a little uncomfortably. He notices.

“So, tomorrow.” He runs a hand through his dirty blonde hair, which is something she’s noticed he does quite a bit when he’s anxious or nervous about something. Given the context of their current situation, the fact that he’s doing it now makes her anxious and nervous.

“Yes, Bo?” She responds wearily, and he eyes her like she’s a wounded, cornered animal that could lash out at any moment.

“Uh…” he taps his fingers on the table, searching for his words, which is quite unlike him. “So, I know we’re like, friends.”

“We are?” Catherine raises an eyebrow, working hard to keep a straight face.

Is he blushing?

“I mean, I think so?” He frowns at her, a little furrow between his brows, and her face cracks into a smile. “Ah, you’re fucking with me.”

“I am,” she says proudly, and he rolls his eyes.

“Anyway. So, friends means tomorrow might be, ah… weird,” he pinches the bridge of his nose and she fidgets in her seat again.

“This isn’t my first rodeo, Bo,” she says cautiously, trying to ignore the knot in her stomach.

“I know, I know,” he replies quickly, picking up on her defensive tone. “Just, um… if anything feels… if you’re uncomfortable, just say the word, okay?”

Okay.

He’s avoiding Catherine’s eyes, fiddling with the bracelet on his wrist. “That’s sweet,” the words leave her mouth seemingly without any input from her brain and shit, she didn’t mean to say that out loud.

He huffs out a laugh. “Jesus, I can’t believe I’ve met someone more sarcastic than me.”

Thank fuck for that.

“Aye, I’m a proper cunt,” she nods, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she squints at him across the table.

“A fucking horror,” he agrees, trying and failing miserably to imitate her accent.

Catherine recoils. “What the fuck was that, Bo?!”

“Um…” he pulls a face, “scouse?”

She shakes her head slowly. “Never, ever do that again. Promise me.”

He laughs again, and there’s a bit of her that’s proud that she makes that happen as often as she does. Guy’s one of the biggest comedians on the planet and she makes him laugh on a regular basis. Bit mad, that.

“Catherine Mary McHale, I promise I will never, ever do that again.” He extends his hand across the table. Large. What a ridiculously large man, who remembers your middle name, for some reason.

She narrows her eyes at him. “I don’t believe you, but okay.”

She extends her much, much smaller hand and meets him in a firm handshake. The knot in her stomach returns immediately, but when he releases her hand, it doesn’t make her feel any better.

“Alright then,” he shifts his chair back and picks up his phone. “I’d better get back.”

Catherine nods a little dumbly, head feeling a bit fuzzy.

He rises to his feet – large, huge, why is this fella a giant – and cocks his head to one side, peering down at her with a weird expression written across his features.

“What is it?” Catherine frowns up at him. “Have I got shite on my face?”

Bo laughs again, loudly and his eyes are crinkled at the corners and he has a dimple on his right side, she noticed that within about 30 seconds of meeting him for the first time. “No, Cath, you haven’t got ‘shite’ on your face.”

Air quotes, seriously?

She keeps looking up at him, eyebrows raised, foot tapping impatiently. “So, why are you staring?”

He slips his phone into his pocket and folds his arms across his chest. “I’m not staring.”

“You literally are. Here, you look like this.” She widens her eyes as much as physically possible and pulls a creepy face which she’s sure looks absolutely disgusting.

“You are a very attractive woman, Catherine,” he drawls, straight-faced, and he’s clearly and obviously being sarcastic, so she has absolutely no idea why her face is heating up.

“Fuck you, Bo,” she smiles up at him sweetly and he raises an eyebrow.

Weird.

“I’ll see you later?”

“Well, yes, pal. We’re acting in a movie together.”

He smirks. “Right.”

She nods. “Right.”

“Bye.”

“Ta-ra.”

Catherine watches his retreating form until he’s out of sight, and then she releases a shaky breath that she didn’t realise she’d been holding.

[mageicalwishes]

A Smashing Summer - Chapter 3

Read on AO3: here

Read the previous chapter (On Tumblr): here

Summary: “I’m egging your house for a dare, but you’re parent is a cop and now they’re yelling at me, so I told them you were my ex and you wronged me, and now you’re coming outside, so please just go along with this, I really don’t want to go to jail” AU When Simon Snow agreed to egg some posho’s house, he never thought he’d find himself here - The only thing standing between himself and a criminal charge, the word of a handsome stranger.

Chapter: 3/?

Words: 1,694

Simon

I slide down against the sofa, pulling my phone out of my pocket, with a smile.

ME (19:57): Hey, hey, hey, Bazaroo!

ME (19:57): I’m super glad you liked the scones! They’re my absolute faveee

ME (19:57): I’ll bring enough to share next time :)

ME (19:58): How are you today?

To my delight, my phone buzzes with a response, almost immediately.

BP (19:58): If you ever call me that again, I will block your number. I’m not even joking.

BP (19:58): And, I’m pretty good, thanks. Yourself?

ME (19:59): Aw :( Imma just have to keep trying different names till I find one you like, then :p

ME (19:59): I’m great! Had a pretty good day today :)

ME (20:00): Sorry I didn’t message earlier btw - It’s been a busy day! Me and the lads went into town and played some footie, and then I had to do some dumb history essay (Idk who told my history teacher she could set homework in the holidays, but I wanna fight them!)

ME (20:00): I fucking despise the Tudors. I mean, why the fuck would I care about socio-economic policies from like a million years ago! Grrrr!

BP (20:01): No worries, Snow. I understand.

BP (20:01): That is unfortunate - But, you got lucky with the Tudors, to be honest. I’d rather that, than the bloody Industrial Revolution. That is mind-numbingly dull!

BP (20:02): But, I hate to break it to you - If you think the Tudor dynasty was a million years ago, then maybe you should reconsider your subject choice. You’ll definitely fail the A-level, if that’s your level of understanding.

ME (20:03): Aha trueee. Sucks to be you :p

ME (20:03): And stfu!! I know it wasn’t actually a million years ago, you tosser! I was BEING dramatic - You should've realised, you know ALL about that, Mr. Roll-your-eyes-every-two-fucking-seconds.

BP (20:04): I’m unconvinced.

Stupidly, I scoff aloud - Drawing Nathan’s attention away from the television and over to me. He stands, trudging over, and plopping down onto the sofa besides me.

I groan, frustrated.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing. Nothing … Just wondering who you’re texting,” he drawls, the mocking amusement clear in his tone. “Got yourself a new girlfriend, or something?”

“No! I’m just talking to Penny,” I defend, my voice rising suspiciously. Fuck. I’m such a crap liar.

“You know, I know you’re lying, right?”

“Obviously,” I drone. “Just … Butt out of it, though, yeah? Please.”

“Alright, alright” he laughs, throwing his hands up in a mock surrender. “I’ll leave you be. But, if you wanna keep your little buddy a secret - I’d advise against laughing at their messages in the bloody common room, you divvy.”

“Noted,” I sigh, turning towards the door. “Don’t tell Josh though, yeah?”

“Sure, Simon. If that’s what you want, your secret is safe with me.”

“Cheers, mate.” I smile. “You’re the best.”

“I know, I know. I’m amazing. Just go and text them, you mug!”

I do (Obviously). Quickly jogging upstairs, and locking myself in the bathroom - Where I’m safely hidden from prying eyes. Laying myself down in the bathtub, I hammer out a reply, sending it off Baz immediately.

ME (20:13): Whatever, dickhead!!

ME (20:13): Also soz I didn’t answer. Nathan was being nosy lol.

ME (20:13): Anyway … You been up to much today?

Baz

Just as I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I won’t be receiving a response, my phone buzzes loudly against my bedside table - My chest swelling pathetically, as I reach out and grab it.

Typing out a response, I find myself smiling - Unbridled joy melting away my impassive neutrality.

ME (20:14): No worries, Snow. It’s not as though I’m just sitting here, desperately awaiting your every response. I do have a life outside of you, you know.

That's not exactly true ... But, he doesn’t need to know that.

ME (20:14): And, no, not really. I’ve mostly just been reading. I did try to teach Mordelia how to play chess, though - Which was fairly disastrous.

SS (20:15): Lol! Sounds good :)

SS (20:15): Who is Mordelia, though?

SS (20:15): Is that your girlfriend?

I stare at my phone, blankly - Trying to formulate a response.

ME (20:17): Seriously?

Barely a second after I've send it, my phone starts buzzing furiously - Message after message, pouring in.

SS (20:17): What?

SS (20:17): That’s a perfectly valid question!

SS (20:17): You haven’t mentioned anyone called Mordelia, I swear to God!

SS (20:18): I’d remember, for sure.

SS (20:18): It’s not exactly a common name

ME (20:19): I know that, Snow. I was referring to the girlfriend question!

ME (20:19): I thought that we had already established that, a girlfriend isn’t exactly on the cards for me - Given the whole fake ex-boyfriend situation.

SS (20:20): Bi people exist, you moron!

SS (20:20): I’m Bi. Lol.

SS (20:20): I didn’t wanna assume you were only into guys … Or that you were even really into them at all.

SS (20:21): You totally could’ve been Bi!

SS (20:21): Or straight! The whole ex-boyfriend thing was a lie, remember? - You could’ve just been a straight bro, pretending to be into dudes, to help me out.

SS (20:22): It aint a dumb question, really. So … Don’t be annoying!!

Oh. Okay.

Newly nervous, I begin typing out my response - Ensuring that I sound perfectly unphased.  

ME (20:22): Christ, Snow! You seriously have to stop sending so many texts in a row. My phone is going to have a meltdown, if you keep it up.

Hesitating slightly, I continue.

ME (20:23): But, you’re right. Sorry. I didn’t mean to make it to sound as though Gay and Straight were the only options. I could’ve been Bi … Or Straight, I suppose. But, to clarify - I’m definitely not. I’m gay.

ME (20:24): I guess that - Where I’ve known since I was eleven, and I stopped trying to hide it a while ago now, I sort of forget that it isn’t immediately apparent to everybody else. Everyone in my Family knows. Everyone at College, too. So, I just, sort of, forget that I can still be perceived as anything other than what I actually am.

SS (20:26): Hush you! I like multiple texts!! It’s easier to keep my track of my thoughts, like that. If I try to put it all in one text, I forget what I wanna say.

SS (20:26): And dw about it, it’s chill! I know you didn’t mean it like that, I was just teasing :)

SS (20:27): I get what you mean tho. Coming out was so scary … But now I sort of forget that not everybody knows. I just like to assume they do lol. It’s stopped being such a big thing, now that I can just, like, relax about it.

Unsure of how to respond, I type out a simple …

ME (20:28): Yeah.

SS (20:28): Yeah :)

SS (20:28): Seriously, tho. Who is Mordelia? You never actually answered me lol.

ME (20:29): She’s my little sister.

SS (20:30): Oh lol! That’s crazy! I didn’t think you had a sibling.

SS (20:30): You don’t give off doting big brother vibes.

SS (20:31): More like … Spoiled only child, ones. LOL! :D

SS (20:31): Is she your only sibling?

Unable to help myself, I chuckle, quietly.  

ME (20:32): Very funny, Snow. But I never said I was doting! I may be their brother, but I still have standards.

ME (20:33): And, no (Unfortunately). I have three more - Two sisters, and a brother. They’re my step-siblings technically, though. And they’re quite a bit younger than me. So, I was an only child for quite a long time.

SS (20:33): Cool!

SS (20:34): Do they all have stupidly posh names, too?

SS (20:34): And, do you like having siblings?

SS (20:35): I always wanted a brother, when I was little!

ME (20:36): Yes. Unfortunately, my family are incapable of picking normal names.

ME (20:37): And, yes. Most of the time, anyway. It’s nice to always have somebody to talk to - Or to play with (Although, I think I would’ve appreciated that more, if the age-gap wasn’t quite so wide). But, they do drive me up the wall, sometimes! Mordelia has taken to drawing all over my revision notes, recently - I’m sure you can imagine how I felt about that!

SS (20:40): Aw, yeah. That sounds nice!

SS (20:40): LMAO! THAT’S HILARIOUS! I feel bad for her tho … I’d hate to have your wrath turned on me! You'd probs make me cry lol.

ME (20:41): Yes, well. Despite what you think - My wrath was, evidently, not strong enough! She’s still bloody doing it!

SS (20:43): Aha lol! I like her! She sounds as stubborn as you.

————————————————————————————

A soft rap on the door, disturbs me from my conversation with Snow.

“Baz, Honey? Are you in there?” Daphne calls, her voice sweet and cautious.

“Yeah? You can open the door. It’s fine - I’m decent.”

“Okay,” she hums, pushing the door open slightly, and peeping her head in. “I just wanted to let you know that I'm about to start plating up dinner.”

“Alright,” I smile. “Thank you. I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Perfect. See you then,” she sings, turning and leaving the room.

Hastily, I rattle out a text to Snow.

ME (21:14): As much as I am enjoying this, I have to go now, Snow. Sorry.

SS (21:14): Aw :( How come?

ME (21:15): I’ve got to go and eat dinner.

SS (21:15): At nine ?!?

ME (21:16): Yes, Snow - At nine. I must compliment you on your time-telling abilities!  

ME (21:16): My Father insists that we eat dinner together as a family, but he was working late tonight … So, nine P.M steak it is.

SS (21:17): Aw fuck! You have steak! I’m well jel :(((

SS (21:17): But, okay, no worries! Hope you enjoy your dinner.

SS (21:18): TTYL :D

ME (21:18):  Will do! Talk to you later. Goodbye for now :)

[msjr0119]

Hold On

Part 12a- New York/ The Ball

Nobody got injured at the Homecoming ball, they all get separated into different safe houses- for safety.

Riley and Drake had confirmed that they had feelings for each other, however Drake believed Riley should be with Liam. Heartbroken, she moves back to New York. Only keeping in touch with Hana, Maxwell and Olivia.

Riley meets lawyer, Nate Cooper and begins a relationship with him. In Cordonia, Drake begins to court Kiara.

Nine months after Riley had left Cordonia- there is a reunion, but not the reunion the friends had hoped for.

*Characters belong to Pixelberry*

If you are under 18 please do not read this series. If you do, you are consenting that you are over the age.

Series warnings: Suicide, domestic abuse, swearing, stabbing, smut 🍋. If any of these triggers affect you do not read!

This is part one of New York/ The Ball... the next part will include some flashbacks.

Tags- @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @choices97 @hopefulmoonobject

******

The morning after the confession, Riley was due to be discharged. All night her thoughts lingered on Liam. She was frustrated with Leo, forcing answers out of her - but was also relieved that she told him the truth. It was like a breath of fresh air. She just needed to get today out of the way and then she could be reunited with her friends. Not knowing if it would be for short term or long term.

“Morning Blossom. You ready to go?”

“Yeah I’ve just been given my discharge letters, are you ready to be shown the sights of our wonderful city?”

“Hell yeah! Bertrand went out shopping and got you some clothes. I insisted on going, but as head of house Beaumont he felt it was his responsibility- as usual. Here... he’s just making a few phone calls. Then we can meet Beth and Leo.”

****

Leo and Beth was getting ready to meet Riley and the Beaumont’s at Central Park. It was a beautiful sunny morning, the sun highlighted all the scenery. Leo had been thinking about Riley’s confession. Since he had moved to New York, he had learnt that Riley was the most stubborn person on this planet. He knew he shouldn’t interfere but after seeing his brother broken ever since the coronation- he knew he had to do something. Liam confided in his older brother all the way through the engagement tour. Leo felt a ton of guilt- as it was due to him abdicating the throne. They had an hour before they was due to meet at the park. Picking up his phone, he decided to call his little brother- he knew what excuse to use for his reason for calling.

“Hey, Li.”

“Hi Leo, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Erm, I’m just letting you know that we won’t be attending the ball. Soz bro.”

“Oh. Okay. No worries. Thanks for letting me know. I’ll speak to you later.”

“Speak to me later? Aren’t you going to ask....”

“I don’t understand what you mean Leo? I’m really busy with the ball preparations...”

“You won’t be busy when you hear this... I’ve got a little secret to tell you...”

“Oh no, Leo! You haven’t got Beth pregnant have you? Or are you getting married?”

“Nope...I don’t think so anyway... guess again bro.”

“I’m baffled Leo. I really haven’t got time for this.”

“It’s Riley...”

“Is she okay? Please tell me she’s okay!”

“She’s more than okay. She’s in love.. she confessed it last night....”

“Okay... I’m going Leo. Take care.”

“Liam wait!”

“What?”

“Don’t you want to know who with....”

Liam went silent. He had a feeling it would break his heart- most likely the lucky man would be Drake. The father of her child. A lump formed in his throat, he didn’t want to know.

“I can see that your brain is thinking... as you haven’t answered me yet. Well, I’ll leave you thinking. I might be calling Lady Riley ‘sissy’ soon. See ya, Liam.”

Sissy? Did Leo mean she loved him? No. She only said it as a friend. Leo smirked as he hung up, not giving Liam a chance to respond. He would get them back together. Or he would die trying.

******

The five friend’s did their tour of New York. The girls were exhausted, babysitting three foreign men was not in their job description- they would have been less tired babysitting 3 newborn babies.

“Thanks girls! Today meant the world to me... I’ve taken so many photos! I’m uploading them to Instagram now!”

Riley laughed at Maxwell, he was like a kid in a candy shop- all hyped up. Everyone noticed that Riley was more exhausted than usual- maybe they shouldn’t have forced her to do too much after being discharged.

“You okay Ri? I’ll carry you to the airport if you want?”

“I’m not some invalid, Leo. But thanks. Just let’s take our time though. What time’s the flight?”

“But if Li was here you’d let him carry you? Am I right or am I wrong? And who needs a commercial flight when you’re a Prince?”

“Oh my god. You’ve brought him here haven’t you?”

“How would you react if I did? Jump into his arms? Kiss him?”

Riley bit her lip. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to see him yet. She was having second doubts about going back. Nervous of how he would react seeing her.

“I... I don’t know?”

“I’m messing with ya Ri. It’s only Bastien, that’s meeting us. He’s excited to see you too.”

Riley nodded at Leo, she felt a bit disheartened that Liam wasn’t there. He was always on her mind. She needed to talk to him- even if her mouth released a load of shit that didn’t make sense.

“Excuse me, I just need to call someone.”

Riley walked away from her friends, Leo had a smug expression, knowing talking about Liam would get her thinking about him.

*****

“Liam?”

“Hey Ri. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just worn out. Maxwell is a persistent one. You should check out his Instagram. I don’t know how we’re all breathing still.”

“Heh. That he is. Have you had a good day apart from that?”

“I suppose so. What have you been up to?”

“Preparing for the ball. Paperwork. Council meetings. Oh you know, boring King duties. I could almost hate Leo for abdicating.”

“You sound busier than ever. I’ll let you get off. Li.. you’re a brilliant King considering. Don’t you ever forget that.”

“Thank you Lady Riley. That means a lot to me.”

“You’re welcome, your Majesty. I’ll see you soon okay? I love you.”

Before he could respond she hung up in a flash. She’s just being friendly and polite. She can’t still be in love with me, can she?

Liam didn’t want to get his hopes up. I love you....Sissy..... He wanted her to return as soon as possible. After the ball, he decided he would personally go to New York and attempt win her back. He checked Maxwell’s Instagram profile, seeing a selfie with them all in it- her smile filled his heart with joy. I love you too Ri.

******

The night of the Ball arrived. Liam couldn’t wait for it to be over. He had arranged with the royal guards that he would be absent for a few days as he had to travel to New York. The night crept up slowly, he had hoped the event itself would go quickly- he was wondering what his friends and brother were doing at this moment in time. What Riley was doing.

“His Majesty, King Liam of Cordonia.”

Liam walked into the room, it was full of laughter, the atmosphere was better than the last ball. He walked over to Olivia, Hana and Savannah.

“Hello, Ladies.”

“Li. Nice to see you, your Majesty. It’s a good turn out.”

“Yes, considering the last time, you three were absent- in New York and didn’t tell me.”

“Li, we are sorry for that. But she’s awake now and coming back soon. Chin up.”

“I know. Sorry Liv.” Liam gazed towards the floor, avoiding contact with the Duchess.He didn’t want to be here. Ever since Riley first rung him- he just wanted to hold her protectively, and tell her everything was going to be okay. To tell her he was sorry for messing up his chance with her. To tell her that he would protect her until his dying breath. To tell her, how much she meant to him.

“Hey, what’s up? Has something happened? They are fine. Maxwell informed us all on Instagram.”

“Yeah they are. It’s just... Riley rung me last night... Liv.... She said, she lov-“

Just then there was an announcement. Liam was interrupted and couldn’t finish what he was trying to explain to Olivia. All the guests turned to the entrance of the room, not knowing what to expect. They looked over in anticipation and suspense.

“Prince Leo of Cordonia and Lady Bethany of New York.... Duke Bertrand Beaumont of Ramsford.... Lord Maxwell Beaumont.... Lady Riley Brooks...”

[secretly-a-plant]

PRB 2019 15-1

Here is my contribution to the @phandomreversebang 2019! I had a lot of fun writing this fic and I would like to thank @loyal-phan and @sublimehowlter for being an amazing artist and beta! 

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19930063

The first thing that I register after hitting the damp pavement is that someone is frantically apologizing to me. When I open my eyes I see a tall dark-haired, blue-eyed man offering me a hand. I take it. His hands are smooth and warm, and I realize that I might have been holding on a second longer than acceptable.

“Oh god, I am so sorry!” I’m startled out of my embarrassment by another wave of hurried apologies.

“I was just walking Simon,” at that, I look down to a very adorable corgi sitting obediently at the man's feet “and I wasn’t paying attention and next thing I know-” “Can I pet your dog?” 

“Can you-? Um, yeah. Sure” 

I bend down and start scratching the dog, evidently named Simon, behind his ears.

“What a good boy you are! What a sweet boy.” I hear the man laughing and quickly stand up my cheeks bright red.

“Sorry,” I mumble

“No, it’s alright! I act the same way whenever I see a dog. I should be the one apologizing, your clothes are all wet now.”

“It’s alright, I was on my way home from work anyway.”

“Are you sure? I feel terrible about it.”

‘No really it’s fine, uh,” I break off not sure what his name is.

“Phil.” He supplies with a smile.

“It’s alright Phil.”

“Well, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. It was nice running into you, Phil.”

“Yeah, nice seeing you.”

---

By the time I get home my legs are starting to chafe from the wet denim. It’s alright though, the cute dog more than made up for it. It’s a good thing it happened on my way home from work, however. It would have been hell waiting tables all day with wet jeans. And as kind as my boss is, she never goes easy on us. Especially on Sundays, which just so happens to be our busiest day. 

After a delicious yet slightly pathetic dinner of cold pizza, thoughts of Phil and his dog invade my brain. Out of curiosity I pull out my phone and type Phil into the Instagram search bar. Of course, millions of results pop up. I didn’t have high hopes, but there was a small part of me holding on to the hope that I might be able to find his account using only his first name.

After my fruitless Instagram search, I find myself drifting towards my bed, despite it only being around 9:45. Oh well, long day I guess.  Surprisingly, since it normally takes me ages to fall asleep, I find my eyes drifting shut the minute I hit the mattress.

---

I wake up early, for once, which means I actually have time to enjoy my morning rather than throwing on yesterday’s clothes and quite literally running out the door. I take my time getting out of bed, stopping to look at my phone and take time to wake up. When I finally reach my small kitchen (which didn’t take very long considering how small my flat is) I realize that I have no coffee. I let out a disgruntled sigh as I come to terms with the fact that if I want caffeine, which I do, that I’ll have to head to work early putting my lazy morning to a halt. I grab my keys and head out.

I take my time walking to work, choosing to take the scenic route. Rather than the normal path I take, which has a superb view of trash cans and shady alleyways, today's route is lined with shops and restaurants and a Starbucks. The prospect of going and getting a latte of some sort seems much more appealing than getting a black coffee in a chipped mug. The minute I walk in I’m hit with a wave of warm air. A pleasant contrast to the icy weather outside. I start to head up to the counter, but I stop in my tracks when I come face to face with a pair of familiar blue eyes. 

“Dan!” Phil says with a smile on his face. “What a coincidence!”

I find a smile growing on my face, what can I say? Something about his unwavering happiness is infectious.

“Oh, hi Phil!”

“Can I get you a coffee? I mean obviously, I’m assuming that's why you're here.”

“Uh-” I don’t come here very often, and the combination of my awkwardness in social situations and my lack of familiarity with the menu has me tripping over my words. “Surprise me? Just something with caffeine please.”

“You got it,” Phil responds with a chuckle. I start to pull out my wallet but he cuts me off. “Don’t worry about it, this one’s on the house.”

“It’s fine Phil, really.”

“No seriously, it’s the least I can do after running you over yesterday.”

“Well if you insist. I’ve never been one to turn down free coffee.” I say with a small laugh. 

Phil smiles, before motioning over at the station. “Well if that’s all, I’m just going to go make your coffee.” He awkwardly gestures before walking away. I pull out my phone, scrolling through my Instagram feed while I wait for my coffee. After a few minutes, I see Phil walking back over with a cup in his hand. He hands it to me and looks up expectantly, waiting for me to take a sip. 

“Jesus Phil, this is incredible! What is this?” He laughs

“Caramel Macchiato. My personal favorite.”

“Well if your choice in drinks is always this good you're going to have to surprise me again next time.” My phone buzzes with an alarm reminding me that I have obligations. 

“Oh shit, I have to go, hopefully, I’ll run into you again soon.”

“Yeah, see you soon.”

It’s not until I’m almost at work that I notice a phone number messily scrawled onto the side of my cup.

---

I spend the majority of my break writing and deleting texts to Phil. He’s cute, there's no denying that, and he gave me his number, but it was probably just a friendly gesture. He seems like the type of person who makes friends with everyone. After many texts that I decide are either cringy, boring, or a combination of the two I settled on a simple but reliable ‘Hi its dan :)” and force myself to press send. I spend the last few minutes of my break opening and closing my phone and jumping every time my phone dings. In order to keep the anxiety at bay, I keep reminding myself that he’s at work;  it makes sense if he doesn’t respond. Just because I’m on my break doesn’t mean he’s on his. Eventually, I have to go back to work, leaving my phone and a supposedly unread text in the pocket of my jacket. 

 All throughout the rest of my shift, my walk home, and while making and eating dinner, I try and fail, to forget about my text to Phil. Finally, after I’ve eaten and sunk into my bed for some quality binge-watching time, my phone buzzes. As I reach over, it buzzes again. And then a third time. I laugh to myself as I open my messages to see three texts from Phil.

Hi!!! soz I took so long to reply ^-^ 

have a dog to make up for it

what a good boy!

Is that simon???? 

yes! Im surprised you remembered his name lol

hes the reason i knocked you down yesterday 

well if hes the reason i really cant complain

in fact i feel blessed to have been knocked down by that angel

maybe youd want to meet him again? maybe this time without ending up on the ground lol

I hesitate what to say to that, it feels risky meeting up with Phil. Even if he seems friendly, I did only meet him yesterday. But I also don’t want to pass up the opportunity to get to know him better. 

um yes?

Yay! do you want to meet up tomorrow? Im off of work

yee

starbucks?

sure, me and simon cant wait :)

We end up texting for a while after that. Originally we were just arranging a time to meet, but it slowly turned into Phil asking me about my job, which led to many other things. The more I talked to Phil the more I liked him. We had very similar interests. We had the same taste in video games, music, and even takeaway places. Not to mention talking to Phil felt easy. Social interaction isn't exactly my forte, but with Phil, the conversation flowed smoothly. It would be nice to have a friend outside of work. I love my coworkers and my boss, but it’s not really the same. Besides, the diner is more a family to me than anything. Finally, the conversation winds down, both of us beginning to fall asleep. Even though I’m no longer texting him, I can’t stop thinking about Phil as I fall asleep. 

---

The next day is sunny. A welcome change from the perpetual moistness that has haunted London for the last few days. I spend most of the morning laying in bed scrolling through social media. Not the healthiest past time I’ll admit, but once I get started on the Instagram explore page it’s hard to tear myself away. Eventually, I look at the time and realize that I only have about an hour before I’m supposed to meet Phil. After five more minutes, I drag myself out of bed and towards the shower. 

Several outfit changes later, Starbucks is finally within my line of vision. I check the time to see that I still have a few minutes before Phil is due to get here so I take a seat on a bench and resume my scrolling. Not long after I sit down, however, I am attacked by a bundle of saliva and tan fur, accompanied by frantic calls of “Simon down!”. 

“Hello there!” I say bringing my hands up to try and protect myself from the onslaught of dog. 

“I’m so sorry about him, normally he’s so well behaved, I don’t know why he always jumps on you.”

“It’s really not a problem, Phil,” I say laughing. 

“Well if you insist I guess. Do you want a coffee or anything while we're here?”

“I’m fine, I don’t want to keep you and Simon waiting.”

“Oh, well if you don’t mind I thought you could stay out here with Simon and I could go in and order.”

“I mean I’m always up for hanging out with dogs, but I really can’t have you buying me another coffee.”

“Seriously Dan, it’s fine. Think of it as a gift from Simon. Besides, I have an employee discount.”

I shrug, smiling. I take Simon’s leash from Phil and sit back down.

“Oh, Dan, what do you want?” I find myself breaking into a giant grin, enough to make my dimples pop. 

“Surprise me.”

---

Two sugary coffees later and more walking then I do on a normal day, Phil and I are tossing tennis balls at a dog park. 

“This is one of my favourite places to go with him,” Phil says, gesturing at Simon. “It’s a nice change of pace to be outside rather than stuck on a pavement block all day.”

“Mm. What else do you like to do in your spare time?”

“Uh, well, to be honest, I don’t really go outside that much. I pretty much spend the rest of my time staying inside on the internet.” 

“Me neither to be honest, I spend most of my free time participating in online Mario Kart tournaments, as sad as that seems.”

“You play Mario Kart? We should race sometime.” “Only if you want to lose, Philip.”

“Oh really? Pretty confident for never having seen me play.”

“While I guess we’ll have to change that.”

“It’s a date. Well I mean, not a date date, unless you wanted to. But I mean, I don’t want to presume-”

“Phil, Phil, don’t worry, a date sounds nice. Although, to be honest, I’ve never been asked on a Mario Kart date before. But it does sound much more my style than a fancy dinner. “

“Me too, I’m not much of an extrovert. Oh shit, it’s getting dark. I should probably head home, but I’ll text you yeah?” 

“Yeah sounds great. And Phil?”

“Yeah?” “I definitely prefer your company to video games.”

---

It takes a couple of weeks to find a date that works for both of us, first because of work, and then Phil got sick, and then I got sick. But, on the bright side, we spend almost all of that time texting and face timing, and occasionally I run into him at Starbucks when I’m grabbing a coffee. Unfortunately, my minimum wage and tips don’t cover daily overpriced coffee, even if it means I get to see a very nice, attractive, person. 

On the bright side, we did eventually find a time. That time happens to be tonight, and to say I’m nervous would be an understatement. I end up spending about 45 minutes sorting through every article of clothing that I own before finally settling on jeans and a jumper, an outfit that is safe but far from extraordinary. After getting dressed I spend longer than necessary trying to get my hair to cooperate. Eventually, I just give up and call a cab. One extremely awkward cab ride later and I’m standing outside Phil’s door.  I take a deep breath and raise my hand but before I get a chance to knock the door swings open.

“Dan! Hi! Come in, I’m sorry about the mess, I tried to clean but it's still pretty untidy.” I look down at my feet to see Simon wagging his tail excitedly. “It’s alright, my apartment is probably twice as bad.” As I walk into Phil’s flat and take my shoes off I notice that every surface is covered in something. The bookshelves are covered in plushies and figurines, the windowsills are adorned with plants in a questionable state of health, and the couch has a colourful blue and green quilt draped over the back. All in all, it just looks very Phil. 

“If you want you can have a seat on the couch and I can order a pizza. What type do you like?” I’m startled out of my thoughts by Phil’s voice. I smile, feeling more content with my life then I have in a long time. 

“Surprise me.”

~10 years later~

“The last ten years haven’t been easy. There’s been ups and downs, fortunately mostly ups. But you have been by my side for all of it. People and places have changed but you have remained a constant. I don’t know what life will bring, but I know I want you to be with me. I want to fall asleep next to you every night and wake up next to you every morning. So, Phil Lester, will you marry me?”

[slut4supersoldiers]

Someday.Maybe. Chapter 6

Summary: Throw together a boy and a girl and another boy and 5 middle-schoolers, two adults, a little girl with telekinetic powers, and a monster from another dimension and you’ll get the perfectly strange story.

(AKA: I suck at writing summaries.)

Pairing: Steve Harrington X OC (fem reader) X Billy Hargrove  

Words: 3k+ (this one is long soz!)

Warning: Little bit of angst, Billy’s P.O.V (so some offensive/ nasty thoughts), Strong language

A/n: This chapter is my most favourite so far. Y’all probably know by now that I am a sucker for writing about Billy and this chapter has “Billy’s Point of view” (if that isn’t an incentive then idk what is.) Also: The characters might seem a little confused, i wanted to make them a little nuanced because lets be honest none of us had our shit together as teens.

I do not own Strangers Things nor the GIF.

CATCH UP HERE:

PART I

PART II

PART III

PART IV

PART V

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

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After that day during the summer Steve and I avoided each other like the plague. It started with Steve responding to my greetings with a smile, then a nod, then a glance and finally nothing. He was moving away from me like sand slipping through ones fingers. I began blaming myself. Had it not been for me and my smart mouth I would have still been able to be friends with Steve. But hanging out with him and seeing him look at Nancy the way I wanted him to look at me hurt me in a way I couldn’t explain. The only thing that helped me bare Nancy and Steve was the fact that she made Steve happy.

But the Steve I saw right now was anything but happy.

The boy before me was completely broken. His face was turned away from me but I could see his shoulders shake due to the sobs raking through his body. He was constantly running his fingers through his hair, something I noticed he did when he had a lot on his mind. With some courage I reached out to touch his shoulder.

“Steve.” The nervousness was evident in my voice.

On hearing my voice Steve straightened up and rubbed his nose before turning to look at me.

“(Y/n)” he cleared his throat.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

Steve startled me when he let out a laugh. However, it was not a hearty laugh but more of a melancholic sound.

“Am I okay? No. Apparently everything in my life is bullshit (y/n) so no I am not really okay.” He looked away as the tears surfaced in his eyes again.

“Steve I don’t know what has happened but it will get better.” I put my hand on his shoulder once again.

“Easy for you to say.” He shrugged off my hand.

“What do you mean Steve?” I should’ve walked away but somehow my masochistic, irrational-self did not allow me to do that.

“I don’t understand, you know, Nancy was great. Is great. Things were perfect but then she goes ahead and tells me she doesn’t love me and whatever we had was all bullshit an-

“Steve I am s-

“No (y/n) let me finish.” He raised his hand shutting up me up instantly.

“Then, that day you had to ruin things. I have never had anyone care for me like you did. I know we hadn’t been talking as much as we did earlier but whenever we hung out you always listened, you always paid attention to me and showed appreciation for everything I did and I loved it. I really like it and liked everything about you. But now I hate you because I can’t hate you and Nancy…goes and…she…

He slid down against the car and sat on the ground. I could feel my resolve crumbling as his words began seeping in. I was just as confused as Steve was but trying to make sense of his words hurt me a lot more.

As if things were not terrible enough a sudden movement startled us. Both of us turned our heads to look at Jonathan holding up a very drunk Nancy and hauling her to his car. That’s when I realised that Steve probably asked Jonathan to drive Nancy back.

Steve got up angrily as the car sped away muttering something under his breath. He pulled open the door of his own car and got in.

“Steve you shouldn’t drive. Let me dri-

“(y/n) don’t you fucking get it. I want to be alone. Leave me alone.” His voice came out louder than I had ever heard. I had never seen him this angry. I backed away as he drove away without even a glance in my direction.

I let out a shaky breath as I realised I would have to walk home alone. I wiped at the tears that involuntarily rolled down my cheeks. Wrapping my arms tightly around my torso I began the long walk home.

However, while I was busy wallowing in my misery I completely overlooked Billy Hargrove standing by the doorway looking at the whole ordeal unravelling before him.

Billy’s P.O.V:

Since the moment I stepped into Hawkins I knew life was going to suck. California was paradise. California was home. But just like every good thing in my life my home was taken away from me and instead I had now landed in a town that constantly smelled like cow shit.

I could not let anyone else walk over me or take things away from me anymore. So the day I stepped into the high school I decided to maintain a place for myself above everyone. And it was a cake walk for me. All I had to do was undo a few buttons of my shirt, flash my pearly smile and make the buffoons around me feel like they were my friends. Slowly everyone started flocking around me. I even managed to dethrone the ‘reigning king of Hawkins’ Steve Harrington. 

Still the lack of difficulty was making life boring. I needed a challenge, which seemed difficult considering the fact that every female (both young and old) was throwing herself at me, shamelessly. The only two people who seemed to flock away from the herd were Harrington’s girlfriend and (y/n). Harrington’s girl was never on my radar. As much of an asshole as I was I would never pin for someone who was taken, let alone Nancy Wheeler, the poster girl for preppy.

(Y/n) on the other hand caught my attention immediately. From the Intel I had received from Tommy about the status quo in Hawkins, (y/n) was initially great friends with Steve but her reputation had spiraled down after she started hanging out with the Byers kid, who was far out of the social ladder.

I admit it, I thought she was cute from the first day and as infuriating as her dismissive attitude was, it was also kind of a turn on. The way she squirmed when I’d make a slightly crude comment or how her face heated up when she bit back at me, amused me and made me feel a twitch in my jeans all at the same time. But I wasn’t going to admit that I was infatuated by her, precisely because of her ‘social ranking’. If I had to keep my newly-earned crown I had to follow the status-quo. 

But that didn’t keep me from “giving her a hard time” as I made Tommy and Carol believe. In reality I wanted to crack her and see where I could take things with her. Jeez! Get a grip, man! 

So unbeknownst to Tommy and Carol I invited her to Tina’s Halloween Party.

Now Halloween parties in California meant hot chicks and binge drinking and sometimes if we’d be lucky one of the rich kids would throw a party and invite the whole school. As much as I hated their snooty, snobbish behavior the rich kids always had good booze. Parties in Cali were totally raging.

The Halloween party in Hawkins however was just as terrible as the people here. The girls dressed like they were competing for the crown of “Prude of the year” and the drinks all tasted like girly, fruity drinks or piss. But I’d rather be at this sorry excuse of a party than home listening to Susan reminiscing about Halloween as a child, all the while resisting the urge to not roll my eyes.

The party was still boring and Duran Duran was still blaring through the record player. But the boring party soon became a lot better as my eyes fell on the Keg stand. Fucking finally, something good was happening in Hawkins.

“Hargrove wanna give it a shot?” Tommy asked noticing my excitement.

“Shot? I am about to make a record. I’ll show y’all Hawkins idiots how to party.” I bellowed.

“Well you’re gonna have to break Steve’s record. He is the Keg King. Just last year he managed to do a st-

I completely blocked him out the moment he said “break Steve’s record”. Steve Harrington was everything I hated. He was rich, and almost too nice. And I knew there was no chance there would be another king in my presence.

I didn’t have to say anything to anyone. The moment I moved towards the stand everybody parted to make way for me. And just like that in no time I had smashed ‘Keg King Steve’s’ record. Another easy task.

With the energy pulsing through me I grabbed the cigarette from Tommy’s fingers and took a long drag. “That’s how you do it in Hawkins.” I screamed. The people in Hawkins would now understand what a real party is.

Everybody huddled around me and began patting my back as Tommy declared I was the new ‘Keg King’. Girls began eyeing me as the remnants of beer began trickled down my shirtless torso. I mean I wouldn’t really blame them.

“We have ourselves a new keg king.” Tommy announced once more as we entered the house. Once we walked in my eyes fell on the one and only Steve Harrington who suddenly stopped dancing as he heard Tommy’s declaration.

“He broke your record. He is the new keg king Harrington.” If Steve was not alert before he was now. He came to a complete halt and took off his glasses eyeing both Tommy and I. His girlfriend, who was annoyingly attached to his hip like always, looked at the both of us and walked away rolling her eyes. Before I could say anything to Harrington he had followed his girlfriend towards the kitchen like a lost boy.

“He is so whipped. What a pussy.” Tommy chuckled.

However, instead of agreeing with Tommy and making things worse of Harrington, I halted as my eyes caught the sight of the one person who I was looking forward to see but didn’t expect would show up. (Y/n)

“Yo check it out, Miss Goody two shoes coming over.” Tommy who seemed to follow my line of vision, hollered. I wanted to talk to her so bad. But the thought sounded ridiculous and if Tommy found out I was thinking in such a way the results would be much worse.

So when Tommy menacingly whispered, “looks like goody two shoes needs to loosen up.” I smirked and agreed.

Following my command Tommy walked in front of her blocking her from entering another room, while I stealthily I walked behind her to block her from turning and leaving. When she saw Tommy she halted, I leaned down and whispered lowly in her ear, “Hey, Doll face.”  

The first time I called her that in front of Tommy and Carol they pulled a face and asked me why I called her that, since then I kept telling them and anyone who asked “I love how worked up she gets every time I call her that.” But in reality she kinda looked like one of those dolls that little shitheads play with. What the fuck Hargrove! Focus!

“Billy have you heard of this thing called personal space or did you skip the class where they taught that too?” she turned to look at me. The moment she said my name I could feel all the blood rush down to my crotch. The thought of my name leaving her lips as I bent her over every fucking surface ran through my mind. Hey I am a man after all, cut me some slack!

“Wow doll face, my name sounds sexier when you say it.” I mean it was the truth.

“What do you want Hargrove?” She huffed.

“Why don’t we grab a beer, go upstairs and have a chat about what I want?” I licked my lips gaining hoots from Tommy and his friends. Maybe it was some hormones shit or alcohol or both but all I wanted was to take her upstairs and show her a good time without caring about what anyone else thought.

“Why don’t you go bother someone who actually cares?” the previous hoots by Tommy and and cronies turned into snickers. I clenched my jaw partially out of anger at Tommy and his friends and partially because her dismissive attitude pushed me to try harder. But my reputation was more important to me. I didn’t want to be like Steve Harrington running behind some girl when she didn’t show any interest. I needed a push to get away from this girl in front of me.

So without a thought I grabbed the cup out of Carol’s hand and downed the drink. With the disgusting drink giving me the final push I announced, “Let’s get out of here.” Giving (y/n) one final look I walked towards the backyard.

 At around midnight people began trickling out. Tina, had already passed out on the couch and so had half the people. The rest were dancing to some bubble-gum pop bullshit that was being played on loop. I for one lost all the interest after my encounter with (y/n). Did I love a challenge when it came to girls? Of course. But I hated when they got the last word in. And what’s worse was Tommy had actually gotten a hint about how I felt towards (y/n).

Ignoring his inquisitive behaviour I finally decided to drive back home. After years of partying I had learned to handle my alcohol enough to stay in my senses.

I lit up a cigarette and blew out the smoke as I trudged in the direction of my car. As I was descending down the final flight of stairs my eyes fell on two familiar figures. Steve Harrington and (y/n). Before I could go and intervene I saw Harrington furiously get into his car leaving a distraught (y/n) behind. She wiped her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself.

Maybe it was the fact that I was finally alone or whatever, I wanted to help her. So I got into my car and slowly started trailing (y/n) in the hopes of not startling her. But I was wrong. The headlights and soft rumble of the car made her stop dead in her tracks.

“What do you want Hargrove?” I raised my eyebrows in surprise. She knew it was me without even looking back. Cute.

“A lot of things actually, a new car, some cash, a one way ticket out of this shit hole.” I chuckled as I got out of the car and approached her.

She still refused to look at me. I continued anyway.

“But right now doll face, I’d like for you to get away from this cold and in my car.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“I wouldn’t get in your car even if my life depended on it.” She huffed and turned to face me. Her hair was a little messed due to the wind. Her red rimmed, puffy eyes stared into mine and without even thinking I reached out to cup her tear stained cheeks.

“What happened?” I bent down at eye level with her.

“Huh! As if you care.” She swatted away my hand and began walking in the opposite direction.

Before I could follow her she suddenly turned around and looked at me.

“If I get in your car right now will you stop annoying me henceforth?” She ran her fingers through her hair.

“You got it Doll-face.” I gave her a lopsided grin and opened the door to the passenger seat for her. Pouting a little she complied and got in the car.

Following suite, I got in the car and turned the ignition on and then turned the heat to its fullest. A small sigh of relief left (Y/n)’s lips but she was still shivering and rubbing her hands up and down her arms.

“There’s…uh…a jacket in the back seat if you can just…

Eyeing me a little she reached out and grabbed my denim jacket that was lying on the back seat.

“Why are you being so nice?” (y/n) cut through the silence.

“I don’t know.” And I honestly didn’t. I was Billy Hargrove resident asshole (I’ve heard worse). This was certainly not how I treated anyone in this town.

But there was something about (y/n). Yes it was cliché but with (y/n) I didn’t have to live up to a reputation. She seemed completely indifferent towards me. She wasn’t impressed by the bad boy act so I thought maybe she would appreciate me being…nice. Damn! Hargrove stop turning into a softie. You’re behaving like a wimp.

“It’s because your friends aren’t around, right?” She murmured.

Startled, I looked at her for a second, “(y/n) it’s…I can’t-

“It’s okay Billy! I am used to people turning to me whenever they feel its right.” She sighed and pulled the jacket off. It was hard to focus on the directions she gave me after hearing the sad tone of her voice. When I pulled over in front of her house, she folded the jacket and handed it to me, “Thanks Hargrove.” She smiled.

“Give it to me tomorrow.” I winked at her.

She shook her head and put it on my lap, “Don’t want your friends to get the wrong idea.” She gave me a sad smile. I was surprised at how well she could read me and for a moment I sat there; dumbfounded. Maybe she really was nice and it wasn’t an act. Maybe there was one beacon of hope in this shitty town and I was being an asshole unnecessarily. Suddenly recovering from the epiphany I turned to pull the passenger door shut that she had opened. I ended up trapping her body against the seat in the process.

“For the record I do care.” She furrowed her brows but suddenly nodded as if remembering what she had said earlier.

“Sure. Goodnight Billy.” My name softly rolled off her tongue in a whisper. She held her gaze with me as if expecting me to say something. Honestly in that moment I just wanted to apologize to her for being a dick and feel her lips against mine.

“Good Night (y/n)” She raised her eyebrows in surprise as she heard me say her name, probably for the first time. Without saying much she slowly got out of the car and walked towards her house.

As she walked into the house I grabbed the jacket that she had left, her scent faintly lingered on the fabric. This definitely wasn’t infatuation anymore. That’s when I knew, I was a dead man! 

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[bangtaninink]

Hi Ary! This is going to be a long text but if you ever get inspired to write about barista!yoongi, do you think you could write one about him working in a hospital cafe, and always seeing med student/intern!OC with her team after ward rounds (because everyone in the hospital gets coffee after ward rounds), and he thinks she's really pretty but she always looks so serious when she's with her team?? but basically if you write this it will end me (no pressure love u) - whitecoat anon

Bit of background to my request - i’m a med student, just started working in the hospital and i always see the same baristas every morning after we finish ward rounds and head down to grab coffee! just thought it’d be really really cute (not that i have a crush on the baristas or anything but it’s just nice b/c they know everyone’s orders even if you’ve been on the team for like 2 days??) ok soz i will leave now, as always your writing is amazing and you are talented as FFF - whitecoat anon

Doctor, doctor (gimme the news)

a/n: this is super late, i’m sorry. but also, i loved this idea??? bc it’s kinda relatable (but not, bc i’m not a med student -- god do i wish though). all the best with your studies though, whitecoat anon!! (that’s the cutest sign off name ever though. bless.) ♡

“Incoming.”

Yoongi glances up from the magazine in his hands to watch a stream of people walk in, chattering amongst themselves as they all take their seats at the biggest table in the cafe.

“Must be the new interns Seokjin hyung was telling me about,” Namjoon says, smiling politely to the few that look in his direction.

“Interns?” Jeongguk asks.

“They’re like… doctors in training.”

“Ooh.”

“There’re so many of them,” Yoongi mumbles, looking on with awe. “Didn’t realise we had so many nerds in the country.”

“Careful,” Namjoon chuckles. “These people could save your life one day. Alright. Let’s look alive. Looks like they’ll be ordering in a bit.”

Jeongguk finishes arranging the display cabinet with the fresh batch of cakes and baked goods while Yoongi puts away his magazine, taking over from Namjoon who’s busy trying to rip open a new bag of coffee beans to refill the machine with. Namjoon smiles sheepishly, giving Yoongi a gentle pat on the shoulder before walking to the storeroom to grab a box of new paper cups and lids.

It’s an unspoken arrangement, the way Jeongguk automatically mans the register while Yoongi stays behind the espresso machine, grinding and pouring as needed, Namjoon staying clear away from any kind of service, lest his hands accidentally spill or drop anything ordered. It’s the way Yoongi likes it though, preferring Jeongguk to engage in the small talk with that boyish charm and charismatic smile of his, the younger being the best candidate to pull the staff away from the gruelling reality of hospital life, even for just a minute. Yoongi wholeheartedly believes that Jeongguk is the best kind of distraction that this cafe can offer this hospital, and has caught the younger venturing off to the paediatric ward on his lunch breaks to play with the children on multiple occasions already.

“_____?” Yoongi calls out, sliding the next coffee forward. You look up from the folder in your hand when your name is called, walking up to the counter. “Flat white with… two sugars…”

You tilt your head a little when the barista’s voice seems to trail off, but smile anyway and thank him, grabbing your coffee and walking back to the table to join the rest of your group.

Yoongi doesn’t even realise he’s staring because no one’s there to bring his attention back to coffee. He can hear a distant no, I’m not here for coffee. I just wanted to come and talk to you because you looked cute in your apron somewhere off to the side, but pays no mind to it, and misses the way a slight flush of pink colours Jeongguk’s cheeks at some intern’s persistent flirting.

(He later hears said intern’s name is Kim Taehyung, and Jeongguk is already head over heels for the aspiring paediatrician.)

But it’s the sound of toppling boxes that drags him back to reality and forces his attention to the back where Namjoon emerges from the storeroom, clipboard in hand as he shakes sugar out of his hair.

Four coffees and a hot chocolate later, Yoongi still can’t take his eyes away from you, sitting quietly at the end of the table, writing and sipping while the rest of the interns are deep in discussion. He wipes the steam nozzle with a damp cloth with barely a second thought, peering in between two stacks of coffee cups to watch you turn to the intern beside you, pointing down at the paperwork in front of you.

“Hyung, can I have a coffee?” Jeongguk asks, wiping his hands on his apron. Yoongi doesn’t respond, and just keeps on wiping the steam nozzle distractedly. “Hyung. Hyung.”

“What, Jeongguk?” Yoongi asks, clicking his tongue when the younger shakes his arm.

“I said, can I have a coffee?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure.”

With furrowed eyebrows, Jeongguk watches Yoongi get back into his usual routine of tampering down ground coffee beans and frothing up milk with his usual expressionless face, but working long enough at the cafe has meant Jeongguk is a little better at reading the elder’s behaviour.

“What’s up, hyung?” he asks. “Something wrong?” Yoongi shakes his head, shrugging. “You seem… distracted.”

“Do I?” Yoongi returns, nonchalant as he hands Jeongguk his coffee. “Maybe I need a coffee too.” Jeongguk shrugs.

“Yeah, maybe.” Yoongi’s back to wiping the steam nozzle when the younger leans against the counter, drinking. “So, hey. The new interns seem pretty cool.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. They’re a lot nicer than all the other staff that come in.”

“That’s because they’re still clueless to the horrors of a hospital, Guk-ah,” Yoongi chuckles, putting the cloth down and following suit, resting his hip against the counter, arms crossed over his chest.

“No, I don’t mean like that. I mean they’re just… nicer.”

Yoongi narrows his eyes, suspicious, and looks over his shoulder at the table of interns before turning his attention back to Jeongguk.

“Don’t tell me you like one of them already.” Jeongguk sputters and puts his coffee down, straightening up as Yoongi watches with amusement.

“What’re you— I— I don’t like like him!”

“Yet,” Yoongi adds with another chuckle.

“I was just intrigued because he works in the paediatric ward, okay?” Yoongi nods slowly, looking smug.

“Which one?”

“The one next to the girl at the end. The one with the pinky-red hair.”

The both of them glance over the espresso machine at the interns, eyes drawn to the head of hair almost immediately. Yoongi lets out an unassuming hum, resisting the urge to shift his eyes to the intern beside him — you.

“The kids must love that hair,” Yoongi comments.

“Yeah. He said a couple of the girls braided his hair the other day and it took him and his friend _____ an hour to untangle it all,” Jeongguk replies, chuckling. Yoongi tries not to perk up too obviously at the sound of your name.

“_____?”

“Yeah, the girl next to him. They’re, like, childhood best friends or something. I think Taehyung — that’s the guy with the hair — said they met in the church choir or whatever.”

“What, she sings?”

“No, she’s their pianist. Like, a lowkey prodigy.” (Yoongi tries to keep his face as straight as possible after hearing this.)

“You got all this information in a two-minute conversation?” Yoongi asks, arching an eyebrow; Jeongguk shrugs, picking up his coffee again.

“He’s pretty much an open book.”

“The barista keeps looking at you.”

You’re halfway through your paperwork when Taehyung leans over to whisper in your ear, chuckling lowly when you look at him with confusion.

“The barista,” he repeats, nodding his head towards the front of the cafe. “He’s been sneaking glances through those paper cups for the last ten minutes.”

You lift your head and look forward, past the shoulder of the intern in front of you to where the barista is standing, talking to the cashier and who you’re assuming is the manager. You watch the barista ruffle his hair; it’s just a few shades lighter than Taehyung’s, and definitely not as bright.

“Why would he be looking at me?” you ask.

“Well, I dunno, hot stuff,” Taehyung laughs. “Maybe he was surprised by your weird coffee order.”

“Pfft. What’s weird about a flat white? If anyone has a weird coffee order, it’s you, Mr. Mocha-With-Caramel-Syrup-And-One-Sugar. How can you even drink that and not be a diabetic?”

“Great genetics, I guess,” he replies, shrugging. “But seriously. He keeps looking at you.”

“Maybe he’s looking at you and your hair.”

“No, he’s definitely looking at you. Jeongguk’s the one looking at me.”

“Who’s Jeongguk?”

“The cutie at the register.” You watch as Taehyung sighs wistfully, leaning forward and cradling his chin in his hand. “I’d love to tap that.”

(You consider it small miracle that you hadn’t decided to take a sip then. You would’ve definitely spat it out all over your work.)

“Taehyung, please,” you groan.

“Just telling the truth. I’m under Hippocratic Oath, you know.”

“How the hell are those two things related?” you say, trying desperately not to burst out laughing.

“No idea, but I know that I’m gonna get a piece of that cute-ass cashier. Mark my words.”

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head and turn your attention back to the paperwork in front of you. Taehyung, however, seems to have other plans.

“_____. Let me borrow some money.”

“What now?” you groan.

“Well I need a reason to go back to the counter now, don’t I?”

“Hello again,” Jeongguk says, smiling amusedly. “Did you change your mind about the coffee?”

“Nope. I just missed you,” Taehyung replies, leaning against the counter. Jeongguk chuckles quietly, while Yoongi rolls his eyes from the other end.

“Can I get you something, Taehyung-sshi?”

“I’ll take a slice of the chocolate brownie and your phone number, thank you.” As he passes by, Namjoon whistles and laughs.

“Smooth,” he comments, walking back around the counter to disappear, once again, in the storeroom. Shaking his head and smiling, Jeongguk reaches for a pair of tongs and opens up the display cabinet.

“Hey, Jeongguk. What’s the barista’s name?” Taehyung asks.

“Hmm? Oh. That’s Yoongi hyung.”

Hearing his name, Yoongi looks up and turns to where Taehyung stands, pen still poised over his clipboard.

“Kim Taehyung, aspiring paediatrician,” Taehyung says, holding out his hand with a smile. Yoongi tucks his pen behind his ear and reaches out to shake his hand.

“Uh, Min Yoongi, barista and, uh… aspiring musician?” he replies.

“Ooh. Musician. How ‘bout you, Jeongguk? What’re you aspiring to be?”

“I…” Jeongguk straightens up, holding a brownie slice in between the tongs. “Have absolutely no goddamn clue.”

Yoongi snorts. Taehyung laughs.

“So. Min Yoongi. You taken?” Both Jeongguk and Yoongi freeze at Taehyung’s abruptness. “I’m asking for a friend. Don’t worry.”

“Um… no?” Yoongi replies.

“You don’t sound so sure about that.” Yoongi clears his throat.

“Uh, no,” he repeats, careful not to inflect the end of his sentence. “No, I’m… not taken.”

“Interesting.” He’s not really sure why, but Yoongi feels nervous watching Taehyung’s eyes narrow a little as he nods his head. “Good to know. Anyway. What do I owe you, Jeongguk?”

“On the house,” Jeongguk declares. “Just… don’t tell Namjoon hyung.”

“You sure?” Jeongguk nods. “Well, thanks. _____’ll be glad to know she just saved some money.” Yoongi resists the urge to ask more at the mention of you, and just goes back to conducting inventory. Taehyung turns on his heels to leave.

“Wait!”

“Hmm?”

Frantic, Jeongguk looks around, grabbing a napkin and plucking the pen from Yoongi’s hand without warning.

“Here,” he says, holding the napkin out to Taehyung. Taehyung takes it, looks down at the black ink starting to bleed through, and grins.

As Taehyung walks back to the table, Yoongi pulls the pen out of Jeongguk’s hand, annoyed at the giddy look on the younger’s face.

“That brownie’s coming out of your pay, you brat.”

(“Good news,” Taehyung announces, dropping himself into the chair next to you. “The barista is single.”

It takes you a moment to register his words, but when it sinks it, you drop your pen, mortified.

“Taehyung. You didn’t.”

“His name is Min Yoongi and he’s a barista-slash-aspiring-musician. Brownie?”)

“Hey.” You put your folders down onto the counter, reaching into your pocket in search of money.

“Morning, _____,” Yoongi says, flashing you a little smile. “Uh, on your own today?”

“The rest of the group’re on their way. I think all my time in A&E has made me a little too quick on my feet. Taehyung had, like, three kids clinging to his legs when I passed by Paediatric too.”

Yoongi chuckles softly.

“You’re A&E?”

“Yup.”

“So you’ve probably got some crazy shifts, huh,” he says.

“Yeah. Everyone thinks I’m crazy for willingly choosing that department, when you’ve got wards like Maternity and Paediatric, but… I dunno. I guess I just live for a shit ton of work and adrenaline being piled onto me.” You smile when Yoongi snorts and shakes his head.

“You probably don’t get much time off then, huh. Compared to the other interns, I mean,” he says. “A&E’s probably a lot more demanding than, like, Palliative Care and stuff.”

“Yeah, me and the couple of guys wanting to get into surgery probably have it the worst,” you reply. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. We’re all suffering. Hospital internships are no joke. But I think I’m allowed to say I suffer just that little bit more.”

“I guess that’s why you always look so serious all the time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Every time you come in here with the other interns, you’re nose is always, like, buried in paperwork, while… what’s his name… Taehyung? Taehyung seems to be having the time of his life flirting with our cashier, Jeongguk.”

With a hint of a grin on your lips, you lean forward and prop your elbow up on the counter, chin resting on your fist.

“Oh, so Taehyung was right. You have been sneaking glances over at me.” You watch Yoongi’s expression drop, mortified as he struggles to find a reply.

“Wh— n-no, I— that’s not—” he stammers, looking left and right and in every direction that isn’t right at you. Your shoulders begin to shake as you desperately try to hold back your laughter and fail, fist pressed to your lips in an attempt to muffle the sound. Yoongi’s cheeks flush a soft shade of pink. “Wait. T-that’s not what I meant.”

“It’s fine,” you say, reassuring him with a dismissive wave of your hand. “It’s good to know you’re not repelled by Resting Bitch Face.”

Dragging a hand down his face, Yoongi groans quietly.

“So fucking embarrassing. I’ve been hanging around Jeongguk and Namjoon too long.”

The last of your laughter trails off when your pocket starts to beep, and you pull your pager out just as a stream of interns begins to pour into the cafe, Taehyung and his disheveled hair included.

“You’d think, in this day and age, that pagers would be relics by now,” you say, studying the message on the little display before dropping it back into your pocket. “I’d love to stay and chat, but duty calls.”

“Right,” Yoongi says, trying not to sound disappointed.

“I’ll just take my coffee to go, if that’s okay. Flat white, two sugars?”

“No problem.”

You leave your money on the counter as Yoongi walks to the end of the counter to the espresso machine, quick to make your coffee, knowing you need to leave. It’s as if you’ve just managed to pick your folders back up again when he’s back in front of you, holding your cup of coffee out towards you. You thank him and turn to walk out.

“_____, wait!” Yoongi calls out. You turn to look over your shoulder, mid-sip. “Your change.”

“Keep it,” you say, chuckling. “Consider it an incentive.” His eyebrows furrow with confusion.

“Incentive… for what?”

“To continue being unaffected by my RBF. Catch you later.”

“Aha. Busted.”

Yoongi swivels around, almost spitting out a mouthful of coffee as he looks at you, leaning against the front counter with a cheeky smile. He chuckles airily through his nose, putting his mug down as he swallows, wiping his hands on his apron.

“Jesus. I nearly choked just now,” he says, shaking his head as he grabs a paper cup — the largest size — ready to start on your coffee.

“That’s alright. I’m trained, remember?” you reply.

“Lucky me. The usual? Flat white, two sugars, right?”

“You remembered.” The abrasive hum of the grinder fills the air, the scent of freshly ground coffee pleasantly filling your nose. You sigh with contentment. “Maybe I should just hang out here for the rest of my internship. Coffee smells a lot better than disinfectant and hand sanitiser.” Yoongi chuckles, not looking up from the jug of milk in his hand, the whistle and hiss of the steam nozzle almost drowning out any other sound in the cafe.

“So. How were your rounds this morning?” he asks. “Any gruesome stories to tell me today?”

“No, unfortunately,” you reply with an exaggerated sigh. “An earlier shift means that more than half of the guys in my ward were still dead asleep when I got to their beds.”

“Not sure ‘dead’ is the best word to use when describing hospital patients, _____.” Yoongi glances up at you briefly, milk ready and poised to be poured into your cup; you look back at him, mortified.

“Shit.” You drag a hand down your face with a groan as he puts everything down, too busy laughing to concentrate on pouring properly. Behind you, the rest of the interns at your table look in your direction, interest piqued by the sudden raucous and the sight of you leaning over the counter to punch Yoongi in the arm. “Shut up. It was a figure of speech.”

“Yeah,” he says, wiping away the tears starting to form in his eyes with the pad of his thumb before getting back to work. “Probably the worst figure of speech someone in your position could use.”

“Shut up.”

The back storeroom door opens, and Jeongguk steps out, a giant cardboard box in his hands.

“Oh. Hey. I thought I heard you,” he says, smiling as he drops the box onto the back counter.

“Morning, Jeongguk. Feel free to not divulge any details about your date with Taehyung last night. I’m pretty sure I’ve heard it all already. Twice.” Jeongguk laughs.

“Seokjin hyung told me about that emergency tracheotomy you did the other night. Nice work.”

“Oh yeah. That was a real adrenaline rush. I’ve never been more terrified of screwing up in my life. But he got moved from the ICU to general recovery a couple days ago so that’s a plus.”

Yoongi whistles appreciatively as he finishes securing the plastic lid over your coffee cup, saying, “impressive shit there, almost-doc.”

“Thanks,” you chuckle, sliding over your money. “See you guys around.”

It’s just the sound of the register opening and shutting as Yoongi counts your money out (more out of habit than distrust at this point) and slides it into the till for a while, until Jeongguk decides to stop unpacking the new box of coffee cups to lean over and whisper in the elder’s ear.

“Asked her out yet, hyung?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Surprised, Yoongi turns his head towards the younger.

“What are you, nuts? I’m not gonna ask _____ out, you brat,” Yoongi hisses.

“Why not? You obviously like her.”

“I do not.”

“You so do,” Jeongguk argues, throwing his head back with hearty laughter. “It’s written all over your face, hyung. Don’t think I don’t notice the way you always say yes to Namjoon hyung every time he asks if you can do the morning shift these days.”

“Taking the morning shift means I have the rest of the day to do shit.”

Jeongguk hums, unconvinced.

“Not because _____ noona just happens to work the overnight and morning shifts.”

“No. And since when have you gotten close enough to _____ that you can start calling her noona?”

“Taehyung hyung said I could. But, fine. Whatever you say, hyung. Where do you want these to go?”

It’s routine by this point, the way you head straight to the cafe as soon as your rounds are done, not caring if you’re joined by the rest of the interns or not.

“Morni— woah.”

Yoongi raises his eyebrows, watching as you tiredly drop the pile of paperwork in your arms down onto the counter, sighing and running your fingers through your hair.

“Hey,” you mumble.

“You okay?” he asks, slowly reaching for a paper cup, making sure not to take his eyes away from you. You shrug in reply, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the front counter, hanging your head down as he gets to work on making your coffee.

Behind the espresso machine, Yoongi casts you worried glances, not used to seeing you so sullen and quiet. He can hear rattling and chaos behind him in the storeroom, a prompt I’m okay! called out by Jeongguk after the distinct sound of something shattering, but Yoongi barely notices, too distracted by the sight of you so distraught.

“Flat white with two su—”

“I lost a patient.”

He freezes completely, stops pushing the fresh cup of coffee across the counter to you, watching as you gnaw on your bottom lip, looking off to the side.

“I lost a patient,” you repeat, sounding so much more broken than you’d hoped, your voice unsteady and shaky. “I watched his blood pressure drop to almost nothing in a matter of minutes. H-he was only twelve, Yoongi. I watched a twelve year old boy die right in front of me, and I couldn’t do jack shit.” You let out a stuttered exhale, straightening up and scratching your temple. “That’s the first time that’s happened to me. I’m the first intern in the group to lose a patient.”

“I’m… I’m sorry to hear that, _____,” Yoongi says.

“Yeah,” you mumble.

“Hey.” He reaches over to lay his hand over yours where it still rests on the counter. “You’ll be okay. Patients pass all the time, even after you’ve done everything you can.”

“I just… I didn’t think it’d happen three weeks into my internship.” You stare down at Yoongi’s hand on top of yours to distract yourself, trying hard not to become an emotional wreck in the middle of the cafe so early in the morning. “Like, I can’t help but think now if there was something I could’ve done, if I should’ve done something differently to have prevented it.”

“It’s just the way life is,” Yoongi replies, giving your fingers a gentle, sympathetic squeeze. “I’ve seen a lot of the staff come in here after they’ve lost patients too. It doesn’t get any easier. You just learn to accept fate. You know what always helps though?”

“What?”

“Coffee.”

Despite yourself, you find yourself letting out an airy chuckle, shaking your head as you rub the inner corner of your eye.

“Right,” you mumble, the smallest hints of a smile on your lips as you reach into your pocket to grab your money. Before you can find anything, Yoongi squeezes your hand and stops you.

“Don’t worry about it. Just take it easy, _____,” he says. You look up at him, eyes flicking down to the soft smile he flashes you.

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

You nod in reply with no words left to say, picking up your paperwork and coffee and walking over to your usual table.

It isn’t long before the rest of the interns join you, their raucous chatter quieting down to almost silence when they all spot you, slouched in your seat, paperwork and drink untouched while you stare down at the chipped lacquer on the edges of the table. While everyone walks over to the counter to order their drinks, Taehyung detours and walks over to stand behind your chair and wrap his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“How you holding up, squirt?” he says, rocking you gently from side to side. You smile a little, not taking your eyes off of the table as you reach up to pat the back of his hands.

“I’m alright, toots,” you reply. “Just gonna zone out for a little while.”

“You want anything else from the front?” You shake your head, your cheek squished up against the side of Taehyung’s head. He nods, and straightens up, giving your shoulders a squeeze before walking up to the counter.

“Hey, hyung,” Jeongguk says, greeting Taehyung with a small wave.

“Hey-a, Guk.”

“Hey, um… is _____ noona okay? Did something happen?”

“I think she will be,” Taehyung replies, looking over his shoulder. “She lost a patient this morning.”

“Holy shit,” Jeongguk gasps.

“It was bound to happen sooner or later, I guess, what with her working in A&E and all. But she probably wasn’t expecting it to happen to her so early in the game, y’know?”

“What happened?”

“_____’s ward rounds are a bit different to the rest of ours. You know how, in the movies, it’s like a group of students following around the main doctor around to different patients and just observing how they interact with the patient and stuff? That’s how it is for me and the rest of the guys at the table. But with _____ being in A&E, she doesn’t really have that because Emergency doesn’t really have a structure like all the other wards do. And since she’s the only intern in A&E, she kinda just shadows the senior doctor over there. So it’s not really ‘ward rounds’ for her per se, but like, actual on-your-feet experience. Anyway. I think they said it was, like, seven-ish? Seven-thirty? A&E got a call about an incoming patient, a kid who was hit by a car on his way to school. A hit and run somewhere near Incheon. The kid came in and… God, he was just a mess, but she tried, she really tried to keep him here. They all did. But it wasn’t even ten minutes after his admission that he flatlined.”

Yoongi, who’d been standing off to the side, walks closer to where Jeongguk and Taehyung stand to listen, to get the answer to the question he didn’t dare ask you earlier when you’d been standing just a few feet away from him.

“Christ,” he mutters, looking over Taehyung’s shoulder where you sit, sipping at your coffee, which by now must be closer to cold than lukewarm. “That’s intense.” Jeongguk nods silently in agreement.

“Thank fuck she’s got the day off tomorrow,” Taehyung says, sighing quietly. Without instruction, Jeongguk reaches into the fridge beside the display cabinet, pulling out a bottle of orange juice to slide over to Taehyung. Taehyung, in return, slides over his money.

“Should we give her something to eat?” Jeongguk asks, looking first at Yoongi, then at Taehyung. “One of the brownies, or the custard tart, or a cooki—”

“Nah, I asked her already. She said she doesn’t want anything.”

“Oh. Okay.”

A distant beeping catches everyone’s attention, and they all turn and watch you pull your pager out, looking down at the display before picking up your paperwork and coffee and standing. There are looks of surprise and confusion from the interns, Jeongguk and Yoongi alike as they watch you head towards the doors.

Looking over your shoulder, you glance at Taehyung, Jeongguk, and Yoongi, raising an eyebrow.

“What?” you ask.

“Another emergency?” Taehyung asks. You can’t help but laugh.

“It’s the A&E, Tae. It’s always an emergency.”

Jeongguk is busy packing away everything in the cake cabinet while Yoongi is sweeping the floor when you walk back into the cafe, fatigue very clear in your body language.

“Sorry, we’re clo— oh.” Yoongi looks up, the broom still in his hand, watching as you pull out a chair and drop yourself into the seat, fortunately sans paperwork. With a sigh, you hang your head back and stare up at the ceiling.

“I’ll just be a sec,” you say. “I just need to sit down for a little bit.”

“Don’t be stupid. Stay as long as you want,” Jeongguk says, smiling over at you.

Resting the broom against the wall, Yoongi dusts off his hands on his apron, grabbing a bottle of water before Jeongguk can lock the fridge and walking over to you, setting the bottle down on the table in front of you.

“Oh. Thanks, Yoongi,” you say, sitting up properly and reaching for it.

“No problem. Figured this’d be better than a coffee.”

“Yeah. I considered cutting out coffee altogether, but I’m not sure I could survive this without it.”

“Taehyung says you’ve got the day off tomorrow,” Yoongi says, pulling out the chair next to you and taking a seat.

“Mmm. Thank god for that. But…” Taking a deep breath, you pause to take a sip of water, resting the bottle on your knee, leaving a ring of condensation on your pants. “I don’t really sleep that much so I don’t know what I’ll do the whole day.”

“Something as far away from hospital work as possible, please,” Yoongi chuckles; you smile in agreement.

“Hey, hyung. Isn’t it your day off tomorrow as well?” Jeongguk calls out from behind the counter, holding bags of coffee beans in each arm. He flashes a knowing look to Yoongi, discreetly nodding his head in your direction.

“It is, Jeongguk. Thanks for reminding me,” Yoongi replies, trying not to clench his teeth and strain his voice.

“Which hyung is coming in tomorrow to make the coffees then?”

“Well, I dunno, Jeongguk. Maybe you should check the roster in the back.”

“Right, yeah.” Yoongi all but glares in the younger’s direction when Jeongguk sends him a wink and a grin before disappearing into the storeroom.

“You have the day off too?” you ask, oblivious to the silent conversation that’d just taken place between them both, distractedly picking at the label on the water bottle. “Nice. What’re you gonna do with twenty-four hours of freedom?”

“Dunno. Might sleep for about half that time, eat something, and probably spend the rest of the day chillin’ with my bae.”

You arch an eyebrow, the lip of the bottle inches away from your lips.

“Your bae?” you repeat.

“My piano,” Yoongi chuckles. “That’s the closest I’m gonna get to a relationship anytime soon, I think.”

“Oh.” You find yourself chuckling, and somewhat confused by the relief that’s washing over you. “Cute.”

“It’s not, really.” He reaches up and ruffles his hair, locks of faded pink moving in all directions. “I mean, how many grown men do you know call a musical instrument their first love?”

“Well, I dunno about instruments, but Taehyung has this elephant plush toy that he swears convinced him that love at first sight exists back when he was six.” Yoongi snorts and shakes his head.

The both of you watch silently as Jeongguk rounds the counter and makes his way around the floor, wiping down the tables before stacking the chairs on top of them. As he makes his way closer to your table, it dawns on you that you’ll need to stand and, eventually, leave the cafe to let them finish cleaning up.

“Hey.” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the quiet, and you turn away from Jeongguk to look at him. “Um, are you done for today?”

“Yeah,” you answer. “I finished kinda early actually. I’m just killing the next five minutes so I can clock off.” You pick at the label on the bottle again, biting the inside of your cheek, mustering up the courage to ask, “why?”

“I, uh… I was wondering if… you wanted to grab some dinner. Tonight.”

“Dinner?”

“Yeah, just… I figured, since we both have the day off tomorrow, we could have dinner tonight and not have to worry about going home early because of work the next day or… whatever.” Realising what he’d said, Yoongi turns to you, eyes wide. “Oh God. That came out wrong. I-I don’t mean—”

You throw your head back and laugh, drawing Jeongguk’s attention to the both of you; Jeongguk laughs quietly to himself, watching Yoongi drag his hand down his face and ruffle his hair again.

“No, yeah, I…” You drag your knuckle against the corner of your eye. “I’d like that. Taehyung’s going out on another date with Jeongguk tonight, so… yeah. It beats another night in the apartment on my own eating instant noodles and crying over some lame anime that I never really wanted to watch in the first place.”

“Taehyung?”

“Yeah.”

“Amazing. Jeongguk is the exact same.”

“Well. If you’re ever in the mood to switch roommates… you know who to call first.”

You and Yoongi laugh quietly, letting it trail off naturally as Jeongguk approaches the table, hands planted on the remaining free chair.

“I hate to interrupt,” he says, grinning. “But we’re closing now, miss. I’m afraid you’ll have to vacate the premises.” Snorting and rolling your eyes, you stand, fingers wrapped around your bottle of water.

“Right. Oh, uh, before I forget, Taehyung said something about meeting up at some dog cafe instead of the apartment for you guys’ date tonight. I think he’s gonna text you the address later.” Jeongguk sighs wistfully.

“A dog cafe. A man after my own heart.”

“Eww,” you and Yoongi say simultaneously.

“Shut up.”

“I’m gonna go clock off,” you say, shaking your head at Jeongguk before looking at Yoongi. “I’ll, uh, meet you outside?”

“Sounds good. Give me, like, twenty minutes to finish up here and I’ll catch up with you,” Yoongi replies, nodding his head.

True to his word, Yoongi steps out of the hospital twenty minutes later — eighteen, to be exact; but who’s counting? — stained black apron replaced with an olive green bomber jacket, one strap of his bag slung over his shoulder. In a similar fashion, you’ve forgone your white coat for a sweater and scarf, tucking your phone into the pocket of your jeans as you wave your hand to catch his attention.

“I forgot to ask earlier,” Yoongi says. “Did you have a ride, or…”

“Oh. Oh. Crap, no I don’t,” you say, expression falling. “Me and Tae usually come together, but he’s taking the car for his date with Jeongguk tonight. Shit. I didn’t think of that.”

“That’s fine. You can catch a ride with me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, just, uh…” Yoongi’s eyes shift left and right warily as he scratches the top of his head and clears his throat.

“What?” you ask, a little confused.

“Just… here. I’ll show you.”

Following behind him, he leads you to the carpark, weaving through the different lanes to eventually stop at the back of the lot.

“This okay?”

For a moment, you stand there, speechless, looking with wide eyes at the slightly scuffed black leather seat, and worn tires of Yoongi’s…

“Motorbike,” you say, eloquent as ever.

“Yeah. Uh, I just remembered what I came to work in when I was grabbing my stuff out of my locker.” He clears his throat again, reaching into his bag to pull out his helmet. “If you don’t wanna ride, it’s totally chill, _____. I can call Jeongguk, get him to ride this home, and we can catch a taxi or something.”

“No, this… this is fine,” you say with a soft exasperated chuckle to your words.

“Have you ever been on a bike before?” You shake your head. “Oh. Well. Um.”

“There’s a first for everything though, right? I can handle some early morning trauma in A&E. How bad could a bike ride be?”

Yoongi chuckles quietly, and nods in agreement, lifting the seat of his motorbike to pull out a spare helmet to hand to you, shoving his bag in roughly before shutting the seat.

“You’re, uh… gonna have to keep your bag on. The seat’s not big enough for all our stuff, unfortunately.”

“That’s alright.”

“Sorry. I didn’t really think things through before asking you out to dinner tonight,” Yoongi says, biting on his lip nervously.

“Don’t worry about it,” you laugh. “I prefer spontaneity anyways.”

“Yeah? I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” he mutters.

“Next time?”

Yoongi clears his throat yet again, looking away from you to pat down his jacket and jeans in search of his keys and preoccupying himself with anything that isn’t related to looking you right in the face. You grin and busy yourself with undoing the buckle of the spare helmet in your hands.

“W-what do you feel like eating?” Yoongi asks you, sliding his helmet on and hoisting his leg over the bike to straddle it, inserting the key into the ignition without turning the bike on just yet. You shrug in reply, resting the spare helmet on the back of the bike to free up your hands and tie your hair back.

“Whatever you feel like. I’m not a fussy eater like Tae,” you say, words mumbled around your hairtie held between your teeth. Yoongi leans a little towards you, pointing to the side of his helmet to indicate that he can’t hear you properly. You reply with a, “anywhere’s fine,” raising your voice a little more. He nods in acknowledgement and turns the key.

The motorbike roars to life and you flinch a little at the sound. You don’t hear Yoongi’s chuckle, but you see the way his shoulders shake slightly in amusement before you’re sliding the helmet onto your head. Holding his shoulder, you swing your leg over the bike to sit down behind him, his hand coming up to hold onto your wrist when he feels you wobble slightly.

“_____!” he calls out.

“Yeah?”

“You, uh, you need to hold on.”

“What?” you ask, leaning forward to hear him better, the front of your helmet knocking against the back of his. Instead of raising his voice and repeating himself, however, he reaches behind to find your arms, guiding them until they’re wrapped around his waist. He gives your wrists a gentle squeeze, and you take the cue to hold on — tight. Yoongi throws you a thumbs up over his shoulder; you reply with a nod.

You gasp, barely audible, when Yoongi revs the engine, grasp instantly tightening when he kicks off the ground and starts to move, fingers holding onto his jacket.

Behind his helmet, Yoongi smiles at the warmth of your chest against his back, and the almost-death grip around his waist.

“You okay?” Yoongi asks as he helps you off the motorbike, trying not to grin at the way you let out a sigh of relief when your feet touch the ground. You hum and nod your head in reply, undoing the buckle beneath your chin and pulling the helmet off, yanking out your hairtie to fix your hair.

“That was… new,” you say, pausing when Yoongi reaches up to fix a lock of your hair. “But I could get used to that. Maybe. Hopefully.”

He laughs a little, taking the helmet from your hands to put it back under the seat after pulling his bag out, shoving his own helmet into it.

“I hope you’re not a vegetarian.”

You stop fixing your hair for a moment to turn and look up at the neon lights of the restaurant signage, taking a deep breath in and exhaling with a happy hum as the smell of grilling meat hits you immediately.

“I am most definitely not a vegetarian,” you reply, grinning.

“This is my brother’s restaurant,” he explains, leading you inside, the scent of cooked meats and vegetables increasing tenfold as soon as you’ve stepped through the doors. “As if it isn’t bad enough that I’m on my feet all day, every time he sees me walk in, he gets me to work in exchange for free food. I’m hoping with you here that doesn’t happen.”

“No family benefits?”

“Well, you’d think I’d get some, right?”

“Well, well. Good evening, young master. Come to pay your debts?”

The both of you turn to come face to face with a man wiping his hands on a towel, hair a dull shade of blue, multiple piercings on both ears, and a cheeky grin painted on his lips.

“Nope. I have a ‘get out of jail free’ card tonight, hyung,” Yoongi answers, wiggling his eyebrows. “This is _____.” The man’s eyes shifts to you before shifting back to Yoongi, slightly narrowed.

“You win this time, you brat. But you’ll be on dishes next time. Your usual table’s free.”

Yoongi groans, but you can see him holding back a smile as he leads you over to the back corner of the restaurant after you bow your head politely.

“That… was your brother?” you ask, taking a seat and dropping your bag down beside you.

“Yeah, that was Yoonjae hyung,” Yoongi replies, following suit. “I’m actually surprised he’s only gonna put me on dishes.”

“Is that bad?”

“Nah. Bad is toilet duties. Have you ever cleaned a toilet after midnight after a busy day in a barbecue restaurant? The things I’ve seen in there could probably rival the things you see in A&E.” You snort.

“That’s a stretch.”

“Okay, yeah. True. But you know what I mean.”

Shaking your head, you laugh as you reach for the menu beside you, eyes scanning the various cuts of meat and side dishes on offer. Everything looks amazing and enticing, and you’re salivating before the grill’s even been ignited.

“So. What’ll it be, kids?” Yoonjae asks, approaching the table with a small notepad in his hand, grabbing his pen from where it’s tucked behind his ear.

“I’ll have the usual,” Yoongi answers. “I dunno what _____ wants.”

“What’s ‘the usual’?” you ask.

“A serve of dumplings, some steak, pork belly, kimchi hot pot, and rice.”

“That’s all for one person?”

“It’s supposed to be for two, but I mean, I don’t know when I’m gonna be eating next, so… while I’m here…”

“Interesting. I’ll get the same.”

Yoonjae stops writing to look at you, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You know what?” he says, tucking his pen back behind his ear. “I like you already.”

“I hope that means I get to avoid doing the dishes with Yoongi,” you laugh.

“We’ll see.”

“Wait. What?”

“Hold up. Wait. Jimin, come back.”

“What’s up, hyung?” the waiter asks, his tray tucked under his arm.

“We didn’t order this,” Yoongi says, pointing to the basket of fried chicken.

“Oh, I know. But Yoonjae hyung said to bring it over to you guys. He said something about wanting to see if you and your new girlfriend can finish everything.” You feel your mouthful of soup start to trickle down the wrong pipe, and you drop your spoon and cover your mouth, trying not to cough too loud, because girlfriend? The waiter, however, seems to be unphased. “I’m Jimin by the way! Family friend of the Mins.”

“I’m…” You pause to clear your throat a few times, hand pressed to your chest. “I’m _____.”

“Nice to meet you!”

“Jimin? Can you leave so we can eat?” Yoongi says, jaw clenched as he glares in the waiter’s direction.

“Right! Yeah, sure. Just yell out if you guys need anything.”

You watch as Jimin walks off to tend to another table with a friendly smile, seemingly completely unaware of how confused you are, and of how mortified Yoongi is.

“Sorry about him,” Yoongi says quietly, quick to shove a spoonful of rice into his mouth.

“He’s very… cheery,” you say, chuckling a little as you turn your attention back to the food. “Like, very cheery.”

“I know. I swear nothing gets that brat down.” He reaches for the tongs, flipping the meat on the grill. “I mean, he’s a cool kid, but damn.”

“Yoongi. Eat that last one.”

“I would if I could, but, _____, I can’t. You have it.”

With a groan, you sit up again, elbows resting on the table as you stare down the last chicken wing in the basket. You pick it up, but hesitate to bring it to your mouth. Across the table, Yoongi lifts his hand and curls his fingers into a loose fist, pumping it in the air weakly in encouragement. Taking a deep breath, you curse quietly before taking a bite.

It takes you a ridiculously long time to finish off the last chicken wing, and when you drop the bones onto your plate, you are well and truly done.

“Well. Consider me impressed,” Yoonjae says, taking a chair from a nearby table to sit with you both. “You have officially avoided dish duty.”

“What about me, hyung?” Yoongi asks.

“I haven’t decided about you yet.” Yoongi sighs and leans back in his seat. “So. _____, right? What do you do?”

“I’m, uh, I’m a med student. I’m interning at the hospital at the moment,” you reply, reaching for your glass of water.

“Holy shit. You’re a doctor?”

“I’m not a doctor yet.”

“Yet,” Yoonjae repeats, laughing. “Which part of the hospital do you work in?”

“Accident and emergency.”

“Damn. That must be full on.”

“You’re tellin’ me.”

“How’d you score an almost-doctor, you brat?” Yoonjae asks, grinning as he reaches over to punch Yoongi’s arm. Yoongi flinches and groans, rubbing his bicep.

“We work at the same hospital, hyung,” he mumbles, frowning.

“Oh, right! Yeah. Barista. How’s that gig going, by the way?”

“Same as always I guess. I have yet to hear any juicy stories from _____ over here.” You snort, reaching for your glass of water to take a sip. “You’d think working in A&E she’d have a million and one stories to tell me while I make her morning coffee. But, nope. Not a damn one, hyung.”

“What a fucking shame,” Yoonjae sighs, shaking his head. “I’m so disappointed in you, _____.”

“Disappointed enough to put her on dishes with me, hyung?”

“Hey!” you cry out, chuckling a little.

“Nah, I can’t put her on dishes, man. She might have to save your ass one day after you fall off that   goddamn bike of yours. Seriously, Yoongi. When’re you gonna get rid of that thing? I swear to God, mom has a heart attack every time you roll up for lunch on Sunday.”

“That’s like asking me to give away my own child. How dare you, hyung?”

Yoonjae rolls his eyes and stands, putting the chair back to its original table before resting his hand on your shoulder consolingly.

“I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, _____.”

After dinner, Yoongi decides to leave his bike parked at his brother’s restaurant for a little while in favour of walking around the area with you aimlessly, walking down streets and alleyways as conversation bounces from favourite classical composers all the way down to basketball dream teams. Yoongi laughs as you tell him about the time Taehyung broke his arm after falling off his bicycle when he was distracted by your neighbour’s new puppy, and you almost trip over your own foot when you’re busy wiping your eyes after Yoongi tells you about the day he’d almost walked in on his parents have sex, only saved by his brother who’d pulled him away from the door and forced him back into his room.

The both of you eventually end up at a small cafe, wedged in between a karaoke bar and another barbecue restaurant. It’s warm inside, and you’re instantly hit with the smell of freshly ground coffee as soon as you step in, unwrapping the scarf around your neck.

The cashier greets you both as you step up to the counter, giving you both a moment to decide on your orders.

“I’ll have a latte, thank you,” you say, reaching into your bag for your wallet. Yoongi grabs your wrist and stops you, pulling out his money instead, saying, “and I’ll take an Americano.”

“Would you like something to eat? We have a coffee and cake special tonight,” the cashier says. Yoongi lets go of your wrist, and nods his head towards the display cabinet.

“Pick something.”

“Wh— not if you’re paying for me,” you reply, frowning.

“_____, pick something,” he chuckles. You furrow your eyebrows, but you turn eventually, realising there’s no way you’re winning tonight.

“Fine. I’ll have a slice of the strawberry cheesecake then.”

Yoongi nods towards the tables, telling you to take a seat as he finishes ordering everything. You obey, albeit a little reluctantly, taking a seat at a table in the far corner of the cafe, putting your bag down by your feet just as Yoongi joins you.

“You didn’t have to pay for me,” you say, trying not to whine (but probably failing miserably).

“I wanted to though,” he replies, just chuckling. “I was the one that dragged you out tonight.”

“It’s not like you forced me out though. I wanted to come. Better than cup noodles and anime any day.”

“_____. Seriously. It’s fine.” You frown, but lean back in your seat comfortably. “I’ll just pick up an extra shift during the week to make up for what I’ve lost tonight.”

“Yoongi!” you whine; he laughs, clapping his hands once at the expression on your face.

“I’m kidding!” He grins, watching as you huff and cross your arms over your chest. “I’ll only need to pick up half a shift, I think.”

“What made you decide to study medicine?” Yoongi asks, taking a sip of his coffee.

“My grandpa, actually,” you say, eating a bite of cheesecake. “I was pretty much raised by my grandparents because my parents were always working. He always dreamed of becoming a doctor.”

“He didn’t get to be one?” You shake your head.

“I’m from a family of lawyers. I think everyone all the way back to my great-great grandparents has been a lawyer. My grandpa used to be a judge before he retired, but he always talked about how much he wished he’d become a doctor instead. My bedtime stories were medical discoveries and all these tales of doctors doing the impossible. He’s so excited that there’s finally gonna be a doctor in the family that he’s paying for my tuition completely.”

“Wow. A family of rich super nerds. I shouldn’t be surprised.” You snort quietly. “And Taehyung? Is he from a family of rich super nerds too?”

“Nah. But Tae’s always known he’s gonna either work with kids or animals. His little brother had his tonsils out when we were in our sophomore year, and he was so inspired by the whole ordeal that he decided to try out for med school with me. And, uh, I guess, here we are.”

“Interesting.”

“How about you?” you ask, bringing your cup closer to your lips. “Have you always dreamed of being a barista?”

“Oh, hell yeah. I’m working my dream job, for sure. I couldn’t have asked for more,” Yoongi replies, grinning, voice dripping with sarcasm that you have to put your coffee back down before you spill it everywhere as you laugh. “Nah, this is just a temporary thing — hopefully.”

“What do you want to be, Yoongi?” you ask, leaning forward, propping your elbow up on the table and resting your chin in your hand.

“I wanna be a producer. Or songwriter. Or both. Any of those options is fine by me. I do a few gigs down at Club Cream in Hongdae here and there with a few of my friends.”

“You sing?!”

“Rap. Like hell you’ll ever catch me singing.”

“Wow. I mean, thinking about it, it actually kinda suits you. But I would’ve never guessed that about you,” you reply, leaning back in your seat.

“Why?” Yoongi asks, eyebrow arched in amusement. “What do I look like I’d be into?”

You narrow your eyes, looking at him with exaggerated curiosity.

“I dunno. Carpentry?” Yoongi snorts — loudly. “You look like you’ve got a carpenter’s hands.”

“That’s a first. Never gotten that one before.”

“Why? What do you usually get?”

“I’ve gotten computer nerd, professional gamer, Seven-Eleven dude… fortune cookie writer…”

“Fortune cookie writer?” you repeat, laughing loudly.

“Yeah, that was Jeongguk,” Yoongi says, shaking his head. “Apparently I seem like the kind of guy that would be good at writing fortunes.”

“Oh yeah? Let’s hear some bomb-ass fortunes then, O Wise One.”

“Hold on.” You watch over your cup of coffee as Yoongi presses his fingers to his temples, shutting his eyes tightly in concentration. “Oh, here’s one. Don’t eat the paper. Also, your lucky numbers are: one, five, sixteen, twenty seven, and thirty. Pretty good, huh?”

“So. Where to now?” Yoongi asks, tugging his jacket back on.

“I dunno,” you say, shrugging. “But I’m down for whatever, because I’m not looking to go home to see Taehyung and Jeongguk doing something I could’ve gone my entire life without seeing.”

“To be fair, they could be doing that at my place too.”

“Well. We’re screwed, I guess.”

“Hold on,” he chuckles, pulling his phone out. You watch as Yoongi taps away, pauses, then taps again, until eventually, he concludes, “they’re at yours, and Jeongguk has no idea when they’ll be ‘finished’. God. Does he have to say it like that?”

“I’d rather work a double shift at A&E than go there,” you say, wincing.

“We can go back to mine if you want. Wait, that… that wasn’t me trying to get you to do, um, something, by the way.” You throw your head back and laugh.

“Sounds good, Yoongi. Surely being a med intern means that if I can revive a man, I also know how to kill him.”

“Sounds fair. Let’s go.”

“Ooh. Okay. Now I see why you call this your first love,” you say, fingers skirting along ivory keys and polished wood. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi says, wistful. “It took an arm and a leg to get it in here, but I’m never getting rid of it. They can take all my furniture away and force me to sleep on the floor for all I care.” You chuckle quietly. “Jeongguk… Jeongguk told me that Taehyung said you play.”

“I do,” you answer. “Not as often these days though, now that I’m an intern. Mostly at church now, or if we’re having a family lunch at grandpa’s and I need to entertain the younger cousins, you know?”

“Play something.” You look at Yoongi, hesitant; he smiles back in reply.

“Al… alright.” You put your bag down by the sofa, slipping off your scarf, before walking back to the piano, the leather of the chair groaning quietly as you sit down. “Any requests?” Yoongi shrugs.

“Something you like playing,” he suggests.

Poised fingers rest on the ivory keys of the piano as you think for a moment before you start to play anything, the small apartment eventually filling with quiet music, the smooth crooning of Chopin taking over the sounds of the traffic outside. Behind you, Yoongi sits down on the edge of the sofa, watching you play with awe, marvelling at the way you seem so at ease and carefree as you play the piece flawlessly.

The music ends too soon for his liking.

“Wow,” he whispers, lips parted.

“Just a little something,” you reply, shrugging, trying not to blush. “You play something.”

“Oh, I… I don’t know anything classical,” Yoongi says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“That’s okay. Anything’ll do, Yoongi.”

You shuffle down aside to make room for him on the other side of the seat, patting the space next to you. He takes up the offer, though he walks over with cautious steps, clearing his throat.

Yoongi starts to play, filling the room with something a little heavier than Chopin, and you’re taken aback for a moment, just watching the way his fingers move along the keys like water. You don’t know what compels you to bring your hands back up from your lap to start playing with him, making the tune up along as you go, but it’s amazing, beautiful even, that you both find yourselves smiling.

You withdraw your hands, and let Yoongi finish off the song on his own, letting the apartment fall into a comfortable silence.

“Shit,” he eventually says, sighing before he chuckles. “I wish I recorded that.”

[theperksofbeingawallflwer-blog]

How about Breakeven by The Script?

hi hello im sorry this took so long but I was like brainstorming and didn’t know how I was gonna write this haha (also ily and thank you 💕💕)

pairing: stenbroughwarnings: crying, heartbreak, iTS SUPER LONG AND SADalso they’re like 18 or 19 in this okayyy

“You’re here alone today?” The waitress asks as she approaches the booth Bill is sitting at. She places a napkin and some silverware down on the table and pulls out her notepad and pen as she waits for a response from the boy.

But Bill is far far away from Linda’s Diner. In his mind, he’s back in his and Stan’s apartment - he’s gone back to that night. He can’t help but go back and remember all of the hurtful words that were thrown each other’s way, the way Stan just kept yelling and yelling and Bill just stood there crying and trying to make sense of it all. Bill was shaking and trying to breath normally and Stan was so fucking angry and trying not to cry.

The fight started because every night for four weeks straight, Stan would come home late, claiming he was studying for classes with a friend or at a study group and it ran late. Bill would always act like he believed Stan, but deep down he knew something else was going on. So Bill confronted his boyfriend about it.

And the fight happened.

“Kid,” the waitress said again, noticing Bill was out of it. She sighed and began snapping her fingers in front of his face. “Hey, kid. Wake up.”

Bill blinked, looking up at the waitress with short dark hair and almost too much makeup. He tried to smile.

“Sorry,” he said.

“So,” she said, nodding. “I see you’re here alone today. You’re usually with that other boy with the curly hair.”

Bill felt his heart jump because he knew she was talking about Stan. He wanted to cry then, but he honestly felt as if he’s cried all his tears away already and there’s nothing left.

He just shrugged, not really knowing how to respond to the waitress’s words.

“What happened to him?”

The waitress was prying and Bill was starting to get annoyed by it. He didn’t want to talk about Stan. He hated even thinking about him, but he does so every second of every day.

“Can I just have… can I just order, please?” Bill sighed, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. His eyes burn and they’ve been red with dark circles under them for days now, basically weeks. It’s been weeks.

The waitress stared at him for a second before nodding and looking down at her notepad, the pen hovering above the paper.

Bill ordered his food and gave the waitress the menu before she left.

He slumped back down into his seat and began fiddling with the napkin dispenser next to him. He zoned out again.

And then he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Mind if I join?” He turned around and saw Beverly Marsh standing there, short hair wild as always and smile wide and dazzling.

“Bev?” Is all Bill could say, confused. He was happy she was there, though. He didn’t like being alone.

“I’ll take that as a ‘oh I don’t mind Beverly’,” she said, letting out a small laugh. She walked around to take a seat in front of Bill on the other side of the table, sliding into the booth.

“How did you know I was here,” he asked her.

“Mike told me,” she shrugged.

Mike’s been staying with Bill at his apartment since Stan moved out. Bill told his friends he’d be find staying in the apartment alone, but they knew that was bullshit. So Mike volunteered to stay with him for a couple of weeks, being that he’s a super supportive friend who cares so much about the ones he love.

So whenever Bill has a breakdown or wants to get drunk and call Stan, Mike is there to hold him and calm him down and stop him from doing something stupid.

And Beverly comes over occasionally to check up on him. She hasn’t been able to do so lately because of school and work, so she decided to drop by the apartment to hang out with Bill and Mike, only to see that the latter was the only one there. Mike told her Bill had had another breakdown and left to clear his mind. There’s only one place he’d go. He told Beverly Bill was at Linda’s Diner.

“You didn’t have to-”

“Hush,” Bev said, shaking her head. “I’m not letting have lunch alone. Plus, I really want a strawberry milkshake.”

That made Bill smile a little, his eyes falling down to his hands that are now resting on the table in front of him. He’s been biting his nails a lot lately and they look fucking terrible.

“I guess Mike also told you I had a really bad breakdown this morning,” he said, not looking up.

“Yeah,” Bev said. “He said it was pretty bad. Are you feeling any better?”

Bill didn’t say anything to that, he just shrugged.

“I understand,” she said reaching over the table and taking ahold of one of Bill’s hands.

It was quiet for a minute after that, Bev rubbing the pad of her thumb over Bill’s knuckles, trying to comfort him. Bill just kept his eyes on the table, feeling numb.

“How is he?” He asked.

“What?” Bev’s eyes went kind of wide then.

Bill finally looked up at her and he pulled his hand away from hers, shoving both his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

“How’s… how is Stanley?” He asked again, his tummy going fuzzy as he said the boy’s name. “I know you’ve been hanging out with him and everyone else too.”

Bev sighed, pursing her lips. She didn’t want to make her friend any more upset than he already is. But she also didn’t want to lie to him.

“He’s… he’s been doing good,” she said, nodding. “He’s uh-”

“Still with that one guy?” Bill butted in.

Bev’s heart sunk at the look of brokenness on Bill’s face. She hated it.

Bill was talking about the guy Stan was cheating on him with. No one knew his name, Stan never told anyone his name. But everyone besides Bill knew the guy was a total dick, being that everyone but Bill has met him.

“We all hate the guy he’s with,” Bev said. “He’s really nothing special. He’s not nice. He’s a real douche bag.”

That was supposed to make Bill feel better, but it didn’t. It just made him wonder if Stan stopped liking Bill because he was too nice.

“Does he look happier than he did with me?” Bill asked quietly, and towards the end of his sentence, his voice broke. He wanted to cry but he couldn’t. Not in public.

“He… he-”

“Nevermind,” Bill shakes his head. “I don’t wanna know.”

Moments later, the mattress brings Bill’s food and Bev orders herself a strawberry milkshake.

“Want half my burger and some of my fries?” He asks Bev, a small smile on his face. “I don’t think I can eat it all on my own.”

They share Bill’s burger and fries and Bev’s milkshake comes and they share that as well. And when it’s over, Bill says he’ll pay for Bev’s milkshake, which she says no to, but he does so anyway.

The Waitress give them mints and wish them a safe trip home and a good day as they’re leaving.

It’s freezing outside and Beverly asks Bill how he got to the diner.

“I - um - I walked,” he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

“You fucking walked here?!” Bev yells. “It’s freezing out here, Bill!”

“I’m fine-”

“I’m taking you home.”

The ride to Bill’s apartment in Bev’s car isn’t quiet or silent at all. She plays The Goo Goo Dolls and U2 and they both sing along to all the songs and laugh when they forget the lyrics. Bev makes sounds with her mouth to try and replicate a guitar and Bill does the same with the drums while he pretends to actually play them.

They make it to his apartment and as Bev’s parking, Bill notices a car parked beside his. Stan’s car. He can’t stop staring at it.

“You getting out or what?” Bev asks, looking over at Bill as she began to get out of the car. She realizes Bill is staring at something and so she follows his gaze and when she sees what he’s looking at, her immediate reaction is to get back in the car and close the door.

“What is he doing here?” Bill asked quietly, not tearing his eyes away from Stan.

“I don’t know,” Bev said, her voice just as quiet.

They both sit there for a few more moments until Stan drives away, his car coming towards them.

As his car gets closer, Bill sees another figure in the car. Stan’s new boyfriend.

Bill turns away as the car passes him and Bev, not being able to look either of them in the eyes.

And when they’re gone and Bev turns to ask if he’s okay, he finally let the tears fall and sobs are set free.

Bill’s heart is fucking broken and he can’t see any of this getting better soon.

was this okay??? it’s super long soz haha

[myself-and-the-marauders]

Train Rides: Young!James Potter x Reader *Smut*

A/N: Okay, so, this wasn’t suppose to go out until after ‘Wait For Me’ part two, but I’m like, physically and mentally not able to write that right now, and I don’t know why, so I just decided to finish this. Oh and also, I decided to post this tonight instead of tomorrow cause it was basically done, ops. 

If you didn’t read the title, this is a smut, this is also my first attempt at writing smut so, it may not be fantastic. I apologize if it doesn’t go into great detail or anything, like I said, I’m new to writing smut so this was really awkward for me to write, but I had to start somewhere, soz.

As smuts go, please do not read this if you’re uncomfortable with sexual situations, it’s tots fine to skip out on this one, my dude. 

Anyway, Enjoy! ♥

Word Count: 1504

Warnings: Mild Smut, Fluff(ish)

A field of blurred shapes and colors filled my vision as I lied my head again the glass of the window. The only thing there was to look at was an endless stretch of grass, littered with a couple trees as it flew past my eyes. The bright sun reflected against the water, causing my eyes to burn.

Spacing out, I traced my fingers in a figure eight against the chilled glass, oblivious to anything going on around me. As my eyes followed the pattern of my fingers, I felt a light tap on my shoulder. Blinking a couple times, I let my hand fall from the glass and then slowly turned my head to the right, making eye contact with a pair of beautiful brown orbs.

Giving me a dorky grin, he clasped his hands in front of him. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Bored." I said through a yawn while turning my body in James' direction."How long has he been passed out?" I giggled, cocking my head at Sirius who lied pass out against the booth seat.

"Damn near the entire ride," he laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Must be a dog thing."

"Must be," I said through laughter as I watched Sirius' eyebrows bunch together in the center of his face.

After a few seconds, our laughter had died down and the train car once again fell into silence. Looking around the car, everyone but James and I were sleeping soundly, looking as comfortable as could be.

Not knowing what to do, I began tapping my thighs with my thumbs. Shifting my eyes back to window, I felt small pricks of nerves start to build in the pit of my stomach as I became fully aware of his presence beside me.

As if confirming my anxiousness, two warm hands placed themselves on my hips and pulled me back, right into his lap.

After getting comfortable, he wrapped his arms around my waist and brought his lips to my ear. "You're ignoring me." He whispered, dragging his tongue on the outer ring of my ear. "Why are you ignoring me, love?"

The way the words left his mouth so smoothly sent my body melting into his. "I-I'm not." I whispered awkwardly, he knew just how much of a reaction I had when he did this, why is he choosing to do it now?

Nuzzling his face into my neck, he sunk his teeth into the soft flesh that connected my neck to my shoulder and ran the tip of his tongue over it. "Yes you are."

A small whimper left my mouth as I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. "J-James we c-can't do this here." Contrary to my words, my fingers made their way to his hair and tangled themselves in his messy locks.

Responding with a low groan, James ran his tongue over the bite once more before moving his lips up my neck and next to my ear, leaving small pecks along his way.

"You say that..." he started, snickering, "but then you do things like that." His husky voice whispered in my ear, lightly blowing air into it. "Are you absolutely sure you don't want to...?" His voice teased me as his right hand dropped down to my thigh.

I had nothing to say at this point. His tongue continuously lapped over my neck as his hand ever so lightly pried my thighs apart. Taking this moment to tease me further, his fingers traced small circles on my inner thighs, right below my core.

"J-James..." I whimpered, bitting the inside of my cheek to stop myself from getting any louder.

"Hmm?" He hummed, letting his fingers trail  dangerously close to my center.

"W-what if someone notices us?" My words were dragging together now. The fact there there were three other people in the car that could see us slowly drifted from my mind.

"We can stop..." James chuckled in my ear, knowing clearly that I'm not in any state for him to stop.

Not taking his eyes off me, James cupped the spot between my thighs and gently ran the tips of his fingers over the fabric that covered it. I was already an absolute mess and this made it worse, I had basically become putty in his hands.

"And you say you don't want this..." he chuckled as I leaned further and further into his hand.

"James please..." I whined, my grip on his hair tightening. At the point I was at, I couldn't care less if someone saw us, I just needed him.

Nodding to himself, he removed his hand from it's spot between my legs, only to sink it underneath my jeans. Taking his time, he slowly traced his cold fingertips over the waist band of my panties, making my body jolt slightly.

"James..." It was as if I couldn't say anything else, I needed some sort of contact from him and he wasn't complying. "Please..." I whined, turning my face to bury it into his chest.

"Patience, love." He whispered, letting out a small tut of laughter as he let his fingers travel lower.

Ever so lightly, he let his fingers graze my clit, making my body jump into his. The smallest of whimpers left my mouth as I bit my wrist, knowing if I was any louder we'd get caught.

"Here you are, complaining to me about how this is wrong, yet..." Bringing his left hand up, he ran it through his hair a dragged it down his face, letting out what seemed like a growl. "Merlin...you're so wet right now."

At this comment, he quickened his pace, flicking one finger over the small bus of nerves while another teased my entrance, causing my head to dig into his chest. Going further, his fingers stopping his previous flicking motion and began to press down, making slow circle over my already throbbing clit.

My mind was basically screaming, threatening to be let out. Trying to find something to clutch onto, my fingernails dug into his left arm that held my waist, evoking another low groan that only intensified my pleasure. "Oh my god, James." I moaned, as I bit my lip.

"Shh." James whispered in my ear as he bit down on the thin flesh. "Wouldn't want to wake them, now would you?" No sooner than when he finished that statement, he harshly pushed two fingers past my entrance.

"I-" My back arched against him at the realization, making my mouth fall open into a silent moan as my head fell back onto his shoulder.

Beginning to slowly push deeper, I could feel the coil rapidly begin to unwind in my stomach, I didn't have much longer.

Returning his mouth back to my neck, he began sucking on the opposite side he had before while relentlessly pushing his fingers further, grazing the spot that only he could find deep within me.

"C'mon..." His husky voice whispered in my ear, begging me to let go. "I can feel how close you are." The vibration of his voice sent me into utter bliss, making my toes curl. My mouth fell open into another silent moan as I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Almost there, baby..." James' voice whispered in my ear as his fingers dug even further. "Just let go."

Circling his thumb one last time, my body was sent over the edge. My teeth sharply dug into my lip to stop myself from moaning as I stiffened in his arms.

"There you go...did so well for me." James whispered in my ear, slowing the pace of his fingers until they gradually stopped. "So, so well."

Laying on him, I took a couple deep breaths, trying desperately to even them. After a couple minutes of utter silence, my eyes hesitantly opened, resting on the face that hung in front of mine. I could feel the flush gradually come back to my face as I watched his eyes narrow, a small smirk growing at the corner of his mouth.

"So..."He trailed off, running his hands over my sensitive thighs.

"No." I breathed out, knowing exactly what he was going to say.

"Fine, you'd better be prepared for tonight then." He whispered, the cocky smirk still plastered on his face as gently pushed me off his lap. "On a different note..." His voice trailed off as he gestured to boys who lied passed out in front of us.

"Yeah..." I watched their bodies slow rise and fall with the shallow breaths they were taking. "How the hell have they been sleeping this entire time...?"

"Suppose they don't enjoy train rides..." James' trailed off before slowly turning his head in my direction, another smirk forming on his lips. "Though...I believe you quite enjoy them, don't you?"

"I hate you." Was the only thing that I could come with as I turned my head away from him, causing loud laughter to fill the car.

"Don-don't worry love, I quite enjoy them too." He managed to speak through his laughter.

"Oh, I'm sure you do, James. I'm sure you do..."

[phanwritings]

Prayin’

Tittle: Prayin'

Word Count: 6.3K

Description: Dan was a seventeen year old boy with religious parents and a crush on his best friend.

Warnings/Triggers: Being caught, being outed, unsupportive parents, being kicked out, themes of homophobia. (There is a happy ending though!)

A/N: I've spent the past three days writing this, I hope you enjoy it. It has a lot of my life experiences in it. Also, I suck at endings and didn't know how to properly end it. Soz.

Read it on ao3 or wattpad if you’d like! They always get updated first btw 

*

"No, I can't be gay. They don't want me to be gay," he cried, trying to hide his face. Dan didn't want anyone to notice he was crying, even though someone was bound to. He was sat in the principal's office, his English teacher, principal, best friend and maybe boyfriend Phil, and the guidance counselor crowded around him. Dan wished they would give him some space.

Him and Phil had gotten caught kissing underneath the bleachers by the English teacher during 5th period, which was why they were in the office. The office normally would have called their parents but considering the fact that both of their parents were extreme Christians decided against it. The principal had then called the guidance counselor up to come and speak to them. "My parents are gonna kill me. Please don't tell them, please."

Dan tried to hide another sob, shuddering in the chair. He could feel everyone's gaze on him. It was nerve-wracking. Phil hesitantly placed his hand on Dan's back, rubbing it up and down, clearly trying to be soothing. When his parents heard he was going to be kicked out, he was sure of it.

*

WEEKS EARLIER

"Class! Please pay attention!" The teacher demanded at the front of the class. "For our new assignment we will be studying how music can affect mostly silent scenes in TV shows and movies. This will be a week long project, due this Friday, and will be a test grade. You may pick one partner, I have to approve the partnership before you start working. You will both receive the same test grade, pick wisely. You may begin."

Dan quickly glanced to Phil, knowing for certain that they would pick each other. They always did. His gaze met with Phil's and he nodded, granting Dan permission to get approval from the teacher. Dan walked up to her desk, noticing how Phil quickly moved to get a laptop from the cart. He loved how quickly they worked together.

Dan walked back to their desk, Phil now having the laptop set up. "My place tonight?" Dan asked Phil as he slid into his seat. "We can order pizza and knock this project out in a few hours. If we do it again tomorrow night we'll be done and then we can have this class period for the rest of the week to do our homework during the day."

"I love how your brain works," Phil grinned. "Let me text my mom during break, it should be fine though. We're both guys, not like we'll do anything when your parents aren't home." Phil laughed.

"Yeah," Dan gave a weak smile and tried to give a convincing laugh, probably failing dramatically.

*

"I can't believe we didn't have any homework today," Dan exclaimed as they started the walk to his house. "That's never happened before!"

Phil laughed, speeding up so he could keep up with Dan who had started to skip. "I know! We might be able to finish our project tonight, then we'd have almost the entire week free!"

"Can you imagine? We could get a start on our homework every day, or maybe read, it would be great!" You could call them both nerds but they loved to stay ahead in school. It was something important to the both of them, and probably one of the reasons they clicked so well together. They had been friends since grade school, meeting after Dan moved from across the country. It was frightening and overwhelming, to say the least.

Dan had just walked onto the playground for the first time. It was a dreadful day. Dan didn't get to start at the beginning of the school year, much less the beginning of the week. He had to be the new transfer student that joined the school on a random Wednesday in March. It was terrible and made a person realize how alone you could be.

Dan had carefully walked through the playground. He didn't really want to go down a slide - he was nine now and much too old for slides, at least that's what his brother said. He saw the start of woods at the edge of the playground. Dan tentatively walked towards one of them, sitting down on the ground. He was out of the way, no one had to talk to him, and he could be alone. It was perfect. Until a boy with ginger hair had come along.

"Hi!" The boy had said, standing in front of Dan and blocking the very little sun. It had been an rather gloomy day, something Dan appreciated. It matched his mood perfectly. "I'm Phil! You're the new kid, right?"

"No," Dan had said, sneering at the boy. "I'm the wildly popular kid, obviously." The boy, Phil, had just laughed before he sat down next to him. How could he! Dan had wanted to be alone and he had thought he made that quite clear. What other type of person sits against a tree away from everyone else?

"You're funny," Phil said. "Do you want to see my Pokemon cards? I just got some new ones yesterday! And a binder to hold them in!" Dan didn't want to admit it but he was rather curious to see his collection. He didn't have loads himself but he enjoyed trading.

"Okay," He said, standing up after Phil and following him to a picnic table. Other kids were surrounding it and Dan tried to remain calm about it.

"You'll get to meet some of my friends too, they're all very nice, I'm sure you like them," Phil assured, sitting down at one edge of the table and grabbing a navy blue binder. "The girl with the long brown hair is Louise and the girl with the short brown hair is Dodie. They're probably my best friends. And then Connor and Troye are over by that tree." He waved to the two boys that were playing ball.

"Why do you have girl best friends?" Dan asked, trying to figure out why Phil didn't say Troye and Connor were his best friends instead.

Phil just shrugged. "Why shouldn't I? They're nice and they aren't rough like some boys. Well, Connor and Troye aren't rough and noisy either. That's why I like them so much." Dan figured that this reasoning was good enough. It actually sounded pleasant to him. He hated when boys were rowdy and destroyed things. It was always better when you could just talk. Dan decided right then and there that he would give Phil and his friends a chance. Phil seemed kind enough.

Ever since that day they had all been friends. However, one thing changed. Dan was now definitely Phil's best friend and it been that way for a long while. Dan would never tell Phil this, but he was so glad that he talked to him on that day. He couldn't imagine where he would be if he didn't have Phil, and he was sure that Phil felt the same way. Dan looked at his best friend, listening to him speak about the latest video game update he had installed. Dan took in the way he kept his gaze on the pavement most of the time but occasionally flickered up to meet his, noticed how he always gave Dan a small smile. He was so lucky to have Phil in his life.

Dan could only hope that never changed.

*

"Ugh," Phil moaned from Dan's bed. "Can we please order pizza now? I am so done with this project."

"We're almost done. If we order pizza now we'll be nearly finished by the time it gets here. We could finish it and proofread after we eat. Sound good?" Dan proposed. Phil nodded glumly from his bed, an arm flung over his eyes. "Are you tired?"

Phil let out a grunt of confirmation. Dan wished he could go lie down on his bed next to Phil but figured that would be very weird and he didn't want Phil to think that Dan was acting weirdly. He couldn't notice any changes in Dan.

"Are you going to church on Wednesday? My brother is going to be leading the youth group." Dan questioned, going onto their favorite pizza website and starting to place their order. They had studied together so many times Dan knew what Phil always wanted and vice versa. It made Dan happy to know the little things about Phil, more than it did with his other friends. In fact, when it came to Phil, so many things were different about him. Dan automatically cared more about Phil when it came to anything, as terrible as that sounded. It's not that he didn't care about his other friends, it's just that he really cared about Phil. It's not like this was a bad thing, it just meant that they are close. But Dan was starting to wonder. Why hadn't he ever felt this way for anyone else before? Did that mean anything? Dan was shaken out of his thoughts by Phil responding.

"Yeah, we are. Mum doesn't want to miss your brother's first sermon. It's apparently a big deal." Phil spoke up. "I mean what is he even going to talk to us about? It's not like he knows way more than we do, he's only a few years older. Just because he's graduated with a degree from some fancy private school doesn't mean he can magically make a bunch of teenagers listen to him, no matter what they taught him."

Dan laughed, agreeing with Phil's statement. And half an hour later when the doorbell rang and Phil got up and stretched, Dan tried not to follow his shirt as it rose on his stomach. He didn't want to think about what this meant. He really, really didn't.

*

"Daniel! Time to leave!" His mother yelled up the stairs. Dan quickly slipped his shoes on and ran the stairs. He had known that if he was late his mother would get mad at him. If there was one thing that his family took seriously it was religion. Dan had been baptized when he was seven. His views on Christianity had changed as he grew older but he knew he believed in a God. It just made sense to him.

He knew Phil was kind of similar to him. He had also been raised in the religion, his parents a similar level of conservative to Dan's, which was pretty conservative. Phil had expressed his dislike of the beliefs that most of the church shared. The fact that the girls had to go through a ceremony where they received a flower, symbolizing their virginity and how it shouldn't go to anyone until marriage. The guys had no lesson on this. It was sexist and hetero-normative, something both of them despised.

Both Dan and Phil considered themselves open-minded, especially in comparison to the members of their church. Dan didn't know all of Phil opinions, but he knew they were more liberal than some of the youth group. Troye and Connor, mutual friends of theirs, had come out a year or so ago and Dan knew that Phil was nothing but supportive. Dan didn't know how Phil would react to a guy having a crush on him. Especially if that guy was his best friend. Dan wasn't sure if he had a crush on him, but it would certainly explain a lot. He never liked a girl before but he had just thought that was because he was being a good Christian. His mom had said that some guys don't really like girls until their later teens, but Dan still didn't like a girl, even though he was seventeen. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He could remember really liking one guy and wanting to be friends with him, or the one time where he got really jealous when a girl started talking to his old best friend before he moved.

Dan sighed, relaxing against the seat in the car, gazing out the window. He wished his head would just shut up or figure out what he was feeling. He was already looking forward to seeing Phil at church, even though they had walked home together only hours ago. He couldn't talk to him about what was going on in his head but he could figure out his views and opinions. First, he had to listen to his brother's sermon. Maybe he could ask his brother. He couldn't be too obvious about it though, his brother was basically a pastor now.

They arrived at the church, Dan quickly spotting Phil and making his way towards him. Dan had to be there early because of his brother, Phil just came early because Dan would be there early. It made Dan feel warm on the inside.

"Hi!" Phil said, scooting over on the pew so that Dan could sit. They were in the Sanctuary, the room where the services where held on Sunday mornings and the adult service on Wednesday. Dan and Phil would be in the youth room tonight.  Dan always liked being in the Sanctuary when no one else was in it. He always felt closer to God. It felt holier without more people in it. Dan sat next to Phil, their shoulders touching. He leaned into him, resting his head on his shoulder. He liked that he could do this, he knew that Phil didn't like most people touching him. He had three exceptions; Dan, his mom, and Sarah Michelle Gellar. Dan was honored to be included in the same group as Sarah Michelle Gellar, who was basically all Phil would ever want in a woman.

"You okay?" Phil asked, probably noticing how much quieter Dan was than usual.

"Yeah," Dan sighed. "I'm just thinking. A lot. And it's annoying."

"Well, what are you thinking about?" Dan sighed again.

"Do think God loves me, no matter what?"

"Considering the fact that the bible says that God has created each and every one of us in His image, loving us unconditionally, would support that claim." Phil said, confident in his answer.

"But do you think that goes for gay people too?" Dan questioned, figuring that he might as well figure out what Phil thought.

"I would think so. If the bible says we are created in His image, why wouldn't that be included?" Phil debated. "If we go by that, God could be anyone. He could be a black trans woman. God is everyone and everything, He is everywhere. I know more and more people are using they/them pronouns for God. I think it makes sense."

"But what about all the people that say gay people go to Hell?" Dan was trying to figure out everything. Phil seemed to have answers to everything he asked so far.

"Well, there are contradicting verses. The bible says that anyone who accepts him goes to Heaven. Why wouldn't that include religious gay people? People in Christianity tend take the two verses in the bible talking about homosexuality to judge an entire group of people. One of those verses weren't even for us, it was for the people of the Old Testament. We don't have to wear one piece of fabric anymore, we get piercings, it's considered okay. We don't follow any of the other rules." Phil sighed, thinking some more. "I think the reason some gay people reject religion is because they've been rejected. Religion is so hurtful to so many people. I know God isn't happy with it. Why would He be? He is love, and that's all He wants for us. The fact that people use the bible, which He influenced, to hate must be hurtful."

Dan let himself relax into Phil more as he rambled on, already feeling better. His eyes caught onto the cross that rested against the wall at the front of the church. He felt at peace in the church for the first time. He let the feeling wash over him, making him feel rested.

"Why are you worrying anyways?" Phil asked, noticing that Dan had closed his eyes.

"Can you promise not to tell anyone? Please?" Dan asked, already worrying like crazy at Phil could say.

"I promise I won't." Phil promised, locking eyes with him when Dan opened his eyes.

"I think I might be gay." He whispered, feeling like there was a lump in his throat. His vision got blurry and he willed himself not to cry. He broke his gaze with Phil, eyes resting on the cross.

"Hey, it's okay," Phil said softly. He moved to hug Dan, their chins resting on each other's shoulders. "I still love you, you're still my best friend. Don't think you're getting out of being stuck with me so easy." Dan let out a watery laugh, closing his eyes and letting himself be held.

"Thanks," Dan said, pulling back.

"What made you start questioning your sexuality? Is it a boy?" Phil asked. He got excited, acting as if he had been struck by lighting. "This is why we never talked about girls! You didn't want to! Now we can talk about crushes!" His voice kept getting louder and louder, Dan getting more and more worried that someone would overhear, like his mom or brother.

"Shh, keep your voice down! We're in church," Dan laughed, Phil apologizing. "But yes, it is because of a boy." Phil got a glint in his eyes, the one Dan knew well. It was the look where Phil was trying to figure something else and he was determined to get it right.

"Who is it?" He asked, clearly curious.

"I'm not telling," Dan said, blushing.

"You have to! I've always told you about the girls I like." Phil turned so that he could pull his feet up onto the pew. If either of their mothers saw him, he would be in trouble. Dan mirrored his movements.

"Ugh, fine," Dan said. "It's, uh . . . it's Troye."

"Oh," Phil said, dejected. Was it just Dan's wishful imagination or did Phil actually look upset? He started to brighten up. "Am I allowed to tease you around him?"

"No!" Dan laughed, already dreading the lie. Phil gave him a smile, Dan smiling back. His mother came to warn them that they had five minutes to get upstairs into the youth room before the adults started pouring into the Sanctuary. They scrambled out of the pew, racing to see who could get up the stairs fastest. Dan ended up winning, but just by a few seconds. They took their seats on the only couch. The youth room had a pool table, table tennis, and a hockey table, but those were all in the back of the room. The front of the room was filled with bean bag chairs and old chairs that they had thrifted over the years. The only couch was basically Dan and Phil's, everyone knew that they sat there every Sunday and Wednesday. It was a low flowery couch with mismatched throws pillows. Dan loved it.

Dan settled close to Phil, looking up at his brother, standing on the platform at the front of the room. Dan could tell that his brother was nervous, it was obvious. His brother was wringing his hands and stuttering every now and then. Dan almost felt bad for him, but it was hilarious. His brother was rarely nervous. Dan was going to enjoy this.

"So, kids, well you're not really kids, so teens, today we're going to talk about something that a lot of guys have probably dealt with, whether it's your friends or social media," His brother started. Dan was wondering what it was, sex, fame? "That something is homosexuality, something that is threatening the youth of our nation."

Dan's face went pale, his limbs stiff. He could feel Phil stiffen next to him. He was not going to enjoy this one bit.

*

"How was Aaron's service, Dan?" His mother asked as they drove home. His dad was staying later to help take down some decorations with Phil's dad. They were going to ride home later, that way the rest of their families could leave at the normal time.

"It was good, yeah," Dan said, staring out the window, trying to process his thoughts. His brother had said all the things that any other preacher had said before. It still hurt though. Phil had grabbed his hand halfway through the service, the action concealed by a throw pillow. "Very informative."

"Aw, that's good! I'm so proud of you, Aaron. What did you talk about? I bet it was good." His mother said, turning into the McDonald's drive thru.

"He talked about how all gay people are going to hell." Dan bitterly said, not being able to hold back his bitter tone.

"Dan! Tone, please," His mom said, pausing to order. "I'm sure that your brother meant well, I'm sure that he didn't say anything incorrect."

"The bible can be interrupted in many different ways! Gay people can be religious, and he could've hurt someone! What if there was a kid there who had just realized he or she was gay? How do you think they dealt with being told that they are going to hell, even though they believe in God? It could be damaging." Dan argued, trying to get his mom to understand his view.

"Dan, please, people chose to be gay," His brother said.

"No, they don't! Ask literally any gay person, they don't chose to be gay. When did you chose to be to straight?" Dan was hoping that his brother would realize his wrongs, or his mom would at least come to his side.

"Why do even care?" His brother shot back. "You're straight." Dan could not come out, he just realized, he could not do that.

"I have gay friends! I know they didn't chose to be gay." Dan said, he wasn't lying, he just wasn't telling the whole truth.

"Dan, just accept that you don't agree with each other," His mother butted in. "I'm sure that your brother didn't mean to hurt anyone and it was a lovely lesson." She handed Dan his bag of food, ending the discussion.

*

"Dan! Why aren't you ready for school?" His mother asked, opening his door. Dan startled awake, sitting up in his bed. He must've fallen asleep after his alarm went off. He stayed up most of the night online trying to figure out what to do about being gay. He needed to get comfortable with his sexuality more and then start to slowly come out when he felt ready, at least that's what most people on the internet said. He looked at his mom in that moment, trying to figure out what she would say about him being gay. Would she kick him out? Would she hate him and disown him? Out of his mom and his dad, his mom was definitely the kinder and more compassionate one. If he wasn't accepted by her he'd be screwed.

"I must've fallen asleep again, sorry. I couldn't sleep well last night," Dan sighed, rubbing at his eyes.

"Well, you missed the bus and I have to get to work. You're going to be late either way, do you want to just stay home? Do you have any tests or anything today?"

"No, I don't," Dan said, checking the time, it was 7:20 a.m. His bus came at 7:15 and his school at started 7:40.

"Alright, just stay home today. Your brother will be home today as well, try not to fight. I know how you two get."

"Okay, mom, love you," Dan said, starting to get out of bed.

"I love you, too," She replied, closing the door behind.

*

"You're a traitor!" Phil shouted the moment he entered Dan's house.

Dan laughed. "What makes you say that?"

"You left me! We had a heart-to-heart yesterday and you didn't even have the nerve to show up to school today!" Phil laughed, taking his backpack off and letting it rest against the wall by the door. "I thought we had something special here."

"I'm sorry," Dan said, laughing at Phil. "I slept in on accident. Mom decided to let me stay home."

"Well, it was still rude," Phil said quieter. "I brought you the homework so you don't get behind."

"Aw, thank you," Dan said, accepting the folder Phil gave to him. "You're like my prince."

"Here to save you from the scary dragon of behind work." Phil giggled, going along.

"My hero," Dan placed a hand over his heart, laughing quietly with Phil. "My brother's home by the way. I don't know where though, just warning you."

"I can't swear, gosh darn it!" Phil joked.

Dan snorted. "I have never heard you swear. Ever."

"Because somebody's always been around!" Phil rebutted. Dan rolled his eyes, walking into the kitchen, Phil trailing behind him. He got out the ice cream and ice cream cones, Phil's favorite snack besides popcorn.

"So, you know how you told me who you like yesterday," Phil started.

"Yes?" Dan raised his eyebrow, scooping out ice cream for both him and Phil.

"Are you planning on telling that person?" Phil asked, voice hesitant. Dan sighed, knowing that he had to come clean.

"I lied to you, I don't have a crush on Troye," Dan made sure to keep his voice down seeing as they were in the kitchen and he didn't know if his brother could hear or not. "I have a crush on another guy."

Phil perked. "Do I know him?"

Dan bit his lip, glancing at Phil from under his lashes. "Um, you do. Really well. He's kind of my best friend."

"Oh," Was Phil's response. Dan couldn't look at him. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, you know my crush as well."

Phil had a crush on somebody? And he didn't mention it until now? Dan felt a little bit betrayed. "Yeah? Who is it?" Dan asked, his voice quiet.

"My best friend."

Dan looked up at him, just now realizing that the ice cream was dripping, and took in Phil's expression. His cheeks were a light pink, his eyes downcast and staring at the floor.

"Really?" Dan asked, trying to not let the hopefulness seep into his tone. It felt like at any moment Phil would jump up and tell him it was a joke, laugh at him, and leave.

"Yeah," Phil looked up, his eyes connecting with Dan's.

"Oh," Dan said, repeating what Phil had said only a bit before. "Well, I'm sure he likes you back."

"Is that so?" Phil said, gaining some of his usual confidence back and cocking an eyebrow. "Would you care to confirm that?"

"I'm sure I could think of some way to," Dan said, leaning over the counter, completely forgetting about the ice cream.

"Yeah, I have a few ideas too," Phil leaned over too, their noses touching.

"Yeah," Dan breathed. He moved his head closer, finally making his and Phil's lips touch. It was unlike Dan had anything had ever felt before. Too soon, Dan was unlocking their lips and looking at Phil. His eyes darted down to his lips, then his cheeks, and back to his eyes. Phil's cheeks were flushed with pink. Dan very quickly decided that he want to do that again. Dan grabbed Phil's hand and dragged him upstairs to his room. They had at least another hour or two until his mom got home, they could kiss quite a bit.

"Are we not talking about this?" Phil asked, following him up the stairs.

"What is there to talk about? I like you, you like me, let's kiss," Dan said, closing the door and shoving Phil against it. He had only made out with one person in his life and he fully intended to have made out with two by the end of the day. Phil shrugged and let Dan kiss him senseless.

*

They had eventually moved to the bed, taking breaks between kissing and talking about whatever random thing they wanted to talk about. They were cuddling and Dan was loving it. Dan was facing Phil and vice versa, Dan's arms wrapped around Phil's waist. Their legs were wrapped together. Dan felt like he was going to burst into giggles at any moment, which he had been doing for the past half hour.  Phil would just laugh with him and pull him closer.

It was one of those moments. Dan had burst into giggles once again when he had realized that Phil liked him back. They had kissed, they were cuddling. It was all hitting him and he couldn't help but giggle over and over. This time Phil had pulled him closer and put a finger under his jaw, guiding Dan's face to his. Their lips met and Dan happily sighed into the kiss, closing his eyes and basking in the feeling of Phil's lips on his.

All of a sudden, his door was being opened, his mother in the doorway, clearly angry. "Daniel Howell! Why is there melted ice cream downstairs on the counter? I know it wasn't your brother, he's lactose intolerant for heaven's sake-" She abruptly stopped when she took in Dan and Phil on the bed. "What are you doing?" Her voice had gone cold, her expression a guarded type of anger.

Dan sat up, knocking Phil's arms off of him. Their legs continued to be tangled together and Dan wanted to untangle them but knew that it would draw more attention. He could tell he was on the verge of crying. He knew his parents' views. "It's not what it looks like!" Phil had sat up as well and Dan could tell that he was scared. Dan's mom was probably going to tell Phil's. Phil had told Dan that his parents didn't care about other people being gay but they didn't want him to be gay. If word got back to them things could go from bad to worse.

"And what does it look like?" His mother asked, stepping into the room. Dan needed to think of a convincing argument.

"We were just tired! Phil came over after school and we were talking and then we laid down! That's all that happened." Dan tried to assure her, convince her that nothing was going on.

"I don't believe you," His mom said. "Phil, I think you should go home. Dan and I need to have a talk." Dan felt like crying as he watched Phil solemnly nod and get out of the bed, walking past his mom and then down the stairs.  Dan looked at the bed, refusing to look at his mom.

Dan heard his mother walking closer to the bed and then felt her sit. "Why did you do this?" She asked, her voice fake sympathetic. Dan shrugged, not wanting to tell her about how Phil made his insides squirm more with every passing day. "Are you gay?" He did not want to answer that question, possibly ever, so he just shrugged again.

"I don't think you need to be seeing Phil anymore," His mom decided after more silence from him. "He's clearly influencing you in a negative way. I don't like it."

His mom got up and left the room, leaving Dan to wonder about how his life had changed so dramatically in less than twelve hours.

*

"What did she say? Why didn't she call my parents? I wouldn't have come out to my parents last night if I had known she wasn't going to call," Phil asked at school the next day.

"She said that we need to stop hanging out and that we shouldn't speak at school but I'm obviously not going to listen to her," Dan replied, leaning into Phil's side. They were sitting on a bench outside of their school while waiting for the first period bell to ring. They had about ten minutes. "I don't know why she didn't call your parents, I was certain that she would have called them. What did they say?"

"I thought they would have cared more but they were completely chill with it. Well, not completely but they weren't mad or anything. I was afraid that they were going to kick me out."

"Well I guess that's good." Dan said, considering what to do about his mom and dad's decision. "I still want to see you. I say that we still hang out but 'forget' to mention it to my family."

"Sounds good," Phil said, snuggling into Dan and hiding his face in Dan's neck. Dan smiled, clasping Phil's hand in his.

*

Three weeks had passed and Dan and Phil had still managed to hide it from Dan's family. Dan was happier than he had been in a while, despite his family's views. He had Phil though, and his supportive friends, it was all fine.

Dan had come to the conclusion that God didn't hate him or Phil. Why would He? Him and Phil had so many discussions about it. Of course they still believed in Him, they still wanted to go to church. Why would their sexuality change that?

"My parents are considering sending me to a camp this summer," Dan mentioned.

"What?" Phil said, shocked.

"I know, I'm going to have to convince them not to send me. I'd be 18, though, they wouldn't be able to force me to."

"Well, you're always welcome at my house, you know that," Phil reminded him. Dan nodded.

"I know," He said, giving him a smile.

"Good," Phil said, smiling back.

*

"Hey, I have a great idea," Phil said at lunch, sitting across from Dan. He raised an eyebrow at Phil.

"And that would be?"

"Skip fifth period and make out under the bleachers," Phil suggested.

"And they say romance is dead," Dan said dryly. Phil laughed and Dan cracked a smile. "But yeah, let's do that."

*

"No, I can't be gay. They don't want me to be gay," he cried, trying to hide his face. Dan didn't want anyone to notice he was crying, even though someone was bound to. He was sat in the principal's office, his English teacher, principal, best friend and maybe boyfriend Phil, and the guidance counselor crowded around him. Dan wished they would give him some space.

Him and Phil had gotten caught kissing underneath the bleachers by the English teacher during 5th period, which why they were in the office. They normally would have called their parents but considering the fact that both of their parents were extreme Christians it was decided against. The principal had then called the guidance counselor up to come and speak to them. "My parents are gonna kill me. Please don't tell them, please."

Dan tried to hide another sob, shuddering in the chair. He could feel everyone's gaze on him. It was nerve-wracking. Phil hesitantly placed his hand on Dan's back, rubbing it up and down, clearly trying to be soothing. When his parents heard he was going to be kicked out, he was sure of it.

Phil took a seat in the seat next to him. He reached his arm over the armrest, it wrapped around Dan's shoulder and pulled him as close as they could be with two armrests between them.

"We have to alert your parents, I'm sorry. You were skipping class and breaking school code, we legally have to inform them," The principal said from his desk. Dan wiped his arms once more, wiping the tears off of his cheeks that were still there. He really wished he hadn't started crying, it was embarrassing, to say the least. Phil had seen him crying but only once, and that was when he broke his arm when he was ten.

Dan closed his eyes, letting his head drop against Phil's shoulder. He wished he had never been stupid enough to skip class to kiss Phil under the bleachers.

*

"I want you out of this house. If you are old enough to be a homosexual, you are old enough to find a place to live," His dad said, opening the door to the house.  "You have an hour to pack."

Dan darted up the stairs, slamming his bedroom door and pulling his suitcase out of the closet and stuffing all the clothes he could into it. Then he grabbed his backpack and packed away his chargers and some more clothes. He quickly texted Phil, telling him he was about to walk over to his house with his stuff. Grabbing his favorite pillow and a toothbrush, he trampled down the stairs. Once outside of the door, he started the walk to Phil's house. He never looked back.

*

Years had passed, Dan and Phil were still dating and still in love.

After they graduated they went to the same college, even sharing a dorm together. It made them closer and they felt more in love than ever before.

Both of them felt at home in their new church, a place that was accepting to all people, no matter what. They loved it.

Dan was a teacher, something he had always wanted to do. He loves his job, the kids, and his coworkers. He was happy and content and loved going into work everyday.

His parents hadn't talked to him since he was 17 on the day that they kicked him out. He was devastated for months after but eventually became happier than ever before, thanks to Phil and his family.

Phil was a video editor. He worked from home, which is very important considering they had just adopted a three year old from China. She was the light of their world and they couldn't wait for her to grow up with them.

They would be better parents than Dan's had been. He was sure of it. And that's what was important.

[ashethehedgehog]

OKAY U GUYS LMAO TY FOR THE ASKS <33333 I’ll do ygo for all the letters here! It’s long so I’ll put it under a read more! So dive on in for some talk about my writing and puzzleshipping fics! (Also some snippets I posted below so wink wink)

B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

Not like directly, but I definitely put some of my influences into them. Like Yugi wanting to be a knight in The Beast Within was 100% because I used to want to be a knight lmao. 

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Ohhh off the top of my head? Gosh mmmm. Okay so off the top of my head there’s this one scene in an AU I’m probably going to abandon actually, so it’s kinda ehhh to show it now and tease u all like this lmao, but I did really enjoy writing the interactions between Yugi and Atem in them, so I’m going to put one of those for this! I just like the way they butted heads and Atem refused to relent, but then so did Yugi so they just tip toed around each other looking for the weak spot while referring to ‘the pharaoh’ as if it’s someone else and not Atem lmao. For context, it’s from an AU where everyone is an anthro animal, felines are considered the high ranking ones, spotted cats (Yugi’s species) is endangered and highly revered, Atem is a lion.

“You’re under the protection of the pharaoh, and as such are to remain in the palace where said effect can be carried out.” Atem answered as dully as he could manage. It seemed to work, as Yugi’s expression dropped.

“That order can be extended and revoked by the pharaoh himself should he wish. Do you think the pharaoh realises that? I wonder…” Yugi clicked his tongue, a thoughtful hand tapping his chin.

“I believe the pharaoh wishes for the spotted cat to remain within the palace walls, where he would be safest. I wonder if he realises that he could have servants fetch anything he needed from the city.”

“He wants to go look at what the city has to offer. With his own eyes, not those of servants not belonging to him.”

“You have your own staff I have assigned to you.”

“They’re not loyal to me.”

Atem paused, finally giving his full attention to Yugi. So that’s the kind of game Yugi was playing today. It seemed he had slipped up, however, and Atem wasn’t beneath taking advantage of this blunder.

“You question the good intentions of the pharaoh, who has given you his place as residence while asking nothing of you?” Atem tsked, turning back to his scroll, attention slipping from Yugi. He knew that would irritate the little cat, and sure enough, Yugi gave a soft growl in warning.

“I do not question the pharaoh, only wonder if he remembers whether or not he will honour his agreement.”

“What agreement?” Atem rolled his eyes.

Yugi pushed off the desk, slamming a hand down on the table, tail lashing angrily behind him. “You cannot keep me locked up here, pharaoh. Protective rules or not, if I leave, you cannot stop me.”

“No, I can’t,” Atem responded calmly, adjusting the scroll in his paws. “But you lose my protection if you venture into the city. You go alone.”

"I will be going into the city, pharaoh. And you will provide me with the necessary guards."

G: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

I tend to write random scenes around as I get inspiration for them, but mostly I write it chapter by chapter to keep it consistent! But if I’m in a slump, I write scenes that I had the motivation to work on, even if it’s for like three chapters ahead. I did this a little with my Big Bang fic because I had a deadline and needed to be working on it lmao. Fun fact tho, The Living Daylights I started off with the opening scene from chapter nine! Yeah nine chapters in right crazy ahaha, but that was what inspired the AU! xD

H: How would you describe your style?

I dunno? Semi-decent descriptions enough to understand locations and a fuckton of travelling montage work and fighting scenes. I couldn’t tell u dude I dunno my own style lmao.

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

Sure, why not! So my list of fics I’m currently writing are:

Prince and King on AO3

Dragontaur AU/ Opportunities in Unexpected Places on AO3

The Demon Prince Yugi and Knight Atem AU, which will be my next multi chap fic after PaK is done.

A naga!Yugi and vampire!Yugi AU that I’m writing, buuuuut they’re both for my smut blog, where I post them exclusively, and I’m not going to move them to AO3 either soz (anyone is welcome to IM me for the link to the blog, but it’s on private so access is message only lmao).

Magic AU, which u can find some snippets of here! I don’t plan to take this further than a longshot, even with the potential for more there, I just don’t have the time for another fantasy AU world to build rn lmao. But I hope to have something of this to share soon!

Lion Atem, which I gave the snippet of above, where they’re all anthros. I never wrote much for this, and although I liked the concept, I don’t think I’ll work on it anymore. Maybe I’ll post the 6K I wrote just as a ‘read if u want but don’t expect more pls’ kind of thing. But yeah, at this stage this one is p much discontinued because I don’t have the time to work on it. 

And that leaves Elf King Yugi, something that has definitely been on the back burner for MONTHS now (ever since Trial and Error, so u do the maths lmao) which I have written a fair amount for, but need to do some serious plot work before I consider doing more. Since there is a chance I’ll continue to work on this one tho, I’ll post a snippet here!

"You know the council isn't going to like this Yugi. You're in for a long and dangerous fight with this one."

"I know Anzu- you don't need to treat me like a kid." Yugi scolded her with a quick frown.

"I'm just warning you. Be prepared to argue into the night."

"I am- believe me." Yugi groaned, a hand rubbing his forehead as if to still a headache.

Yami tittered at the edge of the room near the door, unsure if he should interrupt what looked like a conversation (or argument) between friends.

Luck wasn't (or was) on his side though it seemed, as Yugi took that moment to crane his neck to where Yami was standing, his eyes lighting up. Yami suppressed a groan as he waved him over. Yami stepped lightly, his steps hesitant as he approached the two.

"Oh wow Yugi is this him? Your narcissism is showing with this one." The girl’s eyes gleamed with something predatory, like she was sizing up how long Yami would last in... Something.

"Would you please stop saying 'this one?' It implies I do this frequently- which I don't." Yugi said, shooting Yami an apologetic look. "This is Anzu- she works at the castle here-"

"You forgot to mention I'm your best friend." Anzu said in a sing song voice. Yugi shot her a look this time.

"Yes, and you're my annoying best friend." He turned back to Yami. "She's going to give you your tour, alright?"

Yami nodded. "Where are you going?"

"I have to go to court today. We'll see each other later, my dear Yami." Yugi smiled at him, reaching out to pat his shoulder as he passed him, disappearing out of the room.

Yami turned back around to immediately jump in surprise.

Standing way too close for comfort in front of him was Anzu. She had a wild grin on her face, like she knew a secret Yami didn't.

"Well well Yami. Looks like it’s just the two of us for the rest of the day." She practically purred.

"Uh... Okay... Should I be worried?" Yami frowned, not liking the glint in her eyes. It's like a maze of demons here, Yami observed. You turn away from one only to find another.

"Not at all," Anzu hummed, patting Yami's shoulder. "We're all friends here I assure you. Yugi wants me to take extra good care with you. And I must say- I can see why. You're a keeper."

"A keeper?" Yami's frown deepened, and he suppressed a sigh of exhaustion. Just what have I gotten myself into here? He was beginning to seriously regret his decision to break the elves' border seal now.

"Never mind." Anzu waved him off, trotting over to the door only to swing back around, her hand on the handle. "You coming? Yugi wants you to see the castle."

"Oh, right, of course." Yami muttered, following Anzu as she made her way out into the hallway.

"Alright, first things first- unless Yugi gives you public permission to travel around, don't go anywhere without an escort, okay?"

"Why? I'm not a kid." Yami scoffed.

"Mmm, technically you are to a lot of these folk. Most of the population in the kingdom are elves, and they tend to be a lot older than they appear."

N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?

LMAO YEAH REALLY WISH I DIDN’T HAVE TO WRITE THE REST OF PRINCE AND KING BUT WELP IT’S MY FIC AND I’VE COME THIS FAR SO I GOTTA FINISH IT RIP. I just reaaaaaally crave the day I can slap a COMPLETED on it :’’’’D

O: How do you begin a story–with the plot, or the characters?

The plot! Mainly because fanfic so the chars already exist lmao. I usually start with one thing that catches my interest, and work out from there. Sometimes my AUs start from dreams, like Demon Prince started because I had a dream Yugi was a demon in jail trying to seduce Atem to come work for him so lmao there u go. 

P: Are you what George R. R. Martin would call an “architect” or a “gardener”? (How much do you plan in advance, versus letting the story unfold as you go?)

I’m much more of an architect, because without a decent plot written out in front of my, in like a chapter by chapter format, I will easily lose motivation and focus because I won’t have a ‘oh yeah that’s what’s happening next!’ sort of thing. It helps with building up foreshadowing and stuff too for me. The stories I try to ‘gardener’ for I guess are the ones that often don’t see tumblr or AO3 lmao. AKA u will never hear of them because I have a few lmao.

Q: How do you feel about collaborations?

Interesting question! I suppose it depends what kind! I like collaboration ideas, in fact my first multi chapter fic The Living Daylights was a collaboration in ideas between me and my pal Ren! But I still wrote the entire thing lmao. I guess I like to have control over the writing for style consistency, but I think tackling the entire concept with another writer would be fun! I’ve never tried to write something with someone else so I dunno how that would go!

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

[kinda nsfw] INNOCENT PURE YUGI MUTOU WHO MUST ALWAYS BOTTOM FOR ATEM BECAUSE ATEM IS SEX GOD AND YUGI IS VIRGIN WHO KNOWS NOTHING ABOUT SEX. Listen nothing rustles my JIMMIES more than that that troupe which is EVERYWHERE in puzzleshipping. I don’t understand why it’s so popular??? Like, this isn’t to say Yugi 100% CANNOT bottom because he totes can! But of ALL the puzzleshipping I’ve ever read that involved smut, especially in multi chapter fics, Yugi topped like... once, maybe??? ???? That’s SO MANY fics where Atem almost NEEDED to top. It kind of feels like people were too scared to write it at times? Like some stories I could totally see it either way, but it was ALWAYS with Atem topping, always. I don’t really understand why people are so against Yugi topping in puzzle but auuuugh I just wish there was more of it u know? Like if I want top Atem material shit man I got hundreds of fics for that, but top Yugi? Man, I can list them on my fingers...

Long story short ppl shouldn’t be afraid to let Yugi top pls. I’m not saying he ALWAYS HAS TO TOP, but more of that than Atem always topping would be real nice? A nice mix instead of everything seemingly so bias would be cool? Sometimes I want top!Atem, and sometimes I want top!Yugi, isn’t that the same for everyone lmao. Like they’d totes switch it up all the time so why is there so little for top!Yugi? The mystery of my life lmao. Let Yugi Top 2k17.

X: A character you enjoy making suffer.

Probably Atem, sorry to the kid but he’s the one who ends up suffering the most in my fics opps. I think there’s like ONE fic where Yugi suffers more maybe? The rest is all like nope lmao soz bro but ur the punching bag ahaha.

W: Do you like more general prompts, or more specific ones?

(this is the one I picked myself lmao) I like really specific ones! I like to know exactly what I’m writing, and unless I get a burning idea in my head I’d rather do (not often) I’d prefer prompts that give me more to work with, or at least more detail than like a one line simple prompt lmao. 

[fanfics-await-you]

Rules Are Meant to be Broken

Pairing: Cassian Andor x Reader

Prompt: this

Summary: You’re a hot-head and it’s Cassian’s job to keep you in check.

Tags: fluff, bit of angst

Notes: This is fluffy. I decided to pass on the cruelty I was going to commit in part 2. I’ll probs do it at another point as a standalone. Also, soz if there’s syntax errors; it’s past midnight and i’m sick :/

Word Count: 1,532

“We can’t just storm an Imperial facility, Y/N!”

“Why not?!”

“Because those are not our orders and you know it!”

“Your orders can go fuck ‘em selves for all I care.”

Cassian gives you a look that conveys enough that you can fill in his next comment. You just roll your eyes and shoulder your rifle; he mimics your actions.

“I know you have to keep up your ‘cool guy’ appearances because you’re ‘the Rebel’,” you find the air quotes he adds completely unnecessary, “but I do not and it’s my job to keep you in line.”

He ends this all by crossing his arms and regarding you like he’s won. You’ve been working with this guy for three months and he still doesn’t know how to deal with you properly. For fuck’s sake, he expects me to stand down or something when he’s looking at me with that shit-eating grin? Yeah, sorry to disappoint. You turn away as if you’re standing down as you check the status of your blasters; all are working and raring to go (brilliant). You take them from their holsters and turn back. Cassian knows that he’s messed up immediately.

“Y/N-“

“Catch me if you can!”

You burst into a full sprint and weave as he lunges at you. You let out something akin to a cackle as you hear him swearing fervently and at the subsequent pounding of his feet meeting dirt.

———

Not your best mission but by far not your worst.

Cassian is piloting next to you with a stony expression to match his determined silence. Occasionally he throws in a pointed stare for good measure but you are happy to ignore him. You don’t know why but blowing up fascists always puts you in a good mood, and you’re not going to let some stickler, pain-in-the-ass Captain get in the way of that.

“There’s gonna be consequences for this, you know.”

“Oh yeah, the Empire’s going to start hating us more. Like we haven’t done anything to annoy them up until this point.”

Only because you’re looking (and Cassian doesn’t think you are) do you notice the smile flicker across his face before he remembers his irritation. Idly, you notice he’s almost handsome when he’s not scowling.

“That’s not what I meant.”

You sigh, “I know, but it had to be done.”

“No it didn’t, there were no orders t-“

“No, it had to be done. Not because of orders but because sometimes you need to do things. If you can’t understand that then I really think we should stop working together.”

There is silence and you think you’ve pushed him too far. Cassian follows rules and orders and is basically the Rebellion’s wet dream; you are the opposite. You won’t be bossed around by anyone, but you can fight tooth and nail, and are very good at what you do (this is probably the only reason you’re kept around). They assigned you two as partners in the hopes that he would calm your ways. That plan so far had been less than successful.

“I understand that sentiment more than you think I do,” Cassian’s voice is muted, almost hesitant.

You look up and he is staring right back. His defences are gone for a moment and there is a grief that is very familiar to you hiding behind his eyes.

“I want to blow up every Imperial fighter and droid and building I can get my hands on as much as you but that’s not the way it works. If we all did that then the Rebellion would be dead within the year.”

You continue staring and silent for a moment before you nod. Yes, you understand and appreciate what he has said but no, that does not mean you will be following his advices. From the way he quickly cradles his head and sighs, you know he comprehends this.

———

“You’re telling me that you snuck an Imperial droid in here because you reckon you can reprogram it?”

…

“Yes!”

Cassian covers his eyes with one hand as you attempts to look as innocent as possible. This is a difficult task as you are covered in motor oil with the disassembled parts of an enemy droid at your feet. You and Cassian have been working together for eight months now and have gotten life down to a somewhat manageable science. The plan to civilise you has been all but abandoned as far as you’re aware. In fact, you think Command is starting to worry that you’re rubbing off on him, which is probably true. They won’t break up the team though because somehow, in the madness of polar personalities, you and Cassian have the highest mission success rate on base.

“How did you even get it in here? This is the residential district!”

“Well, I had to bribe Yo-“

“Never mind, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know.”

“Cass, you were the one who was dumb enough to ask in the first place.”

“Ah yes, because I am in the wrong in this situation.”

These back-and-forth repartees have been know to continue endlessly if someone or something doesn’t intervene, so you speak bluntly, “Enough, Cass, are you snitching or not?”

He regards you for long enough to make your skin feel hot before he just closes the door to your chambers. You’re unsure what this is supposed to mean until he rolls up his sleeves.

He smirks at you and you know it’s going fine, “I’ll help you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve seen you program a unit before and after last time I’d like to make sure this one doesn’t try to kill me. Who knew a cleaning droid could be so violent?”

He ducks as the spanner flies towards him but there is a light feeling in the room that settles itself in your chest.

———

In the name of the Maker and everything Mighty, blaster wounds hurt like a bitch.

“You just had to go in, guns blazing, didn’t you?”

“You wouldn’t love me any other way, Cass.”

Cassian gives you a concerned look but continues to silently apply bacta patches. Your sentiment is light-hearted but causes your already tight throat to constrict. You had sworn to yourself that over your dead body you would tell Cassian your feelings but it seems that predicament was drawing closer with each breath. You decide you don’t want to go out with any regrets.

“Cassian look-“

“Stop right there. Don’t you ‘Cassian’ me. Don’t say it like goodbye.”

“We’re soldiers and we’ve seen wounds like this before. Goodbye is realistic.”

“This is not the time for you to start being logical, Y/N!”

His eyes are glistening and your heart breaks a little.

Cassian clears his voice and continues, “So don’t be. That’s my job. You’re supposed to be the one who comes out unharmed, no matter how unlikely.”

You smile a little, “I guess everyone’s luck runs out eventually.”

At this, he stops and takes your head in his hands. They leave blood trails on your cheeks but you don’t care.

You can’t help yourself, “I love you, Cass.”

You don’t have to clarify; he knows exactly what you mean. He leans back on his heels and yells into the air.  There is an anguish in this complete release of emotion that causes tears to well in your eyes. When he runs out of air, he collapses and folds in on himself a little. His forehead meets your’s.

“You had to wait ’til now to tell me,” the smile that accompanies the words is watery and forced.

You nod some, grin, and let out a sob. In this chaos of water and blood, he leans forward and for what you feel like will be the first and last time, you kiss Cassian.

———

You are exhausted and the lights are shrouded in halos. The world is too loud, too bright, too much.

“Let me through!”

“Captain, she needs rest!”

Instantly your eyes are open and you’re smiling.

“But she’s awake?!”

“Yes bu-

“Then let go!”

You know that voice; too well, in fact. Cassian bursts through the door and an entourage of medical staff quickly follow suit. Seeing as you’re already awake and he’s made it through, the doctor stammers out threats of official reprimands but trickles out the door with the rest. Cassian is smiling and rushes towards you. He reaches forward to embrace you and you’re prepared to take the pain that will come but he suddenly remembers why you’re in hospital in the first place. He withdraws sheepishly and sits next to you, a huge grin still adorning his face. For lack of other options, you use your hand to touch his face, to reassure yourself that this is real, that he is here. When you have finished tracing the lines of his cheeks, Cassian takes your hand and places butterfly-soft kisses on your fingers. You feel light-headed, though you think this only has a little bit to do with the painkillers.

“So…”

You respond, “So…”

“I had an idea.”

“Yeah, Cass?”

“We should definitely continue what we were doing before.”

“Cass!”

[gaybellethorn]

got some more inappropriate asks, gonna address em under the read more but this is the last time im addressing them ya heathens! i’m just gonna delete them in the future, i don’t care if it’s a joke or whatever but it’s inappropriate and i’m saying here and now i don’t wanna see this again. thanks 4 understanding, hopefully this blog will be back 2 uninterrupted gay doll teens very shortly

i got a cannibal cerise ask a couple months ago and i’m p sure i know who sent it, and now having another one come in with the vore shit is making me think it was a fetish thing/vore related thing all along and it’s the same person sending these vore asks. so before i go messaging this person to ask them to stop p l e a s e just take this post as a sign that this is inappropriate at best and if you keep at it it’ll be harassment. like i’m directly saying i don’t want to see this fetish shit in my inbox (on my doll sideblog!!!! regarding characters in a children’s franchise!!!!!!!!) anymore. please respect this.

i don’t know how much more i have to explain this, but yeah i’m not gonna be drawing anything related to these so don’t ask again. i’m not even taking requests as i’ve explaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiined as recently as a few hours ago in direct relation to this mess so i don’t know why you’re askin again, my stance hasn’t changed? and in general i won’t be doing any fetish/sexualising art for this franchise seeing as it’s For Children like;; i’ve no interest doing that anyway obviously and i want to keep this blog child friendly also obviously. i’m well aware of the fact that i’m a grown ass adult (i’ll be 22 next week) and i don’t want to give minors any reason to feel unsafe in this space. like this fandom is THEIR space, i would never want to expose these minors to harmful stuff especially when this content belongs to THEM in the first place.

repeatedly asking me to indulge you in your fetish relating to this children’s franchise esp after i’ve already said no is straight up nasty even if your intent wasn’t malicious. if i ever gave the impression that sexualising this franchise in anyway was acceptable to me i sincerely apologise to every else on this blog, that absolutely is not my intent. and if i’m doing anything wrong in the handling of this situation as well please let me know! i want to shut down this fetish shit as swiftly as possible and get back to posting actual eah/mh stuff and just be done with this mess cause no one wants to see it and no one should have to see it here.

and if these asks are a joke (i’m bad with reading tone a lot of the time, esp w anonymous messages), i’m telling you now i don’t care, please just drop it cause i’m asking nicely! hopefully the reasons i listed above will explain why i’m so unwilling to indulge these asks even as a joke because this situation is gettin a little out of hand. that comic i posted last night in relation to the apple vore ask, i legitimately thought that ask was a joke so i responded with a joke comic where the punchline is on faybelle bein fuckin awful and her mind jumpin to tumblr memes, not just ‘haha vore’? i still think the comic is p funny but if anyone has an issue with it or if anyone uses it as proof that i’m okay with vore shit/any fetish shit on this blog then i’ll of course delete it cause that wasn’t my intention at all.

yeah i think im ramblin at this point, not really sure what i’m getting at any more sfdgfdsg sorry for the length and the serious tone if this all reads as Kind Of A Bummer but i really want to stress that these asks just aren’t appropriate and i don’t want to receive them anymore. again thanks for understanding and i hope this will be the end of that! also really sorry again to everyone seeing this who didn’t want this mess on your dash. :’U

also also this isn’t opening the floor to discussion honestly, please don’t send anymore asks on this subject or try convincing me this doesn’t count as fetish shit or whatever, i’ve already explained how these asks can certainly be construed as such so i’d like to drop the issue totally now. i’ve explained my stance, please respect this! i shouldn’t have to make MULTIPLE posts arguing that fetish stuff doesn’t belong on this doll sideblog!! so yeah hopefully it’s done now dfdhgdfg soz yall

#cannibal mention / #vore mention / #fetish mention  / #blood mention / god idk gfddgn