#and most of the shit is stuff id roll my eyes at and scroll past in a good/neutral mood! but the burnout brain is like no theyre doing this

[bunnyb34r]

I'm so burnt out my dudes

[strniohoeee]

because matt is so tough lately can you write something about reader trying to show him her love with cutesy thing but hes just tough and even snaps at her for lil things and one time reader starts crying and tell him how she feels and matt feels bad and apologize and then some fluff

Can’t You See?

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N can’t understand why Matt is being such an ass to her. She’s going through her own stuff, and tries her best to be the best for Matt, but it just not good enough🩶 I also combined it with this request reader starts getting depressed but matt is an idiot and doesn’t notice and even makes it worse by being angry always than nick and chris talk to him and then he makes it up with fluffy ending

Warnings⚠️: Matt is an asshole in this which is not at all how Id think he’d actually be, but I had to do it🤭 Hope yall enjoy🫶🏽

Song for the imagine: Mark My Words- Justin Bieber

So you heard it all before

Falling in and out of trust

Trying to rekindle us

Only to lose yourself

But I won’t let me lose you

And I won’t let us just fade away

These past few weeks I have been at an all time low mentally. It’s been getting harder and harder to pull myself out of bed and get stuff done. I hated this feeling because it destroyed my life outside of my head.

At first Matt was understanding and even tried to help me, but this wasn’t something he could help me with. This was my own battle. I had to try and fix myself. I hated to put this on him and his brothers because I didn’t want them to stop what they were doing for me.

I often removed myself from them, focusing on myself when I got like this. They always checked up on me, but I made it clear I was okay on my own.

Most days I would wake up and shower and just sit in bed for hours staring at a wall or scrolling on my phone. Often forgetting to eat or drink water. At first they tried to help me, but then they went on with their lives doing what they needed to do, and I didn’t mind. That was until Matt started getting upset

I was once again sitting in Matt’s bed today in complete darkness curled up in a ball looking at the wall just thinking. It’s crazy how fast time goes when you’re not paying attention. Suddenly the door opened the lights flickered on causing me to squint

“Have you gotten up at all today?” Matt asked bluntly

“I have” I said in a whisper

“Are you just going to sit in bed everyday and mope around?” He asked opening his closet to change his outfit

“I’m not moping matt” I said not even looking over at him

“Yes you are, I’m trying to get you to get up and go out, see some light, and all you can do is lay around and stare at the wall” he said scoffing at me

“You’re being a dick” I said to him

“I’m not I’m being honest, and you clearly don’t like honesty” he said looking through his closet

“I’m going through something right now, and I’m really struggling to feel better, so you coming in here and barking at me isn’t helping” I said to him

“So get up, like force yourself up and let’s go do something. We can go for a ride or to the boardwalk or even to eat….just something” he said

“I don’t want to get up okay, you don’t get it” I said back

“I do get it. Do you know how many days I wake up and I want to roll over and stay in my room, but I can’t because I actually have a job to do and content to create” he replied back

I turned over completely appalled at his words

“Actually have a job? We both have the same fucking job you fucking asshole” I said looking at him

“Well look who’s putting in the work and who isn’t” he said looking over at me

“You’re such a fucking piece of shit when you want to be” I said rolling my eyes

“I tried to be there for you, but this has been going on for so long, and it’s exhausting trying to help you” he replied slipping his shirt on

“No one fucking asked you to help me I said I got it on my own. I’m so fucking sorry my depression is taking such a toll on you” I said getting up from the bed

“It’s upsetting to just see you lay here and waste your days away” he said looking over at me

“Can’t you see?…..YOU JUST DONT GET IT” I yelled the last part at him

Opening his door and walking out slamming the door behind me. I was fuming and I needed to get out of the house immediately.

I grabbed my purse and my car keys from the table

“Hey you okay?” Nick asked me as I walked into the living room

“Yeah I’m fine your brothers being a dick” I said

“Classic Matt” Chris responded

“Where are you going?” Matt suddenly asked from the kitchen

“I’m leaving” I said with my back to him

“This is what it took for you to get up? Was an argument? It’s shocking how upset you get over small things” he responded

“Matt shut the fuck up” Chris said to him

“I’m not mad I’m disappointed that you of all people are acting this way towards me” I said finally looking over at him

“I was just trying to help you” he said

“Whatever I’m going” I said turning to walk down the stairs

“Where?” Matt asked

“Away from you. I need space from you” I said

With that I walked down the stairs and hopped into my car deciding to drive back to my apartment. Once I got home I decided to shower and listen to music while I cooked something for myself

I loved Matt but his communication skills were horrible. It’s crazy that this small argument put some drive into me to start doing stuff. I was filled with so much anger and hurt from Matt. This was not who he was, and I wasn’t sure if he was going through something himself, or if I was genuinely making him upset.

I allowed myself to hurt and cry in the comfort of my own home. Scared that this would cause our relationship to end, but also scared that it could be something I wanted too.

I slept it off that day, and hadn’t spoken to Matt in three days. I would text Nick and Chris letting them know I was okay, and that I wasn’t too sure what I wanted to do as far as our relationship.

Another three days went by, and it was a good week now since I last saw Matt. Around the fifth day he started to call me, but I ignored his calls, truly needing this time to think.

On the eighth day I felt better, and I really missed Matt. I wanted to make things up to him and make things right. I decided to go on a small shopping spree for him and write him a cute letter attached to a new stuffed animal I got him.

After shopping I decided to head over to the triplets house letting Nick know I’d be over shortly. He left the door unlocked for me. I made my way to their front door letting myself in.

“Hi guys” I said walking up the stairs

“Heyyy you’re back” Chris said

“I am” I said giggling

“Are you feeling any better?” Nick asked me

“I feel much better. I think I just really needed those last days to think about everything and figure out what I wanted to do” I responded

“Are you breaking up with his bitch ass?” Chris asked laughing

“No I came to apologize to him” I said

“Apologize to him? You didn’t do anything wrong” Nick said

“I feel like I shut him out and I lacked communication with him, and that’s why I want to say sorry” I told him

“Aww okay” Nick said

“He’s in his room” Chris said

I nodded and walked over to Matt’s room, opening the door to see him lying on his bed scrolling through his phone.

“Matt” I said shutting the door behind me

“Baby” he said getting off the bed and coming over to kiss and hug me

“I missed you” I said kissing him again

“I missed you too” he said looking down at me

“I brought you gifts to say I’m sorry” I said smiling at him

“Oh yeah?” He said nodding at me

I gave him the stuffed animal and the bags of stuff. He walked over to his bed placing the stuffed animal on his bed and sitting down to look in the bags

He pulled out shirts and beanies and a new necklace

“Why’d you get me this?” He said his mood suddenly changing

“Well to say I’m sorry for not talking to you” I said

“You sit around moping and then suddenly you feel better to go shopping? This is all so expensive, why'd you waste your money?” He said looking at me

“What? I’m confused right now” I said shaking my head

“You don’t talk to me, but you think buying me expensive stuff is going to fix us?” He said

“Matt, are you joking? I came here to apologize to you for not opening up to you and taking your advice. I wanted to spoil you with my hard earned money, and this is how you treat me?” I said scoffing

“I just wanted you to talk to me not do this shit” he said putting the stuff back in his bag

“I don’t know what happened to you Matt, and I’m sorry if you’re going through your own issues right now, but this is not you” I said shaking my head

“I’m fine” he said sternly

“You’re clearly not you’re snapping at me for no reason” I said

“I’m not snapping” he said

“You know what Matt. If you don’t want to be with me just say that, okay? I’m over this! I’m leaving” I said walking out of his room

I walked to the living room and Nick stopped me

“What’s going on?” He said reading my demeanor

“I don’t know what’s going on with your brother but that’s not the guy I fell in love with” I said clenching my jaw

“What’s wrong with this kid?” Chris suddenly said

“I don’t know, but I’m over it. I’m leaving” I said huffing out a breath

I left their house and headed back to my place. Even more angry than our first initial fight. Why was he being such a fucking dick?

Nicks POV

“Matt what the fuck is wrong with you?” I asked him

“Nothings wrong” Matt said scoffing

“You’re being a complete fucking dick to Y/N, and she didn’t do anything to you” I responded back

“She just makes me upset sometimes with how she does thing” he said back

“So then like an adult you use your words. You don’t just lash out like a child” I told him

“I didn’t lash out like a child” he said getting upset

“Yes you did, and you get upset easily. You need to figure your shit out, or she’s going to leave you, and I wouldn’t be shocked if she did” I told him

“You know what fuck you” he said and stomped to his room

Matt had sat on his bed running his hands through his hair looking down at the bags of clothes Y/N had got him. He let out a sigh and leaned back, suddenly landing on a stuffed animal and hearing a crunch of paper

He furrowed his brows and reached behind him, he pulled the stuffed animal out, and saw a note attached to the front. It read Matt with a heart next to his name.

Matt opened the envelope and pulled the letter out. He began to read and his facial features softened

To my beautiful boy,

I’m sorry if I’ve done anything to upset you, that's not what I intended. I’ve been struggling with my own depression, and it’s not something I want to put on you or your brothers because I know you go through so much daily. I appreciate you being there for me, and being my shoulder to cry on. I love you. I’m sorry if you’re going through anything yourself, and I haven’t given you the comfortability or time to express yourself. You haven’t been the same these past few weeks, and I hope it’s not something I’ve done. I care for you and I worry for you, and even though your words hurt me the other day I can not hold it against you. Deep down I know you’re fighting your own demons, but I just want you to talk to me. Our communication has been awful lately, and I’m not sure why. Please know that I’m always here for you no matter what. Rain or shine I’ll be there for you my love. I just want us to be how we used to be happy and in love. I love you with my whole heart Matthew!

Sincerely,

Your biggest fan

Matt immediately shot up, his heart falling to his stomach. Immediately he felt the guilt and disgust wash over him. How could he be so mean and awful to you? You have been there for him through thick and thin. You were his rock and he was treating you horribly

Matt jumped up immediately grabbing his keys, and running out to head over to you. In a hurry he walked down the stairs shouting to his brothers he’d be back home soon.

He got in the car and immediately started his way over to you. How could he hurt his baby? His number one in life. He was so hurt he couldn’t even focus on anything else. About 20 minutes later he arrived to your apartment complex, walking up to your floor and knocking on your door

You opened the door with saddened eyes, and a confused look on your face.

“You’re my everything. I have never wanted anything more in life than you. I have been the worst boyfriend to you during a time where you needed my support the most. You didn’t deserve to be spoken to the way you were. And for that I can not forgive myself for. I was a piece of shit and you tried to be understanding. If you no longer see a future with me because of how I acted I completely understand that” Matt said looking me in the eyes

“Matt? I….” I couldn’t even form a sentence I was shocked

“I love you, and if you don’t want to see me right now I get that. I will give you space and I will leave” he said turning on his heels to walk away

“Matt wait” I called out to him which caused him to turn back around

“You were a piece of shit and the things you said were awful, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you. I know deep down you're struggling with your own issues, and if you don’t want to talk about them that’s fine, but just know communication is key, and it goes both ways” I said looking at him

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry” he said letting his head hang

“It’s okay Matt, come in” I said pulling him in to my apartment

“It’s not okay. I was horrible to you and I don’t deserve you” he said sitting down

“Don’t speak like that. We deserve each other, you just have a hard time communicating, and I understand that” I said walking over to him

“It’s just seeing you so hurt and depressed made me so angry because I couldnt bare to see my baby struggling and not feeling like you were able to come and talk to me. It hurt me, and instead of talking to you about it I let that hurt turn into anger” he said

“I’m sorry for completely shutting you out of my life for those past few weeks. It wasn’t right, and that was a time I needed you the most and I just pushed you so far away” I told him

“I promise to communicate with you about how I feel so we can work everything out, I don’t want to fight with you” he said pulling me into him

“And I don’t want to fight with you either Matthew. I love you” I said smiling at him

“I love you too” he said letting a tear fall from his eye

“Don’t cry my love it’s okay” I said pulling him into me

Matt completely broke down in my arms

“It’s not okay I hurt you and I can’t live with the fact that I said such awful things to you” he said in sobs

“This will make us stronger as a couple okay, we now know how to go about our issues without it boiling over” I said petting the back of his head

“I’m sorry….im so fucking sorry” he said pulling away and looking at me

“It’s okay, I love you okay” I said wiping his eyes and looking at him

“I love you too” he responded

I pulled Matt in and kissed him. It was a deep passionate kiss. A kiss that we so badly needed.

Matt laid in my arms the whole night as we spoke to each other. Talking about our feelings and how we wanted to change. He listened to every word I said carefully and I did the same

Matt was my ride or die, and I could not live without him.

The End

Alright guys I hope both people who requested this imagine enjoyed it! I loved writing this one! And I hope yall enjoyed it 🤭🤭🖤🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

[monsterenergysimp]

Permanence

corpse husband x fem!reader 

summary: you meet corpse on a stream and you’re surprised when he reaches out to you 

warnings: cursing, mentions of tattooing

word count: 1.9k

notes: This is proof read but could have missed some stuff. This is my first corpse fic and my first time writing fanfic since I posted that super cringey book on wattpad when I was like 12 or something. I’d appreciate feed back so please reach out to me :)

main blog @itsmysleepover

read part 2 here!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You were cleaning up your station so you can get home and stream. You loved your day job as a tattoo artist but you also really enjoyed streaming. It started as a way to promote yourself as an artist and the shop you worked at but it eventually became a really fun way to destress at the end of the week (or day if you were really itching to stream). “Hey Y/N was that your last client?” your boss, KC, asked as she walked to the front of the shop and put new flash drawings on the walls.

“Yes ma’am!” You said back excitedly. You finished cleaning your station and tossed your black gloves in the trash. “And you can’t trick me into staying and taking walk-ins,” you joked with her. She rolled her eyes and walked back into her office “It was one time,” she said as you slid on your jacket. As you walked out your phone buzzed in your pocket and you checked to see who had texted you. It was a message from Sean asking if you were free to play Among Us with him and some other streamers. You replied that you were on your way home right now and totally down. You were excited to see who was playing this time around since their Among Us streams are super entertaining and have gotten really popular.

On your way back you tweeted and posted to your Instagram story that you’d be streaming soon and set up all your stuff once you made it home. After a few minutes, you had a couple of thousand people watching. You entered the discord chat and Sean spoke up. “Everyone this is Y/N she’s sensitive so be gentle.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you guys and I’m not gentle, I'm ruthless,” You say into your mic and notice the chat calling you a liar. Everyone was in the lobby waiting for the game to start. “You sound way too sweet to be ruthless,” Corpse said. The countdown started and you were imposter with Charlie.

“This should be fun,” you told the stream. Yout tried playing strategically but after such a long shift your brain was mush. You saw Poki in nav and killed her then vented into shields. Not long after the body was reported and you were sure you were going to get voted out or at least sussed.

“Where was the body?” Felix asked. “Nav and I didn’t see anyone near there so whoever is imposter must have vented,” Corpse responded. Felix spoke up again. “I think I saw Y/N walk that way and I haven’t seen her since.”

Shit, shit, shit shit. “I’m in shield right now so-” you said trying to defend yourself but Charlie spoke up. “I was doing tasks with her earlier and I saw her walk into shields so she’s safe but I’m still not sure about Rae.” Everyone discussed a bit more and some people, including Corpse, voted for you but Rae got the majority vote and was ejected. You released your breath and kept playing being extra careful.  

“Okay, guys that was super close. Corpse knows and is out to get me,” you said to the chat. You were eventually voted off but one round later victory was written across your screen with your ghost and Charlie’s avatar. “Good game guys,” Corpse said.

“I told you guys I was ruthless!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You sat at your station doing nothing because a client had canceled a four-hour session. You were listening to music and sketching some stuff but you were bored out of your mind and you didn’t want to leave in case you got a walk-in. The music got quiet as you received a twitter notification saying someone had messaged you. You reached for your phone and saw you had gotten a dm from Corpse.

C: hey :)

You didn’t know what to respond. You were mostly confused as to why he decided to message you out of the blue. Did he want something? But what would he want?

Y: Hii! This is sudden

C: was i bothering you?

    shit sorry!

Y: Youre fine I wasn’t doing anything rn

C: how has your day been

    i dont usually do stuff like this

Y: Im glad you did im doing better now I was so bored

C: what were you doing that was so terrible

Y: NOTHING! thats the problem :(

C: im sure youll find something to do

You stared at his message. Unsure what to respond.

Y: Im gonna give myself a tattoo

C: what?

    NO!

You tossed the needles you used for your tattoo into the sharps box. “Oh my god you didn’t,” KC said. She noticed the wrap on your calve from the tattoo you just gave yourself out of boredom. “It’s not my fault I didn’t have anything else to do!” You said trying to defend yourself. She sighed and just shook her head. “Just go home business is slow today.” It was raining so the shop probably wasn’t going to get a walk-in anyway and you didn’t have any more clients for the day. It was only 2 pm but you drove home and after making lunch for yourself decided to stream. You weren’t expecting too many people so it was bound to be super chill. Your leg felt sore reminding you of the tattoo. You snapped a quick pic of the fresh jack-o-lantern on the side of your calve and messaged it to Corpse.

Y: [image] it came out nice!

C: thats  super cool actually

    i was concerned why you would just give yourself a tattoo but i found your instagram and       youre super talented

Y: Thank you!

For some reason, it felt strange to just have that be the end of your response.

Y: Im about to start streaming if you wanted to watch

    [link]

C: ill be watching ;)

What’s that supposed to mean?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You sat in your apartment watching tv, hand lost in a bag of Doritos, and scrolling through twitter. You had stopped paying attention to the anime playing on the screen since you’ve watched it a hundred times and knew you wouldn’t miss anything. It was Saturday and you usually take those days off. Take the time to do chores or meet up with some friends but today you felt like not doing any of those things. As you continue your endless scroll (not helping the twitter addiction you told yourself you’d try to get a handle on) you got a message from Corpse.

C: wanna talk?

You looked down at the message unsure of how to answer. It was a simple yes or no and the obvious answer was yes. You and Corpse had started talking more regularly. You still didn’t have each other’s phone numbers but it was fine. Your conversations weren’t too big-- just you sending him memes, tiktoks, and telling him how much you liked the songs he would drop. Or him complimenting a tattoo you did. Sometimes he’d message you during streams telling you funny stuff his fans would say in the chat and you’d do the same. You learned a bit about each other but nothing too deep or serious. Like how you two lived a few cities away and you both really liked Donnie Darko. When Sean first invited you to that game out of everyone else there you were most excited to meet Corpse. He’s just so sweet and funny. Of course, you’d love to talk to him but you were also itching to talk to him and the last thing you’d ever want to do was make him uncomfortable.

Y: Yeah id love to talk

Here goes nothing.

Y: Wanna facetime or something?

     No pressure or anything it could even be a regular call

     I think facetime is just my default lol

You sent those last two messages quickly after you had sent the first. You wished you could know what he was thinking. It was killing you to think you had turned him off from talking to you completely. You put your phone down on the couch and went to wash your hand of Dorito dust. When you got back from the kitchen you turned off the tv and tossed yourself onto the couch.

Still no message.

Why am I so fucking stupid?  

Just as you were standing up to stretch from sitting on the couch all day your phone buzzed. You reached for it fast and looked to see that it was him. You became super excited still not even knowing what the message said. It could have told you to never talk to him again for all you knew.

C: sure lets facetime

    xxx-xxx-xxxx

You had his phone number. You added him to your small but growing contact list and called. You sat on your couch waiting for a response when he finally picked up the screen was black. It didn’t upset you; you kind of expected it and didn’t care what he had to do to make himself more comfortable during this call.

“Hey,” he said. His voice was raspier than usual.

“Did you just wake up?” You asked and looked at the time. It was about a little past noon and you had only eaten Doritos all day. Shit, you should probably make a decent meal.

“Not that long ago but yeah,” he responded and giggled. That giggle.

“Well, I’ve eaten nothing but Doritos all day while rewatching Ouran High School Host Club, so you’re welcome to join me as I make myself something to eat.”

“Sounds like fun; what are we eating?”

“I don’t know yet,” You said as you stood up and made your way to the kitchen. You opened the pantry and looked. You noticed a can of diced tomatoes and reached for it then checked the expiration date. It was still good. On your counter were some onions and garlic. “How about some tomato soup?”

“Sounds delicious.” you smiled at Corpse and your phone screen not knowing if he was also looking at his screen or not. “You’re really pretty-- you know that?”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to--”

“I’ve already told you what an incredible artist you are so many times I bet you’re tired of hearing it, but you already know what a talented artist you are.”

“That is very kind of you Corpse,” you said to him bashfully as you chopped the onion and opened the can of tomatoes. “But once again you don’t have to reach so far to compliment me.”

“I’m not reaching you are talented and beautiful and--”

“I thought I was pretty.” You could hear him chuckle with a smile on his face. “You’re both,” he said. You could feel your face getting warm from blushing.

“Fuck you you’re making me blush. My face is all hot and stuff.”

He laughed at how flustered you got. “That’s the cutest thing ever.”

You didn’t know how to respond so you just put some olive oil in a pot and tossed in your onions. It became silent but it was a comfortable silence. You turned the stove on and watched the flame for a few seconds. “If it was dark we could pretend we were together and having a bonfire or something,” you said to the phone as you turned the camera to show him the flame (still not 100 percent sure if he was looking at you or not).

“I’ll put it on the list of things to do when you visit me someday.”

[copias-thrall]

Cause I'm Young and I'm Here and So Beautiful

A look into the rise and fall of Mary Goore's flash-in-the-pan modeling career.

~12.5K Mary Goore/Reader *drug/alcohol use; mentions of past child abuse; brief homelessness; plot no porn; POV shift*

This fic was inspired by and is very loosely based on Aurelio Voltaire's early days in NYC in the 90s, though I have set it in Boston in the early aughts. ��

Many thanks to the artists who did commissions for this! 🥰

One Way Streets

Mary stepped off the regional rail and gripped his backpack. He had $72.57 in cash rolled into his socks and a give-em-hell attitude.

When he’d packed his bag the night before, he wasn’t even sure if he’d go through with it, but he couldn’t stand being home anymore. Some of his friends had told him he was crazy.

"Three more months, dude. You got this. Just finish high school, then bounce."

But they didn’t have to live with his dad and the step-monster. Every day was a new indignity. Having them bitch about his music and his style was one thing—that he could have dealt with—but everything else had just kind of…escalated.

Now that the kiddies were older, they’d turned into gremlins. They’d somehow sensed that Mary wasn’t their beloved older brother—he was some sort of half other. They’d stopped questioning why "mom was so mean" to him and had accepted that she was because there was something wrong with Mary. They realized they could be little shits and blame everything on him.

And dad just didn’t care. He’d throw up his hands and say, "I have to live with her"—as if Mary wasn’t in the same boat.

Dad hadn’t stopped her when—in a rage—she’d smashed every single vinyl album Mary had owned because the twins ruined her nice tablecloth. He’d shrugged when she cut all Mary's guitar strings so he couldn’t play "the devil’s music." He’d held Mary back when she took a match and burned all his secret stuff that Mary kept under his bed—action figures, books, guitar mags, journals—in the backyard because he got detention for smoking. He hadn’t said a word when the police showed up after she came at Mary with scissors because he’d dyed his hair black and he’d pushed her away before she could scalp him.

Mary thought for sure he was going to get carted off to jail as she screamed about him terrorizing the family and being afraid he was going to kill her sons in their sleep, but the officers had just looked at her bored and told her being a teenager wasn’t a crime.

So, no: Mary couldn’t wait 3 more months.

He’d scraped together what money he had left from his secret shifts working as a busboy under the table at a local dive downtown, packed his backpack with the essentials, and walked the 5 miles to the train station instead of going to school.

Eighteen was 10 weeks away. He could fudge it for a few months, especially since he could already get away without using his fake ID to get into shows most of the time.

So, to the big city it was.

He shifted his weight and tried to pretend that he belonged here in Boston, but actually facing the busy streets was a lot different from looking at a bird’s-eye view map. He had a printout in his pocket, but he didn’t want to look like a doe-eyed tourist. So he set off down the seemingly labyrinthine streets in the direction he could have sworn was the correct one.

It wasn't.

When he came out a side alley into Faneuil Hall, he almost wondered if he'd gone through a fairy portal, since he was clear on the other side of town. Begrudgingly, he checked his creased map, and set out once more.

And ended up spit out by the State building.

Finding the hostel turned into a fraught adventure, and he got turned around several times more. When he tried to ask for directions, most people pushed past him while one lady shoved $5 at him. He used the cash to buy a hotdog, and it was the vendor who ultimately gave him directions in his thick, Southie accent.

Of course, making it to the hostel ended up being just part one. The rates were almost double what it stated online ("Sorry, honey—that site hasn’t been upgraded since the 90s."), and two nights were practically all his savings. Mary had thought he’d at least have a couple of days to find a job, not 36hrs.

He left the hostel, wondering for the first time if maybe he shouldn’t go back home…but he decided it was a nice day out. Surely there was some place he could hunker down. Just for the night.

What he hadn’t anticipated was the cops at every fucking turn telling him to move along. And any place out of line-of-sight seemed to already be inhabited.

He finally found a place behind some rocks in the Seaport where he didn’t think he’d be murdered in his sleep, curled around his backpack, and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Mary woke up damp from the dew and the morning sun streaming into his eyes. The birds were creating an awful racket, but Mary guessed it was as good an alarm clock as any.

He ran his fingers through his bird's nest of hair, and he made his way back to the South Station. The men’s room may have smelled like a sewage treatment plant, but at least it was free. He had expected it to be mostly empty at the crack of dawn, but it was full of commuters making that last run to the head before they had to take the train 2hrs out of the city for work.

And it was a sight: a bunch of suits with their fancy lattes washing their hands, and Mary in the corner trying to surreptitiously wipe down with paper towels under his Misfits t-shirt and his shredded jeans. At school, he’d have probably gotten into several altercations by now—no one would have let him just turn into Mary Goore without a fight—but this was Boston, and no one gave him more than a cursory glance.

Just another college kid.

It emboldened Mary to go full-out in the kind of way he had only done when going out to the punk shows downtown at night: kohl all the way around his eyes, and some on his cheekbones; mascara because his lashes are long and thick, and he knows it (his dad had said it made him look hard, and Mary had sneered that maybe that was what he’d been going for. But maybe it had been because he’d liked the way it had made his green eyes pop.); a smear of the step-monster’s fanciest matte lipstick on his full lips; and airplane glue in his hair to give it that lift.

He made a kissy face at himself in the mirror, and headed back out.

It was a nice Spring day—almost boiling in the direct sun—and it tempted Mary to wear only his battle vest, but even he kind of figured applying to jobs half dressed was a mistake.

He walked all over the city, trying not to get lost, looking for any kind of work—dishwasher, busboy, barback—but all he had to show for it was blistered feet and a raging appetite. The only good part of the day was that he noted any restaurant or bakery that looked like it might toss perfectly good food at the end of the day.

He and his friends had become experts at dumpster diving in his podunk town, and he felt confident that he had a good feel for a jackpot. Mary staked out a bakery and was rewarded with a find of "old" bagels. He shoved as many as he could into the nooks and crannies of his backpack before slinking off to the Commons to inhale at least two of them.

Cold, stale dough never tasted so good.

He watched the tourists and the professionals walk by in ones and in groups while he ran his bare feet through the grass. Some laughed with each other as they sauntered down the path while others seemed singularly intent on their ultimate destination. A pack of dogs ran and played with each other as their owners looked on fondly, and nearby the baseball diamond hosted a casual game.

Mary counted his lucky stars that his first week in Boston was April at its kindest—always mild during the day, even when it turned cloudy, and a few times even downright warm. The nights turned chilly, though, and it had Mary in more layers than an onion. If the birds or damp didn't wake him, his butt cramps from being curled in a tight ball all night did.

He spent those days walking around the city proper looking for work. He wasn't adventurous enough to make the leap across the bridges to Cambridge just yet, but his travels gave him a good sense on how the different sections of Boston connected—and showed him potential places to crash at night. He didn't even mind living off day-old garbage food and drinking from bubblers (he'd bought a water for the express purpose of reusing the bottle), but the barren wasteland that seemed to be the job market was beginning to weigh on him.

At home, he could always find a shit job if he was willing to put up with shit hours and ridiculous requests. Here, though, Mary was just one of many desperate people willing to do desperate work.

And he didn’t look particularly trustworthy or reliable.

@dipendancesld

Hashtag WTF

I’m scrolling through Insta on the T, and I’m way down the rabbit hole of hashtags. New content was at a minimum this morning (how can I follow accounts in triple digits and only see the same 4 posts?!), so I’d started with some art tags and ended up where I usually end up—trolling social media for blurry pictures of my boy.

His band has been a local staple for years—or at least that’s what he told me on our first date. I had just moved from New York after a nasty breakup, ready to start fresh, and I’d seen him at a coffee shop hanging posters for his next show in his leather jacket, asymmetrical Metallica crop top, and stomping boots.

Fresh had never looked so good.

Then, a few months back, an online publication had featured his band in the year’s 50 best bands "you’ve never heard of," and now the band's starting to gain traction.

He’s starting to gain traction.

Finding the new online content of him first has become a game the two of us play. We had to stop counting images posted from the popular fan accounts because Mary's now acquaintances with most of them, and I said it was hardly fair to snipe me that way. Mary had pouted—but it was to cover up his grin. So now we troll for the pictures of his latest gig or at his favorite haunts from either his  casual fans or one of his new ones. I even have a whole range of hashtag typos saved if I really want to triumph, since Mary just doesn't have the attention span.

I usually win, though, by virtue of not keeping Rockstar Hours—and because Mary doesn’t have a smartphone. Mary delights in spending the wee hours while I'm sleeping finding new content, and I'll often wake to one he's pulled up on my laptop and a "suck it" sticky note stuck to my monitor.

(But I’m reigning supreme.)

There’s a thirst tag I sometimes comb through (for reasons), and today I’m desperate for that morning serotonin to keep me from dozing off, which is why I stumble across a particularly convincing cosplayer in some…risqué poses and outfits.

The dude is really good, and I have to admit he really does have Mary’s mannerisms down pat. He’s younger and a little skinnier than Mary is now, but his facial expressions are on point. I zoom in to see the contouring technique because he's using one of those filters to make it look old…and that’s when I sense something off. I can’t quite place my finger on it, but usually there’s an uncanny valley to his serious cosplayers, and this dude looks so real. He’s even 100% accurate with the mole placement, which is something I never see.

My heart does a flip-flop.

Is that…actually Mary?

Foundling

Mary's sixth night in the city, it rained. It was more of a brief Spring shower, but it was still enough to soak him and his backpack through. He shivered through the early morning hours until the sun came up, then he made his way to the Commons to lay his belongings—and himself—out into the sun to dry.

By midday, he had a slight sunburn across his nose, but most of his things were dryish—though the food was a soggy lost cause. He cut his losses and decided to buy a sausage from the hotdog vendor, even if that meant he was down to $52.37 in his sock bank.

It was the most amazing thing he'd ever eaten in his entire life (sometimes he still dreams of it), and he gobbled it down as he sat in the grass and watched the show of people pass by.

He could take today off from his job search.

Just another Groundhog Day of rejections.

A gaggle of kids about his age walked past, and he lit up when he saw them: studs and bright hair and cuffs and combat boots. They ran and shrieked and shoved at each other, and Mary had never felt such longing to be a part of something.

Not that nebulous feeling of "my world is out there somewhere," but "my world is right there if I can just get to it."

And he realized maybe he could.

These were his people.

Mary hopped off the bench and approached the boisterous group.

"Uh, hey…guys."

The pack stopped and looked him over, confused but not hostile.

"Oh hey, man" said a girl with green fins and a studded, leather jacket.

"Hey."

I have nowhere to go. Can I go with you?

"Sorry, I forgot your name."

"Oh, you don’t—"

A guy in a tight striped shirt, snake bites, and blue hair interrupted him.

"Shit, were you in my intro into film class last year?"

Mary was a high school dropout.

"Nah, dude. I’m new and shit."

…But he wasn’t stupid.

A curvy white goth with bleached blonde hair and a cream princess dress smiled at him.

"Aww, that’s rough, honey. If you think about it, they really ought to give transfers on-campus housing. It sucks to be so new and away from the action."

Mary nodded. "Yeah. Sucks."

"Well, we’re going to The Pit, wanna come?"

"If you guys don’t mind…"

"Fuck, the more the merrier!"

Mary smiled as they assimilated him into the group. He found out the goth’s name was Vanessa ("But call me Vanity."), green fins was Alexa ("Or Alex. I’m trying it out."), striped shirt was Billy, and the two other punks were Mandi (Manic Panic red) and Aaron (band tee, spiked collar).

No one laughed at him when he introduced himself as Mary or asked him why he had a girl’s name.

They took him onto the T at Charles MGH, and Mary marveled at the setting sun over the Charles River before the train ducked underground to barrel in Cambridge. At Harvard, they ushered him off the train and directly into The Pit, and Mary almost cried when he saw the pit rats there playing hacky sack, strumming guitars, and smoking cloves. Mary watched as his group high-fived, bumped chests, and hugged nearly everyone there before introducing him as if they’d known him for years.

He was shit at hacky sack, but he accepted a round on the guitar and shared a clove with a white girl who had a rat's nest of hair.

"Fuck their beauty stands," she said when she caught Mary staring.

Mary smiled and pointed to his own mess of hair. "Fuck ‘em," he repeated.

She cackled and handed him a brown bag with what he expected to be whiskey, but tasted like turpentine.

She laughed harder at his face as he coughed, and she pounded him on the back.

"Moonshine, dude. Lenny makes it in his bathtub."

"Which one is Lenny," Mary asked as he wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Oh, he’s not here. He goes to MIT. We have a strict trade agreement—booze for pot. I’m Katie."

Head fuzzy, Mary had made out with her until Aaron tugged on his arm.

"Shit dude, we gotta go before the T closes. You live close to here?"

"Uh…"

"Aww, I think he got into Lenny’s moonshine," said Vanity. "If he’s a transfer, I bet he’s at some shithole in Allston. You in Allston, honey?"

Mary just nodded.

"All right then," said Alex, taking charge. "We’ll put him up tonight. There’s no way he’s gonna make it back to Allston by himself, and I’ll be fucked if I’m trekking out there without a BU party to crash."

Mary wobbled slightly as Alex took his arm in his and led him to the T.

"Ok, we gotta go now or we’ll all be hoofing it."

They took Mary back to their dorm by the Hatch Shell and signed him in as a guest.

"Is this ok?" Mary asked warily—he didn't want to get kicked out in the middle of the night.

Mandi patted him on the back.

"We do it all time. No one really gives a shit. Vegan Mick dropped out 2 semesters ago and they don’t even check for his ID."

That night, Mary slept in the common room on a lumpy couch that was half as long as he was.

It was heaven.

The next morning seemed like the end, and Mary slumped as Vanity to sign him out. For one brief day he'd been a part of something, and now it was back to Mary, party of one. But Vanity took one look at his face and asked if he wanted to get breakfast at the dining hall.

Of course, he wanted to…but he thought of the dwindling cash in sock bank and hesitated. Vanity, bless her, misread his trepidation.

"It's on me, sweetie. I know most transfers don’t opt in. Too expensive when it’s not bundled. No worries, I got a ton of points I don’t use."

Alex and Aaron were already half done with their food when Vanity and he joined them, and they looked on in amusement as Mary ate half the breakfast buffet.

When the subject of classes came up, he shrugged off questions.

"None this morning."

Alex narrowed her eyes at him.

"What year did you say you were?"

"Sophomore."

"Not a freshman?"

Mary shook his head. "I’m not a freshman."

She seemed about to ask another question, so Mary quickly changed the subject.

"I thought I’d spend the day applying for jobs. You guys know of any place that’s hiring?"

"No work study?"

"No."

"What kind of work you looking for?"

"Shit, anything. I’ll sweep the fucking floors."

They bandied about ideas, places for Mary to try, but no one had any leads. Too soon, some unknown gong had them scurrying to get to class.

Mary suddenly panicked.

"Hey, do you guys mind if I spend the night again? I mean…"

"Yeah, sure," said Vanity. "Aaron?"

"Yeah, man. Meet me after class and I'll swipe you in."

It apparently was a time-honored tradition, passed down from upperclassmen to underclassmen, on gaming the guest system. Most kids used it to essentially move their significant others into their dorm rooms, but a handful every year used it to give haven to others who had questionable housing situations.

So, just like that, Mary had a place to rest his bones.

@dilfpassing

A Deeper Look

I’m so intent on scrolling through the comments on the grainy pics—which I'm sure now are actual scans—that I completely miss my stop, and I have to put my phone away so I can wheeze lightly jog my way to where I work as a receptionist at an alternative hair salon.

It’s really important that I start a good hour before we open so I can return any calls left on our voicemail first thing in case I can fit anyone in today. Which means I have to shelve my find for now, much to my irritation.

Mornings are super-busy because apparently there are some people in the world that like getting up with the sun and want everything done by noon. (June Cleaver’s salon lets me get away with a lot—like coming to work in denim short-shorts and ripped tights, free hair colors, and a snarky attitude—but late start times aren’t one of them.) I honestly don’t have room in my brain to obsess about the pictures because I’m too busy answering calls, making coffee, settling accounts, and giving the new customer spiel for the 57th time to a walk-in.

It’s just after midday, when Penny, the shampoo girl, collects my cash for the salon-wide sandwich run, and I finally have a moment to breathe. And obsess.

I take out my phone again, and I have to retrace my steps because of course the app has refreshed, which is why Sonia has the time to look over my shoulder.

"Missing dream boy’s dick so much you gotta spend your lunch hour ogling pics of him on the internet?"

I zoom in on the one of maybe!Mary in his underwear.

"Who does that look like to you?"

Sonia makes a guh sound in her throat and backs away.

"I don’t need to see your intimates!"

"That’s the thing! It’s not mine!"

"Your boy’s nudes get leaked??"

I wave my arms around.

"I don’t freakin’ know! They may not even be him. Fucking. C’mere and help me out!"

Sonia warily creeps back over, and so does Ryan, since all the yelling has attracted him.

The three of us peer over the phone as I scroll through the images again.

By the time Penny comes back with lunch, we’ve gone back and forth on who’s in the images—Mary or a fake—and I haven’t been able to do any actual research. The afternoon rush starts, and I have to table the whole thing again, having made no progress at all.

It isn’t until near-closing, when most of the other stylists have gone home—and it’s only June who does the post-work crowd—that I can really dig into the matter.

A deep dive and a couple of defunct, decade-old forums later, I find that what I took as an aspirational hashtag was actually the name of a zine called "Heroes."

There’s like, zero online trail about it—except for a few other grainy scans of other pages of articles, poetry, concert pictures, and art—but it seemed to be an early aughts missive for local underground culture and color.

It still doesn’t explain why Mary’s in there in various states of undress and poses.

Or why Mary has never said a word about it to me.

Stripped Bare

Mary settled into a sort of routine. He spent most days looking for a job—any job—with his backpack full of food from their dining hall. Most nights he rotated couches on different floors so the RAs didn’t notice that he basically lived there.

He made friends with Vegan Mick for about 5 seconds until Mary had eaten an entire Rotisserie chicken from 7-11 in front of him. Mick had launched into a whole spiel, and Mary had pointed out that Mick's jacket and Docs were made of leather. He’d only meant it as a joke—a callout in answer to a callout, like he'd do with his friends back home—but Vegan Mick had turned purple, then iced Mary out every time he saw him after that.

Oops.

The brief friendship had lasted long enough, however, for Mick to give Mary some tips and tricks of being homeless.

Homeless.

That had been a tough pill to swallow. Until Vegan Mick had put Mary’s situation like that, Mary had just thought of himself between places.

But it was true: he didn’t live anywhere. He skated by on the kindness of his new friends, and he didn’t know how much longer he could keep up the ruse of "transfer student who didn’t like his shithole apartment and was too busy job searching to concentrate on classes."

He still spent a few nights a week finding an out-of-the-way place outside to hunker down in or huddling in with Katie and a few of the other gutter punks under their boxes in the corners of the T stations. He knew they would have been more than happy to make room, anyway, but Mary always emptied his backpack of all the pilfered dining hall food for distribution amongst them.

It honestly wasn't so terrible now that he had friends and a warm place to go on cold or rainy nights, but.

He needed an actual place to live. To afford an actual place to live, he needed a job. To get a job, he needed a place to live.

It seemed like a catch-22, and he began to despair that he’d never get ahead…until Mandi offered him a leg up.

Mary was sitting on the grass in the Commons in the shade, thinking that with summer coming up, maybe he could fudge it until the gang came back in September. There was always Katie and The Pit, and Mary was sure he could chip in somehow.

Mandi sat down next to him.

"I thought that mess of hair was you, Mare."

"Hey, Mandi. What’s kicks?"

"You still looking for a job?"

Mary put his head in his hands and sighed.

"Don’t remind me."

"You over 18?"

Just last week. But Mary hadn’t said, since they thought he was a Sophomore.

"Yeah."

"Wanna be at least 21?"

Mary grinned at her.

"That’s what my fake ID says."

She laughed, a tinkling thing.

"You got anything against strip clubs?"

Mary furrowed his brows at her.

"Uh…what’s the right answer here?"

She shoved him playfully.

"Do you want a job?"

"Yeah?"

"Then say no."

"No. No problems with strip clubs." He squinted at her. "Are they looking for male strippers?"

She laughed again.

"Definitely not." She canted her head at Mary. "I mean, you're very pretty, Mare. I could probably put you on as one of the girls…even with these triple As," she flicked playfully at his nipple, which had him grunting and batting at her, "but I was thinking more behind the scenes."

Mary held up his arm and made a weak muscle.

"I don’t think I’d be much of a bouncer, Mands."

"You said you’d wash dishes, sweep floors and shit, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, the club I work at—"

"The club at you what now?"

Mandi gave him a strange look.

"Yeah. The strip club I work at."

Mary’s eyes bugged out.

"As a…waitress?"

"As a stripper, Mary. Duh." At his dumbfounded look she shook her head. "It’s kind of extra credit, as a dance major. I’m going to turn it into my thesis. Plus, I make hella bank."

She swept her arm across the park that made up her college "campus."

"How else do you think I can afford this rock-and-roll lifestyle? Not all of us are here on scholarship or mom and dad’s dime."

She tilted her head at him.

"I thought you’d get it."

When Mary didn't respond, she touched his shoulder.

"Mare. I know you don't go here."

"W-what…? I…"

He looked at her, wide-eyed as the blood drained from his face.

"Hey, it's ok. I'm not gonna tell anybody. Not if you don't want me to."

Mary looked down. "Thanks." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You know that means I've got no address."

Mandi bumped his shoulder and waved his words away.

"A lot of the girls dance. Paddy is used to dorm rooms as addresses. You can use mine."

Mary looked at her, hoping he could convey every ounce of gratitude he was feeling.

She grinned and punched him in the shoulder.

"So, you up for it? Sweeping floors and bussing tables?" She leveled a look at him. "Cleaning up puke?"

Anything.

"Fuck, I’m desperate, Mands. I’ll hold their hair back if it means a paycheck."

"That’s the spirit!"

***

Mary was sure Patrick was part of the mob—or at least in cahoots. The guy had taken one look at Mary’s ID and had said, "But how old are you really?" and Mary had said, "Nineteen."

Patrick had thrown up his hands. "Well, you ain’t gonna be serving alcohol anyway, kid. Your job is to do whatever I tell you. Some asshole breaks a bottle, you clean up the glass so the girls don’t hurt themselves. Some idiot ralphs all over the toilet seat, you scrub the shit out of that fucker. A bachelor party leaves a table a hot mess, you better be out there clearing off the table for the next one, got it?"

Mary had nodded.

"You show up at 5 to help the girls set up the bar. You stay til whenever it takes to close down—but you only get paid 'til 2am—and you get an hour to eat, unpaid. You don’t bother the girls, and," Patrick had leaned in, "you don’t steal from me."

Mary had gulped and nodded emphatically.

Patrick had jabbed a finger at him. "That includes the booze. If I get fucked because some snot-nosed, underage kid is drinking with my good friends Jim and Johnnie, I’m gonna be very put out."

"Got it, sir."

"Don’t call me sir. I’m Paddy to my friends, so you can call me Patrick."

"Yes, Patrick."

Patrick had looked him over.

"You get paid as an independent contractor just like the girls, so you gotta deal with your own taxes, you got that? I’ll start you at $10 an hour."

Mary’s eyes had gone wide. Back home he was lucky to get 5.

"Ten…?"

Patrick had tilted his head again.

"No, you’re right, 12. Do a good job, and I’ll think about raising it to 15."

Mary had to physically stop his jaw from dropping.

"You do weeknights for now so if you fuck up it’s not that much of a problem. If you don’t fuck up and the girls don’t hate you, you can get weekends. Deal?"

Mary had sat up straighter. "Deal." He’d held his hand out, but Patrick had just looked at it until Mary pulled it back into his side.

"Ariel vouched for you, so I’m giving you a shot. Don’t make her regret it."

Mary had shaken his head as Patrick had handed him some forms to fill out.

"Come back at 4 tomorrow with these and we’ll get you started. Now, get out, I got shit to do."

Mary had taken the forms and skedaddled.

Mandi was outside waiting for him, all smiles.

"Did you get it?"

"Yeah, but fuck—your boss is scary."

"Nah, he’s a teddy bear."

***

The job was awful.

The puke was an almost nightly occurrence, and by the end of the first week, little cuts covered Mary’s hands from the broken glass. The customers were loud, rowdy, and acted as if their mother was going to clean up after them.

Mary swore he would never get the beer smell out. It now lived in his soul.

One dude punched Mary and broke his nose for no reason Mary could tell before the bouncers dragged the guy away. The girls gave him some tampons to stop the bleeding, and Mary finished his shift.

Patrick paid Mary in cash at the end of every week with a "It’s your job to report that, not mine," and at the end of the month, Patrick bumped Mary up to $15/hr. He worked 5 days a week because, according to Patrick, "The Lord gave us a day of rest, and you get one day off per week."

Mary never reported a single cent to the IRS.

The girls loved him, and joked that Patrick had gotten them a pet. They showed him winged eyeliner and smokey eyes and how to contour. They guffawed when they watched him try out their shoes like a newborn deer. On slow nights, they tried to show him pole techniques.

He saw the gang less and less because by the time they were getting out of class, he was going into work, and when he was done work, they were crawling into bed. Fortunately, the desk sitters seemed to forget that he wasn’t an on-campus "student" and didn’t even bother signing him in anymore. There were a few sticklers, but Mary found that—while back home he was less than scum—here, he attracted all the right kinds of attention…and a smirk with the right compliment went a long way.

By the time their school year ended, Mary had saved up $1,000 (and he needed to transfer his money out of sock bank and into the ripped lining of his jacket).

Even though they didn't know just how much they'd saved him, Mary showed up on the last day as thanks to help them all move their stuff into family cars or rented trucks. They hugged him goodbye and said to ring them next semester.

Mandi bopped him on the nose and told him to keep his nose clean.

Mary took a sublet in Allston with 2 BU kids and a Berkley grad student. The "room" was a closed-in porch with a sleeping bag left by the last resident—but it was $400 a month until September, utilities included.

At first, Mary didn't know why the gang was so snobby about Allston, but the summer seemed to be one continual party. It didn't matter what day Mary got up, there were always broken beer bottles and stale beer on their front stoop, and the apartment had a designated watering can for washing away the vomit that dripped down from the top porches to their own.

But he took it in stride, and when he wasn’t at the strip club or sleeping, he was partying with the BU kids, or letting the Berkley grad show him better string fingering techniques.

Mary still tried to get out to The Pit with what groceries he could spare, but Katie had moved on with some of the others to do a protest tour with an activist street band that had come through town, and without her or the gang, it made Mary feel lonely.

By the end of the summer, Mary had saved up enough money for first, last, and security. He even had some left over to buy more than ramen and some new clothes. To Mary, it felt like a million dollars. He rented a garden-level apartment in the cheap part of Jamaica Plain for September 1st and spent that entire day with the BU dudes driving around in their rented truck for Allston Christmas’s best furniture finds.

Mary ended up with a mattress that he hoped on a wish and a prayer didn’t have bedbugs, a mismatched set of dishes, plastic drawers that were slightly warped, and a broken futon frame he swore he would fix. Throw in a few sets of slightly used string lights, and Mary’s cave felt downright homey.

When the gang got back, he simply told them he’d dropped out.

"Yeah, I just don’t think college is for me. Music’s my real passion, you know?"

Alex had groaned.

"I knew that Berkley kid was gonna be a bad influence on you."

Mary shrugged.

"My grades were shit anyway. But I’m still around, you know. The strip club’s only a block from campus."

"Because we saw you so much then," deadpanned Billy.

"Hey! Stop piling on Mary," said Vanity. "He’s following his path."

Mary shot her a wide smile.

"Thanks, Vanity."

Patrick finally gave him a little more leeway with his days off, and Mary started taking Saturday night to join the gang in Harvard Square for the shadow cast of Rocky Horror. One of Aaron’s classmates, Amber, was in it, and they all wanted to support her.

Mary felt that something again. That thing that told that this was his place and his people. This eclectic group who got up in front of strangers every week in their underwear for free enthralled Mary.

He and Amber bonded immediately, and Mary began going even without the gang. The cast welcomed him in as an honorary groupie, and Mary's friendship with the gang waned. There was still Mandi to cavort with at the strip club, but now when Mary wasn't there, he was at any one of the Rocky crew's apartments getting high and playing dress up.

"You’ve got such a Look, Mare," sighed Amber. "I’d kill for your cheekbones."

"I’d kill for your tits."

She slapped him playfully. "Don’t be gross."

"No, I’m serious. Someone once put it in my head that I'd be a hot chick."

The girls had giggled and proceeded to dress him up in bras and corsets with cutlets. They added a wig, and the glo-up surprised even Mary.

Still buzzed, they went out for girl’s night and hit up all the bars in Fenway and flirted their way to free shots from the dude bros before batting their falsies at bouncers to let them into the clubs ahead of the line and without the cover.

The cutlets eventually became a nuisance—and soon they were all flapping them about above their heads as they danced—but Mary had loved the feel of the lace and satin corsets against his skin.

When they’d all collapsed in a pile at the end of the night, Mary wondered if they’d tell him where to get some lingerie for himself.

***

By August, Mary was ready to quit the strip club.

He was tired of cut fingers (they were making it hard to play the guitar he’d bought), the drunks, and the sick everywhere. Now that he had a little cushion, he thought maybe he could at least find something with better hours.

Mandi had graduated and was well into a summer internship at Disney in hopes they’d bring her on as a dancer.

Alex had also graduated and moved out to LA to make it as a film editor.

Vanity and Aaron had started dating after finals, and they had moved in together in Cambridgeport for their last year.

Billy had stopped going to classes before dropping out altogether. No one seemed to know what happened, and when they called his home, his mother just said he was unavailable.

There didn’t seem to be much reason to stick around the Grid anymore, and it was a bitch of a commute back to his place if he wasn’t going to hang out with the Rocky crew. He landed a job at a record store that was walking distance to his apartment.

Patrick seemed surprisingly sad to see him go, saying, "Ah, the good ones smart up," and gave him a $500 bonus for not "fucking up."

Tim, one of the older Rocky people, turned out to not live too far from him, and when Mary started hanging out there, so did the party.

Now that Mary was no longer shackled by the strip club’s hours, his world opened a few more degrees. He spent his nights dressing up while he watched the cast rehearse. (When he showed them a move or two he learned from the women at the club, they tried to get him to do a guest star as Frank. But Mary had shaken his head and said that wasn’t the kind of performing he wanted to do.)

When they weren't rehearsing, they dragged Mary to TT The Bear’s, The Middle East, and The Milky Way Lounge for underground shows. They took him to fetish night at ManRay after a trip to Hubba Hubba for pleather and lingerie, and Mary made a lot of new friends.

Sometimes, Mary would show up to work straight off a night out in his club clothes, eyeliner smudged and lipstick smeared. It should have got him fired, but his boss just shrugged.

"I used to keep rockstar hours too."

Mary still wore all his old vestiges—his battle vest and his ripped jeans—it was just that now he sometimes added a corset and heels.

Wherever Katie was now, he hoped she knew he was still fucking their beauty standards.

ry.omen Insta

Answer Me This

I practically vibrate the entire way back to our place. I'm still trying to wring information out of the internet like it's too-wet clothes, but the only thing I accomplish is making myself motion sick on the bus, so I put my phone back in my pocket and breath through my nose.

When I get home, Mary is sprawled across the couch in his pjs with various limbs hanging over sides and edges as he watches some extreme sport show on my laptop.

I wonder if he just got up, but I see the start of dinner on the stove, so I decide not to snark at him.

"Hey," he says without looking up.

I am, however, gonna need some answers on "Heroes."

I gently close the laptop, and he meets my eyes.

"What?"

I climb onto the couch, and Mary’s limbs recede like vines to make room for me as I scroll through my phone to my photo app where I’ve saved screenshots.

"Lucy," I say in a terrible accent, "you have some ‘splaining to do!"

Mary squints at me and takes my phone, his expression morphing into one of surprise.

"Shit, babe. Where’d ya find these??"

"So they are you!"

He chuckles.

"Christ…I haven't thought about these in fucking years."

"Mind telling me what the fuck?" I ask, my hands on my hips.

I'm only half joking.

Mary grimaces at me.

"Ah."

"I'm gonna need more than that, mister."

He rubs the back of his neck.

"Fuck, you know those were hard times for me."

I know about his family, the homelessness. I know he tried out a lot until he found a life that fit. He'd given me the overviews with occasional anecdotes filled with names I never remembered.

But none of them included naughty pictures.

I worm my way under his arm.

"Yeah, I know, Mare."

His hand strokes down my arm.

"I mean, shit. I was kinda an asshole, you know?"

I wrap an arm around his chest.

"You're still kind of an asshole, Goore."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

When he doesn't say more, I poke him hard in the side.

"I’m literally dying here."

He laughs a little.

"Fine. But you gotta remember you asked."

Model Behavior

One day, Mary was walking down the street on his way to drinks with the new friends he'd made the weekend before. It was a good day. He wasn’t hungover as fuck, his makeup was only smudged artfully, and he was pretty sure he was going to get laid.

A guy in a leather jacket and tight jeans maybe a few years older than Mary stopped him on the street.

"Hey, man! I love your style."

Mary batted his eyelashes at him. "Thanks, dude."

"You ever think of dark modeling?"

Mary squinted his eyes at him.

"Dark what now?"

"You know—modeling but like," he gestured up and down Mary’s form, "for dark beauties. Show the world beauty isn’t cookie cutter."

"For like what? A website or some shit?"

The guy dug into his pocket, pulled out a card case, and handed one to Mary.

Heroes Greg Karson, Photographer/Web Design Butera School of Art

Actually, Mary had heard of this. It was a zine about the local happenings around town—concerts, art shows, parties, etc. There was a stack of them next to "Rrriot!" in the record shop. He’d flipped through one occasionally, mostly interested in the band reviews.

"We’re really on the lookout for anyone with the right look. You know, wear stuff you already own."

"So like a street fashion spread?"

"Well, we might do a little more with it, but—you know how it is. Most of the budget goes toward printing costs."

Mary perked up.

"Would I be paid?"

Greg laughed.

"Peanuts, my dude. But yeah. Even if it’s a T token. You interested, then?"

"Hell yeah!"

"Mind if I take a few test shots."

Mary smirked at Greg.

"How do you want me?"

"Just natural."

Putting his hands in his pockets, Mary arched his back and gave Greg his best snotty hipster face.

Greg dug out a digital camera from his carrying case and took a dozen or so pictures of Mary from different angles while telling him to turn this way or that.

Afterwards, the two of them huddled over the camera and scrolled through the shots.

"Aw yeah, this one. I love the attitude. The guys are gonna love it. You have a number where we can reach you?"

Mary gave him the number of the record shop. (His apartment had a phone, but he’d never gotten around to wanting to pay for service.)

Later, he and Amber looked up the Angelfire website on the back of the card. It was one page that contained the mission statement, bios of the creators, and locations to pick up the zine.

"Omigod—you’re gonna become a famous model, Mare!"

"Yeah, right. You know most of it ends up in the trash, right?"

But when Ben called, Mary said he was game. He directed Mary to a co-op in a converted warehouse in Dorchester, and Mary brought his favorite clothes in a borrowed duffle.

A girl in cat pajamas opened the door and pointed at a set of metal stairs with her cereal spoon.

On the second floor, Mary found Greg setting up a makeshift studio. A girl with multiple piercings and yarn dreads leaned against the wall in her black babydoll dress.

Mary sidled up to her.

"You here to model, too?"

She gave him an unimpressed once-over.

"I’m the art director, asshole."

Mary flushed hard as she turned to Greg.

"Couldn’t find one with brains?"

She turned back to Mary.

"I don’t know if you thought this would be a good way to meet chicks or what, dude. But I’m letting you know right now that I’m here on my day off to make sure this adheres to our aesthetic, so if you're not serious, fuck off."

Mary rubbed the back of his neck.

"Shit, sorry. I was expecting a dude named Ben."

She waved her hand in the air as if dispelling Ben.

"The Bens are morons. Good idea, terrible execution. I’m here to make sure we remain true to the idea of 'Heroes,' so don’t fuck up my shoot." She gave him a once over. "Christ. You have any experience?"

Greg turned from where he was testing the white balance.

"Angelique, stop harassing the talent. We get it, you have a degree from RISD."

Angelique snorted.

"As if I don't hear you going on and on about being a professional photographer. 'Hey, lemme shoot your portfolio, baby.' Whatever. As if we're not your only professional credit."

"Hey—you wanted a photographer for peanuts? You got me. You wanted models for peanuts? You got him."

Mary gave her his full snaggle-toothed grin.

"I take T tokens."

Angelique sighed, then pasted on a smile.

"Hi! So happy you’re here!" Her smile drooped. "You got your wardrobe in there?"

"Yeah."

Mary handed her the duffle, and she handed him release forms.

"Here: sign these"

She pawed through his offerings.

"Not bad, not bad." She pulled out a corset and his heeled boots. "We'll keep you in your jeans and have you wear your jacket over your corset. Cool?"

Cool.

The shoot was as professional as a shoot in a warehouse in what Mary was taking to usually be a living room could be. Angelique directed Greg with what she wanted. Greg called out positions and expressions for Mary to pose in.

It was surprisingly hard work, and by the end of a solid hour, his smirking lip was getting tired. Angelique and Greg scrolled through the shots, murmuring to themselves and nodding.

Mary waited—greeting at the other inhabitants as they squeezed by on their way either up or down—until Angelique approached him.

"That’ll do. You mind if we post on our website?"

Mary preened.

"Yeah, that’s kosher."

She handed him a pen and pocket notebook.

"Write down a quick bio."

He scribbled down a quick elevator pitch

Into general skulking and metal \m/

and handed the notebook back to her.

"Great, thanks."

She handed him a $20 bill, her eyes skimming him up and down.

"Next time we should show off those hip bones. Just jeans, I think."

Mary perked up. "Next time?"

"We’ll call you."

***

"Omigod, omigod!"

Amber perched on the record store counter, flipping through "Heroes," as Jon peered over her shoulder.

"Mary…look at you!"

Mary tried to swallow his smug smile.

Failed.

"Yeah. I’m hot shit, ain’t I?"

She bopped him on the nose with the newsprint.

"Don’t be vain."

He showed her his toothy smile.

"I like to think of it as confidence."

"So did Icarus."

Mary snorted and went back to putting prices on the new CDs.

"The camera loves you," said Jon, who was always quiet and reserved as you please…until he put on Frank’s corset and heels.

Mary had tried flirting with him, but Jon always ducked his head and played it off.

"Thanks, man," said Mary, giving him a softer smile.

"So??"

"So what, Amber?"

"Are you gonna do it again?"

Mary shrugged.

"I mean, if they call me, sure."

But he was kind of hoping they would.

When the next issue came out weeks later, Mary stared at the cybergoth on the pages and felt himself deflate. Listlessly, he thumbed through the delicate print, barely skimming the section devoted to the World/Inferno Friendship Society’s set he’d been at the week before.

He set it down with a sigh before he picked up his guitar and plucked out a tune he was trying to coax into a riff.

By the time a Ben called again, Mary had given up the modeling thing as a one-off.

"Hey, dude—thought maybe you guys forgot about me," Mary said in a teasing tone.

The Ben on the other end chuckled.

"It’s like herding cats to get shit out. Nah, dude—we definitely want you to be one of our regulars. You in for next Saturday?"

He was.

***

Over the course of a year, "Heroes" had Mary come out multiple times for shoots. Mainly, Mary wore his own clothes and did his own makeup, but occasionally, Angelique wanted something specific.

"How comfortable are you with boudoir shots?"

"With what?"

"Like a pinup, but more…saucy than sexy."

I'd pose nude if you paid me enough.

(Sure, he was a noodle boy, but he knew he had the goods.)

"Yeah, I’m cool with that."

Angelique brightened at him.

"Great!"

She picked up a set of complicated leather garters and thrust them at him.

"Put these on."

Mary had only ever worn lace garters—mostly out to clubs, but occasionally under his ripped jeans for an extra pop—but he found he liked these even more, liked the way they emphasized his thighs.

"Hey—where’d you get these…?"

(He was already thinking of what he could pair them with for goth night.)

"Local leatherworker. He mostly does pieces for Renn Fairs, but he'll also do custom. I can give you his info."

She led Mary into what was clearly someone's bedroom.

"Don't fuck anything up, or Joye will never let us use this again."

Mary shot her his best shark smile.

"Hey, I only mess up the sheets if someone asks."

Angelique gave him a flat look and called for Greg.

(But when he draped himself over the bed and told Greg to "Paint me like one of your French girls," Mary could have sworn she almost smiled.)

On one memorable occasion, she brought in a guy whose rope bondage demo she watched at a sex convention.

"Put on some of that lingerie and we'll truss you up. You ok with that, Goore?"

Mary ran his fingers over the coils and gave her a wolfish smile.

"You know I'm game for anything."

She gave him a vulpine smile of her own then, and she looked down at him from the height of her platformed boots.

"Good. I thought you should be submissive for once."

Mary had no witty rejoinder for that.

He listened with interest as the guy carefully explained what he was going to do, complete with pictures, and he relaxed easily into the process. (They put bunny ears on him, and it would be much, much later that he got that particular joke. Well played, Angelique.)

The ropes hadn’t let him do much posing, but Mary had kind of liked the constriction, and his thoughts were already on asking Amber to help him create a more versatile version for fetish night.

He’d left that day with a new kink…and the guy’s number.

"Why not just do one big shoot?" he asked another time. "Get it all done in one big bang!"

Angelique held up his garments to eyeball over him.

"Honey, we never even know if there's gonna be a next issue. The Bens spend most of the time arguing. My god you should hear them—Ben bankrolls the whole thing, so he says he should get final say on shit, and Benji wants total artistic control because it was his idea, because 'he's the graphic designer', and because it's his Kinko's employee discount they use."

She gave Mary a curled-lip smile as she tossed a few items at him.

"In the end it's this bitch you're looking at who gets shit done."

Mary began to change (they were long past modesty).

"How'd you get involved?"

"Went to school with Benji."

"Ben too?"

"Neg. The Bens are childhood friends. Ben works some cushy start-up job, so Benji lets him bankroll them both. Rent, utilities—everything. I love Benji to death, but he's a giant mooch."

"Shit, that must be nice."

Angelique shrugged. She stood back to appraise Mary's look.

"It's fucking lame. But it least it gets us fucking paid."

Mary didn't say I'd do this for free. Instead, he struck a pose and said, "I'm just happy for the exposure."

Angelique rolled her eyes and went to fetch Greg.

***

That year and a half would become a nonstop party with Mary as one of the VIPs; he wouldn't say no to anything—be it casual sex, club appearances, or whatever drug the current pretty thing was offering him in the bathroom.

But recognition started slow.

At first, it was customers who would leaf through the zine and recognize Mary.

Then, it was the occasional scenester who’d stop him on the street in JP as he walked about, and Mary would pose for grainy cell phone pics.

Soon, he was being approached at shows and clubs. The first time it happened, Mary was high off his new infamy and ready to please. A woman in a black bandage bra and pleated skirt with bondage straps approached him, and Mary was already thinking of what he could do with those.

"You look like that guy in ‘Heroes’!" she'd shouted to him over the music.

Mary had flashed her a crooked smile and leaned in.

"Maybe I am the guy in ‘Heroes’."

She'd given him an exaggerated once over before sidling closer with hooded eyes.

"I dunno…you're wearing way more clothes."

Mary had pulled his mesh top down by the collar in a tease as he'd curled over her.

"Take me somewhere more private and I’ll let you do a comparison."

She'd compared him all night.

And that was before he and the other "Heroes" models formed their own posse.

The Bens had thrown a BBQ and had invited everyone they'd ever met. There were people packed into their little 2 bedroom in Brighton, spilling down the back stairs, and equally packed into the little square of shared backyard. Ben had taken the 12-pack of 'Gansett beers Mary had brought, then introduced him to the other dark models.

"Now you're all here!" said Ben. He slung his arm around Mary. "Guys, this is Mary. Mary this is Mayhem, Lesley, Lola, and Bryan."

Mayhem was a rivethead, and Mary took to him instantly, but he was wary of the others. Lesley was the cybergoth who'd been in the first issue after him, and Mary still felt a bit salty at them, even though Mary knew by now the Bens rotated the models. Lola, the romantic goth, reminded him enough of Vanity that he felt guilty for losing touch with her and had him projecting a little. Bryan was a metalhead, so: competition.

Mary had thought they'd get along like cats and water, but weed, booze, and "Never Have I Ever" went a long way to creating a shared bond.

And there it was again. That pull. The magnetic force telling him that he'd found the place he was supposed to be. They quickly coalesced into their own pack, calling themselves the "Deathbutantes" (because they always killed it when they debuted for the night).

It had been rare for Mary to miss Friday and Saturday night shenanigans with the Rocky crew, but now, every night was Friday night. There was always a show or a concert or club that one of them knew about—and if they couldn't get lucky with the local color, they'd just go home with each other.

Mayhem taught Mary what Lola jokingly called the "grab a bat" dance, and the two of them cut quite the picture on the dance floors.

Lesley took to Lola, and the two of them could always be counted on for scintillating conversation in dark corners when Mary's limbst needed a break from flailing about.

The clubs weren't really Bryan's scene—take him to a sticky hole in the wall with concrete floors and a stage close enough to feel the sweat from the bands, and he was in heaven—but he liked to come along to hang. He'd drink PBRs, rub Lola's feet when she invariably abandoned her heels for the evening, and argue with Mary about the purity of death metal.

Mayhem and Lola weren't really into live music of the screaming kind, so—while Lesley, Bryan, and Mary bounced off each other in the mosh pits—they'd save a "home" base at one the bartops.

Amber noticed Mary's diminishing presence and stopped by the record shop to call him out.

"So you're not dead! Could've fooled me."

Mary was organizing the albums into order, and he grunted at her.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm a cad. I'll make it up to you."

"You missed game night."

"Sorry. Jethro Tull played some tiny venue in nowhere Mass, and Bryan was salivating. I mean, Jethro Tull. Can you blame me?"

He looked at her, arms out wide in supplication. But she just blinked at him.

"You have no idea who Jethro Tull is, do you?"

"Sorry, dude. But christ, Mare. You should have invited me. I'd've gone. Maybe I would have even liked them. Now you'll never know."

"I could just lend you an album."

"Nope! The moment passed. Too late!"

Mary riffled through the stock and shoved a Jethro Tull CD into her hands.

She tapped it against her thigh.

"So, when do I get to hang?"

"I can get us into 80s night free."

"No, I mean, with your cooler friends. Your 'murder models', or whatever."

"You wanna hang out with the Deathbutantes?"

Amber scrunched her nose.

"That's so fucking pretentious."

Mary kind of liked it.

"Dunno if they're really your scene."

"Oh? And what's my scene?"

"Musical theater on crack."

She mock gasped at him, "Called out!" before smacking him with the CD. "Whatever. You love musical theater on crack."

Mary draped his arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah, I do. But I don't live it, you know? You guys have your niche—and fuck…I love to visit—but it's not mine."

Amber looked up at him, her expression serious.

"So the Dumbutantes are your niche?"

Mary shrugged and went back to shelving.

The Rocky crew had been good to him. They'd taken him under their wing, no questions asked, and helped him realize things about himself. Tim had taken him to the ER when Mary had come down with a serious case of the flu. Matty had taught him the basics of sewing. Gretchen had held him after a bad trip. Omar and he had had many drunken heart-to-hearts about their shitty home lives.

And Amber was his best friend. She'd been his #1 cheerleader for years and had never been afraid to call him out on his shit.

So yeah, he loved the Rocky crew…but they laughed at anyone who took anything too seriously. Mary would show up to game nights in his latest creation—with everyone else in pjs or jeans & hoodies—and they'd tease him about trying to impress the wrong people. He'd try to talk about the newest guitar god he'd been mainlining, and they'd make snoring noises at him.

How could he explain the kinship he felt with the Deathbutantes? That they were as serious about music as he was, that they just…got why he felt the need to dress the way he did to express the way he felt inside on his outside.

Instead, he said, "I'm just trying shit out, Ambs." He quirked his eyebrow at her. "I gotta do something while you guys do your real-person jobs."

(Amber had recently started as a junior marketing assistant at the American Repertory Theater. "Purely mercenary," she'd said. "Maybe it'll give me a leg up during auditions.")

She made a disgruntled scoffing noise in the back of her throat.

"Fuck, don't remind me. I actually gotta go to bed a reasonable hour now."

"Don't worry." Mary winked at her. "I'll keep ya honest."

"That sounds a lot like my head in a toilet, Mare."

"I'll hold your hair back."

She gave him a good-natured shove, and he pretended to cower.

If she wanted to cross pollinate, who was Mary to stand in her way? So, he invited her out the next time the Deathbutantes went to a show, and it went exactly like he thought it would.

They disliked her, and she was equally unimpressed. They thought she was too loud and frenetic, and she thought they had no sense of humor.

"I fucking told you," Mary had snorted as they sat on the curb sharing a clove.

"Shut the fuck up, Mare."

But she'd put her head on his shoulder.

"They make you happy, though. So I guess I approve. Just as long as I don't have to play nice."

Mary still hung out with the Rocky crew—there were still game nights and drug-fueled sex parties and theater games—but the Deathbutantes introduced him to the underground scene. They always seemed to have insider knowledge about the best up-in-coming bands and the secret shows. Theme nights at the goth clubs were always a must, and they rarely missed one. Sometimes, Angelique would crash, and they'd take the commuter rail to Providence to party at Club Hell before collapsing in a sweaty, smeary pile at a friend of a friend's hole in the wall.

As a bit player in the Rocky crew, Mary had been another made-up face in the crowd. As a certified member of the Deathbutantes, Mary became the face.

They all did.

The owners loved them because they bought round after round at the bar, and if word got out that the Deathbutantes were there, their admirers came to spend money as well. The employees loved them because they were fun and talked to them as equals. The clientele loved them because they were pretty young things.

Sometimes, though, Mary wasn't in the mood to party or get laid, so he talked to the DJs instead. He'd buy them rounds and stay past closing to help them pack up while they talked about the history of punk and 80s new wave and nu metal. There was one in particular, Dave, that Mary even considered a friend.

The two of them would sit in the club past closing, sharing a whiskey and talking about life while the bartenders closed down and cashed out. Occasionally, Dave's other friends would be around, and they'd all walk back to his place; he'd fool around spinning in his home studio, and they'd drink box wine as they danced and laughed before Mary would have to sit on the ground in an intoxicated exhaustion, good for only thumbing through Dave's vinyl collection.

Mary was just happy to talk shop with another music aficionado, but Angelique had pointed out that he should leverage his minor clout.

They'd been waiting for Greg to finish setting up, and Mary had been struggle city after a particularly hard night out. It was all he could manage to sit there quietly and hope some god would put him out of his misery.

"You need to get your shit together," Angelique had said out of nowhere.

Mary had cracked a puffy eye and had slowly (as to not bring the nothing in his stomach back up) turned his head to her.

"As if I haven't seen your melted ass on the floor wanting to die."

"Fuck, Mary. You've turned it into an art form."

He'd closed his eyes and given her the finger, but that hadn't stopped her.

"You wanna be a rockstar, boy? You can't just sit on your ass and hope the right person on the right night hears you. You're effervescent and charismatic—heads turn when you walk into a room and not just because of your skinny jeans—but you need more than air, Mary, which is all you are right now."

"Fuck you, Angela."

She'd clapped in front of his face, and she was lucky he didn't Exorcist bile all over her.

"You're a fucking pain in my ass, Goore. I'm doling out the good stuff, try not to bite my hand off, k?"

"All right, all right!"

"You wanna start that band? You wanna get play and amass fans? Well, make that demo you're always droning on about and give it to those DJs you're alway fanboying over. Fucking network, Goore."

At the time, Mary had been too hungover to care, but her advice would sink in…

Eventually.

For the time being, Mary was content. He loved the attention, and it made him feel invincible, made him feel like it was finally His Time. And he was going to make up for every slight, every unfair situation, and every beat down with sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll.

With his newfound nightlife, Mary's day job had become an afterthought. He started sleeping through opening shifts, but with the extra foot traffic Mary brought to the store, his boss seemed resigned to let Mary slide (after a stern talking to and a pay docking).

The shadow cast had started using him as a mascot of sorts, and he was happy to show up on Saturday nights and hype up the waiting line with a pseudo striptease. (Even if it was sometimes to kick off his evening with the Deathbutantes and not hang with the cast after.)

Mary started a band ("auditioning" any and all of the many admirers who said they’d be more than happy to join it), and after a few false starts and a couple of lineup changes, they began working on an EP. (At least, when Mary showed up to rehearsal, they did.)

A Boston Phoenix reporter got wind of the Deathbutantes and called around about doing a story on them. The Bens were excited about the exposure that meant for their zine, and Angelique and Greg were excited about what it could mean for their careers. Mary did a brief interview over the phone where he answered questions about his style and talked about his dream of making his band a household name.

Mary saw his name up in lights, and he was reaching for it, full speed ahead.

But then things turned.

The story fell through at the last minute with no further explanation or contact by the reporter.

His boss finally fired him after Mary showed up too high to function too many times—or not at all.

The shadow cast had a turnover, and suddenly he was old news—a cringey hanger-on.

A trip to the clinic and a round of antibiotics for an STI had him way more wary of who he hooked up with.

"Heroes" lost momentum when imitators popped up and Ben cut off the gravy train.

Angelique moved to NYC for "better opportunities," and the Bens took their brand of counterculture to Portland, OR.

Greg took down the website when he got offered a legit job as an apprentice at a food magazine, and that was that.

The physical zines were cheap things, most ending up papering the sidewalk after trash day or lining the bottom of cages. Without the online presence, did Mary's "modeling career" even exist?

Mary was a little sad to see the era go, but when he woke up in Maine on the hood of some girl's car and only a hazy recollection of how they'd gotten there, he was beginning to see Angelique's point. He needed to get his shit together if he was ever going to become a rockstar. And frankly, he kind of felt like he needed to spend an entire month eating carrots and hydrating.

The 24/7 party had always been an ephemeral thing; it had been sand passing through his hands in a finite amount as he'd tried to hold onto it

He put himself on detox, and waking up sober for the first time in months felt like a revelation. And as it turned out, playing the guitar without badly shaking hands was way, way easier.

He found another job in another music store, and his starter!band was bringing butts into the smaller venues, like Toad.

He still had his old Rocky friends and the Deathbutantes. The club and venue owners still let him in for free, and Dave was always happy to give his demos a spin. By anyone's else's measure, he was steal one of the scene's darlings.

But Mary was beginning to realize that he needed to stop seeing himself as that scared kid who’d arrived in Boston 4 years ago with only a backpack, $72.57 to his name, and void where his family should be.

He needed to stop finding people to please into loving him.

Instead, he needed to live for himself and let them love him for who he was—fuck ups and all.

@slimylayne

Epilogue

"Honestly, that’s probably the reason I even got a band together," he says. "I was still kind of shit at guitar, but people came to see ‘Model Mary’ perform in his underwear."

He shoots me a smirk.

"I’m sure there’re pictures out there of me looking more glam than metal. I kind of played up the whole pinup thing for a while."

"Fuck, I would kill, literally kill to see that."

He pulls me into his lap until I’m straddling him.

"I could open up my underwear drawer and show you right now."

"Goore, you temptress."

I lean down to kiss him, and his hands sneak under my shirt, but I pull away again.

"I kinda thought I knew all your torrid secrets by now. Shit, how come Dave's never needled you about it?"

After 2 years with him, I’m surprised I hadn't even heard a peep from his oldest friend.

Mary snorts.

"Dave would miss shit hanging off his nose. Great dude, amiable as fuck, but he's always had fucking tunnel vision for his music."

I smirk at him.

"Sounds like someone else I know."

Mary pulls a face at me, and I apply kisses to every line until he laughs and bats me away.

"But really, Mare—how come you never told me about your brief career in blue steel?"

He blows out a breath, his hands smoothing up my thighs.

"Fuck. Cuz maybe I was a little embarrassed at how off the rails I was then, ok? Didn't want you to know what I fuck up I was." He takes my hand and kisses my palm. "And even I know it's a shit move to pitch woo at someone by telling them about banging half of Boston."

I make a face at him, and he laughs.

"Yeah, that’s what I thought."

His hands rest on my waist.

"Christ, everything about that year's a bit fuzzy, and it was like 10 years ago. Sometimes it feels like it happened to someone else, honestly. And shit—most of those people aren’t even around anymore. College kids who moved on and 20-somethings that grew up and moved who knows where. I used to watch Amber have—what is it when it’s four people?—and now she lives in bumblefuck Pennsylvania with 3 kids. After she left, I just kinda drifted away from all that."

He shrugs, his eyes downcast.

"I’m sorry, Mare," I say as I smooth his eyebrows.

He shrugs again.

"I mean, we all kinda keep in touch. It's like the only reason I have Facebook."

"When was the last time you even signed into that?"

Mary grins at me.

"Lola's birthday."

"One of the models? What happened with them?"

Mary bites his lip and thinks.

"Mayhem found religion after an OD and kinda ghosted everyone. Lesley followed a girl to New Hampshire. Uh…Lola pursued a PhD for something sciencey involving renewable energy with sugar beets in Idaho, and Bryan moved back to Florida to care for his grandma, who raised him."

Mary leans his head back on the couch and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"I mean, shit. We were fucking babies back then. Head empty except for a good time and unlimited potential."

I run my fingers through his hair.

"You miss it?"

His eyes pop open to look at me.

"Fuck no. Not for a million dollars. Too many question marks." His eyes glint as he runs his hands down me. "I like what I got going on right here."

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and kiss his forehead. The fucking sap.

Mary picks up my phone and scrolls through the pictures again.

"Fuck. I used to be goddamn adorable, though. Half this shit wouldn’t even fit me anymore."

I squish his little potbelly, and he grunts at me indignantly.

"Do you still have any originals?" I ask.

He shakes his head, his eyes wistful and his smile sad.

"Nah. Got destroyed when my roof collapsed and leaked everywhere. Fuck, landlords are useless. Glad we fucking own now, babe."

He scrolls up, scrolls back down.

"Just these four?"

I nod.

"Yeah. They were the only ones I found—and I did a lot of searching."

"Christ, I think there were at least 10."

I smile ruefully at him. "It’s not gonna be long anyway before they make their way into the popular tags and shit starts coming out of the woodwork."

He tosses my phone onto the table.

"Whatever. Just shows that I’ve always been cool."

And then he’s kissing me again, his hand tangling in my hair.

"You know, I’m your family now, Mare. Just for you."

He brings my hand up and kisses it.

"Fuck, I know that. Why’dja think I put a ring on it?"

[tangledstarlight]

days go by and seasons change (lets try again next winter)

julie's ready for a year away from home, studying and trying to refind the magic in music. luke's about to start on a summer tour around europe opening for a band. they meet one night, sparks fly and emotions run hight. now they've just got to try and see if they can maintain a long distance friendship.

ok hello hi so this is my wild ride of a fic that i’m working on, a scene (much later on) came to me in a dream, and much like how smeyer wrote twilight, i just had to find out how they got there fhbdj there’s some drinking which would be classed as underage in the us but is legal in the uk which is where it’s set so 

trigger warnings!! alcohol and swearing

also on ao3 –– [ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | extras 1 & 2 ]

winter

There was a line almost outside the door for the coffee shop, people wanting something to warm them up or just to avoid the sudden downpour of rain. Julie had been in England for just over a month now and she still wasn’t used to the randomly changing weather, how were you supposed to plan an outfit for the day if it started mildly sunny and ended in a thunderstorm? It was January! She had come prepared for snow, not rain, damn it.

From her table in the back corner of the cafe, hands wrapped around a mug and headphones blaring music, Julie people watched. Sure, she was supposed to be working on an essay, but she’d been there for half an hour already. She deserved a little break.

Even through her music she can hear the sounds of the cafe around her. Customers placing orders and rain on the windows and cups hitting tables and people laughing and it’s comforting. The sounds of life going on around her while she pretends to be doing work.

Pretends, because she’s been trying to work on this essay for a week now and getting nowhere with it.

When she’d signed up for the study abroad scheme her mind had been on experiencing a new country, on the places she could visit, the new friends she could make, the thoughtful looks she could escape.

She hadn’t thought much about the work she would have to do, the essays that would need to be written, the awkwardness of settling into a new place, the strangeness of hearing new accents.

The actual creative side of her course she found easy enough, but when it came to writing about her stylistic choices and her themes and her influences and how they all tied back with what they’d been reading about? She was drawing a blank.

Blowing on her drink, Julie let her eyes wander around the coffee shop. It was a fairly small place with an extensive collection of teas and fresh baked cakes and free wifi. She’d found it by mistake while looking for a music shop her first week in the city, they’d lured her in with carrot cake and coffee and she’d been coming back at least once a week ever since. A group of boys push through the door, shaking off hoods and laughing at something as they join the queue.

Something about them seemed vaguely familiar, like she’d seen them from a distance in a dark club, or scrolled past a group photo of them on her instagram suggested posts. Or maybe it was because they just looked like every other group of young adults she’d come across, both back home and in Liverpool. One thing she had learnt pretty quickly was that boys were the same everywhere.

She was saved from mulling it over by her phone vibrating on the table with a text, Carrie’s name popping up on the screen and Julie swapped her cup for her phone, a small smile already tugging at her lips as she read the series of texts on her screen.

Julie’s attention is dragged away from her phone by something – someone – knocking into her table, sending her pen rolling off and her cup to shake. Pulling her headphones out of her ears she looks up as the culprits eyes widen, mouth pulling into a grimace as he stares at the coffee now running down the back of her jacket that had been happily sitting in the spare chair.

“Shit,” he mutters, already pulling a napkin out of his back pocket and dabbing at the mess. “I’m so sorry, I uh– wasn’t looking and the chair leg and fuck I’m so sorry about your jacket, can it be dry cleaned?”

And he looks so sincere in his apology, all wide sad eyes and words stumbling out too quickly and messy brown hair curling out from under a beanie and accent that sounds like home, that Julie swallows back the annoyed retort she had ready to go.

It was just an accident. Accidents happened. At least it wasn’t over her laptop. Blowing out a breath, Julie shakes her head at him once, pushing back her chair to inspect the damage.

“It’s fine, honestly. Don’t–” she pauses, holding up the denim on either side of the collar and frowning at the pretty large brown stain. “Worry about it.”

Can she wash it? She’s never tried, but well. She bites her lip as she looks at it, the stranger awkwardly standing just a short distance away with a wad of used napkins and his half spilt drink, and yeah, she definitely won't be able to wear it tonight.

“I’m so sorry.” He says again and someone must catch his attention over her shoulder because his eyes dart away from her, eyebrows shooting up and shrugging his shoulders and, it’s kinda cute. The way he seems to be hovering, unsure if she’s going to shout at him.

“Seriously, it’s fine. Accidents happen, right?” She shoots him a quick smile – though not missing the way his cheeks turn slightly pink – before turning back to her jacket, carefully laying it out on the chair to hopefully dry out enough for her to stuff it in her bag before she needs to leave. She really hopes it stops raining.

“I uh– shit I’m sorry. Again. I gotta–” He gestures to the door where Julie can see his friends waiting for him, barely contained grins on all their faces that has Julie rolling her eyes. Boys. She looks back at him, raising an eyebrow even as her lips tick up into a small smile, she’s rewarded by his cheeks going red, the hand still holding the napkins rubbing at the back of his neck and a stuttered ‘goodbye’.

Sitting back down, Julie rolls her eyes again, muttering under her breath about ‘annoying cute boys’ and ‘favourite jackets’. Leaning down to pick up her fallen pen with one hand while the other tapped out a reply to Carrie. An hour more of sitting here, attempting to do her essay and then she’d have to go if she wanted enough time to get ready.

\\

“So where are you?”

Julie couldn’t hear what was being said on the other side of the phone, but judging by the way Carrie was rolling her eyes the answer wasn’t correct. Flynn leans her head on Julie’s shoulder, their linked arms drawing them closer as they walk, it’s not the most comfortable way to walk, but they’ve already had a few drinks and Flynn gets a little clingy after one. Julie puts her head on top of Flynns as they stumble along cracked stone streets.

“She actually might end up killing Bobby at this rate,” Julie mutters and is rewarded with Flynn letting out a laugh that has Carrie looking over her shoulder at them, eyes softening for a moment before she’s rolling them again. If she hadn’t known the other girl as long as she had, Julie would be worried about permanent eye damage.

“Fucking hell. Okay. Yeah, okay we’ll be like, ten minutes then. Yeah, yeah, okay bye.”

Sliding her phone into her back pocket Carrie took a half step back so she was walking with them again, linking her arm on Flynns other side.

“They’re at the Cavern Club,” Carrie looks at Julie over the top of Flynn’s head and lets out a loud sigh, “I know. That’s where we were going to go anyway. They’re so annoying.”

But she says it in a fond sort of way. Like how you talk about your neighbour's dog that barks too early in the morning and wakes you up, but always runs over to say hello to you through the fence when you walk past and brightens up your day. Annoying, but sweet.

Julie’s only met Carrie’s cousin Bobby once, it had been a short ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ type interaction as he ran into Carrie’s house to pick up his bag and then run straight back out again.

She’s never met the other three members of the band at all, but she knows, after doing a little bit of internet searching, that their band isn’t half bad. They’ve got some pretty good songs and a small following that she is sure is bound to get bigger by the time they’ve finished being the opener for whoever they’re touring with and their first album is out in the world.

The three of them flash their id’s to the security on the door, slightly giddy smiles on all their faces even now, still not used to it all being legal for them to drink under the age of twenty-one. But the security guy doesn’t even blink and then they’re walking down a flight of stairs, the air getting warmer and the sound of drums and guitars reaching them.

Carrie grabs hold of Flynn's hand and Flynn grabs a hold of Julies and then they’re weaving through people and avoiding knocking drinks out of hands.

Her attention is pulled from the crowd to the stage at the back of the room, a band playing a cover of something she can’t name, they don’t sound too bad, and the part of her that used to fall in love with music every time she heard it wants to stop and listen. But that part of her is small and quiet and shy now, so she keeps her grip on Flynn’s hand and follows along.

Julie doesn’t know how Carrie knows where she’s going but all of a sudden they’re coming to a stop, her free hand reaching out to balance herself on Flynn’s shoulder even as a small part of her is still trying to work out what the song is.

Turning her eyes away from the stage she looks at the five boys sitting at the table, a collection of bottles scattered across the wood, and Julie smiles at Bobby who’s standing up to hug Carrie, opens her mouth to say hello before stopping. Her brows furrow as she locks eyes with a shaggy haired brunette who’s own eyes are widening in realisation.

“You!” She blurts out before she can stop herself, and if anyone asks she would blame it on the three drinks she had before leaving the dorms, detangling her fingers from Flynn’s to point at him. With the music blaring so loud only the boys still sat at the table and Flynn heard her, the latter turning to raise her brows while Julie can see the boys trying not to laugh.

“He’s the guy who spilt coffee on my jacket earlier,” she shouts over the music, hand gesturing wildly at the table and Flynn follows her hand, eyes resting on the culprit.

“That was her favourite jacket!” Flynn props one hand on her hip and almost glares at him, but it loses part of its ‘scare factor’ when she starts swaying a little in place to the music. Well, Julie thinks it should lose some of it’s scaring power, but the guy still looks kinda worried, so who’s Julie to know?

“I said I was sorry!” He puts his hands up, shoulder raising to almost his ears, and with his eyes already open so wide and his hair curling slightly at the ends, Julie has to wonder how much trouble that look has gotten him out of over the years.

“You guys have already met?” Bobby jumps into the conversation before Julie has a chance to reply and Carrie is looking between them, lips pursed.

“This is the girl whose jacket Luke ruined earlier,” the blonde one says and Julie vaguely recognises him as being one of the boys from the cafe.

“Dude,” Bobby raises his eyebrows at the jacket ruiner – Luke, Julie reminds herself – shaking his head in disappointment.

“It was an accident!” Luke turns his sad kicked puppy look on Bobby before looking back at Julie, his hands lowering but his eyes still drastically wide, “I really am sorry about it.”

Julie tries, she really does, to hold on to that small kindle of annoyance that she’d felt upon seeing him again. But well, the jacket is already ruined and she’s come out to avoid doing an essay and she’s finding it really hard to be mad at someone so cute. Blowing out a breath she shakes her head at him.

“It’s fine, I’ll forgive and forget the whole thing if you buy me a drink.”

“That I can do,” the furrow in his brows smooths out and his shoulders relax and suddenly there’s a smile spreading across his face that seems to light up his eyes.

“So, you’ve met Luke. That’s Reggie, he’s our bassist,” Bobby nods at the dark haired guy sitting next to Luke who grins and waves, and it’s such an infectiously happy wave that Julie can't help but wave back. “Alex, kickass drummer,” the blonde who spoke earlier ducks his head a little, an almost shy smile on his face as he nods at them, “And Willie. Officially he’s one of our roadies, unofficially he’s just here to hype us up and do cool tricks in empty arenas.” Willie, who’s sat pressed against Alex’s side, raises his hand in a wave.

“This is Julie and this is Flynn,” Carrie points at them each before claiming the seat next to Alex and looking at Luke, “We’ll take 3 vodka lemonades. Please.” She only adds the please on the end after Flynn sits next to her, nudging her elbow into her side, Julie notices with a smile.

There’s a moment of bodies moving as Luke gets up from his side of the table, pulling Bobby along with him towards the bar and Reggie is waving his hand at her, nodding at the empty space along the bench next to him that she slides into gratefully.

They can’t really see the stage set up from here, but the music is still just as loud and Julie starts nodding her head along to the beat, trying to focus on the conversation happening on the other side of the table. Something about Carrie’s group and choreography and convincing someone to add in a dance break to a song. She’s laughing at something Willie said when a glass is slid across the table in front of her, a bottle of something passing over her to Reggie and she looks up in time to see Luke sliding into the space next to her, a small smile on his face.

“Forgiven and forgotten?” He asks, eyebrow quirked as he lifts his own drink, tilting it towards her in invitation.

“Forgiven and forgotten,” she agrees picking her glass up and tapping it against his beer bottle, shooting him a smile of her own before chasing the straw of her drink to take a sip, trying hard not to blush at the intensity of his stare.

//

It’s two hours later, three drinks and a deeply regrettable shot later, happily on the precipice of truly drunk but hanging out in tipsy land, when Julie shakes her head at Luke who’s standing on the bench. Tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration as he writes on the curved brick of the ceiling.

“Dude no ones gonna be able to even read that!” Reggie complains from next to her, his eyes squinting as if it will help him to read their names better. It doesn’t, Julie’s already tried.

“Why did we let the one with the worst handwriting do this?” Alex tilts his head to look up at Luke, who waves the hand not holding the pen in his face, almost hitting him but missing by several inches to the left and it sets them all off giggling.

“Because the rest of you are cowards!” He wobbles a little as he shuffles his feet to change angle, and Julie reaches out on instinct to hold his leg, fingers wrapping around his calf as if it will stop him from falling. His head drops down to look at her, teeth biting his bottom lip as he smiles at her quickly before going back to the ceiling.

To leave his – their – mark on a legendary musical site. Luke's words, the rest of them hadn’t been able to talk him out of it so they’d gone right into encouraging.

“I think you’re getting cowards and idiots mixed up,” Carrie mutters, head propped up on her hands, elbows resting on the table. Well, Reggie and Julie and Willie had gone straight to encouraging, the others were still on teasing.

“Do you want your name added or not?” Luke grumbles but Julie can see his pen moving, going over the letters of what she assumes is meant to be Dirty Candi, and bites her cheek to not laugh.

“Don’t forget it’s an ‘i’ instead of ‘y’ for candy!” Flynn leans forward, eyes on the ceiling as she shouts up at him and Luke says something, but it’s too quiet for any of them to hear.

It isn’t until he moves to get off the bench that Julie realises she still has her hand wrapped around his calf, her fingers idly tapping along to the song some guy with a guitar is playing behind them. Heat fills her cheeks (that she’ll blame on how warm it is in the club and the alcohol in her system thank you very much) as she lets go, pulling her hand back into her lap, watching from the corner of her eye as he jumps down and back into his seat, a proud smile on his face.

“Now when we’re big and famous people can come and hunt our names down.”

“And finally realise that you have awful writing and question how any of our songs get written,” Bobby grins at him, elbow nudging his side which sends Luke leaning into her to try and avoid it, sliding along the bench until there’s no space between them, and she can’t find it in herself to be too mad about it. He smells like tequila and mint and aftershave all mixed together, not really a good combination, but one she finds herself liking anyway.

“Well why don’t you start writing the songs, huh?” Luke retorts, and starts a back and forth with Bobby, Alex chiming in and Flynn watching it all like a tennis match, and Juile tries to follow it, but all she can think about is how Luke hasn’t moved back. How his thigh is pressed against her leg and his arm is resting around her back, hand near her hip and how if she wanted to, she could rest her chin on his shoulder and kiss his neck.

Not that she wants to kiss his neck. Does she?

Julie furrows her brows, biting her lip as she examines those thoughts, tries to decide if it’s the alcohol or the music or her lack of sleep or if she just wants to kiss him.

Flynn says something and it makes him laugh, loud and bright and unrestrained, head thrown back and eyes closed. And yeah, she just wants to kiss him. Fuck.

//

Reggie slings an arm around her shoulders, the other going over Flynns and tugging them together until their cheeks are all pushing together and Julie giggles, poking at his side with her partially trapped arm.

“What do we think chocolate tequila is like?” He asks, eyes glued to the chalkboard menu above them.

“Not as nice as the summer fruits one,” Julie says back, wrinkling her nose a little at the memory of when she’d tried it. If you liked chocolate, it was a bitter disappointment in her opinion. But she was also drunk enough now not to mind.

“Alex says we can’t get the coffee one. Thinks we’ll have a repeat of the red bull incident.” Luke appears on her other side, pushing his body into the small gap between her side and the next group of people. He’s stood so he’s facing her – them – and rests one arm on the counter top.

“Man he’s gotta get over that, it was one time,” Reggie mutters and Julie wants to ask what the ‘red bull incident’ is, but then Flynn is sliding three shot glasses towards them, salt and limes following, apparently having ordered without any of them noticing.

“We’re standing with mango!” Flynn shouts, shot already in one hand and salt on the other, clearly waiting for the three of them to catch up. Reggie lowers his arms and Julie can feel Luke’s hand brush past her arm as he moves to lick the back of his hand, she can feel herself flushing as she watches him do it. And is happy to note that he flushes just the same as he watches her lick her hand in turn.

Idly, Julie notices that Reggie counts them down, that Luke inclines his head at her before he lifts his shot to his lips, that Julie lifts her own, the liquid sliding down her throat with a slight burn that’s not eased at all by the lime she bites into. She squeezes her eyes shut against it and when she opens them sees Luke grinning at her, eyes full of something she can’t name but makes her want to blush again.

“Y’know what? Screw Alex, four of the coffee my good man!” Reggie shouts next to her, waving a hand at the bartender in front of them who just rolls their eyes but puts out four more shot glasses.

“Okay, you gotta tell us about the red bull incident,” Flynn finally asks what had been nibbling at the back of her mind from the moment Luke had spoken so she pulls her attention away from him and back to her friends as Reggie launches into his story that even grabs the attention of the bartender for a moment.

But Luke is a warm presence at her side, leaning into her space and breath ghosting against her neck as he chimes in the story. If she stepped back, just a little, she could lean her back against his chest. She wonders if he’d wrap an arm around her waist to hold her steady? Julie blinks and blows out a breath, raising an eyebrow as Reggie talks.

“Wait, how’d you get onto the roof?”

//

“So why Liverpool?” Luke asks, hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat as they aimlessly walk through almost empty streets, faint music coming from clubs and other drunk people giggling in doorways. The fresh air has helped a little to sober her up, but not enough for her to know where they’re going. But they’re following Carrie, who has a plan for the night and they’ve no option but to follow it.

Julie wraps one arm around herself, the other pushing hair over one shoulder as she thinks about it. There isn’t really a big fancy answer, no special reason for her choice, she shrugs at Luke, lips ticking up into a smile.

“It was the only place still with spots open,” she can see the slight confusion on his face and explains more, “I wasn’t going to take the study abroad year, but I changed majors and I needed to get away from home for a while. Carrie and Flynn had already signed up and the internet said the train didn’t take too long to get to Manchester or Glasgow.”

“You changed majors?”

Of all the things she’s said that hadn’t been the part she’d thought Luke would zone in on. It wasn’t really something she liked to talk about much, her fall away from music. She still loved it, still listened and wrote and sang, but the passion she’d once had, the magic she’d once felt whenever she sat at a piano? It had gone away. Had been gone for a long time. Had been gone for four years and she’d only been pretending she still felt the magic.

Everything she played or wrote was missing something and no one had seemed to notice but here.

It hadn’t been until one of her teachers in first year had pointed something out that Julie had finally confessed. And changed course and major the next week.

Everyone had tried to understand, had listened as she explained why she couldn’t do it. How her mom and music were so intertwined together in her head and her heart that it felt impossible to detangle them, to love and play music without always feeling like there was something missing. But she knew they didn’t really get it

So she’d signed up for the study abroad, and picked Liverpool because they had a good English Lit course and was close enough to her friends if she needed them. Okay, so maybe she’d lied a little, there was a fancy answer for why she’d moved, but picking Liverpool had just been random.

“Yup,” she pops the ‘p’ and glances ahead of them, where Willie has Alex clinging on to his back, running through a puddle and laughing loud and clear. She can’t help but smile at them, at the carefree way Willie spins around and Alex holds tighter, face red with whatever he’s trying to say between laughs. Luke must follow her gaze because he lets out a soft snort of laughter, and she can see him shake his head from the corner of her eye.

“I’d hate them if they weren’t so adorable together,” he muttered, but his gaze is soft as they both watch the couple; Willie lets Alex off his back and grabs hold of his hand before he had a chance to get too far away. They’re all soft eyes and teasing smiles and vibes that scream about being in love, you’d have to be blind not to see it. Julie looks away, feeling like she’s intruding on a private moment as they share a kiss.

“Tell me about the tour,” Julie says, drawing Lukes attention back to her and it’s the right thing to say because his face lights up with a smile that she’s sure is going to drive girls wild one day soon.

//

Julie nods along with the song blaring through the speakers, mouthing the words so herself as she scrolls through her phone, ignoring the press of bodies crowding the smoking area as best she can. From her spot near the wall, opposite the door, she can see Carrie and Willie and Alex dancing together, wide smiles and heads thrown back.

Flynn and Reggie are talking to a group of people off to the side and Julie can see the way Flynn has pulled her braids over one shoulder and is gesturing to Reggie every few words the way she does when she’s trying to hype someone up (she knows, from having been on the receiving end of it, many times). Bobby, standing with them, seems to find the whole thing hilarious, grinning around the cigarette hanging from his lips.

“Okay, favourite book?” Luke asks, leaning in close to be heard over the noise and if he doesn’t move back, well Julie’s not about to complain. The little space heaters on the wall don’t provide much warmth, and it’s January and she’s cold and someone ruined her jacket.

“Currently or of all time?” She asks, raising an eyebrow as she turns her head a little to look at him. Her heart stutters for a second at how close his face is to hers, she can see the small flecks of green in his eyes, can feel his breath ghost across her cheeks.

“Current,” he says and she can see as his eyes flicker down to her lips quickly before back up to her eyes and Julie really hopes she’s not blushing right now.

“Stardust. By Neil Gaiman. I’m reading it for one of my classes and it hits all the boxes for a fairytale.” She likes fairy tales, likes the idea of them, likes the message of true love and pure of heart and happily ever afters. This one just happened to involve lightning pirates which was a bonus. Okay, so maybe the lightning pirates were mostly a film detail, but still. “Favourite food?”

“There’s this little hole in the wall place down by the strip? They do the best cheeseburgers. If I could have one for every meal, I would.”

They’re still standing close together, eyes staring too intensely for a game of twenty questions and comments about cheeseburgers and Julie’s eyes flicker to his lips, can see the way they’re pulling up a little on one side. She wants to lean forwards, close the gap between them and press her lips against his. But then she shivers, shoulders hunching up around her ears as she rubs her bare arms, conscious of how close they’re sitting and how much she just kind of wants to steal his body heat.

“Are you cold?” He’s biting his lip, pulling back out of her personal space and Julie almost whines at the loss of contact and body heat and – well maybe she’s too drunk to be making smart choices right now if she’s five seconds away from whining.

“Well someone ruined my jacket,” she points out, eyebrows raised at him and is rewarded with his cheeks flushing and one hand rubbing at the back of his neck which she’s quickly coming to realise means he’s embarrassed or just a little flustered.

“I thought we’d agreed to forgive and forget about that?” He mumbles and before she can come up with a response Luke is standing up, shrugging his jacket off his shoulders and then he’s carefully draping it over her shoulders, fingers tapping lightly on her arm until she holds it out for him to slip through one arm hole, doing the same on the other side and then pulling her hair out from under the collar.

It’s too big on her, but the faux fur inside is soft on her skin and still warm from Luke and she can stick her thumbs through the little gaps created by the fastened buttons and if she turned her head a little she could smell his aftershave clinging to the collar. Julie can’t help the little smile that graces her face, rotating her shoulders to let the coat settle better on her body.

Looking up at him her brows furrow a little at the look on his face (if she wasn’t so drunk and giddy and tired she’d say it was something like awe but that made no sense. Why would Luke be looking at her in awe while she wore his jacket?), but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared and he’s smiling at her, that wide smile from back at the start of the night when he’d handed her her drink and she’d tapped it against his.

“Thanks,” she tilts her head to the side, loose curls falling across her cheeks as she looks at him, a wide smile of her own and she opens her mouth to say something else – though she’s not sure what she’s going to say – when another voice cuts through and pops the little bubble they’ve created.

When did they even create their private conversation bubble? Julie doesn’t know, and from the way Luke’s head whips around to land on Flynn and Reggie and Bobby with wide eyes, he probably doesn’t know either. But it’s nice to know that he’d been enjoying their conversation as much as she had.

“We’re gonna get food, come on!”

//

“I wanted to be wrapped up in bed an hour ago,” Julie sighed but there’s no real annoyance in her tone as she hugs Luke’s jacket closed tight across her chest, shoulder brushing against his arm as they walk.

“But you also wanted pizza instead of McDonalds like everyone else.” And Luke has a point but she still pulls a face, sticking her tongue out at him and getting a laugh in return. She couldn’t even be annoyed at it, he had a nice laugh.

Plus, when she’d said she wanted pizza Luke was the only one who’d wanted to come with her, the rest of their friends going back to their hotels. He’d walked all the way to the takeaway with her, shared half of his chips and then started walking her back to her dorm, insisting on carrying her half eaten pizza too. It was all very sweet and kind and not helping her not want to kiss him.

“Where’s your first stop?” She asks, because he was about to start a tour and she had school and maybe if they were both back home they might have been able to give something a go, but they weren’t and Julie wasn’t really a one night stand kind of person.

“We’re heading up to Newcastle on Sunday to kick it all off,” there was a slight bounce in his step, his excitement almost palpable and Julie could tell that this was all he’d ever wanted. To play music to as many people as he could. A small part of her remembered what that was like, to want to share your songs with the world.

“Sing something!” She pulled him to a stop in the middle of the street, bouncing a little on the balls on her feet and grinning at him. Because she was still a little drunk and she missed feeling excited about playing music and here was this sweet charming guy who loved it so much and felt it with everything he had and Julie wanted to be like that again too. She wanted to think about music without it being tinged with sadness.

“What?” He laughed, eyes a little wide and glassy and with his hair looking more wild then it had when they’d started the night, but Julie was pretty sure she looked the same so she didn’t comment.

“Sing! Anything! Please?” Julie tried pouting at him, doing her best impression of Carlos and his puppy dog eyes and something about it must have worked because Luke huffs out a laugh as he looks at her, biting his lip in thought for a moment before he nods his head for them to keep walking before he starts singing.

His voice is a little rough, from screaming lyrics in the clubs and shouting to be heard in the bars, and his words are a little slurred because he’s a little drunk and a lot tired, but Julie’s sober enough to decide it’s one of the best versions of Mamma Mia she’s ever heard. As he gets to the first chorus she joins in.

They were just two slightly drunk young adults, singing in the street and if nothing else comes of his night she’ll always have this memory of unadulterated joy.

“You can sing,” he whispers and now it’s Luke’s turn to pull her to a stop with a hand on her arm and a look of wonder on his face. Julie shrugs a little and can feel her cheeks heating, but she keeps their eye contact and smiles at him.

“Only drunk in the streets.” Which is more true then he’ll ever know.

Luke opens his mouth to say something but she cuts him off by pointing over his shoulder at the building behind them.

“This is me.” She’s not sure what to do now, take her pizza and run? That seems a little rude, and unsafe. Julie’s not sure she can actually run in these shoes without falling. Luke looks over his shoulder quickly before looking back at her, blowing out a breath and nodding.

“Right, right.” He seems just as unsure as she is about what to do now, which makes Julie feel a little better about it.

“I should–”

“Can I–”

They both start at the same time and then Julie is laughing and Luke is huffing out a breath while a smile grows on his face. The only thing between them is a pizza box and she doesn’t miss the way his eyes keep flickering down to her lips.

“I can’t kiss you!” She blurts out, a hand quickly going up to cover her mouth and Luke’s eyes widen, taking a half step back, retracting his hand like he’d been burnt.

“That wasn’t– I– this–” Luke started stuttering, face going red and Julie quickly shook her head at him.

“That came out wrong! Fuck. I–” She curled her hands into fists at her sides, squeezing her eyes shut before opening them, “I want to kiss you, but I can’t.”

The shock on his face had softened at the start of her sentence only to morph into confusion at the end.

“You’re gonna have to explain this to me, Molina.” Luke still looks confused, but he’s still standing in front of her and that’s enough for her.

“I like you,” she dips her head as she says it, because Julie’s pretty sure she could really like him if given the chance, “but I’m no good at one night...things and you’re about to go on a tour and I’m stuck here and I just, I think– I think I’d like us to be friends. I think we could be really good friends actually.”

Because they’d only spent a few hours together and she’d laughed and smiled more in that time then she had in awhile. Luke was sweet and funny and had something to say about every song the DJ picked to play but sang along anyway. Which is why she doesn’t want to risk a friendship for one night in bed. The confusion on Luke’s face turns into understanding and the soft, slightly sad smile that he gives her tells Julie that she’s right. A friendship with him would be better than one really fun night.

“I get it,” and he carefully puts his hand back on her arm, squeezing slightly before pulling away. “And, for the record, I’m not very good at one night things either.”

Her heart beat sounds loud in her ears and it takes Julie a moment to refocus her thoughts. Friendship. No kissing. Friendship.

“Well, maybe if we can keep a friendship going until we next see each other we can try this moment again,” she waves her hand around them with a small laugh. They could probably keep a friendship going long distance, but Julie isn’t so sure that they’ll ever get a moment like this again.

“Deal,” Luke grins down at her and pulls his phone out of his back pocket and unlocks it, Julie raises her eyebrows at him when he holds it out for her, “In order to keep in touch we’re gonna need to exchange numbers.”

“You make a point,” she agrees, putting in her information and handing it back to him in exchange for her pizza box. “Text me when you get back to your hotel, okay? So I know you didn’t get lost.”

“Yes, boss.” His smile is a little teasing now and Julie shakes her head at him as she brushes past him to walk into her dorm. She’s half way across the road when stops in her tracks to turn back at him.

“Wait, I’m still wearing your jacket.” Julie stars to shrug the item off when Luke shakes his head, already starting to walking backwards down the street.

“No, keep it!” He shouts with a smile, “Means we’ll have a reason to see each other again and have another go at this.”

Julie just shakes her head at him with a laugh, watching as he walks away before tightening her grip on the box and finally making it into her dorm. She’s still got an essay to write and a pile of laundry to put away and magic in music is still missing, but she’s gotten herself a new jacket and a friend who she thinks could make her life a little brighter. So she’ll forgive and forget that she's home an hour later than promised.

[hisunshiine]

Escape ✈︎ Chapter 4

✈︎ chapter 4: you have been cordially invited... |✈︎ Escape Series—18+, Mature     

   ✈︎ genre: fluff, future smut

   ✈︎ word count: 2,736 words 

   ✈︎ pairing: jungkook x [redacted] (at the very end)

   ✈︎ warnings: alcohol consumption

   ✈︎ summary: A look into what it's like arriving to Bangtania...

| series masterlist | previous | next | hisunshiine | mrsparkjimin18 |

Everyday, since the very beginning when it was announced, you have sat at your computer or been on your phone in order to participate in the giveaway for a chance to go to Bangtania Island. Every week, one lucky person has a chance to win an exclusive invitation from the girls who organized it, all expenses paid for them to relocate out there.  

Friday couldn’t have come soon enough; your job was draining. A typical 9-5, doing office work was monotonous and you slogged through the week waiting for your weekends to come. Despite the wish to find something else, nobody was hiring in your city. Not for anything you wanted to do, anyways. Deep in your gut you felt the need for something more, instead of the repetitious clacking of your fingers against the keyboard, answering the phones, and feeling like a machine.

Fortunately, it’s the weekend, so you decide to stop and grab a bottle of wine and make your way home. You’re ready to unwind with some youtube videos and spend time browsing your social media for anything interesting. You pour a glass of wine and relax on the sofa, open your laptop and log in to twitter. You have a few notifications, including an update from the giveaway page, they had posted there was another winner chosen and that the winner would receive an email shortly.

“That was 30 minutes ago!?” You squeal to yourself, an unexplainable feeling creeping over you.

Just then your phone chimes, and you unlock the screen to check your notifications. You have multiple email notifications, so you check your email app as you sip your wine. Scrolling through them, it’s mainly junk mail, you see one that catches your eye.

Sender Name: Bangtania Island Mayor

Subject: You have been cordially invited…

Y/N,

Congratulations! You have been selected as the next lucky winner to be invited to Bangtania Island. In order to accept this invitation, please click on the link and fill out the application. Documents you may need to gather prior to completing the forms in the link are:

Driver’s License

Social Security Card

Passport

Please make sure to include the earliest date for you to travel, and please have your physical completed prior to boarding the plane. All documents needed are attached to the email. Please make sure to electronically sign them and reply to this email with the completed documents. If you have any questions in regards to the forms, please do not hesitate to reach out. Upon completion of all required documents per your reply email, you will receive your e-ticket for travel.

The following are the guidelines and stipulations for traveling to Bangtania Island:

You will receive a one-way ticket, free of cost. You will be picked up from the airport and transported to the boat, which will bring you to the island. You will be given a limited amount of time to decide if you would like to stay as a permanent resident of Bangtania, approximately 2 weeks. Prior to you being granted full access to the island, you will meet with the Deputy Mayor who will greet you at the dock, completing a brief in-person interview. If you decide to leave or prove unfit for the island at that time, a complimentary ticket home will be provided to you up until the 2-week window.

Thank you,

Vanessa

Deputy Mayor of the Mayor’s Office, Bangtania Island

You couldn’t stop yourself from spilling some wine as you low-key panicked. You knew there was a very good possibility of being chosen; some of your mutuals on twitter had already left to go there, and while you had seen them briefly on the TL, it was never for long and they didn’t say anything other than that they were enjoying themselves immensely and to share the sweepstakes link.

You set down what was left of your wine that hadn’t spilt into your lap, and ran around your room, pulling clothes off of their hangers and out of your dresser drawers before you remembered you hadn’t even clicked the link to complete the forms. 

Pausing in the middle of your bedroom, arms filled with random clothes, you took 7 deep breaths to try and calm down before dropping your handful of clothes into your pen and waiting suitcase. Sitting back down, you calmly clicked the link and once transported to the secure website, you filled in the information needed so that your flight could be purchased for you as well as any other accommodations you may need could be handled by the ones in charge. 

You printed out the forms needed for the physical, jotted down some notes to go to the doctor on Monday to complete the form, and decided that the earliest you would be able to fly out was Wednesday. That gives you enough time to go to your job, request use of your vacation hours for the next 2 weeks, and turn in your two week notice. You didn’t ever want to come back to that shit hole.

You celebrated the news by turning up your bluetooth speaker and blasting your favorite upbeat BTS songs while you packed up everything you would need. Hasta La Vista!

Catching your flight was easier than you thought it would be, as you had an upgraded flight in first class. You were given star treatment, access to a separate waiting area with complimentary food and drinks, less people to deal with, comfortable seats, the works. You couldn’t believe that ARMY was able to provide all of this for you, but who were you to complain? 

The boat ride was also nice, more like taking a large yacht across the water to the island, you stood at the bough of the boat for most of the trip, enjoying the view as you became farther and farther away from everything that was shitty about your life and closer to everything you wanted. An escape into a world that was full of other people who were like you, liked the same music, had the same mindset, and you got to do it all on a paradise island? Hell fucking yeah.

After docking, you rolled your luggage behind you as you disembarked from the ramp, and saw a girl waiting for you. She was short but cute, a friendly smile and aura of being in charge. Her cheeks were slightly sunburnt, but you were envious of the way she looked refreshed, skin glowing. You couldn’t wait for that to be you; sunkissed and relaxed from the ocean breeze and too many margaritas.

“Y/n?” She asked, and you nodded.

“Welcome! I’m Vanessa, I hope that your trip went well?”

“Oh yea, it was awesome, thank you!”

“No problem, congratulations on winning! So before we go off to the fun stuff, we have a brief interview and a few more things to go over, and then I’ll give you a tour of the island and show you to your place. If you’ll follow me?”

Vanessa led the way to a golf cart and you climbed on, your luggage secured in the back seat of the cart. She turned the key, and you were speeding off towards a large house. It was painted white with accents of brick, and green ivy climbing lattices. The windows were large and beautiful, and you felt like you had seen them somewhere before. Like they were in a magazine or some type of professional photos or something. You shrugged off the feeling of deja vu, and followed Vanessa into the house.

The windows were open and provided a good amount of sunlight into the entryway, and you tried to take in as much as you could see as Vanessa walked past a staircase and led you towards the back of the house and into a side room. It was an office, with bright white walls and a large sturdy desk. A bookshelf was the entire wall behind the desk, where she now sat at. 

She gestured to the plush chair in front of her desk and you sat down, suddenly nervous. For such a large house, it was pretty quiet, and you wondered where all the other people were. Was this actually all an elaborate trick to sell you into sex trafficking and you were brought here to die?!

You calmed your thoughts once you heard laughter from somewhere above you, and music playing lightly from another area of the house.

“So, once again, welcome! I am the deputy mayor here, and basically in charge of getting you all settled. We are a formal nation, Bangtania, with a president, a whole government system, and we’re working on expanding the businesses here. Before I can reveal anything more to you, I do need to have you sign the Non-Disclosure Agreement here in person. I know that I sent it to you via email for you to read and electronically sign, but I like to cover all of my bases.”

Like clockwork, another woman walked into the open office door, carrying a glass of wine and some papers. She took a sip and handed the papers to Vanessa, who thanked her as she headed back out of the room. The woman blew a kiss and disappeared around the corner.

“That’s my best friend, Talia, and definitely the reason that all of this was even put into motion,” Vanessa said as she shuffled the papers before straightening them gently by tapping the edges on the desk. She stapled the corner, binding the papers together, and passed it over to you.

“I know you read over most of this, but I want to reiterate a few points anyways. From the moment you leave this office, you are not to share with anyone about the other people on this island. When you first applied to the giveaway sweepstakes, you gave us your social media handles. While we won’t take away social media from you, your posts will be monitored for identifying certain people who wish to remain anonymous while here. Please always ask anyone before posting and triple check photos as well.”

She points to a section and you initial, stating you understand.

“You have a two week period here to see how you like it. You don’t have to stay if you do not want to. After that time, you will be issued a passport for Bangtania, a resident ID, and be included in our census. You will have dual citizenship for here and for your home country as well.”

“If you choose to leave within the 2 week window, it’s no charge. If you choose to leave after, you will have to fund your flight home yourself. We will pay for your boat ride back to the mainland, and from there you can negotiate work or if you have money saved just in case, you can fly out. Also, if you choose to stay, you can always fly out to visit friends and family, just remember the NDA is always in affect.”

You initialed again.

Vanessa led you through a few more sections of the contract, and you learned that a few of the girls on the island were nurses and so if you were sick or needed minor medical attention, they would help you. Everything else was pretty much provided to you, and all they asked was that they could use your skills in return. 

You weren’t surprised they knew you had skills with computers and answering phones, which made you a perfect candidate to work in the main house under Vanessa doing secretarial work for her best friend, Talia. It wouldn’t be a lot of work, you would have plenty of time to enjoy the beach and rest, and the work would be related to the giveaway, running the island, and other fun BTS related things, so you were excited.

Signing your last signature on the bottom of the last page, Vanessa took the document, notarized it, and put it away in a locked filing cabinet next to her desk.

“Now, if you’re ready, I’d love to give you a tour of the island and show you where you’ll be staying.”

After seeing the main areas that people hung out at, you went towards what looked like a restaurant, which was good because you were hungry. Vanessa parked the golf cart next to a few others, and she held the door open for you.

You almost fainted. Seated at the table right when you walked in was none other than the 7 boys that were the reason you lived. BTS. Namjoon, Jimin, Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jungkook were sat at the table, and as you looked around, you saw that in between them sat other girls, including mutuals you knew were living here. Hobi appeared from swinging doors that led to what you assumed was the kitchen, delivering plates of food from a platter as a few girls followed him as well with drinks.

“C’mon Y/N, don’t be shy. Isn’t this what you wanted?” Vanessa laughed, taking in your shocked expression.

After eating, and sharing some conversation with Jin and Yoongi, you were ready for a nap. Jin was an exceptional cook, and you were full to the brim. Vanessa waved bye to everyone, a lingering hand on a certain male’s shoulder as she walked away, leading you back outside. As you sat back on the leather seat of the cart, she checked in with you.

“I’m definitely still in shock, but now I understand the NDA a lot more.” You chuckled as she drove you towards another house. It was just as big as the main house, as you heard several people call it, but the style was more relaxed and upon entering it, you realized it was because it was lived in. It was two stories, with a large open concept downstairs with a living room and kitchen, and rooms upstairs. You dragged your suitcase up the flight and Vanessa unlocked a room for you with a key before handing it to you.

“This is our newcomer guest room. We will have a room ready for you after your 2 weeks are up, if you decide to stay. For now, most people have said staying with me and Talia has been helpful if they had questions or needed anything, but any of the girls will help you, everyone is super nice.”

You looked around the room; it was spacious with a nice big bay window that allowed a decent amount of sunlight in.

“I’ll leave you to get settled in. Feel free to explore some more, and tomorrow we will have our weekly game night so you can meet everyone in a more relaxed setting and have fun. It’s our way of welcoming you to Bangtania.”

Vanessa let herself out of the room, closing the door softly. You wanted to explore, but at the moment the bed was calling to you. You lay down in the spot where the sun was pooling, curling yourself into the warmth and passed out. Jet Lag was a bitch.

When you finally rejoined the waking world, it was definitely not waking hours. The sun had set, and you shiver, the ocean breeze now too cool in your bedroom. You get up, throwing a MOTS tour hoodie on, and climb back in the bed, attempting to go back to sleep. Tossing and turning for about 15 minutes, sleep evades you. You must have caught up on all of your missing sleep with that ‘nap’ you took. Like you said, Jet lag is a bitch. Not wanting to continue to lay there restless, you slip out of the room and down the stairs.

You walk along the road, past other houses, finding yourself walking into sand. Sitting on the beach, enjoying the sound of the waves, you finally begin to feel tired. Rather than fall asleep on the beach, you make your way back to the house.

You head up the stairs and start down the hall, being as quiet as possible since it’s late and everyone is asleep. At least you assume they are all asleep, until you hear a very familiar voice coming from Vanessa’s room.

“Come here Princess, why are you acting this way?” You step closer to the door that is slightly ajar. You can’t believe what you are seeing, but you can’t stop watching either.

↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine & mrsparkjimin18 2020-2021. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

[anna-justice]

Lost or Found - 4

Summary: As Jay, Hailey, Kim, Adam and Kevin start their junior year in the wake of a tragic summer, the past year of their lives comes back to haunt them. If you enjoyed Pretty Little Liars, this is for you! *UPSTEAD/BURZEK High School AU

...

4 - Back to December 

...

Jay jumped out of the truck and ran towards the house, Hailey racing after him. He spotted his mom standing on the porch and pushed through the crowd of neighbors to get to her. Hailey stayed on his tail, not wanting to get lost in the commotion. 

He immediately wrapped his mom in a hug, checking her for any signs of injury. “Are you okay? What happened?” He asked frantically. 

Jane looked past her son at the girl standing behind him. “I’m fine. Your father…” She trailed off, she knew how secretive Jay was about his problems, especially when it came to Pat Halstead. 

Hailey sensed the awkwardness and smiled softly. “I’ll just wait at the truck, or I can call my aunt?” 

Jay sighed, he had completely forgotten that Hailey was there. “No, I’ll drive you home, just, uh, give me a few minutes.” Hailey nodded, wanting to remove herself from the situation as fast as possible. Jay turned back to his mother. “What happened?”

“I got home a little while ago and I found your father passed out on the floor, I couldn’t get him to wake up so, so I panicked and called 911.” Jay hugged his mother once more, letting out a breath of relief. Thankful that this particular incident wasn’t connected to Erin. “Go, take your friend home. I’m fine really, I think your dad is convincing them to let him stay here.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you alone.” Jay searched her face for any inconsistency, but she was solid.

Jane smiled, “I promise. I’ll see you later.” 

Hailey watched Jay walk toward her, he was obviously upset. His jaw was clenched and there was an unnatural intensity to his walk. “Everything okay?” She asked as he neared her. 

“Yeah,” He snapped. “Let’s go.” Hailey tried not to be hurt by his harsh words, everything wasn’t okay and she wasn’t about to push him on the subject. 

The drive back to her house was quiet and tense. Neither of them spoke ,Jay kept his eyes trained on the road and Hailey scrolled through instagram. She wasted no time jumping out when he pulled in her driveway. “Thanks.” She squeaked before shutting the door behind her.

Jay rolled down the passenger side window. “Hailey.” He called after her.”Are you going to be okay?” She nodded and disappeared through the front door.

Jay felt like shit as he drove away, he didn’t want to leave her there alone, but he wasn’t close to good company right now and the last thing he needed was Hailey asking a bunch of questions. He chose to ignore his issues with his father the same way that his father chose to ignore him. However, his mom was a different story. He wasn’t sure what was affected more by Pat’s drinking problem, his dad’s liver or Jane. Will used to share the burden with him, but he was off at college now. Jay had to face the music alone. 

…

A few hours later, Hailey stood in the middle of the school supplies section in Target with Adam and Kim. Unfortunately the world doesn’t stop turning when you’re dealing with a stalker/psycho/murderer situation, which meant school was still starting next week. 

Adam groaned, glancing down at the list in his hand. “Why did I decide to take AP Chem?” 

“To impress me.” Kim throws back, Hailey smirks while Adam throws her a bored look. 

“Haha, very funny.” He grumbles and pulls a composition notebook off the shelf. “Do you think Griffin will like me better if I get the one covered with scientific formulas?” He asked, holding up a notebook with slope intercept form and the quadratic formula written all over.

Kim pulls it out of his hands, “Um, I don’t think so.” Adam gives her a look. “Adam these are beginner math formulas, Algebra 2 stuff.” 

Adam throws his head against the shelving. “I’m so screwed.” 

“Oh, one hundred percent.” Hailey says, earning a laugh from Kim. “Kim I don’t know why you’re taking 5 APs.” 

“I’m getting my capstone.” She says, sorting through her different color organized 5-Star notebooks. 

Hailey laughed, “You are like one class away from it. But, I’m glad you are because now our schedules are almost identical.” 

Adam houghed, “I have 3 classes with Jay’s moody ass.” 

Hailey was about to say something, the events of that morning playing in her head, but Kim beat him to it. “Imagine if it was me, if I was the one missing and you had to watch him and Erin be happy.”

Adam sighed, realizing he sounded like a complete dick before, “I know. It’s just, Jay and I have played on the same team since little league. We’ve been friends for years, since way before Erin. I know it’s selfish but I thought losing her meant I got Jay back.” Hailey felt for Adam, he wasn’t one to express himself so openly, at least to her. 

Kim took his hand in hers, “We’ll get him back, he needs closure.” She looked to Hailey, “We all do.” 

Hailey wasn’t sure if it was really closure that they all needed, they needed to figure out who was threatening them. As far as they knew, no texts had come through since breakfast, but Hailey couldn’t shake the constant feeling of being watched. It felt strange, wrong even, to be back to school shopping in the middle of all this. But clinging to any sense of normalcy seemed to be a theme throughout the group. 

They wandered through the rest of the isles, Kim convincing Adam that they didn’t need 3 cases of double stuff oreos for movie night. They rounded the corner and Kim gasped, yanking them both back behind the wall. “Ohmigod, Adam. I think that’s Nadia.”

“What? There’s no way.” He said.

Kim nudged him, “See for yourself.” 

Adam poked his head out and quickly turned back to face them, eyes wide. “Holy shit, that’s Nadia.”

“I told you!”

Hailey looked between the two of them, who looked like they were about to pee their pants. “Who the hell is Nadia?”

…

Later that night, continuing the never ending day, the whole scooby gang sat around a firepit on Kim’s porch. Kim insisted that Hailey call Kevin and Adam call Jay as soon as they snuck out of Target and tell them to meet at her house. Hailey still didn’t know what was going on, she didn’t know who this Nadia girl was, but she was sure she had something to do with Erin.

“Okay,” Hailey said, interrupting the nervous chatter. “Is anyone going to tell me who this girl is?” 

“Well, not to be weird but, you kinda took her place.” Kim explained. 

“Huh?” 

Jay spoke up, “She and Erin grew up together, where most of the rest of us met the first week of freshman year.”

“She was the third girl, a little closed off, only really trusted Erin.” Kim said. 

“And she had a huge crush on Jay.” Adam butted in. 

“Yeah.” Jay spat, “Anyway, Erin was always the jealous type, we started dating around Thanksgiving and by Christmas, Erin had enough dirt on Nadia to get her expelled.”

“Are you serious?” Hailey questioned.

Kim nodded, “Erin blackmailed her out of town, none of us have heard from her since New Years, freshman year. And none of us know what actually happened. Erin told us that she was “a little skank who couldn’t be trusted” and that she had planned to ruin us all. She was protecting us, but now that all seems so stupid.” 

“Yeah,” Kevin joined in, “We were horrible to that girl.” 

Hailey’s gears were turning over, her mind was running wild. Nadia had to be connected to all of this. Suddenly, Erin’s phone, which was always with Jay, buzzed on the ground. 

Blocked ID: I see the whole gang is there. Time to turn up the heat. I know who you all hold dear, the golden boy is also a momma’s boy, the athlete is in the running for fake father of the year, the mystery’s love for her brothers isn’t as much of a secret, the princess isn’t the only one in line for the throne and the heartbreaker, well now there’s someone who could break his. Follow my rules and your loved ones stay safe, don’t, and there will be many funerals in your future. Let the games begin. 

Everyone was silent after Jay read the text aloud. It wasn’t just them, everyone they loved were in danger too. Hailey spoke up, airing out her theory. “Think about it. Who in the world hates Erin the most? Who shows back up right after Erin is supposedly gone for good? Who would know all of your secrets? Nadia, guys.” She looks to the rest of her friends, all of them thinking the same thing. “Nadia took Erin.”

...

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Jay’s mother’s name is Jane and Will is older. I know that it differs from the show, but I think for this Will being older works better. Also, I don’t think I had ever mentioned before how long Erin and Jay had been dating, but now it’s a year and a halfish. 

[jkslug]

foul mouth | kth ceo au

∷ Cursing out and not recognizing your boss earned you his constant (and annoying) attention alongside a new nickname.

Taehyung x Reader

Words: 4,689

∵ fluff

∵ ceo au ,,, e2l au

“Um… you,” a hand was pointed towards your face, “photocopy 2 of everything then man the desk,” now a tonne of papers was slammed in front of you, sending a gust of wind backwards and shocking you from the force they were dropped at.

Getting bossed around was something you had to get used to being a junior secretary at a huge up and coming company- a new junior secretary who also only started three days ago.

There were also nicknames; they were rather degrading as most people never bothered to learn your name until they decided you could last at least four months here. Nothing too special; most people opted for: ’hey you!’ or ’thingy’ and the most welcoming- ’newbie’.

You had to take it on the chin, this was your job -a well paying one- that you weren’t planning on losing any time soon. So the workload and rude coworkers are something you’ll have to get used to, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t annoying as shit.

”It’s Y/N,” managing to wrap your tiny hands around the blocks of paper, you lifted up the weight, ”you should know; you’re the one who hired me Amanda,” your boss or head secretary, Amanda, didn’t have time for ’casual’ conversation (somehow, knowing your name was casual) and anytime anyone brought up anything other than work she shut it down. So making friends was out the window.

”Alright then Adrian,” not even close, “can you stop messing around and photocopy these for me quickly. I want to go to lunch,” you did admire her however; the way she managed to talk with you, the person on the phone, the person in front of her, all while clicking the mouse to add another tab onto the already filled screen on her computer was multitasking skills beyond even your own mother. And the fact that she still managed it with impeccable slicked back hair, untouched skin and a perfect pantsuit combo was some sort of sorcery.

”Chop chop,” Amanda waved her hand in your general direction and went back to her multiple conversations.

The sigh that fell from your mouth was heavy enough to even worry the man standing behind the desk, but nonetheless, work was work and you were willing to commit until this job inevitably kills you.

The walk to the photocopy room wasn’t that far, so you didn’t bother thinking about the fact the trip back you were carrying double the weight until you were there, smacking your head against the photocopier for your sheer stupidity of not doing this in two trips.

”Finally,” Amanda got up from her chair, not to help, but to grab her purse, ”I’m going to get some food and I’ll be straight back as I still don’t trust you here alone. Put the papers on my side of the desk,” oh, that’s a nice feeling.

Being bashed and then ordered around again. You stood there, loads and loads of paper somehow balanced in your hands as you watched Amanda walk away, heels clicking against the tile floors with every self-entitled step.

You set down the papers with a slam next to her computer, the pens laid on her desk dispersed and you didn’t make an effort to pick them up. A favour for a favour.

Expecting a clear desk, you sat down in your chair with the annoyingly squeaky wheel and gasp at your computer screen. You stared at what was normally a flawless sheer black, clean screen that had transformed into a mood board for yellow and pink post-it notes, all similarly decorated with a neat ’A’ at the bottom of the task set on each one of them.

”Fuck sake!” You bang your head onto the keyboard; unintelligible combinations appearing onto your Microsoft Excel and stretching the collum as your profile stays firmly pressed against the board.

”I know the feeling, but maybe keep the language to yourself, you’re in a public space,” an unfamiliar voice ringed in your ears, the tone of was deep, but it was smoother than caramel; you could fall into it and listen to it all day… but once the words registered in your mind your head shot up, hair flying everywhere and out of your pathetically tied bun.

“There you go,” the man watched as you appeared from under the desk like a bunny coming out of a magicians top hat, “you need to let me in. I’ve lost my ID and can’t get through the turnstiles. You have to let me in, I would jump over, but I don’t want to rip this suit.”

Not only were you the secretary for this building and company, you also were the ’gatekeeper’- as you liked to call it. You and Amanda decide who goes in and who doesn’t; people who work here have an ID to get them past the turnstiles, and others, who have scheduled appointments, are given a temporary guest ID to let them in. This guy, however, has neither of those things and Amanda made it very clear: ’never let someone who doesn’t have an ID or appointment through. Or else’.

And as a new employee under her care, you didn’t want to embarrass you or her.

“I can’t do that sir. You don’t have an ID or an appointment so you can’t go through,” you say with a monotone voice a shuffle through papers to make yourself look busy.

The look he fires back to your remark is either completely disgust or shock, ”my face should be ID enough.”

Wow, what a cocky little shit. You scoff and smile, shocked by his attitude.

”Your face? Sorry, but as a person who works here, I’ve never seen you around,” you roll your eyes and turn away, sitting back down in your chair, ”you can’t go through.”

“You’re just a secretary, who have you seen around and what do you do anyway?” You could see the self-entitlement dripping off of him.

Your blood starts boiling and you slam your hands on the desk, rising slowly and building up and ready to burst like a volcano. At first, before you took this job, you would’ve thought the same thing, but finally having the experience of being a secretary and the workload, you were ready to punch this guy square in the face.

”Just a secretary? Sorry, sir,” you over pronounce the sir, ”but i’m not just the fucking secretary, I also manage the damn gates.”

”Revolutionary. You hold the company on your shoulders,” you didn’t much enjoy the sarcasm or smile that this man’s mouth is showing.

“Alright you fucking listen here mister,” you lean over the counter while pointing a finger, officially done with today and this random dude, “I work fucking hard, this job is hard as shit I hope you know that. Also, I’m not letting you in the bloody building, okay?”

The fact that he was still grinning was all the more frustrating; you wanted to slap it off his face.

”You have such a foul mouth,” he speaks softly, but with a teasing smile which aggravates you further.

”You have a foul personality. Don’t come over to me and demand stuff I can’t give you like a spoilt child,” you spit at him. Honestly, if he caught you at any other time, you wouldn’t be this fired up.

”Actually you can because I’m-”

”Mr Kim?”

Both you and the frustrating man turn to see Amanda, standing there, half-eaten sandwich in her left hand, ”are you here for your afternoon meeting?”

Confusion struck; Amanda knew him? Who’s mister Kim? What meeting?

Your confusion wasn’t exactly hidden; it was pretty obvious to Amanda what happened as she clicked her heels back around the desk to your side to look for the guest IDs, all while shouting/whispering in your ear, ”he’s the CEO of the company, Kim Taehyung. And you’ve made him late for a meeting”

The expression on your face was priceless; Taehyung had to let out a small snicker as your eyes slowly but surely widened and your back straightened up. Words were on the tip of your tongue but came out as stupid stutters instead of the calm and sweet, honey voice he had.

Amanda handed over the ID and shook her head, apologizing on your behalf, “sorry, they’re the newbie,” you could feel the cheeks redden and you hoped he wouldn’t point it out, but after talking to him for only 3 minutes, you felt like he’s a person who would.

“Alright foul mouth, think you can remember this face for next time,” the way you tried to hide the incredulous look on your face only made Taehyung smile wider.

Taehyung bid farewell to Amanda and walked over to the turnstiles, letting himself in and running to the elevators.

”Hey y/n,” Amanda nudged your arm; you were expecting a scolding for not knowing who the owner of the company was, but you got, “I think he likes you,” you see her smiling for the first time as she walks back to the seat.

You were left in a daze… he likes you? And Amanda knows your name? It got you blushing even more than usual… Taehyung did, not Amanda.

“What?” You blinked at her. Too many thoughts that ’what’ was the only word you could let out.

“Well, he fired the last secretary because they couldn’t remember his name… so I guess he likes you,” Amanda shrugged.

You visibly gulped. You were in for it. This guy was bad news. And he was your boos.

“Should I get my dog the banana costume or the Dorothy costume for Halloween?”

It had only been a month since you had started work here and Amanda had taken a complete 180. The two conversation topics you and Amanda fall back on when the awkward silence fills the desk is her dog, Grumples (which you didn’t mind, like, at all) and Taehyung, the CEO (which you did mind, making it Amanda’s favourite subject topic)

”Those Dorothy shoes look like they’re from build-a-bear,” you lean over and give your input as she shows you her phone.

Amanda nods in agreement and keeps scrolling, “banana it is,” she copies you and rests her feet on the desk next to yours.

Over the past month, yours and Amanda’s computers slowly got closer and closer together -as did your friendship- and now you were reading a magazine and resting your feet on the desk.

Old Amanda would’ve erupted if she saw the both of you. Maybe once Amanda found a conversation topic that was mildly amusing (Taehyung, unfortunately) she got attached to you.

At least she knew your name now.

“It’s September, why are you ordering now?” You questioned

“I don’t trust delivery services at all,” Amanda responded.

”I can pay for next day delivery for you,” the deep, honey voice had shocked you once again- at least Amanda was there to flinch too.

As Amanda keeps her cool and places a hand on her chest to calm down her heart, you, on the other hand, jump up in your chair with a, ”what the fuck!”

”Wow, foul mouth has foul feet too,” Taehyung poked your big toe on your foot, which is sprawled out the desk; you flinched away while yelping- his hands were incredibly cold.

There was no one in the lobby and your feet hurt from the heels, who really would blame you for taking them off and relaxing- letting them breathe perhaps.

”W-what are you doing down here? Get back to work!” you struggle to fumble off the chair and stand up, blubbering uncontrollably as you slip slightly while trying to maintain some composure.

”You’re the one who’s resting their dirty feet on the front desk foul mouth!” Taehyung retorted, causing a small gasp to fall past your lips in offence; the nickname and him calling your feet dirty somehow cut deeper coming from his lips.

Amanda, like always, sits at the side and watches you and Taehyung’s usual ’run-ins’ with an amused look on her face.

These ’run-ins’ have been occurring more than you would like them to. It seemed to start happening after you embarrassingly didn’t recognise him as the CEO of the company you work for (you have brushed up your knowledge on the company after that incident) and then cursed him out.

The ordinarily quiet lobby (apart from mornings and rush hour when everyone leaves) now always -what you thought- had a scampering child running around in it. Taehyung was constantly there, popping up unexpectedly to get a reaction out of you- specifically a reaction to get you cursing at him again just to tell you off.

Just when you thought you got rid of the insufferable nicknames, another one came out of nowhere. ’Foul mouth’. So what you had a slight potty mouth? It wasn’t a big deal. But when Taehyung pointed it out, it became some sort of horrible thing you should stop doing. Obviously, you didn’t.

Every time the name dropped from his lips it was always spoken as a hum; a horrible nickname sounded sweet with his voice; like he was singing a beautiful song every time he said it, and you hated it. You were sure he didn’t know your name as that’s all he ever called you.

He shouldn’t even be down here; he should be in his office, a hundred feet away from you.

”Mr Kim, leave before I fucking drop kick you,” you slammed your hand down on the stapler, connecting the two papers and showing hostility in your irises.

”I love it when you talk dirty to me baby,” Taehyung rested his elbow on the desk, cheek resting in his hand as he stared at you lovingly; the look in his eyes was bewildering, it looked so real, but you knew it was just some tease.

“Go upstairs,” you hiss as a warning.

“This is so cute,” Amanda chuckled and was practically eating popcorn as she watched you both. Witnessing you and Taehyung squabble was her new favourite pastime. 

You knew because she told you.

Amanda chirping in was ignored and Taehyung continued the conversation, “if you actually read my schedule, you would know I’m going out to negotiate a business deal so-” Taehyung showed his mature side by flipping you off with both hands.

”Of course I read your schedule!” no, you didn’t. You read ’Mr Kim’s sc-’ and tossed it into the trash.

“I know you didn’t, but i’ll forgive you,” Taehyung flashes a bitter smile as you watch a sleek black car pull up in the street through the lobby windows. You didn’t want to guess how much it was, but it looked expensive. The tinted windows and paint job looked as if they cost more than your monthly rent.

Taehyung notices the car too and starts walking backwards slowly, keeping his eyes on you, “bye foul mouth,” a wink was directed at you, as was a shit-eating grin before Taehyung turned around and left the building, pulling a large coat on to cover his already large frame.

A wink. How cheesy.

”Did you see that? Mr Kim winked at you,” Amanda chirped in, poking your sides playfully.

”It was cringey.”

”Why are you blushing then?”

“Should I get my dog the elf costume or the reindeer costume for Christmas?”

“Those hoofs look deranged.”

”Elf it is.”

“It’s November, why are you ordering now?”

You and Amanda looked over at each other- you’ve had this conversation before.

Smiling at the infamous deja vu, you loosely chuck your wallet into the handbag that was definitely too big for the things you normally carry and grab your phone, ”do you want anything?”

”No, just be quick y/n,” Amanda’s workaholic side was evident in that sentence, wanting you back from your break as quickly as possible.

You nod and circle round the desk, quickening your pace as you don’t want to face Amanda’s wrath if you’re late.

”Wait! Y/n!” you whip your head around, expecting to be faced with Amanda’s face, but instead, a thick coat harshly smacked into your face and fell into your arms, ”you forgot your coat.”

Saluting to Amanda, you dash out of the door and give her another reason to scoff at you. You carelessly scramble to pull the coat on; the soft fabric touching your skin as you pulled your arm through the sleeve, tips of your fingers visible at the end.

The doors at the exit automatically opened once you were close enough and you swiftly stepped out, smiling to the bodyguards before doing so.

Cold air breathed into your skin once you stepped outside, hitting you like a truck; red cells rising to your cheeks to protect you from the harsh breeze. Your coat was already wrapped around you, adding another layer of protection as your flimsy dress and wool tights are useless against this weather.

It wasn’t unbearable, but you wanted to get out of the bitter weather and find something to warm up your hands; the nearest cafe to the building was a safe bet.

The place was small and quaint, so whenever someone walked in, the bell would ring and almost every face would turn to you, checking the arrival of the new person is acceptable enough to stay here.

That’s exactly what happened to you; not only did the warmth from the heaters hit your face, about 8 different eyes burned holes into you too- effectively heating you up more.

Looking down, you sauntered forward, avoiding the looks as you neared the counter. The man in front who had just finished his order turned around and- oh fuck.

“Mr Kim?”

The egregious smirk etched its way onto Taehyung’s face -insufferable and handsome as always- as he finished his order with, ”-oh, also a latte for foul mouth too,” he spins around, smile still present, ”you like lattes right?”

”I hate them,” you keep lying so he wouldn’t have the satisfaction of being right, ”and you’re not paying for my coffee- why are you even here?”

”It’s my day off. You really don’t read my schedule do you?” Taehyung looked slightly hurt, but the teasing kind that suggests he’s upset you aren’t obsessed with him. Like you’ll be obsessed with someone so full of himself to think like that.

”I did!” that was true. You eventually looked.

You tried resting on your tiptoes, looking past the tall man, but your view was blocked by his annoyingly becoming face, “and cancel the damn latte!” you shout to the barista, unable to get past the wall that is Mr Kim.

You let out a heavy sigh at him rotating his head around and gesturing at the poor barista to make it anyway.

Stumbling back, you finally got a good look of Taehyung in casual clothes. Well, casual enough for a businessman like Mr Kim. A striped, collared red shirt layered with a navy cardigan and a trench coat you really didn’t want to guess the price of.

Everything looked seamlessly exceptional on him, wearing it with so much confidence is what made him all the more attractive; any piece of clothing that was worn by him gained value by 100% just because it touched his skin. You shamelessly got too lost starting at him to notice the hand waving in front of your face.

”Foul mouth?” a look of genuine concern crossed his face, “stop spacing out.”

The nickname brought you back- does he even know your name?

”A cappuccino and latte to go?” the barista called from behind you, holding the plastic cups towards you.

There was no way you were letting Taehyung pay for you; your pride wouldn’t let you- even though it was just coffee.

You swatted his hand away that held a wad of money and dug into your oversized handbag to pull out your flimsy wallet. You handed the barista a 10 and refused the change.

“I was going to pay for that,” Taehyung held up his arms.

“Tough,” you grab onto both coffee cups, harsh pricks of warmth stabbing at your fingertips and tickling up your arm. To say it woke you up a little was an understatement.

Forcing the coffee into his open hand, Taehyung tried resisting, ”but-”

”Just because you’re ‘rich’,” you used air quotes with your free hand, ”doesn’t mean you have to pay for everything.”

Normally, Taehyung was not one to show when certain words affected him -being a businessman it could come in handy- but those small, simple words struck a chord within him. He never noticed; everyone always expected him to pay; everyone always waited until he reached for the bill first. It was refreshing to hear it.

Taehyung just froze up; a smile on his face and coffee in hand, the heat from the plastic cup is not the only thing sending tingles of amiability up his spine.

It took you a second to notice Mr Kim was staring at you. You couldn’t help but tease, waving a hand in front of his face and smiling at him, ”are you having an embolism?”

You had got him to laugh, which you were curiously happy about.

”No… thank you,” Taehyung looked down at the ground while holding up his cup, grinning just to glance back up at you with that boyish smile that would make any girls heart flutter. Including yours.

”No problem,” the air gets awkward so you step back and out of it, ”I should get back to work before Amanda kills me.”

”I could walk you b-”

”No! I’m fine!” you rush out the door; heart at a pace that wasn’t what anyone would call ’normal’ and cheeks completely burning. The cold breeze was barely doing justice in cooling you down.

”Guess what,” Amanda grins as she looks up at you as she sits on the other side of the desk.

”What?” it was like you knew what she would say, but you ask anyway because you had just arrived and slumped on the customer side of the desk.

”I cancelled the elf costume and went for the reindeer anyway.”

You roll your eyes at Amanda- of course she would.

Amanda greeting you by talking about her dog didn’t cheer you up like it normally would. This morning had been unbearable and it hasn’t even started properly. All it took was one thing -that one thing is waking up late- to screw up the rest of the day.

”We have Mr Kim’s new schedule for this week,” Amanda held out the piece of paper whilst typing on the computer, once again showing off her prodigious multitasking skills.

The paper flew out of her two fingers as you snatched it from her and speed-walked around the desk. Crashing down onto your leather seat you read through it with gleaming eyes that didn’t go unnoticed by your desk buddy.

Things between you and Mr Kim have been… friendly? What was once teasing and cursing back and forth turned into genuine conversations every time he came downstairs, (there was still a little teasing and cursing) becoming significantly uninteresting to Amanda, which was a plus for you- although he did still call you foul mouth, proving your suspicions that he didn’t know your name to be true.

Running your fingers over the ink on the page, you memorized as much as you could on first glance, however, it came to a halt once it landed over the end of today.

Monday 5:30 - Dinner date.

A date? The words tasted strange on your tongue and you haven’t even said it out loud yet. You didn’t even know he had time for dates, but you knew it didn’t sit well with you; a grip was on your stomach and the fact that you felt like that, felt wrong entirely. He was basically your boss.

Your upset face was obviously more noticeable than you first thought as it attracted the attention of Amanda, ”something wrong?” she notices the placement of your finger and smirks.

”Jealous?” she spoke in that annoying mocking voice again.

”No,” you slammed the paper onto your desk, becoming engrossed with your computer screen instead, ”why would I be jealous?”

”Because you secretly like your boss and he’s going out with someone who isn’t you,” she had pinned the tail onto the donkey. The donkey was you and the tail was the cold hard truth.

”Fuck off.”

”Stop sulking!”

You scoff at Amanda as you continue to indeed, pout.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t get that upset over it, it wasn’t a big deal at all; he could even have a girlfriend for all you know. What you were really pouting over was the fact that Taehyung had not come downstairs at all today. It has become a habit and you had got used to it, getting comfortable with his presence being there.

You let out one big, final sigh as you start packing up; you hurriedly shove everything into your handbag, mumbling curses to yourself when you accidentally dropped your phone to the floor.

Bending over while praying it didn’t smash, you retrieve your phone and stand back up straight to meet a face you say you’re comfortable with, but still get scared of every time it appears unexpectedly.

”Mr Kim!” you place a hand over your chest and try to calm down from another jumpscare, ”what are you doing down here?”

”You really don’t read my schedule, do you?” Taehyung studies your every movement as you walk around the desk, ”I have a date.”

You press a smile together and raise your eyebrows, ”have fun,” lowering your face, you start speed walking for the door.

As you listened to your heels click against the floor rapidly, another sound of steps close-by catches your attention. You stopped abruptly and whipped your head to the side to see Taehyung.

”Mr Kim what-”

”I prefer it if you would call me Taehyung.”

”But you’re my boss-” you tried speaking again, but inevitably got interrupted.

”And you’re my date y/n,” your heart sped up and somehow slowed down at the same time. He said your name and date in one sentence, ”so let’s go,” your hand was taken from you as Taehyung dragged you away; Amanda excitedly waving you out of the door.

”Mr- Kim, what’s going on?” Taehyung somehow managed to get you into his car before answering your constant questions.

You were both in the back seat and you could not be more confused. You were his date? He knew your actual name?

Taehyung slowly reached over you, grabbing the seatbelt and helping you strap in; the close proximity was deadly as you held in a breath. You could feel his breath tickling the peach fuzz on your cheeks, which were bright red by now.

”You’re my date,” you felt the seatbelt click in place, ”because I like you. You stand up for yourself, which is hot, and are more caring than you think… and I wanted to take you out.”

You were a stuttering mess, words failing to get out, but you managed a small, ”w-wh-well what if I-I don’t want to go out?”

By the smirk on Taehyung’s face, you could tell he was planning something, ”tough,” you watched his dilated pupils getting closer and closer to you; hands nervously sweating and gripping onto the seat once his lips collided with force onto yours.

You felt two hands softly hold your cheeks, easily covering each one with how huge his hands were.

Just like everything else, Taehyung effortlessly got whatever he wanted and you relaxed, kissing him back; fluttering your eyes shut, your hands fell on top of his, softly caressing them as your lips worked together as if that was their sole purpose.

Everything was still confusing for you, but this felt right. It felt comfortable.

Taehyung was the first to pull away, causing the tiniest whimper to fall from your lips once he did. Your foreheads gently lean against each other; his cheeky grin still visible as you gulped.

”You know… for such a foul mouth, I didn’t expect you to taste so sweet.”

Taehyung may have got a smack around the head for that, but, he still pulled you back and enjoyed the taste of your lips for the whole ride to the restaurant.

[xbaepsae]

private tutor | part three (m)

“’We can take a break, if you want.’ ‘Are you sure?’ he asks, double meaning in his words and heat begins to pool in your body. ‘Yeah, I think I need time to process the information, you know?’ you say. ‘Besides, I think I’ll learn better with more of a…hands on kind of approach.’”

[tutor!namjoon x reader]

genre: college!au, smut, humor, fluff-ish

word count: 5.1k

a/n: and here it is! the final, thrilling part to this series. thank you to everyone who has been super patient with me. i love and appreciate all of you <3 xoxo

part one / part two / part three

You don’t see Namjoon again for a few days.

It’s not that you’re avoiding the guy, he did give you one of the best orgasms of your life after all, but you just haven’t had the opportunity to meet with him again. After the last study session, both of your schedules haven’t matched up. When you’re in class, he’s free. When you’re free, he’s too busy reading those damn philosophy books.

The two of you exchanged phone numbers—or rather, you coerced Yoongi into giving you Namjoon’s phone number with the promise of free Starbucks for the rest of the semester because the poor boy was out of money in his school account—but every text about possible study sessions has been in vain.

So, the little pink bullet vibrator in your bedside table has been relieving much of your end-of-semester stress instead. It also doesn’t help that you can’t stop thinking about your tutor either. You can’t get the image of when he was staring at you while giving you head out of your mind, and it’s been driving you absolutely crazy.

You told Ara about what happened in his bedroom after the game, and your roommate was shocked at how fast it all happened. “So, it’s that kind of payment.”

Were you some kind of prostitute now? You voiced this mild concern to Ara before she assured you that you weren’t a hoe now just because your tutor gave you oral in return for a study session. If anything, you should’ve given him head as payment. “I know—and I would have if not for your interfering phone call.”

“It’s not my fault you didn’t show up on time,” Ara said. “But on the real, is he really hot?”

Hot doesn’t do Kim Namjoon justice. There are no right or perfect words to describe him. You don’t know what it is about him, but everything concerning him just oozes sexuality. He knows all of the right words to make you bend to his will, as well as fiery looks that make you melt underneath his ministrations. And his mouth—that amazing, fantastic mouth—is magical. Your body becomes excited at just the thought of it.

It’s about a few days later when you get a text from him asking if you'll be free Friday afternoon. Lucky for him, the only class you have that day is chemistry, ironically enough, and you let him know this fact. Namjoon replies instantly, telling you that he’ll see you after that class.

Since meeting with Namjoon, you’ve been paying more attention in chemistry class. Things were starting to make sense—kind of, sort of—and you have an inkling feeling that you might pass. Also, in all honesty, you just really want to impress him with the new concepts you're learning. But trying to impress someone like him seems impossible.

When Friday rolls around, you cannot contain the excitement you feel. You sit in chemistry and take the most detailed notes you’ve ever taken, feeling determined to show how much you’ve improved since the first study session. Once your professor finishes her lecture, you leave class with a skip in your step and pull out your phone to send a quick text asking what time you should meet. As your typing away on your phone, not really paying attention to where you’re walking, you end up running into someone.

“Oops—I’m—” you look up, only to be met with the amused expression of your tutor. “Oh my god, Namjoon—I’m so sorry—”

Goodness, you are such a klutz. You were so focused on sending him a text, so excited to see him again, that you completely disregarded everything else. You realize that he has his arms on your shoulders, steadying you. Suddenly, embarrassment floods your body at the fact that you literally ran into him.

Shaking your head to collect yourself, you can’t help but notice that once again, Namjoon is dressed like he is some runway model—not a college student. Today, he’s wearing a plain black dress shirt tucked into lighter wash jeans. You don’t know how long you stare at him, but he coughs once, and you meet his eyes. That’s when you realize that he decided to forgo the glasses today. “You should watch where you’re going.”

“I was just about to send you a text,” you point to your phone. “I didn’t expect to run into you.”

“I actually sent you one too.”

Looking back at your phone, your message still in the text box, you scroll down and realize that Namjoon did send you a text just seconds ago.

12:49 PM | Namjoon: Hey. I’ll meet you outside your class today.

You look back at him, “Well, why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“My one o’clock got canceled, and I got out of my noon class a little early,” he says with a shrug. “Besides, I haven’t been in the science building since freshman year.”

“Okay, mister philosophy major.”

“Are you free to study?”

Nodding, you swallow the lump in your throat as you remember what happened during the last study session. “Definitely. I even took good notes today in class.”

He smirks. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Give me credit for trying,” you pout, walking away from him. Namjoon catches up to you in no time, arms slightly brushing against yours as he walks beside you down the hall. You become overly aware of how fast your heart starts beating and mentally curse yourself for reacting like a total noob.

“Isn’t that something you should’ve been doing all semester?”

You give him a look, but he merely laughs as you both walk out into the sun. You lead Namjoon to your dorm, walking past stares from the student body. As the two of you walk, you make small talk with him—clearly more interaction than what you guys did last time. He talks to you about his philosophy classes, which you don’t really get, but you appreciate his passion for it. “Honestly, I don’t really like philosophy.”

“Not many people do,” he says. “But I think people like Plato and Socrates were fascinating.”

“Is philosophy on the list of graduation requirements?”

Namjoon looks down at you. “I believe at least one class is.”

You groan at the thought of sitting through an entire semester of lectures about the mind and theories. “Great.”

“I could always tutor you, again,” he says, eyes still on you.

Your body hums at the thought of spending more time with Namjoon. Immediately, you want to jump and say that you want nothing more than to continue future tutoring sessions; but you decide to tease him a little. “Hmm…we’ll see. If I pass chemistry, then maybe. Like, I don’t want to waste my time if my grade doesn’t change you know?”

“Is this a challenge?” he asks with a smirk. “I already told you that I’m confident you’ll get at least a C. Why? Doubting my skills? Did I not make you cum hard enough last time?”

He says the last bit so quietly you almost don’t catch it. The two of you are still in public, which means anyone can hear the conversation you both are having, so you’re shocked that he’s being quite bold right now. Even though you don’t want to, you redden at the mention of last time because he’s right—he did make you cum really hard—so you definitely are not doubting the sexual prowess that is Kim Namjoon.

Before you can answer him, you’ve already reached your building. Rummaging through your backpack for your ID card, you swipe the metal lock on the door and open it up. You walk inside first and tell Namjoon that your room is on the second floor.

“Also, there’s no elevator in this building,” you sigh. “At least, no working elevator—the one we did have has been broken since labor day weekend.”

“Oh?” he laughs a little, following you up the stairs.

“Yeah, I think there were too many people on the elevator at one time, so it got stuck and maintenance hasn’t bothered to fix it. But at least I only have to climb one flight of stairs—I feel bad for the people on the floors above me. I don’t even want to think about the chaos that will be having to pack for winter break.”

Making it to your room, the first door on the left, you notice that Namjoon is awfully close to you and it sends little jolts of electricity up your spine.

“Cute,” he suddenly says, and you turn to ask him what. “The decorative names are a nice touch.”

You smile, looking at yours and Ara’s name that are creatively pieced on the door of the room. “Thanks—it was actually Ara’s idea though. She’s very into this kind of stuff. You know, doing the whole college experience.”

Slipping your key into the lock, you open the room and sigh in relief when you remember that you cleaned the night before. Ara was shocked that you were cleaning, not that you’re extremely messy or anything but you do have a tendency to leave empty water bottles around the room. However, when you mentioned that Namjoon was coming over to help you study, Ara would not stop shut up about it.

“Make sure to use protection, okay?” she said to you and you almost tackled her on the spot. “Also, make sure he discards the condom—I don’t want that shit to get on the carpet. I’ve heard that it’s hard to take cum off the carpet.”

Thankfully, Ara has a packed schedule on Friday afternoons, so she will not be here to disturb your study session. You invite Namjoon to walk inside first as you lock the door.

“Well,” you start, “welcome to my humble abode.”

“Your room is bigger than I thought it would be,” he comments.

“Why? Did you think it was going to be the size of a closet?” you snort. “This room accommodates two people, so it has to be decently sized.”

When you and Ara first moved in, you two tried to set up the room as practical as possible. You both decided to forgo the whole bunk bed situation because neither of you wanted to fight for the bottom bunk, so your beds sit parallel to each other with both bedside tables in-between. At the foot of your beds are desks, and by the door stands a sink and your closets.

You put your bag down on your bed and pull Ara’s desk chair from her side of the room. Setting it next to your chair, you sit down and beckon Namjoon to follow. You pull out your notes and textbook, handing them over to your tutor to look over.

“Are those the notes you took earlier?”

You nod once. “Yeah.”

Namjoon examines your notes, flipping back and forth over the pages you wrote today. “Did you understand everything the professor said?”

“Surprisingly, I did,” you say. “I’ve been able to soak up more information this past week than I have almost all semester.”

“That’s good,” he says with a nod and opens your textbook up. “Did you want to start from what you learned today, or where we left off last time?”

You tell him that you want the latter and Namjoon picks up seamlessly. With pen and paper in hand, you jot down everything that he says and ask questions when you don’t understand what he’s explaining. When he gets to the chapter about stoichiometry, you admit that you never understood what the heck this was. You even make Namjoon balance a simple hydrogen and oxygen equation five times because you really don’t get it. But, to your relief, you learn that Namjoon is surprisingly patient with you.

“Can you explain that again?” you ask with a sheepish smile, watching Namjoon write the current example you two are working on again.

“Okay, so the problem asks how many grams of nitrogen are needed to produce the 38.5 g of NH2 produced in the equation: 1 N2(g) + 3 H2(g) = 2 NH2(g)?”

You watch as he writes down the goal mass and then solves the problem using mass-mass stoichiometry. Through each step, he explains slowly what he is doing and why he is doing what he is doing. By the time he comes out with the answer, you feel a little lightbulb flicker in your head. He then asks if you feel comfortable solving the problem yourself, which you honestly don’t but what’s new, and you reply with an I guess so.

Without letting you see his work, Namjoon helps you start solving the problem before forcing you to do it all by yourself. After a few painstaking minutes, you show your answer and the smile he has lets you know that you’re not a complete failure. “So, I got it correct?”

“Yeah—just make sure you put the unit of measurement in your answer, as well as the atomic letters of the chemical,” he says, and you immediately add them to your answer.

“Thank you for being so patient,” you tell him. “I’m sorry that I’m so fucking slow.”

He only shakes his head, “I’ve tutored worse—trust me.”

Namjoon continues through different lessons and before you both realize it, nearly all of the afternoon has passed by and you’re starting to get hungry. Not hungry-hungry, but hungry enough that you know your stomach will probably start making noise. You will your stomach to not growl, but your body betrays you and the sounds coming from your stomach fill the room. Almost instantly, you wrap your arms around your abdomen and you feel your face flush. “Sorry.”

Glancing down at the watch on his wrist, Namjoon checks the time. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how long we’ve been studying. I also didn’t even think about whether or not you’ve even had lunch.”

“I’m okay,” you brush him away, knowing you can hold out until dinner. “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, but not for food.”

Your lips part in silent surprise. Oh. Slowly, your eyes meet his and you see that same dark look; this sends your body into a frenzy. Without even touching you, Namjoon has you under his spell and you honestly never want to be released from it. “We can take a break, if you want.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, double meaning in his words and heat begins to pool in your body.

“Yeah, I think I need time to process the information, you know?” you say. “Besides, I think I’ll learn better with more of a…hands on kind of approach.”

Humor laces Namjoon’s dark eyes and you swear that you’ve never seen anything sexier. “The next part of your payment?”

You’re so ready for this—anything and everything. You’ve been ready for a while now. “Of course.”

“Okay,” his voice is gentle. Namjoon brings a hand to cup your face, thumb running over your jawline before settling on your lips. He parts your mouth and you begin to suck on his finger. “Get down on your knees for me, baby girl.”

Your arousal skyrockets as you stand up and push your chair back. Falling to your knees, Namjoon’s hand never leaves your face. Looking up at him, you feel his hand moving to tangle in your hair. Suddenly, he pulls you in for a kiss, his tongue dancing with your own. You’re already getting drunk of a kiss, so imagining what's to come has your core aching.

As his lips move against your own, your fingers slide up his thighs and you can feel his muscle flexing underneath. He feels so strong underneath your hands and you can’t wait to see if he crumbles beneath you. Fingers find the belt holding his jeans together, and you begin to loosen the buckle. After, you begin to unbutton his jeans. Namjoon’s lips release yours when you lower his zipper. Shoving his jeans and boxers down in one smooth motion, your eyes take in his already half-hard member.

Namjoon surprises you when he brings a hand to his cock, holding it erect. “Suck my cock, baby girl.”

Your hand goes to replace his when he stops you. “What?”

“No hands,” he says, voice deep with lust, “put them behind you.”

A jolt of electricity goes up your spine and you almost let out a moan. Oh my god. You do as he says, fingers lacing together behind your back, and lower your head towards his groin. The first thing you do is extend your tongue out to lick the tip. A small smile stretches across your lips when Namjoon visibly shudders.

Then, your mouth envelops the entire head—sucking gently and tongue swirling around it. As you suck, you take more of him into your mouth. You have never been one to particularly enjoy giving head; you’ll do it without question, but it usually doesn’t do anything for you. However, you’re enjoying yourself; you want to please Namjoon and make him feel good.

Through your focused attention to his member, you can make out the few choked praises and curses that leave Namjoon’s lips. You moan appreciatively as you take him deeper into your throat. You release him for a moment to catch your breath before giving some attention to his shaft and balls. By this point, his cock as grown increasingly hard and you wonder for a brief moment if he’s going to fit inside of you.

Size has never been an issue for you; then again, you’re pretty sure he’s got the biggest package you’ve seen in real life.

“Fuck, y/n,” Namjoon moans, beginning to thrust his hips once you’ve taken all of him back into your mouth. You can feel your eyes begin to sting from the force of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and your gag reflex kicks in.

Even though you’re beginning to choke, he doesn’t stop slamming his cock down your throat. In fact, he tightens the grip on your hair and speeds up his thrusting. After a few hard thrusts, he releases you. Gasping for air, you can feel saliva dribble down your chin.

Wiping your face, you glance up at Namjoon. “Was that…?”

“Wow,” he breathes, “your mouth is fucking amazing.”

Pride beams inside of you and Namjoon takes this opportunity to crash his lips onto yours. He lifts you off the floor and helps you take your clothes off. As you strip, you also help him shed whatever clothes he is wearing as well. After the two of you are completely naked, you take in Namjoon’s bare body and just groan. How could one man be so damn perfect?

“Like what you see?”

You roll your eyes playfully, “No.”

He kisses you again and you become putty in his hands. Namjoon’s lips leave yours for a moment before reaching back down towards his jeans. Pulling out his wallet, you watch as he takes out a little foil packet. He tears the edge and rolls the condom onto his cock before sitting back down. “Sit on my cock.”

Usually, you’d bite back if someone ordered you around; but with Namjoon, you’ll do anything he says. But before you can straddle his lap, he brings his hand up to cup your mound. “Namjoon—”

He begins to rub your clit and you fall over, bracing yourself onto his shoulders. You moan into his neck as he slips a finger inside of you. And then another. With nails digging into his back, you grind your hips into his thrusting. Just as you’ve started building up momentum, he pulls his fingers out.

You curse, which only causes him to laugh. Unable to help yourself, you kiss him again—you really like kissing him, you realize. Wasting no more time, you hover over his lap and position yourself over him. Slowly, you sink lower. Just as your about to slip him inside of you, Namjoon stops you for a minute. Looking into his eyes, you find yourself getting lost in them. He kisses you again and begins to rub his head along your clit and down toward your slit.

“You’re so wet for me,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss against your jaw.

“Namjoon,” you choke on a cry. “I—”

“Do you want my cock inside of you?” he asks, continuing to tease you.

Your hands tighten around his neck, “Yes.”

“What was that?”

“Yes,” you repeat, another moan releasing from your lips.

His tip swirls around your clit again. “What?”

“Oh my god, Namjoon. Yes! Put your cock inside of me—oh.”

Your head tilts back and eyes roll as you feel him push inside of you. Unadulterated moans leave your lips as he slowly stretches you. Quickly, you realize that you were right—he is big, and you feel so full you can hardly handle it. You sink lower until you’re buried to the hilt, and it feels so good you might just explode. “I just…I just need a minute.”

Breathing into the crook of Namjoon’s neck, you allow your body to get adjusted before you begin to move your hips. As you ride him, you can feel your high approaching quickly and it doesn’t help that Namjoon has decided to tease you by pinching your nipples and sucking the sensitive skin of your neck.

“You feel so good on my cock, baby girl,” he practically coos into your ears and your hips slam faster; harder. “Fuck yourself onto me—just like that.”

Who knew you’d be such a praise kink hoe? You’re living for the sweet nothings coming from his lips.

He continues to pinch and pull at your nipples and just when you think you can’t take anymore, you feel his fingers right at your clit and that’s all it takes to push you over the edge. You scream his name, entire body convulsing in orgasm. Throughout this, Namjoon fucks himself into you still—helping you ride the high out.

“Oh my god,” you say once you catch your breath. “That was—”

“Who said we were done?” His voice causes you to raise your eyes towards him. “We’ve only just begun.”

Your mouth parts, core tightening with desire as he lifts you up and over to your bed. Still inside you, he lays your body down and begins peppering kisses all over your skin. Suddenly, you feel him pull out; you’re about to protest until you feel his hot breath caressing your thighs. Pushing your legs apart, he presses more kisses along the inside before his mouth begins to suck on your lips.

“Namjoon,” you moan his name, legs shaking at his ministrations.

There’s just something so erotic about him eating you out post-penetration—the thought sends your head spinning. Without much, you feel your insides tightening again; you’re going to cum again and your body is so ready for the toe-curling sensation. But it stops when Namjoon releases his hold on you. “You think you deserve to cum again?”

You lift yourself up on your forearms, breathing heavily as you stare at the man before you. Is he being serious right now? “What?”

“I don’t know if you’ve earned another orgasm yet,” he says, a smirk growing along his lips. “I mean, I haven’t cum yet…so why do you deserve more than one?”

“I…I…” you struggle to speak. Hell, you can’t even think right now.

But Namjoon doesn’t stop tormenting you. You watch as his hand returns to your cunt, fingers moving slowly along your wetness. A moan leaves your lips, and it only seems to make his smirk wider. “Tell me why, y/n?”

Your head falls back a bit when you feel that tightness building again. As his fingers continue to move, your hips match their rhythm. “I’m so…close.”

“Oh yeah?”

You nod feverishly. “Oh god…yeah.”

“You want to cum again?” he asks.

As Namjoon’s fingers move along your slit, rubbing delicious circles around your swollen clit, your hips move feverishly to match his pace. Clutching the bedsheets in-between your hands, you cry as your high comes. But as your body shakes, you feel him enter you again.

He fucks you hard—cock buried deep inside of you—and it feels so fucking good you swear you might actually pass out. Namjoon thrusts relentlessly, and another wave of pleasure crash over you as he hits your g-spot repeatedly. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you feel completely spent. How many times have you come undone today?

You’re pretty sure that you can’t manage another orgasm, you’re already feeling sensitivity-overload; so instead, you wrap your legs around his waist and dig your heels into his back. “I want you to cum.”

“Yeah?” he asks, hair in a sweaty mess on top of you. God, he looks so good.

You nod. “Yeah…where do you want to cum? I’ll let you choose.”

Namjoon grunts at your words, hips picking up their pace. “Can I cum on your tits?”

Your body shakes at his request, and all you can do is nod. He continues to thrust a few more times, hips moving a little sloppier each with each thrust, before he pulls out and removes his condom. Strings of milky white hit your chest as he mutters fuck over and over again, painting your breast; however, the real sight to behold is Namjoon and the way his eyes are shut in pure ecstasy.

Sitting up, you pull him closer and mold your lips against his. As you both kiss in post-coital bliss, you realize that you can get used to this.

***

a few weeks later...

Namjoon paces up and down the empty hallway.

His loafers echo in the closed space, while outside there is a totally different picture. Mother nature has decided to be lovely as usual and snow—the first of the season. Although the snow is nice and all, he can’t but feel nervous as his eyes continuously return to the same wooden door; the door that leads to you. Well, to your chemistry class specifically. You’re in there taking your chemistry final right now, and it’s nearing the end of the three-hour exam session.

Shouldn’t you be done already? For the last hour, Namjoon has watched as other students have filed out of the room with their exams in hand. As each individual walked out, he searched for your face in vain. And as the minutes continue to tick by, Namjoon grows more worried.

He doesn’t doubt your preparedness—you two have done more than enough studying. Namjoon licks his lower lip at the memory of every study session you’ve both had, since they’ve all ended with the both of you in each other’s beds. Although the sex has gotten better and better every time, that isn't the only good thing that's happened. In the last few weeks, he has actually taught you a lot about chemistry too.

“What if I forget everything?” you asked yesterday, the both of you tucked in his bed.

Namjoon laughed, “You won’t forget.”

“I can’t even remember what mass is, and that is supposed to be the basic of all basic information.”

“It’s property of a physical body and a measure of its resistance to acceleration when a net force is applied, y/n.”

When he first met you, he said something about guaranteeing that you’d make a C on the final, but he was quite positive that you’d actually do better than that. You were able to soak up a semester’s worth of chemistry in a few weeks; if that isn’t impressive, Namjoon doesn’t know what is. And this is coming from someone who aces all of their finals.

From what he can remember about the chemistry final is that it’s about one hundred questions, and it's all multiple choice. There are different versions of the final, but all of the questions are the same—just in a different order to prevent cheating. And since the test is multiple choice, students get their scores immediately after. You both practiced more than enough old final questions, and you did well on all of them, so he was confident in your skills.

Now, he doesn't know what to think.

Just as Namjoon is about to worry himself sick, the door creaks open and you walk out. Immediately, you make eye contact with him and offer a small smile. He quickly scans your face and assumes the worst. “Oh god, did you not pass?”

“Sorry I took so long,” you avoid his question as you walk closer to him, “those one hundred questions took everything out of me.”

“Y/n, what did you get on the final?” Namjoon takes your face in his hands, searching your eyes for an answer. “Baby, I swear I really thought I prepared you well. I’m so s—”

Suddenly, you laugh. You laugh so hard your entire body shakes. Namjoon looks at you like you’ve grown another head. He asks you what’s wrong, but you can’t even answer. “You’re so funny, Joon.”

“Why are you laughing?”

You smile. “I’m laughing because you’re getting so worked up over nothing.”

“Nothing?” he asks, incredulously. “I’m worried that you didn’t pass. That’s not nothing.”

“You don’t have to worry.”

Namjoon frowns for a moment and you unfold your exam and reveal the front page to him. He blinks a few times to make sure the red letter is actually there. Slowly, a smile builds on his face and he lifts you off the ground. You laugh into his shoulder as he spins you around in circles.

As your feet meet the ground again, the smile can’t be wiped off your face. “I can’t believe I actually got a one hundred!”

“Did the professor think you cheated or something?” Namjoon jokes and you almost punch his shoulder.

“No, I just explained that you tutored me. That was all she needed to know.”

“I guess we both win, huh?”

“Win?” you ask, confused as to what he’s talking about.

Namjoon nods. “Yeah—you got the grade, and got my payments.”

You mock laugh, “Ha. Ha. I think you've gotten one too many payments from me, don’t you think?”

He takes that chance to pull your body close, so that you have to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. Namjoon looks down at you with a smirk, enjoying the way you squirm in his hold. Over the last few weeks, you’ve gotten a lot more confident in his presence and he loved it. However, he still enjoys messing with your anyway. “I think you enjoyed giving me all those payments.”

“Who said?”

“Your body,” he smiles.

“My body tends to betray my mind,” you say, fighting your own smile.

Namjoon’s hands move from your waist to cup your ass. Your eyebrows raise at his action, but you don’t object and that’s all the confirmation he needs to lean down for a kiss.

[kafkasgods]

faaya

“We'll buy back our own harm with what is most dear to us.” ― Euripides, Iphigenia in Aulis

tw mentions of puke, suicide

Space. Faaya was buying herself space. That’s all it was suppose to be. Just time to sort out her feelings and reevaluate her priorities. Bentley’s confession had made her afraid. Being frozen under the drakon’s gaze had made her afraid. Dayn’s hospitalization made her afraid. Fear was power and Faaya was spiraling, powerless.

The text messages with Luke wasn’t suppose to go that route initially. She had already bought their gifts and she didn’t want the obligations of giving them to weigh on her while she figured things out. She’d give Luke his gift, let Luke give her gift for Bentley as his, and she could step away from the holidays easily. Then somewhere along the way, Faaya thought Luke was going to feel the way she pulled back eventually and she didn’t want to have another talk about it, so she’d let him down on her own terms. While he took it as well as she could expect, the guilt still lingered. Thumb on her screen, Faaya scrolled through the texts again as she sipped her hibiscus tea. Then, she swiped back to mull over Bentley’s texts.

“Faaya?” Glancing up from her phone, Adam got her attention from his seat at the bar. “Not working?”

He was Dayn’s friend, though Adam was a quiet person. She didn’t know him that well, but she had nothing against him either. “Not really. I had to come in to fix something. I’m just getting a drink since I’m here. You don’t visit these parts often.”

Adam lifted his shoulders and spoke only after a moment, changing the subject. “I heard you were with Rune. During the snow in,” he clarified. [6:01 PM] It took a moment for Faaya to remember. Right. Son of Ares. “Yeah, he saved my life and was blessed by your dad.”

“He saved you?” The slight surprise on Adam’s face didn’t really make sense for what Faaya knew of Rune, but she guessed she didn’t know him that well either. She was biased too, anyway. “What happened?”

“You can ask him if you’re so curious.”

“Probably not,” Adam answered, oddly honest. “He did okay though? He was alright?”

“As far as I can tell.” Ice clinked against her glass as she stirred it.

“Alright, thanks.”

A simple guy, Adam paid and left, leaving her with half a glass of her drink left—A light shone from the ground—And his phone, apparently. Faaya was not a nosy person, she didn’t think, but seeing Dayn’s name across the screen along with hers in the message made her curious. He was typing something, but she scrolled up to get some context. [6:03 PM] Dayn Thompson: yea faaya came by once

Dayn Thompson: she was my emergency contact

Dayn Thompson: im changing that to you btw

Adam Hudson: so my phone’s never gonna stop ringing huh

Adam Hudon: how’d that go

Dayn Thompson:

Dayn Thompson: it was weird though

Dayn Thompson: i told her about siding with athena and that was fine but then she started crying and idk it made me super uncomfortable

Dayn Thompson: like were not dating and even if we were we just never did that stuff really

Dayn Thompson: i wouldnt want to start now

Adam Hudson: you guys dated for awhile. wouldn’t that come up

Dayn Thompson: yea but she kept that shit to herself and that was better

Adam Hudson: you sound like a dick

Dayn Thompson: hey if actually loved her then maybe i might feel different but not the case man

Dayn Thompson: yea id definitely handle it better if i like really really cared about them

Dayn Thompson: and faayas just not soft like normal girls it just doesnt look good on her

Adam Hudson: if you didn’t like her why do you keep getting back together

Dayn Thompson: because she lets me ig

Dayn Thompson: its just super easy to get back with faaya if i feel like it [6:03 PM] At some point reading the messages, her heart had dropped. Every fear she’d ever had about Dayn was true and Faaya felt sick. Deep down, she’d always known she was just some play thing for him to pass the time with. There was too much going on around her now. The music, the laughing, the dancing, the lights. She had to get out, it all felt too small. After dropping Adam’s phone off in the lost and found, she drove back home, feeling a numbing in her arms and legs.

Stumbling out of her car, she wanted to hurry up to her apartment so she could  throw up the rock in her stomach . The drive had only made her feel sicker. But of course, it wasn’t over. Because there was Bentley standing by her building with his jaw locked and an unfamiliar anger set in his brow bone. It didn’t get better when he saw her approaching.

“Bentley, I told you I didn’t want to talk.” The strength in her voice wasn’t there. Maybe he’d try again later.

“You weren’t going to reply again.” It was true. “Check your phone, Faaya.”

There was no room to argue, so she did so gritting her teeth. A message from Luke with his Christmas gift to her. Why did everything have to be so hard and hurt so much? It was like there was bright and happy future that was out of reach, but beckoning her towards it. The problem was, it just wasn’t possible—Bentley was fragile. Luke was sensitive. And Faaya was afraid. Always afraid. She just didn’t realize how much until now. [6:04 PM] “What do you want me to do? Say sorry and go on the trip with you guys?” Faaya asked exasperated.

“I want to know why you thought it was a good idea to get Luke involved in this. Your problem is with me.”

“Luke’s in the middle of our problems whether we like it or not. I told you I needed space from you. I don’t know how long that is. Luke was bound to read the room eventually and I’d rather have it now than later.”

“Well that’s nice of you, Faaya. It’s super mature and thoughtful.” The sarcasm didn’t go unnoticed. “You know, you’re a real arsehole. I’ve bitten my tongue about it for years because yeah, sometimes the pros outweighed the cons and I used to think, you know what, ‘yeah Phobos made her like this.’ But we’ve reached the point where it’s all just you and it’s inexcusable.”

The onslaught from Bentley was harsh and only filled with truths. It left Faaya speechless.

He continued. “I can’t believe I told you I wanted to kill myself and instead of giving a shit about me, you’re just worried about how it makes you feel. You’re scared about living in a world without me? About caring too much? About you not being enough for me? Well it’s all true and it’s all your own fault.” Bentley was breathing hard, getting it all off his chest. A fist was clenched at his side and his scolding glower was burning holes into her. “You’re a bad friend, Faaya. You’re a worse person. I wish we’d never met. You’re not someone meant to have friends. You don’t have the heart for it.” [6:04 PM] “No, I don’t, Bentley.” Faaya’s eyes narrowed on him as she crossed her arms. As true as it was, attacks were the only thing she knew how to handle. Efficiently and devastatingly. “So don’t bother me again and I won’t bother you.”

Brushing past him, Faaya didn’t feel so sick anymore. She didn’t feel anything, and she wouldn’t. Bentley was right. Certain and solid, Faaya just wasn’t meant to care about anyone else, but herself. It was what she defaulted on anytime the choice had to be made. Siding with Ares had been for her own control. Stealing her biological mother’s abilities had been her own rage. Everything Faaya did was with herself in mind. Being vulnerable had only lead to suffering to her and those around her. There was no reason to fight it now that was clear. [6:04 PM] [ SCENE CHANGE ]

“My kid’s not that much of a bad influence.”

“Bad or not, he was still too much of an influence.” Phobos rolled his shoulder. It’d been a very productive afternoon. “Faaya doesn’t really do well being held back by shit like that.”

Deimos raised a brow. “She can’t be a ‘real natural’ if you have to get involved with her life so much.”

Phobos scoffed, shaking his head. “That’s what parents do, don’t they? Make sure their kids doing the best they can? Faaya wasn’t gonna get anywhere if I left her to her own devices. Besides, I let her have her fun. She’s gotta grow up now. Childhood friends have gotta go. Fuck sentimentality. And I’m bored of the Dayn phase. He’s with Athena now anyway. We just don’t need any of the useless shit.”

Kids always liked making their own mistakes and Phobos let Faaya make those for awhile, but she was better than that and she needed a little push. She’d already been fearing everything he’d showed her, he was just hammering the nail on the head.

“And have you considered the stars of your horror show making a real appearance and countering the events of all your hard work, Phobos?” Deimos asked feigning disinterest, but the slight curl to his lip said otherwise.

“Maybe if you spent more time with your children, you would know them better. Faaya really is a daddy’s girl.”

[honeyedhoseok]

Noona

word count | 2.1k

genre | noona x jungkook; college au

warnings | profanity, smut (in the future) [M]

Part 2

Jungkook flicked his thumb upwards, scrolling past the endless pictures on social media of other university students unpacking their things, saying goodbye to their parents, some even already prepping for a night out on the town in celebration.

Jungkook’s own apartment was a disaster state, but not because of his own belongings he needed to unpack. He’d brought his clothes, video games, and bathroom stuff for good measure because that was most important. The scattered mess of boxes and unpacked totes that lay in the living room and kitchen were all from his hyungs he was rooming with this year, Jimin and Taehyung.

“Y/N’s not going to text you back any faster if you stare the screen like that, Kookie,” Jimin teased, unpacking a box full of blankets next to the couch and tossing one to Jungkook.

He draped it over the back with a scowl painted on his mouth. “I wasn’t waiting for her to text me bac—“ He was interrupted by the sound of his phone going off in his hand, a snapchat notification from you which he quickly opened. You were sitting with your roommate on your bed, a bunny-ear filter contorting both of your faces and making your eyes impeccably big. He snapped back a picture of his legs with Jimin in the background, typing out “How’s move in going?” lamely before he sent it.

“Dude you’re still talking to her? I thought you gave up on that,” Taehyung commented with a grunt, passing through with a large box of kitchen stuff in his hands. “Hey are you gonna keep dicking around on your phone or actually help us set this place up?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes but dragged himself off the couch and into the kitchen, placing cooking pots and pans under the sink in the extra cabinet space. “I never said I gave up on her, I said that I wasn’t going to try too hard from now on.”

Which was a lie.

Jungkook was trying extremely hard, and for all the wrong reasons. He knew you were older, probably out of his league, and deserved better. But he wanted you so bad it made his teeth ache. Most of it was physical, but he didn’t care. The emotions could come later, after he made you moan his name like a personal prayer.

“What you’re saying is you sent her a dick pic and she responded with how cute, so now your ego is hurt?” Taehyung snorted, darting out the way of Jungkook’s fist that shot out to punch him in the stomach.

“What I’m saying is,” Jungkook began, blowing out a breath, “It’s inevitable that it’s going to happen. So all I need to do is sit back and wait.”

Jimin’s cocked an eyebrow at his younger friend, “How are you so sure?”

Jungkook’s phone went off in his pocket then in perfect timing, making a smirk cross his features. “Why is she still talking to me, then?”

You were asking yourself the same question.

You’d gotten Jungkook’s snapchat after hanging out with him and his friends over the summer. They were all fooling around, doing ridiculous jumps off the diving board and into the pool. You’d noticed the younger boy’s broad shoulders and toned muscles from the moment he’d stripped his shirt off and dived in, and you hadn’t taken your eyes off him since.

Jungkook, noticing that you were videotaping him earlier, came over to sit beside you and ask you for your snapchat ID so that he could see the video. Your eyes wanted so badly to follow the trails of water that dripped from his hair and onto his chest, rolling down his pecs to the little trail of hair that dipped into the center of his trunks. Instead, you focused on his face, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he talked to you, the furrow of his eyebrows, the veins in his hands as they wrapped your phone to take a closer look.

Since then, your relationship was a flurry of normal conversations that turned increasingly flirty the later they spanned on into the night. Jungkook was very vocal about what he wanted from you, but you were doing everything you could in denying him the pleasure of getting it.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want him—god, did you—but there was something inside that tingled at the thought of riling the younger boy up. You wanted to keep him distant enough where he fawned after you, but close enough to keep the hope alive that you would eventually give him what he was craving.

It was a sick, twisted relationship that you two had going on, but it was much too fun to stop. However, the ante was upped the moment he decided to drop the bomb that he was going to be a freshman at the same college you went to. Jungkook was closer than ever to getting what he wanted, in the realist way possible, and you both had a feeling your flirtatious relationship was going to soon come to an end.

You snapped him one more picture with your tongue out, sending it with no caption to keep your streak alive as your roommate stood up from your bed, stretching. “I’m gonna go nap before we head out tonight, I have a feeling it’s gonna be a late one.”

You nodded, setting your phone aside. “I need to figure out what I’m wearing.”

“Why, all you’re going to do is talk to that kid all night long,” Yujin laughed, rolling her eyes.

“He’s not a kid!”

“Y/N, you’re a senior and he just got out of high school good.”

“So!” you retorted, your eyes twinkling with mischief. “He doesn’t look like a kid, that’s for sure.”

“Ah ah ah!” Yujin yelled, placing her hands over her ears and walking out of your room, “I don’t want to hear anything that has to do with what he looks like. He’s too young! End of story!”

You giggled as you heard her close the door to her own room, still mumbling nonsense to herself to drown out the sound of your voice. Your phone dinged again and you dived for it, counting to ten before you opened a picture from Jungkook.

What are you getting into tonight?

“Fuck, man, someone placed a fucking C4 right beside the door! How’s a guy supposed to camp in this building?”

“That’s the point. You don’t camp, you twat. You get down there and do some real work, like me!”

“Says the guy who’s thirteen and twenty-two.”

“Fuck you.”

Jungkook tossed his controller to the side as he noticed his phone lighting up beside him, ignoring the complaints that were trailing from Taehyung’s bedroom about the shittiness of their online team.

The three normally split up while they were gaming, but since they lived together now they had to come up with a different system. Jungkook was on his own console in his bedroom and Taehyung was doing the same in his, with Jimin joining in on the unlucky person who lost rock paper scissors. It was a bitch to play split screen while online, so Jungkook was going to make sure he always won.

Noona

Text Message received 8:51pm

I’m going out with my roommates tonight to celebrate moving in, wish you could come!

 Text Message sent 8:52pm

Don’t get too lit, wouldn’t want you going home with a random guy

 Of course he couldn’t come, he was too young to drink in public. Jungkook cursed himself for even sending something as insecure as that, but your quick reply made a smirk twitch at the corner of his mouth.

 Noona

Text Message received 8:53pm

Wouldn’t dream of it, little baby ;P

 The nickname annoyed him slightly, but it was kind of cute coming from you. Jungkook would deal with whatever it took if it meant that you’d finally come home with him one day. He sent you a smirk face emoji before tossing his phone to the side again, picking up his controller and rejoining the game that Jimin and Taehyung were still losing.

It was multiple games and hours later, when Jungkook was laying in his bed in the dark, when you sent him a random snapchat. He hadn’t expected to talk to you for the rest of the night considering you would be drinking with your roommates so he opened it quickly, his eyes grazing the picture seconds before it disappeared off his screen.

You were pouting in the backseat of a car, your roommates head rested on your shoulder, with the caption Yujin got sick so we left at the bottom.

Jungkook swiped right on your name, opening the chat feature in snapchat and quickly typing out Is everything okay?

 Y/N 12:22am

She’s fine

Really drunk

So am I tho lol

 Jungkook 12:24am

I told you to be careful

 Y/N 12:27am

I know

You should have been ther

I woud have been focused on u instead drinking

 Jungkook laughed at your grammar mistakes, shaking his head against the pillows on his bed.

 Jungkook 12:29am

Lol you’re wild

 Y/N 12:35am

And you’re cute

 His phone buzzed again, a snapchat of your bare legs in bed, obviously having made it safely back to your apartment and already put Yujin to bed. Jungkook sent a picture of his face, the flash blinding him a little with the brightness and showing off the paleness of his upper chest.

Your reply was instantaneous: hot

You didn’t know what made you type the words you did next, but you were sending them before you could think twice about what you were about to do. Jungkook and you both knew it was a bad idea to keep texting when you were drunk. Your conversations always went south this late at night, especially when you were under the influence. But the little shit always wanted them to go this way, even if it was just so he could tease you about it the next day.

Y/N 12:51

Fuck

You should come over

You waited, blinking at your screen in the dark at the words you’d just sent. Your fingers tightened around your phone as you watched the icon that let you know Jungkook was typing disappear and then reappear a few times. You blew out a breath of relief when he finally replied, a smile playing around the edges of your lips.

Jungkook 12:52am

Send me your fucking location

You giggled in the darkness, about to type out an address before realizing that you didn’t have the address of your new apartment memorized. Yujin knew, but she was fucking passed out drunk in her bed at that moment and no help to you whatsoever.

Y/N 12:54am

Ummmm

I don’t lnow it, its jst the apartments by the rec center

 Jungkook sent you frowning emoji.

 Jungkook 12:55am

Y/N I don’t know where the fuck that is

I just moved in today!!!!

 Y/N 12:56am

I’m sorry!!!!!!!!!!

 Jungkook 1:00am

Let me come see you tomorrow

You’re mean for teasing me like this

 You thought for a moment, picturing Jungkook in your apartment with Yujin’s judgy eyes watching his every move, and you were shaking the idea out of your swimming head before you could even dwell on it long.

 Y/N 1:02am

There’s a party tomorrow on campus, you jimin taehyung should come

We can meet..and I’m make up for tonight

 Jungkook, being the ever persistent one, immediately typed out: Oh yeah? How? You sent a smirk face back, playing coy.

  Y/N 1:05am

You’ll just have to wait and see

 Jungkook sent you a picture then, and you clicked on it nonchalantly, expecting another snap of him in the dark with his eyebrows furrowed and a somewhat flirty threat. What popped up on your screen took your breath away, your eyes darting to take it all in a memorize it in your head before it went away.

It was a picture of Jungkook’s lower half in his bed, the comforter pushed off his frame and towards the end of the bed where his bare feet rested. He was gripping his evident hard on through the material of his grey sweatpants, the tendons in his forearm standing out somewhat menacingly.

Don’t fucking tease me noona. Stop playing hard to get

The picture disappeared much too quickly for your liking and you sat in the darkness, feeling your blood rush to your already hot face. Your core was flooded with feeling suddenly, too, making you clench your thighs together underneath the white duvet that covered your bed.

You took a few breaths in and out before typing out an excited reply, biting your lip:

Y/N 1:11am

Im not teasing. Just wait until tomorrow

Goodnight

[dweebobeebo-blog]

Vegas

this is actually based off a dream i had not to long ago, the dream is literally burned into my mind

Warnings; None

People mentioned; Zack, Dallon, Dan, and Kenny

Y/h/n (your husbands name)

Having been a panic! Fan since the age fifteen and having always wanted to go to a panic concert or even just meet them all in public it never seemed to happen, I got married at eighteen, wasn't my brightest idea in my book but then again you're only young and dumb once.

Being 24 now, practically begging my husband to come with me to the panic concert, he agreed reluctantly, I squealed and danced around like a little girl something he wasn't to fond of me doing. Being seven years older than me is sometimes a curse because he doesn't exactly Always Know how to let lose and have fun. He always would poke fun at me when I would be' immature and acting like a twelve year old girl'

We weren't always the happiest married couple put there we've had our fair share of three fights a night, I made sure to look exceptionally better than I usually do, him wearing a t-shirt and shorts. Wow great effort

"A/G/N are you ready!" I shout from the front door, he groaned angrily and stormed out to the car well okay.

When we got to the concert, it was packed. I honestly couldn't wait to see them live for once I k now I'm fucking 12! We got to our seats and made very little small talk, him mainly on his phone talking to his 'guys' I was talking to a couple people next to me

"You're seriously so pretty!!"

"Oh thanks, I'm Y/n by the way" I smile at the girl

"I'm Sabrina and this is Connor my friend" Sabrina says we  continue to talk until the show starts and once it does Sabrina Connor and I are dancing and singing like a bunch of fools, Connor then started recording Sabrina and I

"We have to exchange numbers!" We sat at the same time with a laugh , I look at my husband to see him with a weird annoyed look, pop punk, or punk in general wasn't his thing.

They start to play 'lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off'

I grin and sing along to it Sabrina and I doing some of what we would call sexy dances, having being fairly close to the stage we know damn well they can see us! Oh well, I wonder how it feels to he back in his hometown.

When the show was finally done, y/h (chosen name) went straight to the car probably lighting up a cigarette, Sabrina and I decided to linger and look around some merch. We heard some girls screaming and we looked, the group was walking out to talk to some fans and take pictures, Zack staying close to them, we continued looking and I was bumped into

"Woah shit I'm sorry!" I recognize that voice it's Brendon

"Hey it's okay little bump or punch never hurt anyone" I laugh, his face Instantly lit up

"Good I'm still sorry" he smiles "did you enjoy the show"

"We did, but my husband didnt" I laugh "you did good"

"Thanks! See yah round ..?"

"Y/n" I smile

"See yah around y/n" he patted my shoulder and they left, Sabrina looked at me and smiled I just rolled my eyes and we went outside Connor was by my husband.

"He was intruiged by you" sab says "you were intruiged by him"

"Sab were both married shush", we offered to give Sabrina and Connor a ride home, we made sure to give each other our numbers

×× "I'm stopping to get gas want anything from inside" I ask

"No thanks though" he replies, I nodded and went inside to pay for the gas and me a drink, I was parched I didn't want to go home just yet but he does. I pay and turn around hearing a group of laughter coming in, the group of attractive married men again I laugh to myself

"Oh hey I bumped into you at the arena" Brendon speaks up

"Oh hi" I laugh "yeah."

"Where are you headed ?" Dan speaks up

"Home. The Mr isn't happy I drug him to the concert tonight " I sigh

"How long have you been married?" Brendon asks

"Since I was eighteen he was twenty-five" I mentally slap myself " I could kick myself for doing that"

"Woah" they all say "thats young"

I just nod and laugh, and we talk some more

"I should go before he gets even madder" I grumble "it was nice meeting you all!" They opened their arms for a hug and I Glady accepted it I finally got to meet panic!

When we got home, he went to bed thank God. He had to be up at six anyways. I sat in the living room with the tv on it being the only light source besides my phone

I sigh, I can't seem to get what sab said to me walking out to the car, was he really intrigued? Enough to go past his wife..? I decide I would text her and see what she thinks

Me; it's y/n sabrina, I can't get what you said out of my head

I scrolled through twitter to see a bunch of stuff about the concert, I got a notification from someone following me back, I went and looked. Did Dan just follow me back? Huh I must be dreaming. I shrugged it off and went to Instagram

Sab: he had an intrigued look when he saw you! I wouldn't lie

Me: we saw each other at the gas station we all talked. Dan just followed on Twitter as well I think I'm dreaming :p

I get another notification from Twitter this time it being a dm and some more people following me. Yup that's it this is definitely a dream

Danpawlovich - you're y/n from the show right the one Brendon bumped into? Dandilionbaby- actually yes! How'd you find me so easily ? :P Danpawlovich- your picture i had to contact you, Brendon was well I don't know how to say this but into you a bit? Dandilionbaby- he's married ? And I am too Dan, thanks for telling me this though he's a interesting man..

I want to know why people are saying this, why does they think he's intrigued by me? He's married to a beautiful woman.

Danpawlovich- well he is intrigued, he wants to chat more. And meet up. He's always here in Vegas a lot. :p why not you can he good friends!

Dandilionbaby-well maybe! I'm headed to bed maybe tomorrow we can have lunch :)

I head upstairs, plugging my phone in and changing, brushing my teeth and laying down right before I doze off Dan replies

Danpawlovich- we all agreed and said yes! Just let us know when tomorrow!

Dandilionbaby- sounds great!

What the hell is happening right now? We run into each other ones at the show, then after at the gas station and not even and hour later his drummer Dan finds me and messages me. This has to be a damn dream.

××

I woke up around ten, my husband didn't even try to wake me to say goodbye he's so mad about me making him go, I grabbed my phone and saw a message from Sabrina and Dan

Sab- now I'm intruiged! :P I feel like a little girl again

Me- so do I!

I laugh and realize I probably shouldn't seeing how I'm supposed to have lunch with the guys, I grab a cup of coffee instead

Danpawlovich- we need it to be low-key is that fine?

Dandilionbaby- of course! If you would rather I can make us lunch here at my house?

I run upstairs to the master room and change into jeans and a nice shirt

Danpawlovich- won't be a bother? We don't want to intrude

Dandilionbaby- husband is at work and of course it won't be don't be silly Dan I would love it. Mi casa su casa

I laugh to myself and start cleaning around the house, I'm so glad we don't have animals or kids right now but I do get rather lonely when he's at work

Danpawlovich- if you insist! Just send me your address we will be there shortly love

I sent him the address, and picked up some more, throwing my hair into a messy bun. I was nervous to have these dudes over we just met. It's so odd. The doorbell rings and I rush to get it, seeing them all in back jackets and sunglasses, i open the door and smile

"Come in come in" I say, and they Do, taking off their hoods and sunglasses "welcome to my lonely yet humble abode"

"It's nice" Dan speaks, they follow me to the kitchen where I take out the pizza I made

"So why did you actually want this?" I question them putting slices on the plates and setting them down in front of the boys

"You were so chill, you're cute but yet lonely " Brendon says " I admire the chill fans"

"Well thanks Brendon" I smile and sit down  "I am rather lonely. Not having kids or animals I don't have much to do"

"Well consider your day booked!" Dallon says "the Mr won't mind will he?"

"No and I don't care he didn't speak to me for the rest of the night" I scoff

As the day went on, the guys had me I'm tears from laughing so hard, it's like I've known them forever. But the more I around Brendon the worse the urge to kiss him gets.

"We're going to the strip tonight why don't you come" Brendon suggests

"Yah it'll be fun!" Dan says

"Sure okay what time?" I ask

"Around about 8 we can pick you up" Brendon says with a smile I just not "great we gotta get going though see you later"

"Bye guys !" I hug them all when they leave I clean the kitchen, knowing it'll take me forever to find out what time wear I go rummage through the closet, settling on some jeans that make my ass look great and a shirt that showed not to much cleavage but not to less and it looked good

Me: hey honey, I'm going out tonight with some friends you can go see the boys if you want :*

I hoped into the shower, washing everything better than I normally would something I've always fine before going out, when I'm done I dry off, starting on my hair making it wavy, doing little to none makeup

××

It's almost eight, my husband is home fucking around on his phone and playing video games, not even. Remotely caring I was leaving.

Danpawlovich- we on our way don't forget your id!

Dandilionbaby- of course not!!

I put on my heels grabbing my purse, grabbing my keys in case he locks the doors before I get home which he probably will

"I'm leaving honey" I say leaning down to place a kiss on his cheek, he just nods and rubs my hand. I walk out and sit on the porch steps waiting for the guys, when they pull up I stand up dusting my bottom off and walking to the car

"Hey you!" Dan smiles "you look good"

"You really do" Brendon and dallon add at the same time

"Awh thanks ! You all look nice as well" I say I nudge Kenny and Dan making them chuckle "so cheer me up what's going on tonight?"

"So casino, gamble a bit, eat drink walk drink some more" Kenny says "your feet will kill you"

"Eh I'm used to it. Practically forced to wear heels when I go to a business dinner with Mr. " I sigh

"No fun" brendon says. They turn on the radio and blare the music and we all dance and sing along

When we reach the strip and get out, they look like body guards for me, I laugh to myself when Kenny holds the door open Dan and Dallon on both sides of me holding their hands out so I take them and step out of the car

"Why thank you gentlemen" I laugh

"Your highness the man awaits" they laugh Zack and Kenny show casing Brendon like show girls, we all break into a fit of laughter.

[dipifica]

10 Things AU Chapter 2!

hi all! i know this story hasn’t been touched for quite some time (to you guys at least, i privately updated every once and a while) but i figured i would get chapter 2 out of the ten things i hate about you au (still not named). if im being completely honest, writing this story is fun but editing is not and im 100% lazy. i have general direction with this one since it’s based off something that already exists but still things are pretty up in the air. i know i’ll have to do chapters were wenbel and dippica actually start to like each other but figuring out the scenes is the hard part. i know how they all feel and what conversations need to be had, but setting it up in a fun way has been a bit troubling. because i know myself and know my processes i thought id release what i have of chapter 2. i received a very nice message about this story which sparked this idea so thank you @blue--winter ! if you read this all thanks and i would adore any feedback!

tl;dr: unfinished story, things subject to change, i’m lazy, read the story under read more

“Alright, kid,” the older man cleared his throat loudly. “You’ll be manning the gift shop while I take these bozos on tours. Just take people’s money and sell everything you can. Real simple stuff.” He coughed again as Wendy wondered about his age. 

“Okay, Stan.” She replied. She was used to working retail, she had been hired and fired from around five different stores and a low key, run down gift shop sounded like the perfect part time job for her. “Just leave it to me.”

“You can call me Mr. Pines.” He muttered as he walked away. “Some of your co-workers will probably be around today, so don’t waste your time trying to sell to them.” He grabbed his 8-ball cane from the wall, took a breath, and open the door. “Ladies and Gentlemen, are you ready for the weirdest, creepiest, most jaw-dropping-eat experience of your pathetic lives!” Wendy could hear cheers before the door shut completely. She respected her new boss a little bit more for his stunning performance. 

She leaned back in her chair and kicked her feet up and scrolled through her phone. She read back her messages from Gideon from last night.

Gideon Gleeful: it seems pacifica’s attempt with dipper didn’t go so well….

Wendy Corduroy: what! why! did she say something to you?

Gideon Gleeful: the fact she didn’t say anything is telling enough, when i tried to ask she told me to ‘buzz off.’ she gets even more stereotypical mean girl when she's pissed

Wendy Corduroy: are we sure dipper isn’t gay? sorry but who WOULDN’T accept pacifica’s advances?

Gideon Gleeful: we’re sure. i wouldn’t, she’s an asshole. dipper probably thinks the same thing. we just have to make him see she’s not an asshole. 

Wendy Corduroy: but she is an asshole

Gideon Gleeful: she’s gonna have to be a good actor. i’m adding her into this message.

Gideon Gleeful added Pacifica Northwest

Pacifica Northwest: ugh. i don’t have any updates losers. 

Pacifica Northwest: you idiots know i can read the past messages right? fuck off, i’m not an asshole

Gideon Gleeful: it’s why we loooooove you paz!!

Pacifica Northwest: you make me want to vomit gleeful

Wendy Corduroy: wanna tell us how it went yesterday?

Pacifica Northwest: well, you figured it out already. it went not well. he snubbed me, the stupid dork. he’s too preoccupied with his dumb mystery stuff to even give a girl attention, i think we need to call it off.

Gideon Gleeful: that’s just what you want 

Pacifica Northwest: well, yeah.

Wendy Corduroy: is there any reason he would reject you? 

Pacifica Northwest: he’s always been like this, in his own world and shit

Gideon Gleeful: wait, what?

Wendy Corduroy: pacifica, do you and dipper have a past or something?

Pacifica Northwest: uh, no? i just have been in school with the pines for my entire high school career so i know things about them, and other people for that matter. its a small school, i don't need a “past” with anybody to know basic knowledge about someone.

Pacifica Northwest: you guys figure out what you want to do. i’m going to bed.

Pacifica Northwest has left the group message

Wendy Corduroy: that was weird

Gideon Gleeful: it was….interesting…

A loud slam hit the counter next to Wendy’s feet and she suddenly jerked up, face to face with someone she was certainly not expecting.

“Hi! Wendy, right?” Mabel Pines beamed from across the counter. “I’m sorry if I scared you with the boxes.” She did a similar little giggle to the one she had during their first encounter, making Wendy’s heart dance. 

“Mabel, hi.” She tried to play it her usual cool self and it helped her calm down. “Not that it isn’t great to see you, but what are you doing here? Looking for some “Magic Frog Eyeballs?” She read the container full of obviously plastic eyeballs next to her.

Mabel laughed again. “No, silly, I’m dropping off the new shirts for the Shack. That’s what’s in the boxes.” 

“Oh, do you work at the manufacture’s shop or something?”

“I work here, you didn’t know?” Mabel questioned. “Well, the Mystery Shack is family owned! My great-uncle Stan, Dipper, and I work here together. And our handyman, Soos, he’s basically one of the family too.”  

Wendy’s face burned bright red. She was her co-worker. Not only that, but her family owned her place of work. Fate either loved her or hated her. “Wow,” Wendy mustered a cool chuckle. “I gotta say, I’m embarrassed that I had no idea.”

Mabel gave another bright smile. “Oh don’t be! It’s not like the Mystery Shack is a huge sight for new-comers like yourself. I don’t think I would have known about it if my family wasn’t involved.” Mabel’s face turned a bit colder. “Besides, it’s more a curse than a blessing to be associated with this place.”

“Because of your brother?” Wendy put a hand over her mouth just after the sentence was uttered. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like-“

Mabel smiled again, only slightly and Wendy worried if she had just ruined her chances. Along with the fact she didn’t want to insult such a nice girl. “No, it’s fine. People talk and it seems like Dipper is usually the name in everyone’s mouths. I’m used to it.” Mabel pulled herself up from leaning on the counter. “I should go, I’m meeting up with some friends.” She began to turn away and Wendy felt utterly terrible. “Oh, Wendy?” She faced her again. “Can I ask you a favor?”

“Sure.” 

“Please don’t believe everything everyone says about my brother.” Mabel said with pleading eyes. “He’s…my best friend. He’s a really sweet, good guy, he’s just passionate about…weird stuff. It breaks my heart people think he’s not good. I really want things to turn around for him.”

Wendy saw the pain Mabel endured whenever someone degraded Dipper in that moment. The pain of seeing a loved one suffer and not being able to help. “I won’t. If you say he’s a good guy, I believe you.”

Mabel smiled gently at Wendy. “Thank you.” Mabel laughed loudly, seemingly turning around her mood. “Wow, I’m sorry for getting so serious like that, and we just met, you probably think I’m such a weirdo. I guess I feel like I can trust you already, Wendy.” 

Wendy blushed slightly and, for what felt like the hundredth time in this short meeting, tried to keep her cool. “You love your brother, nothing weird about that. I sure as hell know I love mine.” 

“You are too cool, Wendy.” Mabel parted with this and seemed to flow out the door. 

Wendy sighed and watched the door lovingly and thought about how whipped she was already. 

“Uh, hi?” A voice said from the other side of the counter.

Wendy recognized the boy as the Dipper Pines. The vital piece to her plan to get her girl. She felt like this already knew him, having talked about him so much in her few days here, but realized they had never been formally introduced.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Hi.” Wendy greeted. “You’re Dipper, right? I’m Wendy. I’m your new cashier.”

The two shook hands. “Yeah, Stan told me something about a new employee. I’m surprised someone even applied.”

“Well, to be honest, I’m not really one for hard work. This seemed easy.” Wendy admitted.

Dipper smiled and Wendy thought about how much he really did look like Mabel. “You chose the right job. Not many people roll through here. Trust me, I’m usually the one in your chair.”

“Oh, your sister doesn’t work much?” 

“She’s more social than I am. Parties and friends and all that.” Dipper trailed off. “Besides, I guess you can say I’m more into the whole idea behind the Mystery Shack. But you knew that already, didn’t you?”

“I…uh…” Wendy stuttered, Dipper was more upfront than she thought he would be.

He chuckled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I’m aware what people say about me. I figured it would have gotten around to even a new kid like you.” 

Wendy considered lying to him, saying she didn’t hear anything, but remembered Mabel could tell him at any point about their conversation from just moments ago. “I…have heard some things, yeah.” Dipper nodded. “But, uh, I don’t believe what everyone is saying. I know this is our first conversation but you have a sister like Mabel so I’m sure your just as good.” 

Dipper remained silent for a moment and smiled again. “Well, I don’t know about just as good, but I appreciate you saying so.”

Just then, the door to the gift shop swung open revealing a familiar face to both Dipper and Wendy. “Helloooooooo, Mystery Shack!” Gideon greeted.

“Ugh.” Dipper mumbled. 

“Gideon.” Wendy simply stated. “What are you doing here?”

“Came to see my favorite cashier at my favorite creepy, weird, and totally fake gift shop. Really, Pines, tell your uncle to step the game up.” 

“At least we have a shop, you failed psychic.” Dipper rolled his eyes. 

“We don’t talk about that Pines. Besides, I was like nine, let it go.” He glared. “So how goes….things, Wendy?” Gideon eyed Dipper.

“Wendy, you don’t have to humor this idiot.” Dipper said. “Is she your new object of affection after failed Mabel attempts?”

“Wendy’s gay and we’re friends, try again.” Gideon snapped.

“You two are friends?” Dipper turned to face Wendy.

“He showed me around school my first day. He’s a little weird, but I’m having fun with it.” Wendy shrugged.

“A little weird?” Gideon repeated.

“You are really something.” Dipper told Wendy. “Well, I guess it’s good you aren’t so affected by high school gossip. Even when you should be.” Dipper’s eyes darted to Gideon.

“Look who’s talking, Mr. I’ve-been-suspended-three-times-for-putting-the-entire-student-body-in-danger!” Gideon growled.

“That’s way too long of a last name!” Dipper face palmed. “I’m going, I can’t stand to be around you for more than a couple of minutes.”

“Aw, best friends forever, Dippy!” Gideon waved sarcastically. 

“Bye Wendy.” Dipper ignored Gideon and shut the door on his way out.

“I thought he would ever leave.” Gideon sighed.

“It’s his house.” Wendy remarked. “By the way, I had no idea the Pines owned this place! Ugh, I was so embarrassed when I ran into Mabel today.”

“How’d it go?”

Wendy thought back to the time. “Not as bad as you would think. I think she at least likes me as a person.” 

“Well, it’s not you and Mabel we have to worry about anyway, it’s-“

“Me and Dipper.” A voice called from the door.

“You’re late, Northwest.” Gideon checked his watch.

“I’m a busy girl, and I had to make sure no one saw me come in here. I almost got caught by Dipper on his way out.” She slumped down in a stool next to Wendy. “Why did you call me here?”

“I’m wondering the same thing.” Wendy stated, she did enjoy the distraction from the otherwise boredom of work.

“Because it seems fairly obvious we need to have a more of a concrete plan set here. Pacifica,” Gideon turned to her. “You don’t have to tell us shit but you do need to do seduce Dipper, in any way possible. I think you need to apologize to him, since it seems like you did something to him.” 

“You guys didn’t say anything about apolo-apologi- I can’t even say it!” Pacifica crossed her arms. She didn’t feel the need to inform them of her previous half-assed apology to him.

“What did you expect? He was still going to fall for you after you did something bad to him?”

“Uh, yeah? It’s happened plenty of times before.” She flipped her hair.

“This is Dipper. You are gonna need to show him you can be sweet. Even though you aren’t.”

“Hey!” Pacifica yelled. 

“He’s not going to fall for the real you. So he will have to fall for the fake you.” Gideon stated simply. “Fake Pacifica is the opposite of real Pacifica.”

“So, ugly and boring?” 

“I was thinking more nerdy and nice. Just…be interested in his weird habits, leave Mabel alone, and laugh at his dumb jokes. And apologize.” Gideon demanded. Wendy was surprised at how much her new friend took charge. “And you,” Wendy suddenly found herself the target. “Be prepared to ask Mabel out at any moment. Dipper’s unpredictable and we can’t have some other girl or guy showing you up when the news hits Mabel is able to date.”

“Is she that sought after?” Wendy asked.

“You fell for her with one glance and you aren’t exactly special.” Pacifica piped up. “As weird as Mabel can be, she's cute and nice to everyone, so people are naturally drawn to her. Don’t ask me why, I don’t fucking get it.”

“Unlike you who gets their suitors by being cold and demeaning.” Gideon replied.

“It’s not my fault guys love the chase.” Pacifica smirked. “Are we done here?”

“Do you have a plan for getting Dipper?” Gideon questioned. “It’s hard to trust you. No offense.”

Pacifica rolled her eyes and groaned. “Gleeful, I’m pretty and not dumb okay? I know how to make a dweeb fall in love with me. Of course I have a plan.” Pacifica picked up her purse and stood up. “I have some shopping to get to now. Meeting adjured.”

“You can’t call meeting adjured when I called the meeting-hey!” Gideon shouted. “Are you at least going to tell us your plan!” 

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“Northwest secret, sorry!” Pacifica chuckled, shutting the door.

[creepingdarkness]

The Drunken Matchmaker

wordcount: 1343

warnings: swearing, alcohol/drunkenness

notes: I just wanted to upload something so heres a bit of a draft I’ve had for ages

*ring-ring ring-ring*

A loud groan echoed around the room as Craig woke up. Rapidly blinking his eyes to clear the blur as he reached for his glasses then the relatively bright glow of his phone in the darkness of his bedroom. Glancing at the caller ID he sighed before answering. “David you had better be dying its fucking,” he paused to glance at the alarm clock on his bedside table “almost half-past 2 in the morning!” he said with his groggy voice going high in dismay at his realization of the time.

“Craiiiiiiiiig!” the almost obnoxiously loud voice on the other end of the line slurred heavily over the pounding base of the music in the background “Buddyy can I ask a favour?”

Wincing Craig held the phone further away from his ear. “What do you need?” he sighed heavily, getting out of his bed as he had already guessed what his drunken friend wanted. He grabbed his clothes discarded on the floor from the previous day, too tired to pick a new outfit when that one was clean enough and he figured he wouldn’t be out for long anyway.

“Well I came to the bar with Lui, but he had to leave early.”

“Annnnd?” Craig drawled, pulling up his jeans as he moved about his room getting ready.

“I kind of forgot he was my ride, so could you please please please pick me up?” David begged.

Craig just sighed. “Alright, but you owe me one! What’s the address of the place you’re at?”

“Thank god you’re the best Craig!” David’s overly loud cheer made Craig wince once again, already regretting his decision even as he grabbed his keys.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After finding the bar Craig parked down the street from it, making sure to grab his phone and keys before hopping out of the car and locking it up. Walking up the street he passed several small groups already out on the sidewalk, their loud voices and unsteady movements making it clear that they had come from one of the bars on this street. Taking care to avoid running into anyone stumbling around he finally reached the front of the building David said he was at. Pulling out his phone he started scrolling through his contacts when two men came out of the building in a burst of music before the door swung shut behind them, the dark haired one narrowly avoiding a nasty fall down the stairs when the other managed to catch him around the waist as he tottered dangerously back and forth at the top of the entrance.

“Jesus David how much did you have to drink?” The other guy laughed. At the sound of his friends name Craig did a double take, realizing the dark-haired guy was indeed his friend. Putting away his phone he slowly walked over to the duo. Taking in the strangers appearance he noticed he didn’t really look like someone who had been out clubbing, considering he appeared totally sober and was also wearing zebra print pajama bottoms and a ratty old shirt. Reaching them he waited for the pair to notice him, reluctant to interrupt their conversation.

Catching sight of him the man supporting his friend quirked an eyebrow before asking in a not unfriendly tone “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure what you guys were going to do but my friend here called me to pick him up.” Craig said, stopping his subconscious picking at the bottom of his shirt to point at David who was oblivious to the exchange currently going on.

“Nice try buddy but he actually called me to pick him up, so go try that shit with someone else.” The man replied, voice slightly colder than before as he tugged on David to get him moving away from Craig.

“Shit?!” his voice rose indignantly “What sort of-” he started saying before getting cut off by David, who upon finally spotting him immediately went for a hug. Unfortunately though the man who was still holding David hadn’t been ready for the sudden lunge, and ended up getting pulled along with him causing him to crash into the hugging pair, nearly knocking them all over.

“Craiiiiig! You came!” Craig could hear David nearly yelling even as distracted as he was trying to keep them up, grabbing the nearest thing he could to avoid falling on his ass. Unluckily he had grabbed the strangers shoulders, dragging them all together into an awkward three way hug. David was the first to recover leaving Craig alone against the guy.

He felt a warm steadying hand against his hip, helping him catch his balance. Once steady he quickly pulled away and stepped back to a more comfortable distance. After dusting off some invisible dust bunnies he looked up to meet the other man’s gaze, about to thank the stranger when he noticed the large smirk he was wearing.

“Geez ‘Craig’ I just met you and you’re falling for me already?” Seemingly more relaxed now that it was clear Craig actually knew David, most of it was said in joking tone, but the way he said his name made it seem like he was trying to get a rise out of him. Instead of replying Craig just rolled his eyes and turned to David, ready to get this night over with as quickly as possible.

“David you got all your stuff right? Because its time to say goodbye to your ‘friend’ and get you home.” He huffed out, letting a small amount of annoyance seep into his voice, putting a bit of emphasis on the word friend partially out of spite and partially because he still didn’t know his name.

“Oh hell no, I did not come all the way down here for nothing!” the guy interrupted whatever David was about to say. “He called me to pick him up so I’ll be the one taking him home.” the guy paused before giving him a once over, nodding to himself before his voice took on a slightly flirtier tone as he leaned in towards him and added “I wouldn’t mind if you came with us though.”

“Yessssss! Were all gonna hangout together!”

“Oh no we are not! I’m taking you home while he-”

“Tyler” the man in question unhelpfully interjected.

“While Tyler goes back to wherever he came from, alright?” he finished with a glare towards Tyler.

Instead of replying David simply flopped to the ground in a boneless heap, attracting some concerned stares from other patrons exiting the bars onto the street. “Are you okay?!” Craig said rushing over to David side, relieved when he nodded his head against the filthy cement. “Then what are you doing?”

“I don’t want to go.” David replied resolutely, while a few of the nosier people on the street drew closer to the trio.

“David if you’re fine get up, you’re causing a scene!” Craig hissed while Tyler just smiled and waved at the people staring.

“Only if Tyler comes with us!” David declared, raising one arm to point his finger skyward.

Craig glanced at Tyler, who only shrugged to show he was okay with whatever Craig decided. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but Tyler didn’t seem all that bad when compared with all the negative with all the attention they were drawing, so his resolve quickly crumbled. “Alright he can come with us for a bit, if he’s okay with that.

“Hell yeah! But we’re taking Tyler’s car since his backseats way comfier than yours.”

And with that he lunged up-right before running off incredibly fast for someone who nearly fell over while simply walking minutes ago.

Tyler stepped up beside him, draping his arm around him that despite its probably friendly intent made his heartbeat speed up. “I personally think your ‘backseat’ is nice Craig.” and with a wink he removed his arm and clapped him on the back, walking off after David towards an older looking car before Craig could splutter out a reply about how Tyler had never even seen his car.

[thelostbutfoundstories]

Love in this day in age.

Love. Love is such a powerful word. For some people it can send chills rippling through their stomachs and flutters bouncing all around their stomach. But for others, its just a word. A word that they use to make someone stay. A word to fulfill someones sexual desires. A word that may not even be real. Love is a long lost word that I feel no one really takes seriously anymore. A word so Powerful that it makes my heart swell with happiness and grateful.

Let me back up for a moment. Let me explain. Let me explain why I feel so strongly about the word love. Also from experience. At the age of 15, I was only a teenager running around trying to fulfill my wants and “needs”. I had a group of really close friends that all hung out every weekend. It was amazing and I never thought id come across a better group of friends in my life. I thought I had it made. There was about eight of us at the beginning. We had a few couples in the group at the time as well, but we all accepted it. They were our friends, how couldn’t we!? Things went so well. Best friends, high school fun stuff. But once the age of 16 had hit, there was one thing about our group of friends that not many people had in their group. No Alcohol or drugs. Being a sophomore in high school that didn’t drink or smoke was WILD! We all really believed that we could have the time of our lives without being controlled by a toxic liquid courage, that controlled us like puppets on strings. Or this crazy fog type substance that made you feel silly and act the ways you never have before. That right there was love. We all bonded so well and did everything together. But one weekend, we had someone new come along. Someone with a bottle of that crazy, liquid courage shit. Half of the group put that bottle up to their lips and let the toxins slide right down their throat and into the stomach. The other half of us, were shook. We couldn’t fathom the horror that our friends did. We didn’t understand why they were so accepting to it after being so hateful towards it. Four of us parted ways and left the house we were hanging out at. One of the girls that had left with us just so happen to be in a relationship with one of the fellas that had stayed back to take part in the toxic activities. She had been stressing and worrying about the whole situation for here on out. Watching someone hurt, worry and stress is to who I am. It truthfully hurts me watching them kind of things take place. I tried my hardest to help her in any way I could, she’s one of my closest friends, I just had too.

I had been single for a while at this point, not really looking for anyone, nor shutting the idea out. My love life had just been on pause I guess for a while.

Fast Forward: Months have past, things never really got back to normal and our group of friends happen to split up into two groups. But remember that girl I tried to help? Yeah, well things didn’t get easier for her. They had split up. After dating someone for so long at that age, felling like you had loved them the whole time.. it kills you. It rips your heart out and gets ran over by a eighteen wheeler. I had messaged her on social media and told her I would be here for her whenever she needed me. For ANYTHING.

Weeks go by, we talk almost every single day. Me trying to hep her and distract her from what feels like the most terrible thing in the world. by the way, ill have to agree with her though, I as well feel like at that age a year or more relationship is a high deal I’ve dealt with it myself, it is a shitty thing and it odes weight heavy on you. But while we carry on conversations thats go just a little deeper then expected. I mean thats not a bad thing at all, I’m really enjoying this.

One night, I was at home.. just home relaxing on a winter vacation alone in my room. I just happen to click on this girls profile that I had been helping through hard times… and I had this weird feeling arise in the pit of my stomach. Was confused on what this feeling was and why? i Scroll upon this picture of me, her and two other friends. It was a goofy one. But was locked on her. This feeling it my stomach was getting worse and I felt nervous. I brushed off this weird feeling and kept on with my night. But my curiosity kept my mind on cruise control with tunnel vision. As I sat there in my room, on my bed and thinking what possibly could this be and why? I laid back into my bed and began to dose off, slowly fading out and into my dreams… I hear a soft voice next to me speaking in my direction. Its so soft and gentle. I turn my head and notice I’m near a pool. No one is around, just me and the soft spoken voice. Is it down on the edge of the pool and sink my feet into the chilling yet refreshing water. I warm finger runs along my shoulder working its way from the right to the left. i look to my right to glance at who is touching me. As I do, I hear someone sit down to my left. “I was hoping to see you here.” Says the soft voice. I turn my head to the right. I lock eyes on this beautiful women. Brown eyes, brown hair. With a solid yellow bikini. The chilling water felt like ice. Goosebumps ran up my legs, through my body and to my finger tips. Ive seen this women before, just not sure where? words finally spilled from my mouth. “How did you find me here?”. a smile grows upon her face as she glances down at the Cristal blue water. “I know you better then you think, silly”. She then lifts off the edge and slides into the pool. The yellow bikini sinks underwater and through to the other side, then disappears. She’s gone. I stand up in confusion and disbelief. I was thinking to myself “No! That not it, I need more! Need to know more!”. I turn around, scrambling for a towel. i wrap myself in this body devouring towel. Is it down, strongly press my palms to my eyes. “Time to go so soon?” Said the soft voice. Quickly as I possibly can I remove my hands from my face and look up towards the voice. Its her. I stand up and looks a couple inches down from eye level and ask her “Where do I know you from?” She laughs softly, “Right here babe.” She leans in to get her face closer to mine. My hands creep up to her cheeks, to feels such a elegant and mesmerizing touch. She wraps her arms around to back. I get this weird feeling arise in my stomach. Our eyes our locked with each others with the keys no where to be found. No words are spoken. I lean in to feel this soft lips of this beautiful angle. We get closer and closer. My heart starts thumping harder and harder. I prepare myself for this moment. A kiss, but not just any kiss. A kiss with such an amazing person. I know nothing on who she is, where she came from, yet I know this face. But I would love to know it better. My hand slides under her chin and pulls it up towards me. Our lips touch slowly. As my heart skips a beat, I jolt myself back to reality. I had awoken from this dream that I couldn’t understand but did not mind. I roll to my phone next to my bed. Nothing on the screen but one single message.

My mind drew a blank for a moment. Thats until my eyes had widened as far as they possibly could. My jaw dropped to the floor and I froze in disbelief. I jumped out of the bed with my phone gripped in my hand. I could not believe it. The girl in my dream was Ashley. But we can call her Ash. The girl I had been talking with for weeks on end. All along, I’ve been falling in love with the beautiful person and I didn’t even know.

Four and a half years later: I wake up to the annoying sound of an alarm. I reach blindly over to turn it off. I rub my eyes for a couple moments, then open them. Im looking up at a white ceiling. The room is cold, I am warm. I roll to my right side. I see the blanket is lifted as if there is someone under them. I slide closer to the risen blanket. I feel a warm, soft type of backside to Ash. I reach around the body, only to pull it closer. Brown hair comes closer to me, eventually resting in my face. The soft body is now touching my chest. And stomach. This feeling in the stomach arises from my stomach, but it keeps going up and up. It reaches my heart. My heart is happy, I am happy. Ash rolls over, exhaling slowly. We are now face to face. As her eyes slowly open, a smile slowly creeps to the surface of my face. My hand glides down her face. “ I Missed you” I say tiredly. “ she smiles back. I give her a kiss before turning to crawl out of bed. I sit at the edge of the bed, looking upon ash while she sleeps. At this moment of time I feel so many feelings. I feel lust, happiness and so much more. Ive never thought about something so deeply and so passionately. I never felt so strongly about my feelings for her, So protective, so happy for her, so… so proud. When I touch her skin, my heart feels happy. When our fingers interlock, I feel better. When I kiss her, my heart skips a beat. When I lay next to her I feel so… safe, so conformable. Memories run through my head. Long night time car rides, movie dates when we can’t let go of each others hands, Doing my running for the day with her in my passenger seat, long meaningful conversations, everything. The meaning of love hits me. I had finally figured it out. I found my person.

Love isn’t about getting what you want, nor just a word any people in a relationship say. Its not a word at all as a matter of fact. Its a feeling. A feeling that means you will do anything for that person. To do anything to make them smile, to make them feel okay. Anything to make them feel wanted.

When I say “ I Love you.” To Ash, it comes from the deepest place in my heart. The best, deepest place in my heart.

Love, is with Ash in this day in age.