#but exactly correct if the emojis are not in the word count generator

[coffeelouis]

written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Prompt: Wrath | Word Count: 666 | Rating: M | POV: Jeff | Relationships: Steve/Eddie | CW: None | Tags: Corroded Coffin

set somewhat ambigulously in the tuesday's gone with the wind universe, mostly in stealing goodie's name and personality bc like,, that's goodie! thanks @thisapplepielife for him love you 🫶

i also made up the song name, that's not from tuesday's gone, by that point i hadn't gotten far enough to figure out i was writing steve as their tour manager and basically set it in the universe. also i had eddie as the lead singer in this, so maybe this is an au of tuesday's gone

🎸😈

“Gareth, I really think this is a bad idea, man,” Jeff warned, hovering in the doorway. Gareth and Goodie were both crouched next to the sound equipment, Goodie observing as Gareth tinkered.

“It’s precisely what they deserve.”

“Exactly, we’ve warned them multiple times,” Goodie added, ever the pot-stirrer.

“We haven’t, in any way, indicated we’d go this far. We’ve just ribbed Eddie.”

“Nagged,” Gareth corrected.

“Relentlessly. And, would you quit it with the hand-wringing, man? You’re in or you’re out of this,” Goodie said decisively.

“And it’s not as if it’s anything new!” Gareth argued, **It’s just.. a different approach.”

“It’s completely different circumstances, though! And it digs at Steve, not Eddie.”

“Digging at Steve is how to you get to Eddie.”

At the same time, Goodie countered, “Steve will be fine—he’s fine about everything.”

“He’s used to us,” Gareth agreed, reaching up to test his work.

As the sound rang out in the empty theatre, Gareth let out a crow of victory, and Jeff felt his stomach sour.

“I really don’t feel good about this.”

“You don’t have to take credit then,” Gareth smirked, dusting his knees off and walking off in triumph to get ready for the show.

Goodie followed behind him, looking similarly smug—despite having contributed absolutely nothing.

🎸😈

Eddie had fought to play “The Harvest” towards the end of the setlist. It was a hard-fought battle when they’d begun this leg of the tour, Gareth argued it should be the opener. But, it was third to last, so Eddie was dripping in sweat and probably a little delirious by the time Jeff went in with the opening chords. He could see the man swaying around his microphone, his long hair falling into his eyes.

He figured that’s why it took him until the end of the second chorus to look up in confusion. Jeff quickly began watching his chords—as if they weren’t muscle memory by this point.

Gareth’s smirk gave the game away—that the backing track was not the pre-recorded moans that accompanied the song on it’s studio version; instead, Steve’s high-pitched moans that had leaked through the hotel walls nights earlier filled the venue.

Fury erupted across Eddie’s face. He stomped across the stage towards Gareth—guitar still in hand, and somehow still playing.

Jeff glanced behind him for backup from the crew, the stagehands, anyone. Instead, he saw Steve, a bright laugh inaudible, but clearly dancing across his face. His eyes were glittering with the creative wrath of the band.

Jeff, who’d seen him sternly lecture stagehands for incorrectly setting up equipment or tell off venue staff for stupid production mistakes, was surprised, but relieved at the reaction. It was an interruption to their planned schedule, and more than that an airing of an intimate moment; but, he supposed when it came to Eddie—or really, any of the band—he really did hold a soft spot.

Eddie was now standing at Gareth’s side, uselessly telling him off. Gareth certainly couldn’t hear him over his drum set, let alone the music the rest of them (Eddie included) were still playing. But Eddie continued on at it, over singing the next verse.

Jeff kicked his leg out at him, hoping to get this show back on the road—literally. They were approaching the next chorus and the moans coming in again; without Eddie to sing over them, they would be even more pronounced.

Eddie finally noticed, and abandoned Gareth to kick back at him, fighting before realizing that he was in fact signaling him to look off-stage at Steve, now waving and smiling at him. Eddie lost all fight, smiling back.

Jeff felt like he was invading on a moment to be watching as Steve rolled his eyes and jerked his head to the mic, telling Eddie to keep going. Eddie laughed too, and ducked bashfully back towards the front of the stage, chastened. He blew a kiss, Steve caught it.

Yeah, his bandmates were silly and vengeful, but they put on a damn good show.

[softluci]

trendy [hcs]

someone (@yourlocalsinnamonroll​ hi again!) sent me a request a Long time ago asking me to do more gen z headcanons, and i have been working on this on and off for Months. this is something that i’ve had on my mind for a long time, and it most definitely can be associated with/attributed to gen z. 

this isn’t sfw so Minors DNI, but for a fleeting, wonderful period of time, there was a trend on tiktok that went, “buss it, buss it…” are you familiar? that should be enough of a summary, right?

anyway, once again, for my peace of mind, minors dni, and reader is g/n as usual, enjoy!

[a/n: so because this is so long, this part is going to be, like, the actual headcanons, and then the backstory i have for this will be right here]

lucifer

“intrigued,” would be the best word to describe how he was feeling. it didn’t cover the full spectrum of emotions that washed over him, but it was definitely a start. he started forming coherent thoughts after the fifth loop, but that's his business🤨

for one, he was upset. you mean to tell him that you could dance like this the entire time, and you—first of all, you never offered to do it for him, or on him, and you know his obsession for you would increase tenfold he has an appreciation for dancing of any and all kinds. you were depriving him, and for what reason, exactly? have you never been acquainted with shame before? 

second of all, not only were you keeping this crucial information from him, but you told everyone, at the same time. why can't he ever have anything for himself? he should relax— it's not too big of a deal, he's not too hurt because he'd have you to himself soon enough.

well, really, right now. he is suddenly in dire need of entertainment, you understand. he just called you to tell you to come to his room, and he would be a liar if he said he didn’t like how nervous you sounded. 

mammon

can everyone, like, get out of hell for a few minutes? he needs to be alone. the video is on its nth loop. he's laying face down on his bed, trying to recover from the siege you just put him under—how dare you?

you're supposed to be his—his cinnamon apple, his human, his everything—and you sent this to the group chat? is nothing sacred? is nothing in this world for him alone? what is wrong with you, genuinely? most importantly, why haven’t you ever even offered to dance with him? 

really, he's hurt. betrayal of this magnitude is bound to sting, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise. 

now, the pain of your treason aside, that was very easily the best thing he’s seen in a decade. before he collapsed face-first onto his bed, he was watching very intently, for at least two full minutes. he was actually so invested that questions didn’t form in his mind until, like, the tenth loop—but that was neither here nor there. now that he was recovering from the bomb you dropped, he had half a mind to go to your room and interrogate you among other things. 

unfortunately for you, he really only operates with half of his mind anyway, so he was already out the door. however, you have nothing to be afraid of. as we know, mammon is a man easily crumbled. all you have to do to disarm him is ask him if he liked it.

levi 

he knew. 

he didn’t know, like, exactly what was going to happen after he helped you trick out your d.d.d, but he knew it was gonna be fucking Something. 

he didn't even get through the video, actually—the beat dropped, so did you, and, suddenly,  his phone was across the room. his face was a deep crimson, and his thoughts were barely coherent, but he was already out of his bedroom.

simply put, he knew his brothers. he knew at least two of them would be on their way to you soon enough, but they wouldn't get there before him. he knew what he was going to do before his thoughts were fully formed. he'd get there, he'd bring you back to his room, he'd hide out with you in one of his cursed games—he would help you. if the two of you went slow enough playing it, everyone would have calmed down by the time you got back, right? right. 

was he being a bit dramatic? of course not! you would be safest with him, tucked away from his brothers until he was certain they wouldn't try anything. you know them, you know how they get, right? he'd never do anything like that unless you wanted him to. you are his best friend, and, really, he owes you this safety. this is at least twelve percent his fault. 

satan 

oh. oh, wow.

now, how many times did he watch that video? he doesn't know, he wasn't counting. he wouldn't tell you even if he was. he needs to maintain some kind of dignity here—not that there was anything undignified about being attracted to you, of course. it was just, well, you know—he was better than his brothers. 

in general, not when it came to you, but, even still. he's at a level of self control that they can't even conceive. now, have you been slowly, but surely, ebbing away at his centuries of hard work? yes. did this video put something of a dent in his poise? yes. 

but, in all honesty, it was fine. satan was smarter than all of his brothers, more patient—you know, better. he knew exactly how he would go about this. 

he wouldn't talk to you about this tonight, tomorrow, or the next day. he would play a waiting game, lure you into a false sense of security—and then, when you think you can trust him, when you think he's forgotten or just wants to show you mercy—then. he would come for you then. just wait for him.

asmo

miffed. he was miffed. like, arms crossed, tapping his foot on the floor, shaking his head—miffed.  once he was done staring at his screen for five minutes, he had about seven bones to pick with you. 

first of all, why didn't you come to him if you wanted to do your makeup and pick an outfit to film in? he's not saying you looked bad—believe him, he was staring for a reason—but you would've looked so much better if you let him style you. second of all, you had the absolute gall to make something like this and not invite him to join you? you're a villain. no, really—

but what really got him—what really drove him up a wall—was the fact that you never even hinted at the fact that you could dance like that. why did you keep such crucial information from him? he wasn’t even gonna think about the fact that you had yet to do it on him, it would be too much for him to process at once—your audacity would become palpable. he should really calm down, getting this upset is bad for his skin. 

now that he’s thinking about it, you were wearing a full face of makeup. it hasn’t been that long since you sent the video, you’re probably still wearing it, right? well, he wouldn’t be a good friend if he didn’t help you take it off! he knows he was a bit peeved a few minutes ago, but, well, that was a few minutes ago! now, as he reflected on his initial reaction to your video, he was in a forgiving mood. he was already on his way to your room to help you with undressing unwinding, and, admittedly, to tease you a little a lot—he thinks you’re cute when you’re flustered. 

beel 

he was more confused than anything, honestly. he wasn’t feeling jealous or betrayed like his brothers, nor was he feeling possessive at all. he was just confused, for a few reasons. 

first was the fact that everyone in the group chat was yelling at him. all he did was send an emoji of a fork and a knife, and everyone was on his ass all of a sudden, like he was the one who sent the video. he was the only person with their priorities straight, and there was lucifer, trying to scold him via text message, which only furthered his confusion. he was an adult, and he was fully allowed to have an appreciation for the finer things in life, up to and including your dancing skills. 

he was careful to relay his message in a private chat, not thinking too much of it. he would’ve given anything to see your reaction, but he wasn’t cruel enough to go to your room minutes after you sent it. he could easily do it tomorrow. 

this, of course, brings him to his second point of confusion. he really doesn’t get why you decided to do this on camera instead of on his face on top of him, but, like, to each their own. he’s content with the fact that he even got to see it, but he feels like he should still let you know the offer is there. 

belphie

first of all, you're already here, but for the sake of malice—go to hell. he was about to go to sleep, you absolute heathen. second of all, because he lost time he could've spent sleeping, you're going to have to take some responsibility and atone—immediately. he had a (correct) feeling that you wouldn’t be willing to come up to the attic, and he wasn’t willing to compensate for that by going to your room. 

this was, while a bit annoying, perfectly fine. it was late, it was a school night, you were undoubtedly going to sleep within the next hour or two. he would know once you did, such is the nature of the avatar of sloth, and then, he would pay you a visit while you were dreaming. nothing to be nervous about, don’t worry, he just had a few questions. 

the first question being, why, exactly, didn’t you just unsend the video when it was so clearly sent on accident? that’s not to say he didn’t enjoy watching it repeatedly, but he was quite curious. whatever—it’s not like everyone is going to know it was an accident, anyway, and he’s glad no one told you about that messaging feature. he uses it on lucifer all the time, but that is neither here nor there. 

the second question being, now, given that it is so clear that he is a bottom, why did you never—

[lisbonsteresa]

You’re Once (In Any Lifetime)

🥳 🥳 HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAY( @eddiediaz)!!!!  🥳 🥳  (little late is better than never fingers crossed. a little something for my drew crew bestie who i have never yelled at, cajoled into watching a show, or threatened with a knife emoji. hope you like the...kind of au of the au of the - let’s just call it the 7th generation of an au 😘)

                                 ___

“She’s lingering again.”

“Call a spade a spade Bess.” George grumbled as she entered the kitchen with an armful of dirty dishes. “At this point she’s loitering.”

Nick glanced up from where he was reviewing that month’s order form at the prep table with a slight grin. “Don’t know if you can go that far. I mean she did pay for her dinner.”

“Oh please,” George shot back with a roll of her eyes. “It’s been 45 minutes since she paid her bill and she’s still nursing that iced tea like it’s a long island.” As if she knew they were talking about her, the redhead in the corner booth looked up from her glass and gave a small, unsure smile across the sparsely-seated dining room in their direction. She did not receive any in response.

“What I don’t understand is why she keeps coming here, of all places. I mean it’s not like our food is good.” An offended grunt came from Bess’s right, and she spun around to see the Claw’s cook pressing a burger to the grill with a wounded expression. 

“Oh no, Charlie,” she backtracked frantically, hands held out in a feeble attempt to placate the older man. “I just meant compared to what they must have at the yacht club.” 

Charlie gave a noncommittal shrug, apparently forgiving the unintended slight before moving down the line where he hopefully missed Bess’s whispered  “Or anywhere else…”

“Guys, come on.” Ace cut in, voice calm and measured even as he scrubbed determinedly at a rusting lobster pot. “It’s not like we don’t have other customers keeping us here. What’s so bad about Nancy lingering a bit?” 

“The fact that she’s not just ‘Nancy’, Ace.” George admonished as she tipped her dishes into the full sink in front of him, raising the water level until it sloshed dangerously close to the edge. “She’s Nancy Hudson. You know how the hill-toppers treat us townies -”

“When they’re not wheeling and dealing in back rooms to screw us over while they’re sitting pretty in their ivory towers.” Nick interrupted, his attention still on the sheet in front of him.  

“Exactly.” George gave her boyfriend an appreciative look as she leaned up against the prep table next to him. “And now what, I’m supposed to be happy that one of them deigned to grace us with her presence?” 

“Yes, and I had to take her hill-topper order.” Bess lamented, pouting near the line window until she noticed Nick looking at her with raised eyebrows. “What?”

“You know you’re a hill-topper, right Bess?”

She turned towards him, her expression scandalized and defensive. “That is completely different, Mr. Multimillionaire.” (Nick held his hands up in amused defeat). “I only just became a Marvin; I wasn’t born and raised a hill-topper, unlike some people.” 

“Besides,” she glanced back across the dining room with an insulted wrinkle of her nose, “the Hudsons and Marvins are long-standing enemies; it was humiliating to have to serve one of them.”

“The Hudsons and Marvins, maybe, but not you and Nancy.” Ace countered, leaning the lobster pot against the back of the drying rack before reaching into the increasingly murky water to start on George’s dishes. “You two barely know each other.”

Bess paused, playing with her necklace and staring into space as if considering this fact for the first time. “Well, I guess that’s true…"

“And she’s been spending her gap year here in town volunteering and helping Hannah Gruen set up a scholarship with the Historical Society.” Ace continued with a glance over his shoulder at Nick.

“I mean, that’s great, but -” Nick stopped, eyes narrowing “wait, how do you know that?”

Ace’s hands paused their motions, just for a fraction of a second, before he resumed rinsing a plate and gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Must’ve seen it in the paper somewhere.” He muttered offhandedly. “And -”

“And nothing.” George cut him off, crossing her arms across her chest with a scowl. “A few good deeds don’t change the fact that this time next year she’ll be 300 miles away with a full ride to some Ivy League school just because of her last name, and the rest of us will still be stuck here cleaning grease traps in an old clam shack.” Ace’s shoulders tensed more and more with every word that left her mouth. “And since when did you start defending Hudsons anyway?”

“I’m not defending the Hudsons, I’m defending Na-” Ace spun around to face the room and froze, realizing that his raised voice had turned three sets of interested eyes in his direction. (Well, four, if you counted Charlie.) “I’m not defending anybody.” he continued after a beat. “I’m just saying you can’t help who your family is, and at least she’s trying to be better than hers. It wouldn’t kill you guys to try and see that.” 

No one said anything - this was the most upset any of them had seen Ace get since the time that nor'easter put a tree branch through Florence’s windshield. “Anyway, dishes are done; I’m gonna take my break.”

He tossed the towel that had been slung over his shoulder down onto the counter and stomped down the steps towards the storeroom. The back door slammed shut a moment later, and the others turned back towards the dining room to see that Nancy had at last abandoned her iced tea and was heading towards the exit with the air of someone in a rush trying very hard to appear relaxed.

“So…” Bess began, her eyes flicking back and forth between Nancy’s booth and the door. “when do we tell him we saw them making out by the loading dock last Thursday?”  

“I say we make him sweat for a bit.” George said with a shrug as she straightened and headed out to clear the table. “Serves him right for thinking he could keep something like this from us.” Bess and Nick shared an amused smile behind her, then got back to their own work.

If any of them noticed that Ace arrived back from his break 20 minutes late with his hair in disarray, they kept it to themselves.

                                   _____

“Great. I’m going to be picking seaweed out of my hair for a week. Thanks a lot Bess.”

Bess paused her efforts to wring out her dress to shoot an incredulous look in George’s direction. “I’m sorry, how is this my fault!?”

“It’s my birthday George!” Came the response in a mocking imitation of the Brit’s accent. “Just close for inventory George! It’ll be fun George!” 

“Well excuse me for trying to enjoy a nice beach day!” Bess shot back. “How was I supposed to know we’d be attacked by that kelkey-whatever??”

“Kelpie.” Nick corrected, stopping the bickering for a moment while all three turned their attention towards the redhead kneeling in the sand and frantically running her hands over a soaking wet and slightly dazed Ace. “That’s what you called it, right?”

The second Nancy realized she was being addressed, her hands dropped from Ace’s body like they had been burned. “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, a kelpie. They’re Scottish horse spirits that drag their victims underwater and devour them. That silver necklace Bess had was its bridle, and -” she paused, looking around to see the others staring blankly at her. 

“Sorry.” Her voice sounded almost sheepish. “I volunteer over at the historical society a lot, and there’s some…interesting stuff in their archives.” Another moment passed. No one’s expression changed.

“…Anyway the bridle can be used to control it, so I think it attacked you to try and get it back. And since you didn’t know what it was, it just seemed easier to grab it and toss it then try and explain why it was making the giant horse spirit angry.” She finished with a weak grin, as if she’d been explaining the weather and not the most terrifying thing most of them had ever seen. 

No one spoke for a while longer, and then Bess’s quiet  “Oh.” broke the silence. “Well…okay. For a second I thought you just really didn’t like my necklace.” 

The tension broken, the others looked at her with varying levels of amusement before she let out a gasp and turned to address Nancy directly. “Wait my cousin Cassidy gave me that last night! You don’t think…”

“I don’t think she knew what it was.” Nancy replied with an almost fond smile. “When the historical society got the request to put the necklace in one its deposit boxes, the record just said it was a Marvin family heirloom; brought over aboard the Governance.”

“And the kelpie followed it all the way here?” Nick asked, eying Nancy sideways as he tried to shake water out of his ear.

She shrugged. “There are some records that say kelpies are bound to follow their bridles, wherever they go. They can’t leave the water though, so it could have gotten into the bay and then…gotten lost, I guess.” Bess was already nodding along as if everything Nancy was saying made perfect sense. “We didn’t realize the necklace was anything out of the ordinary until Cassidy came to request it and Hannah thought she recognized it from her research.”

“Well good thing she did, or this might’ve been Bess’s last birthday.” George smirked. “Never thought I’d say this,” she continued, ignoring her friend’s offended huff and turning towards Nancy, “but I’m glad you were around, Hudson.”

“Thanks.” Nancy sounded like she wasn’t sure whether she should be flattered or insulted by the statement. “I was looking for you guys, actually. When we realized what the necklace was, we called Cassidy and she said she’d given it to you for your birthday, and since you were coming to the beach Hannah and I were worried that getting it too close to the water might -”

“Wait, how did you know we’d be at the beach?” Bess interrupted.

Nancy stilled, her eyes darting over to a still-groggy Ace then back to the others so quickly that they might have missed it had they not been watching her so closely. “I must have overheard it the last time I was at the Claw.” Her voice was measured; almost deliberately calm. “When it’s slow there your voices tend to carry.” 

Bess and Nick gave each other an uneasy sidelong glance at Nancy’s implication, while George’s expression grew into something approaching begrudging respect. “Anyway,” Nancy stood, brushing sand off her pants and looking anywhere but in Ace’s direction, “I should get back to Hannah and let her know everything’s okay. See you around.”

She turned and started heading towards the parking lot, and Ace watched with worried eyes as his friends had a rapid fire non-verbal conversation. Bess nodded towards Nick, who responded with a shrug. They both looked over at Ace with small smiles, then turned to George; Nick with one eyebrow raised in question and Bess with what could only be described as puppy dog eyes. George glanced at Ace before letting out a labored sigh and rolling her eyes as she called down the beach: “Hey Hudson!” 

Nancy turned, hands twisting in the strap of the messenger bag. “You wanna meet us at the Claw after we get cleaned up?” George asked. “We’re closed for inventory - it’d be a good place to talk about all…this.” (Bess cleared her throat pointedly.) “And we have cake for Bess’s birthday.”

The smile that bloomed on Nancy’s face was beaming, even at a distance. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

                                 ______

It had been three weeks since the kelpie incident, and for all intents and purposes, Nancy had settled in as the fifth member of their little group. She and Bess had gotten along almost immediately, despite some awkward encounters when they had run into family while together. 

Nick had warmed to her considerably once she started helping him with his plans for a youth center in town. (It certainly hadn’t hurt that she’d ‘misplaced’ her grandfather’s application for the building on Spring St. until Nick’s bid had already closed). 

And while George and Nancy bickered almost constantly, they (usually) did it with smiles on their faces. If asked, they might not call each other ‘friends’, but they were definitely heading in a good direction. 

The first Friday afternoon of July found them sprawled out across the dining table of Nick’s loft, brainstorming ideas for that year’s ‘Still Summer at the Bayside Claw’ event. (Or rather found most of them. Truth be told, Bess’s focus might have been more on her online shopping.) They’d been working for an hour or so when a noise like the rapid honking of a clown nose suddenly interrupted the conversation.

“Shit,” Ace muttered, grabbing his phone and snoozing the alarm, “I’m going to be late for Shabbat.” He gathered his things in a rush, exchanged a quick “Bye” and kiss with Nancy, then froze. 

His eyes moved rapidly between the others - Nancy’s wide-eyed panic; George’s look of shock and disgust; Nick’s eyebrows shooting up his forehead; Bess’s almost giddy expression - before seeming to make a decision.

“Uh…Nick,” he croaked out before anyone could react any further, making his way over to where his friend was sitting with an air of forced normalcy and kissing him like it was something he did every day. “thank you for having me.”

“See you tomorrow, Bess.” He continued, leaning over and giving her a peck on the cheek, causing a giggle to escape her barely-maintained composure.

He turned towards the other end of the table, eying George the way an antelope might eye a lion. “George -”  

“Don’t even think about it.” She cut him off with a glare.

“Right. ‘Course.” He glanced around the room one last time as he backed towards the door, eyes skipping over Nancy as if he was afraid of what his expression might reveal if he focused at all on her. “Um, have a good night everyone.” And then he was gone, the door slamming behind him as his rapid footsteps echoed down the hallway.

A minute passed in complete silence, then another. 

Nick looked absolutely mystified, his fingers stuck halfway to his lips like he couldn’t quite comprehend what had just happened. George’s grimace was slowly turning into an amused smirk, and Bess looked seconds away from breaking into complete hysterics.

Another minute passed before Nancy, staring at the table with a face almost as red as her hair, broke the silence. “So…how long have you guys known?”

“Since before the kelpie incident.” George answered bluntly, while Nick shook off his daze and turned his attention towards Nancy and Bess took a calming breath and tried to bite back her laughter.

“Oh.” 

Nancy’s eyes darted between the table and the door as if trying to decide if it would be worse to try and explain herself or just cut her losses and run. “Ok, well, we were going to tell you, we just -”

“You can relax Nancy.” Nick cut in, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She flinched at the touch, but finally turned to see an understanding smile on his face. “You wouldn’t be here right now if any of us still had a problem with you.”

Bess nodded rapidly, reaching across the table to cover one of Nancy’s hands with her own. “You make Ace happy, and that’s what really matters to us."

A wobbly smile began to grow on Nancy’s face, before she blinked and turned towards George with apprehension and a bit of challenge in her eyes. 

George’s expression stayed firm until Nick cleared his throat and gave her a pointed look. She sighed and rolled her eyes, but the grin she gave Nancy was genuine.“Plus I guess you’re not horrible.”

That pulled a laugh from Nancy, even as she blinked back touched tears she knew George would make fun of. “Thanks guys. I really appreciate that.”

(To say Ace was confused when she walked into the Claw the next morning and kissed him in the middle of the dining room would be an understatement, but he definitely wasn’t complaining.)

[kindahoping4forever]

Watch Me Bloom: A Few Weeks Ago // Ashton Irwin

Thanks to everyone who read, shared and/or sent a kind word about A Few Months Ago. I’ve never divided up a fic like this before so it’s been both exciting and nerve-wracking, but I’m so pleased to see the response! 

The concept for this section came about early on but I revised and retooled it a lot so again, many thank yous to @cal-puddies​​ for the constant (and I mean constant) encouragement, reassurance and support that I require when writing, I know I was especially needy about this one. 😂 Also shout out to @ashtonangst​​ for the last minute notes and vote of confidence on the final revision.

No thanks to Ashton Irwin for distracting me, stealing my thunder and generally being a Gremlin TWICE IN ONE DAY. He’s the worst and I love him 😌

Warnings: Boyfriend!Ash featuring the slightest hint of angst, unprotected sex within an established relationship, shower sex, mirror sex, playful spanking, wow there’s really not a graceful euphemism for tit fucking is there? Well there’s elements of that as well as oral sex performed on a male and brief cum play. But like. All in a soft, fluffy context lmao

Word Count: 3390

Watch Me Bloom Masterlist

Masterlist // Taglist // Ko-Fi

Let  me  know  what  you  think!

You exhale loudly as you shut your laptop and reach for your phone. You’d arranged to take the morning off, wanting to be with Ashton when news of his album broke online, to watch the chaos unfold, to enjoy seeing him take in all the love and excitement you knew he deserved.

You were grateful to be working from home but it’s often difficult to get away and unfortunately, you woke up to calls about a work emergency, resulting in an unavoidable Zoom meeting that dominated your morning. Ash was understanding but you couldn’t help how disappointed you were.

You scroll through the messages from him, smiling at the liberal use of exclamation points and bizarre choice of emojis used to convey his excitement about the screenshots and links he’d sent you. He’s already getting press and the fans are losing their minds at every new piece of information. You’re thrilled for him but can’t shake how defeated you feel that you weren’t able to be there to experience it all firsthand.

You consider heading downstairs to check in but you note he’s probably getting ready to post his official announcement by now. Not wanting to disturb him, you instead decide to head for the bathroom, thinking a hot shower might improve your mood. You stop to answer one last text, reassuring him that (save for the spelling errors you corrected), the draft of his post is excellent and the fans will be ecstatic to hear him confirm the news.

You step under the rainfall shower head and stand still, letting the hot water run over your body, feeling your shoulders drop and your muscles relax. You close your eyes, enjoying the chance to shut off your brain after a morning of feeling so many varied emotions.

After a few minutes, you begin your routine and you’ve just finished with your body scrub when you hear footsteps shuffling through the doorway; you turn to see Ashton observing you through the glass shower walls. “Well, hi,” he greets you, tone flirty as his gaze flickers up and down your wet, naked body.

You can’t help but feel your mood brighten at his presence. “Hi,” you match his inflection, laughing. “All posted? Officially in business?”

Even through the slight steam you can see the pride on his face. “Officially,” he beams.

“Excellent,” you smile back. You turn away momentarily to return the sprayer to its mount and chuckle when you hear the shower door. Within seconds, Ash is naked behind you, slinking his arms around your waist and fitting his face into the crook of your neck, swaying with you as he presses quick kisses into your neck. .

“Just announced your very own album and yet you’re still gonna act like finding your girlfriend in the shower is the most exciting thing to happen to you today?” You tease, leaning back against him.

He laughs as he sucks your earlobe into his mouth. “Even in the big moments, gotta take the time to appreciate the everyday ones,” he murmurs, biting gently.

You squeeze his hands as they rest on your hips. “Well, speaking of big moments, I still feel bad that I missed out on this morning, Ash,” you softly admit.

"Baby, it couldn’t be helped," he says nonchalantly, sweetly kissing your cheek before spinning you around to face him.

You’re not quite ready to meet his eyes, so you play with the chain around his neck as you choose your words. “I know, but… you’ve really made an effort with some of the stuff we talked about, like coming to bed with me or having dinner together. So I kind of feel like I’m not showing you the same courtesy - and for something so much more monumental,” you point out.

“Sweetheart, your work isn’t any less important than mine,” he frowns, brushing your wet hair off your face. “I know you wanted to be there and that means a lot, I don’t feel slighted at all, I promise.”

Ashton cups your face and kisses you sincerely. When you pull away, you rest your head on his shoulder; he pecks the top of your head and then reaches for the shampoo. You smile to yourself as you feel him begin to apply it to your hair. He gently taps you and you loudly smooch his shoulder before lifting your head and turning your back to him once again. He works the shampoo into a lather, applying just the right amount of pressure with his fingertips to give you a relaxing scalp massage.

There’s a cozy tranquility in the air as he grabs the handheld sprayer and rinses your hair out, cutely shielding your eyes when he comes close to your face, having learned from past showers gone wrong. Next he applies your conditioner and while it sets, you have him lean closer to you so you can wash his hair. It’s the longest and curliest it’s been since you’ve known him and you truly can’t get enough of it.

You can hear the smile in his voice when he breaks the silence to say, “You know, it’s pretty sexy that you’re so good at your job the whole company was ready to fall apart just because you wanted the morning off."

“Yes, that’s exactly what happened. I’m so glad you’re not threatened by my #GirlBoss nature,” you giggle. You scratch your nails over his scalp as you finish lathering his hair and the resulting groan has you absentmindedly biting your lip.

“Never! Plus it means less work for me,” he jokes, yelping as you tug on his hair in response.

You finish up with each other’s hair, chatting and joking easily. When you’re done, you burrow into his chest again and he hugs you tight against him. “You OK, love?” He asks.

“Yeah, just enjoying being close to you on your special day,” you answer softly, smiling as you trace the trail of water droplets running down his chest. “Wanna have something for us to remember it by, this is a nice start. Maybe I’ll order us something good for lunch, set up a fancy backyard picnic.” You lightly kiss along his collarbones as you think out loud.

Ash smiles, running his hands up and down your sides. “Sounds nice… we could also make a few memories in here.” He wiggles his eyebrows as his hands detour to grab your ass and pull you closer to him. “Feel like celebratin’, baby?”

You grin. “Ah, in a year where you’ve already gotten ‘new album sex’ and Jesus, how many rounds of ‘new single sex,’ you’re still playing that card?” You tease, voice wavering because his hands have wandered to your breasts to roll your nipples just the way you like. “Seems pretty greedy to me.”

He responds with a low, smug laugh in your ear, "Can't help it if I'm prolific, sweetheart.”  

“Well, I am happy to see you so frequently inspired," you tease, hand dropping to give his cock a firm squeeze as you proudly bat your eyes at your innuendo.

He smiles, pulling you in; it'd be sweet if there wasn’t such a devilish look in his eye. He gives you a lengthy and lusty kiss, hands roaming over your body, groaning as you work him to hardness. “Feeling pretty inspired to take you like this.”

He’s barely finished his sentence when he turns you around towards the shower door. You give a satisfied hum as you put your hands out to brace yourself and instinctively spread for him. “Aww, that’s my good girl,” he purrs. You shiver as he traces his fingertips all the way down your spine, starting at your neck and working his way down; once he reaches your ass, he uses both hands to cup it, squeezing and massaging.

You sigh and arch your back, jutting your hips out, wanting him to continue; a loud open palm smack lands across one of your ass cheeks and though you expected it, a half-gasp, half-moan escapes your lips.

He leans in to whisper in your ear, cock brushing against you. “Thought I was the greedy one here,” he teases, delivering a strike to your untouched cheek, followed by a pair of rough slaps to each side. Your whines reverberate through the bathroom while his mouth lavishes kisses along your shoulders, hands soothing the reddened skin of your backside.

His hands wander between your legs but you stop him, murmuring, “Don’t need it, want you enough already.”

Ash sweetly kisses behind your ear before pushing inside you at an agonizingly slow pace. When he's made it all the way in, without thinking, you breathe out, “Yes, finally,” which earns you another quick spank. You giggle, catching sight of his amusingly annoyed reflection in the mirror above the counter across from you.

He playfully nips your shoulder and thrusts into you. As he picks up speed, he notices you biting back a moan. He growls, “Uh-uh, let me hear you, baby, wanna know how good my cock feels inside you.”

You rock back against him, hoping it’ll earn you another swat and when it does, you whimper loudly. “Feels so fucking good, Ash,” you enthuse. Keeping your balance against the door with one hand, you straighten up to reach behind you and pull him in; he understands, movements slowing as he kisses you hungrily. You tangle your hand in his hair, giving it a tug and he grunts into your mouth.

One of his hands travels to briskly begin rubbing your clit; the pressure is like a jolt of electricity through your body and your hand drops from his hair back to the shower door to steady yourself. “Careful, love,” he rasps, other hand pawing at your breasts.

Nuzzled into him, you stay in that position for a few moments and he moves against you, occasionally pressing his lips to your face. You catch sight of the mirror again and become fixated on watching him as he carefully works your body: the way his hands work in perfect coordination to please you, how his hair falls in his face as he drives his cock into you, how his eyes screw shut and he fusses his lip between his teeth at the sensations of having your pussy wrapped around him.

It fascinates you to see the two of you like that, so loving but also driven by what seems to be a desperate need.  “Look at that,” you pant, stroking his forearm to get his attention. “Look how well we fit together… I didn't realize it'd look as good as it feels, babe.”

Ashton groans as he studies your reflection. “What a fuckin’ gorgeous sight we are,” he agrees, voice gravelly with lust. “You always look so unbelievable when I watch you take me, baby.”

You moan at how wrecked he sounds, how wrecked you look, the eroticism of your encounter overwhelming you. “I love seeing us like this, Ash… Fuck… Wish I could actually see it, see myself taking your cock,” you babble. “Might have to finally make that tape like we’ve talked about.”

“Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he whispers, fingers digging into your skin. You spread your arms further apart on the door and he smoothly sweeps them behind you, locking them into place with his. Restrained, with nothing to brace you, your front leans completely up against the door and you watch as your tits obscenely bounce off the glass as he speeds up, pounding into you.

You start breathing heavily and he smiles to himself, knowing he’s got you figured out. “Should I be nice and let go so you can touch yourself, baby? Or would that ruin it, since me holding you like this is what’s getting you off?” He taunts, grip on your arms tightening.

“So fuckin’ close… Ash… please… fuck, please,” you murmur, unable to take your eyes off the mirror, feeling yourself slowly tense as you watch him manhandle you, seeing yourself so debauched.

Ashton shifts your arms, pinning them back with just one of his, leaving his other free to roam down the front of your body. “Because you said ‘please’,” he smirks, rubbing fast around your clit. You whimper in relief and your head starts to drop down but he nudges it with his own. “Nah, baby, watch. Want you to see how beautiful you are when you cum for me.”

“Ashhhhh… babyyyyy… fuuuucck…” Your words come out in staccato sighs as you bounce between his body and the glass; his fingers are steady on your clit and his voice lowly encourages you, telling you how amazing you are, how much he wants to feel you cum. He sounds like he needs this as much as you do. You zone out a little as you pulse around him, watching yourself orgasm through the glass, and as always, it’s his soothing whispers of “so pretty, baby” that bring you back to earth.

He gently sets your arms back on the door, pressing soft kisses over your shoulders as you come down. His hips have completely stilled, waiting to see how much more you’re capable of handling. “You good, love?” He sweetly asks, studying your face in the mirror.

"I'm so glad I had to work today," you joke breathlessly. He snorts and bites at your neck.

You feel spent but a thought popped into your head while watching your reflection and you want to explore. “Up for trying something?” You eagerly ask.

“Of course,” he agrees curiously. You push off the door, allowing him to slip out of you and you turn towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I know I gave you shit earlier but it really does make me happy that this is how you like to celebrate,” you start, pecking along his neck and jaw, landing at his lips, which you kiss softly. “And I just want you to know I really am so so proud of you.”

Ash’s arms wrap around your waist and he smiles brightly. “I know, baby. And I’m so grateful to have you with me. Every step of the way, you were there to take care of me.”

You kiss him harder, filthier and needier than you did before and his resulting groan tells you he’s caught off guard. You feel him shiver under your touch as you ghost over his nipples before stopping at his new rib tattoo on your way to his abs and then finally gripping his cock.

“Well, I am absolutely going to take care of you right now,” you wink, dropping to your knees in front of him. He laughs at your questionable joke but quickly sucks in a sharp breath when you begin placing wet kisses along his shaft, whimpering as you taste yourself on him. You trace your tongue along the underside of his cock and circle the head for a bit before you wrap your lips around it and gently apply suction. You hear him huff a few times as you keep your attention focused there instead of taking him further into your mouth and you smile at his impatience.

He catches your look and shoots one right back at you. “Thought you were gonna take care of me, not torture me,” he smiles.

You let him drop from your lips and firmly tug as you look up, grinning. “I have a feeling when you're cumming all over me, you'll think it was worth the wait.”

He’s only able to gasp in response because as soon as the last word of your sentence leaves your mouth, you’re taking him as far down as you can. His hands are instantly in your hair, not quite pushing you down but gently applying pressure as you stay unmoving for a beat, holding him in your mouth, enjoying the heavy feeling of his cock on your tongue. You softly move your head back and forth, easing him further towards the back of your throat before you let yourself gag around him and pull off. You repeat this process a few more times, allowing more and more spit to fall from your mouth each time; knowing he loves when you get messy with it.

“Fuck, baby, always so fuckin’ good on your knees for me, always know just what I need” Ashton rambles, provoked at the sight of you pulling back to stroke him with a long, thick string of spit still connecting your mouth to his cock. You beam at his praise while he runs his hand over your face, somehow both tenderly and aggressively. “Gonna let me cum all over those gorgeous tits?”

You lean into his touch, mouthing at his hand a little. He takes the bait like you knew he would and pushes his thumb into your mouth, watching closely as you close your lips around it, swirling and sucking before scraping your teeth on it as he pulls it out.

"Is that what you want?" You ask, looking up at him with big eyes as you sit up higher on your knees. "I can also do you one better." You bite your lip in concentration as you guide him between your breasts, using your hands to trap his cock against your body and enclose him.

You've never heard anything quite like the sound he makes when you begin rubbing your tits up and down his shaft, a sound so throaty and new it makes you clench. You continue to massage his length against your breasts, your soft skin and the novelty of the act working in tandem to get him off.

You make eye contact as you spit on his cock and you feel it twitch on your chest as he moans. This fantasy has come up before, usually via sexting while he’s on tour but neither one of you had tried to follow through until now and judging by the noises he’s making, it’s living up to the expectation. You know he’s going to go wild when you breathily encourage, "Come on, babe, I think you should fuck 'em."

Ashton doesn't need to be told twice and immediately starts thrusting vigorously. He practically growls when you flick your tongue out to catch his tip on an upstroke, so you keep doing it.

"Jesus, baaaaby…" he groans, sounding positively undone, his pace unrelenting as he ruts against you. "So hot… fuck, so good…"

You grin at his incoherence, knowing he must be close. "Thought a special day deserved a special treat," you boast. "Ready to cum for me, babe?"

Ash acknowledges your words with a grunt, pulling away from your chest and putting his cock in your mouth again. You bob your head with intent to finish him and you know he's desperate when he gets a bit aggressive, pushing you to take him further down than last time. You've had him in your throat for less than a minute before he starts breathing heavy and pulls out just in time to shoot streams of cum all over your chest.

"Yes, baby… fuuuuuck… so fuckin’ good to me," he groans rhythmically in time with each spurt. You place the head of his cock on your tongue and milk out the remaining drops, revelling in his satisfied sounds.

He looks in adoration and disbelief at you, covered in his cum, clearly pleased with your work. He helps you off your knees and moves to kiss you when you press a finger to his lips, holding him off while you drag your other hand through the mess on your tits, delivering the substance to your mouth.

"God, I love you, baby," he sighs exhaustedly, kissing you passionately, groaning into your mouth as he tastes himself on your tongue. “This is so much more memorable than you sitting on the couch reading tweets with me.”

You cackle, pulling away to clean yourself off under the spray. "Well, I love you too," you coo. “Always happy to celebrate my man.”

Ashton grins and cradles you against him. “Good to know… I’ve got some ideas for how we can celebrate the second single coming out next week.”

You giggle and turn, wanting to see his face when you reply, “You plan that and I’ll take care of the celebration for your video premiere tonight?"

He pulls you closer and smirks, “Deal.”

————-

@mymindwide​​​​ @suchalonelysunflower​​​​ @pxrxmoore​​​​ @loveroflrh​​​​ @ghostofmashton​​​​ @sexgodashton​​​​ @feliznavidaddycal​​​​​​  

@castaway-cashton​​​​ @ashtonlftv​​​ @cashtonasfuck​​​​ @megz1985​​​​ @ashdork-irwin​​​​ @angelicfluffs​​​​ @findingliam-o​​​​ @abadaftertaste​​ @youngbloodchild​​​​  @irwinsbetch​​​​ @ashsun​​ @everyscarisahealingplace​​​​

@wiildflower-xxx​​​​ @metalandboybands​​​​ @another-lonely-heart-blog​​​​ @realisticnotes​​​​  @makeamovehemmings​​​​​​ @golden166​​​​ @burstintocolor​​​​

@mfartzzz​​​​ @babyoria​​​​ @saphseoul @petunias-pet​​​​ @youngblood199456​​​​ @notinthesameguey​​​​ @seanna313​​​​​​  @zhangyixingxing1​​​​ @stardust-galaxies​​​​  @zackoid​​​​

@queenalienscherrypie @lovelybonesetc​​​​ @Obey-Kaylin @xsongxbirdx​​​​ @justhereforcalum​​​​ @calumftduke

@laura66sos​​​​ @calumrose​​​​ @karajaynetoday​​​​  @pilunb​​​​ @jazzyangel242​​​​ @babylon-corgis​​​​  @heyheyhaleyd​​​​ @calmsweetcreature​​​​

@spicycal​​​​ @talkfastromance4​​​​  @holystxne​​​​ @myloverboyash​​​

@meetmedowntown​​​​  @fedorable-killjoys​​

@irwindoll​​​​ @cheekysos​​​​​ @carrielfisher​​​​​ @lukedorkyhemmings​​​​​ @creampiecashton​​​​​ @lovelywordsblog​​​​​

@trix-arent-for-kids​​​ @uh-huhh-honey​​​ @tobefalling​​​ @aladyofalbion​​​

@likehuhdude​​​  @curlycalums​​​  @cxddlyash​​​  @reddesert-healourblues​

[ibijau]

Counterfeit AU pt5 / On AO3

Lan Xichen, left alone, discovers something about Nie Huaisang

Sitting on a kitchen chair, Lan Xichen listens as Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian try to explain to him who they are. He half wishes he could tell them that he remembers… not everything, not yet (not ever, a part of him hopes) but certainly enough that introductions aren’t quite needed. Words don’t quite make it to his mouth though, his mind still struggling to accept what’s going on. Lan Xichen, until now, always prided himself in being a rational man.

It’s hard to be rational when faced with your brother from another life, whose husband tells you that they have been looking for you for centuries, because apparently they’re immortals.

It’s odd that Lan Xichen accepts that part so easily. Immortals only exist in stories, he would have said just a few hours ago. Now though… well, there’s something not fully human to Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, a touch of something more.

“It’s only the second time we find you,” Wei Wuxian says, glancing at his husband. Lan Wangji’s expression is nearly unchanged, but Lan Xichen can tell he is deeply distraught. “Well, the second time we find you where you’re still alive,” Wei Wuxian corrects, making his husband wince slightly. “We were always too late, somehow. Every time we reached you, you’d died already. Even the other time we found you alive barely counts. You were very, very old, and you weren’t quite all there anymore. You didn’t really recognise your actual family, so two strangers from another life… and anyway, you died the night we arrived.”

Lan Wangji flinches, which makes Lan Xichen want to scold Wei Wuxian because surely, after so long alive, he should have learned by now to be a little more considerate to the feelings of others, shouldn’t he? But before he can say anything, Wei Wuxian leans toward his husband and takes his hand, intertwining their fingers in a way that makes Lan Wangji relax.

In another life, Lan Xichen had sometimes taken those gestures of affection as an attack, when he had lost so much himself. He'd known, even then, that it was an irrational reaction. At least now he can watch those two and feel nothing except some relief that things worked out so well for them. 

"Are there more like you?" he asks. 

"Immortals? Not that many," Wei Wuxian admits. "I got to meet Baoshan Sanren, but of our generation only the two of us and Nie-xiong became immortals. Well, and Lan Jingyi became a god, but he's busy and we don't see him a lot. Oh, and Song Lan was around too for a long while of course, but about five centuries ago Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing's souls finally recovered from being fractured, so they all three re-entered the cycle of reincarnation. And then there's a few others from before, though not many from after. We're not sure why, but two or three generations after us, it just stopped happening."

Lan Xichen lets out a sigh. It's not that he particularly expected anything, but he feels disappointed anyway. 

"Xiongzhang might still meet others," Lan Wangji says in what seems intended as a comforting tone. He has improved in expressing himself, or else Lan Xichen remembers this too. "From that first life we all shared. Maybe from following ones, if they impacted your soul enough." 

"Oh," Lan Xichen says. His hands clench over his knees. He wonders if there's anyone he might want to meet again, when he died feeling he had failed everyone, that first time. 

“It will all come back to you here and there,” Wei Wuxian explains. “You might also realise you already know other people from before. I’ve been told it’s a weird feeling, but you get used to it.”

Lan Xichen considers this, and tries to guess who this might concern. For some reason, his little brother comes to mind, but that might be only wishful thinking. Same with his father. Maybe he actually hasn't encountered anyone from his past. No one except, of course… 

“I’ve met Meng Yao,” Lan Xichen says.

The other two men grimace.

“Hopefully you’ll also meet people you like,” Wei Wuxian replies with an embarrassed cough.

Lan Xichen, who likes Meng Yao very much indeed, stares at him blankly. What right does this stranger to pass judgement on his… not boyfriend, not exactly. Not yet. Lan Xichen was still working out the courage to have that conversation, to see if Meng Yao might be amenable to real dates, to kissing, to…

It won’t happen now.

It won’t happen because in another life, Lan Xichen murdered Meng Yao.

He didn’t particularly want to, he vaguely recalls. It had been a last resort, and to be frank Meng Yao had brought it upon himself. Still, the fact remains that Lan Xichen killed one of the men he… well, he might have loved him, back then. It’s hard to say for sure. But it is quite certain that Lan Xichen killed him, and even after several lifetimes, he’s not sure Meng Yao will have forgiven him.

He didn’t use to be a very forgiving man.

"Speaking of the devil, better go check what's going on in that basement before it turns bad," Wei Wuxian mutters, glancing in direction of the kitchen door. "Just because he's never killed Nie-xiong yet doesn't mean he can't do it ever. Hey, Lan-da-ge, do you need a ride back home?" 

The nickname feels like a slap. 

Lan Xichen remembers he could never quite decide whether he liked Wei Wuxian or not, in that first life. 

He's still not sure he does. 

"I have a taxi coming," he announces. "But thanks for the offer. I just wish to have some time to digest all of this." 

Wei Wuxian shrugs, apparently unconcerned, and leaves the kitchen. While he's gone, Lan Wangji politely asks if they might exchange phone numbers. He won't force the acquaintance, he explains, but he'd be grateful if this favour were granted. 

Lan Xichen, weak to little brothers of his in this life as in every others, readily agrees. 

Lan Wangji, so dry and formal in speech, texts with emojis everywhere. Lan Xichen is endeared, and wonders if that is Wei Wuxian's influence at play. 

Maybe he does like Wei Wuxian a little, if he can help his brother express himself more easily. 

After a little while, Lan Xichen hears two pairs of feet on the stairs coming from the basement. Wei Wuxian calls only for Lan Wangji to join them in the entrance, but Lan Xichen springs to his feet, knocking down the chair in his haste. He takes one long step, two, three, and reaches the kitchen door. From there he sees Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang at the door, the former making a joke of some sort, the later trying to put on shoes as fast as he can. They both look up when they notice a presence hovering by the kitchen door.

Nie Huaisang goes pale at the sight of Lan Xichen. His face grows tight, his lips twisting into a grimace that might be disgust, or horror, or something else entirely. Whatever it is, it makes Nie Huaisang jump to his feet and run out of the door, nearly tripping on his half tied shoelaces. Wei Wuxian sighs and shakes his head, but says nothing, even as a car door opens and closes with a slam somewhere outside. 

"Nie Huaisang hasn't changed," Lan Wangji says as he joins them

Wei Wuxian and him exchange a look. To Lan Xichen, it looks like a long conversation without words. After so long together, some things might no longer need to be said. 

"Do you want us to stay until your taxi is here?" Wei Wuxian asks, nodding toward the basement stairs. Toward Meng Yao. "You know, in case…" 

Lan Xichen considers saying yes, then feels ashamed of himself for thinking like this. Whatever happened in another life, and even if it ruins any chance of romance in the present, Lan Xichen cannot imagine this current Meng Yao harming him. 

Perhaps Lan Xichen too hasn't changed, in spite of several lifetimes which should have taught him better. 

He shakes his head. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian look unhappy, but don't insist. They tell him, again, to call them, to get in touch, to allow them in his life if he can, and leave. 

As soon as their car leaves, Meng Yao emerges from the basement and heads out as well. He looks like he cried, or like he might cry later. He doesn't spare Lan Xichen a single glance, but he seems in such a state that he might just not have noticed the other man.

That second car speeds into the distance.

Just like that, Lan Xichen is alone. 

Of course that's hardly new. He spent a few decades alone in this cold house, reflecting on his mistakes. A prison of his own making, with no company but guilt and brushes. Music he'd abandoned after how much it had cost him, but calligraphy, but poetry, but painting… 

He painted a lot, and burned it all every now and then. He was never skill enough to produce anything worth keeping, anyway, unlike… 

Lan Xichen's eyes wander toward those downward stairs. He came here for a reason, he remembers, and while he might have ruined many things, perhaps this at least he can still have. 

When he reaches the basement, Lan Xichen finds the door to Nie Huaisang’s workshop open. A fit of forgetfulness which he takes as an invitation. 

Just as Meng Yao promised, this workshop is filled with paintings in Nie Huaisang’s hand. Some appear to be reproductions of pieces Lan Xichen has seen before… unless they are originals. The notes attached to a few appear doubtful, as if the artist himself cannot remember anymore when he first painted each piece. A few are copies of other artists' work, more carefully hidden and annotated. Those, as far as Lan Xichen can tell when it isn't his subject of predilection, are mostly lost artwork. Judging by the notes, they all belonged to masters whom Nie Huaisang once met in person. 

Most interesting to Lan Xichen are Nie Huaisang’s own lost works, reproduced by his own hand and carefully labelled. The titles are familiar, as are the subjects in some cases thanks to old descriptions. But it is the first time Lan Xichen sees those, and with each one he feels he uncovers another secret of this artist he has so extensively studied.

The brushstrokes here are innovative, showing progress from this earlier work. But there the curves and lines of mountains, a little clumsy if considered alone, announce the brilliance of a future series. And then there are portraits of disciples, views of the Unclean Realm, all rumoured to have existed but lost to collectors centuries ago. Those are the only ones whose notes do not mention when the originals were lost or destroyed, so it might be that Nie Huaisang, missing his long gone home, bought back the shadows of his old life.

Painting by painting, Nie-Huaisang-the-artist unveils himself to Lan Xichen. 

Nie-Huaisang-the-man remains a mystery, until Lan Xichen, having observed and photographed everything else, becomes curious about the desk's two drawers. 

In the top one he finds doodles and notes, post-its about orders, lists of works already in collections. There are also candy wrappers, some ancient coins, a novel in a foreign language with a crumbling bookmark. Nie Huaisang hasn't changed, still messy. It makes Lan Xichen want to laugh and cry, thinking of his uncle who once thought he could correct Nie Huaisang’s bad habits. A fight lost from the start, he realises. 

Finding nothing useful in this drawer, Lan Xichen is about to open the other one when, somewhere far above him, a car's horn announces that his taxi is here at last. It would be rude to make the driver wait, Lan Xichen thinks, and the first draw contained nothing important, so it is unlikely the second will be different. 

It would be wise to leave this place, forget about it, return to his quiet and ordinary life. He'll write his book or he won't, and then move on to something less intimage.

It would be wise and Lan Xichen even takes a step toward the door before changing his mind. He cannot let this last shred of curiosity go unsatisfied. He still carries too many regrets from his previous lives, he cannot accumulate new ones already. 

Lan Xichen opens the other drawer, and gasps.

Unlike the rest of the room where everything is organised and cared for, this drawer is filled with piled up sheets of paper that appear to have been unceremoniously thrown there. On top of the pile is the portrait of a melancholic looking man dressed all in white, wearing an embroidered ribbon on his forehead. On the corner of the page, a scribbled note reads ‘more smile’, as well as a recent date.

Without thinking Lan Xichen grabs the painting to get a better look. As he does so, the next sheet of paper on the pile is revealed: another portrait of the same man, nearly identical, though the note is different. Its date is a year earlier, and it reads ‘too stern’. Lan Xichen grabs that painting too, and the next, browsing through them with increasing franzy.

There are well over a hundred portraits of the same man in that drawer, going back centuries. The styles change depending on their age, reflecting the preference of that era. They all have a date, and most have a comment of sorts as well, usually criticising some element of the portrait that must be corrected to achieve true likeness.

A hundred portraits of Lan Xichen.

Because that is him, he knows, even if no name is mentioned. This is who he was in that first life.

Or at least, it is how Nie Huaisang remembered him. The oldest of those paintings is still dated to nearly five centuries after Lan Xichen’s first death, and there’s a roughness to it, a sentiment of urgency, that makes him think it really is the first of that series, that there were no others before that. Even accounting for style, that first painting looks different from the others, it is unpolished and vague, as if Nie Huaisang had almost forgotten what Lan Xichen looked like. The notes on that first painting are scathing, full of reproach about being too stupid to remember what ‘er-ge’ looked like.

How odd, Lan Xichen thinks.

They never really met again, Nie Huaisang and him. Not after the murder of Jin Guangyao. He remembers assuming that Nie Huaisang would have killed him too if he could have. He remembers how that assumption had hurt, and how it had taken him years of isolation to finally realise that what he had felt for Nie Huaisang, just like what he had felt for Jin Guangyao, had gone beyond the acceptable limits of friendship. A realisation come too late, supposing there could ever have been a right time for the three of them. 

What a fool he'd been, loving those two men who must have despised him for his weaknesses. 

What a fool he must still be, having learned nothing from the past. 

[dancethroughthethunder]

The Best Kind of Eternity

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 4.6k (I cannot shut up ever about anything)

Prompt: I’ll take whatever you give me

Summary:  You’ve had a terrible week so your best friends, Peter, Ned and MJ, have planned a night of yummy comfort food, face masks, and cheap wine to unwind. You’re hopelessly in love with your best friend, and unbeknownst to you, he feels the exact same way. Ned, and MJ are having fun watching the sweet disaster that is you and your Peterman. After a few glasses of wine and a long week, you’re ready to admit it. Best friends to lovers, mutual pining, and college!au all in one.

Author’s Note: It’s here!! My first fic in literally years and my first fic on this account! This is a college!au and everyone in this fic is of legal drinking age. There is mention of alcohol and feeling tipsy but nobody is explicitly drunk. I’m just really soft okay, please love my soft Peter.

Y/N = your name, Y/N/N = your nickname and Y/F/S = your favorite show

It had been a long week. No, scratch that, it had been the longest week that any human being in all of history had ever been subjected to. It was one of those weeks where you had every big test and assignment at once, where everything you did at your internship was wrong, where the food in the dining hall made you sick, and where you were both home sick and also so glad you were far from home as your loving mother nagged you about how much sleep you were (not) getting and the amount of vegetables your diet was likely missing.  

Needless to say, you were beyond ready for a relaxing weekend. All week you managed to keep yourself going by remembering that once Friday afternoon rolled around, life would get so much easier. You had a surprisingly free weekend for once, and an easy week coming up and you were ready for the much needed sleep, and time with your friends that your weekend would bring. You just needed to get through the awful eternity that was this week.

Sometime between the 5th and 20th stressed out text from you at work earlier in the week, your best friends decided that what you needed was a night to relax. Even when the four of you were just hanging out, you were usually the one to make the final decisions about where to hang, what to eat, and what to do, but not this time. With MJ bringing the wine, Ned bringing the snacks and Peter bringing your favorite stressed out comfort food for dinner, your friends were ready to listen to you complain just one last time about your boss, your professors, and the idiot in your one class you’d dubbed “Loud Dumb Boy” and then ply you with drinks, face masks, and yummy food. 

You’d never been more grateful for your friends than you were Friday morning when you received a text in your group message (named, to MJ’s chagrin (“What it’s just so lame”, she groaned when you’d suggested it), the Core Four): 

MJ: Alright Y/N/N, we’re having a junk food & wine night tonight. What: the greatest night of your life. When: 7, so you have time to take a nap after class. Where: Your room, Who: You, Me, and the Idiot Twins. Why: Because people suck and you deserve it. 

Ned: How: don’t worry Y/N/N! We’ve got all of the planning covered

MJ: I’m getting the wine, and the boys are getting the food. All you need to do is be in your room, awake and wearing pants at 7 

MJ: Or not wearing pants

MJ: it’s a free country 

MJ: somewhat

Peter: I can’t wait!!!

You let out a cross between a moan and a sigh at the thought of having a fun relaxing night that you didn’t even need to plan. And MJ made sure that you’d have time for a quick nap beforehand? Honestly, how do people make it through college without friends like these three? 

Checking to make sure that you weren’t missing anything up on the board, you pulled your phone back out to type your reply

You: Sounds heavenly.

You: Also, MJ if you want to see my ass all you have to do is ask (wink wink)

MJ: Y/N, did you really just say wink instead of using the emoji

Ned: I think it’s funny

MJ: Stop encouraging her 

You: At least Ned loves me 

MJ: since you can’t see me I just want you to know I’m flipping you off 

You: Fair enough 

Thankfully, not only did texting your friends help pass the time but your professor was feeling generous and let you out a few minutes early. Just one more test to go and you’d be back in your dorm ready for a nap. 

Five hours later and you had successfully taken your exam (thus concluding the week from hell), gone back to your dorm to clean up a little bit, taken care of a few emails, called home to talk to family and finally snuggled into your bed for your much needed and deserved nap. You rolled around in your bed wondering whether it was worth it to shut your eyes for the few extra minutes until your alarm went off, signaling you to get out of bed, put on pants and get ready for your friends to come over. The second your head hit your pillow again, you figured that if you didn’t get out of bed now, you’d still be there when MJ undoubtedly showed up earlier than she had said. 

You jumped down from your bed, and began digging through your drawers to find your comfiest pair of leggings (listen, you’re a firm believer that naps are meant to be a no pants zone- and really, who could judge you for that) and to grab your deodorant to freshen up before your friends get there. As soon as your shirt is back on, there’s a knock on your door accompanied by what you’re pretty sure is the sound of MJ attempting to get your attention and make sure you’re awake.

You cross the room to open the door and find that your assumption was correct; MJ stands there balancing a heavy bag that you’re pretty sure is full of wine in one hand, phone in the other ready to call you if you were still sleeping.

“Finally, I’ve been waiting forever” 

“You knocked like ten seconds ago, Michelle” You rolled your eyes, you loved your best friend but sometimes she could be impatient in a way that just really made you want to scream.

“Ten seconds, forever, who’s to say the difference. After all, time is a-”

“Construct” You finished for her.

“Exactly, you get it” MJ smiled as she bumped you with her hip.

Given that you didn’t have a roommate and had a double room to yourself, your room was the designated hangout spot. Without needing to say anything, MJ went ahead to put the wine in your fridge and started to make herself at home.

 “Y/N, I say this with all of the love in my heart…. Have you looked in a mirror since you woke up?” To her credit, MJ was managing not to burst out laughing as you took a few horrified steps over to your mirror. 

Uh oh, you had fallen asleep with your hair down and now looked like a cross between the Heat Miser and someone from Who-ville and somehow you thought your Christmas-inspired gremlinry was not the look you wanted to be sporting when Pete- uh your friends, yeah all of your friends, were over...

“Shit, MJ, the boys will be here in any second and I look like a gremlin” You ran back over to your dresser to grab some dry shampoo, a spray bottle of water, and a brush to try and contain the mess that was your hair.

 “Ah yes, because Ned cares so much about the state of your hair. Oh, what was that? It’s not Ned you’re worried about? Could it be an arachnid adjacent friend of ours?”

Without even turning around to look at her, you raised one hand to (lovingly) flip off your best friend. In any other friendship, you assumed it would be weird to be in love with your one best friend who had previously dated your other best friend, but MJ had declared an exception in girl code for you. It was no secret that MJ and Peter dated in high school, it was also no secret that it just didn’t work. There were no hard feelings, no big revelations, no massive fights or betrayals of trust, they just worked better as friends than they did as partners. You respected them both for making that decision before it got to a point where it might have been hostile, and while you knew there were no residual feelings you couldn’t help but be a little jealous of MJ sometime. You knew there was a reason it didn’t work out but at least she had the chance to try. Either way, you were pretty sure that there would be no chance for you if you looked like this when Peter knocked on your door. 

“You’re infuriating sometimes, I hope you know that” You finished your sentence with a groan as MJ smirked, reminding you that she definitely knew that.

“Get over here and I’ll braid your hair” MJ got onto one of your desk chairs and patted the spot between her legs, indicating that she wanted you to give her the hairbrush, sit down and let her work her magic since she knew you couldn’t put your hair in a good braid if your life depended on it.

Right as MJ tamed the wildest part of your hair, there was a knock at the door, without either of you getting up, both you and MJ yelled out that it was unlocked and in walked the other half of the Core Four.

“Hey, Y/N!” Ned smiled as he came into the room carrying a bag full of snacks, both sweet and savory that definitely had far more food than you could have ever eaten. (“What, I wanted her to have all of her favorite options” Ned would say later when MJ and Peter teased him about buying the entire store).

“Honey, we’re hoooome” Peter Parker, your best friend and quite possibly the love of your young life, was right behind Ned, winking and carrying boxes of what you hoped were pizza and garlic knots.

“Took you two long enough, I want food.” You jumped up from your spot on the floor to grab plates and napkins so you could start eating.

“She’s cranky but she’s got the right idea.” MJ laughed.

“Hey, I’m not cranky, I'm hungry.” You tried to whine and pout at MJ but couldn’t hold it through your laughter.

A little while later you had all eaten as much pizza and garlic knots as you possibly could and had drunk a couple glasses of wine each already. It was time for part two of the night to commence: face mask time. You walked over to your dresser where you kept your various skin care products to grab a few of the face masks you and MJ had bought last time you went to Target.

“Hey, Pete? Which do you want?” You held up the various face masks in question, to show him his options.

“I’ll take whatever you give me”. You were glad that you were already flushed from the couple of drinks because otherwise there would have been a tell tale blush in your cheeks that would have given you away.

Cmon Y/N get it together, he’s just talking about face masks. It was just one innocent sentence. You’d said far heavier and romantically laced things to him before, but for some reason as soon as he said this, your heart started hammering so loudly in your chest you were sure your neighbors would think there was construction happening nearby. Was it a sign of trust? Did he just not care that much about the variety of face masks you were offering? Or was it something more? Did he really mean whatever? Of course not, you’re reading into it. It had to be the alcohol kicking in, you couldn’t possibly be that head over heels and flustered. Right? Right.

“Y/N/N? You good over there?” You blinked and realized you had completely zoned out staring at Peter, while still awkwardly holding all of the face masks in your hands. Cool, way to be subtle Y/N.

“Wha? Oh! OH! Ha sorry, I must have completely zoned out there.” Must have completely zoned out there?! Could you have picked a lamer thing to say? At least come up with a good excuse next time, damn.

“Oh Y/N, can I have that one?” Ned excitedly popped his head into your line of vision to ask about the lavender de-stress face mask that you know he says makes him feel like the “king of treat yo self”. What you would do without Ned and his perfectly timed distractions, you never wanted to know.

“Oh yes, of course. As if I’d give you anything else”. You winked at Ned, and without missing a beat he brought a hand to his chest and pretended to swoon. 

“I’ll take that one thank you very much.” As MJ grabbed one of the face masks remaining in your hands, you made a decision for Peter and tossed one to him, keeping one for yourself as you went to find a headband to keep those annoying baby hairs out of your way when you had the mask on.

“Hey, Y/N/N?” You turned around to see Peter looking at you with the sweetest puppy dog eyes on the planet.

“....yes P?”

“So you know how sometimes I miss spots with face masks?”

“Yes…”

“And you know how you’re so good at them”

“Who the hell isn’t good at face masks, you just smear stuff on your face it doesn’t take a degree to figure out” MJ snarkily whispered to Ned who was unsuccessfully biting back a laugh.

“I mean in the sense that I know how to put them on my face and avoid my eyebrows and everything, sure I’m a regular aficionado. Why what’s up?”

Peter looked at you hopefully, looked at the face mask you had just tossed him, and then right back at you. A big grin broke out on his face as he held it right back out to you

“Are you asking me to put your face mask on you?”

“Yes please you’re just so good at it and it always gets stuck to me and you always do it anyways and pleeeease” Once again Peter was giving you the eyes that you and MJ had dubbed the “Spidey Pout” with you both joking that it’s the best weapon against bad guys he could ever have.

Okay, so this one was on you. The first time you ever did face masks with the guys, Ned wasn’t too sure how he felt about the texture so you offered to help him put it on, and then helped Peter as well. Ever since, Peter has always made a point to have you help him put on his face mask. (Neither of you will ever admit it, but you both know he knows how to do it and avoid his eyebrows but you both relish in the pure affection and domesticity that comes with putting a face mask on someone else. Who knew smearing gooey mud on someone’s face was a whole love language in and of itself).

“Okay, fine, come here Parker.” You grabbed an extra hair tie and handed it to Peter who excitedly pulled back as much hair as he could into the tiniest, cutest, ponytail ever. You looked over at Ned, who was putting on his own face mask and smiled when you saw that he too had a tiny little ponytail to keep his hair out of the way.

You gestured for Peter to sit in front of you in your other desk chair as you sat at your desk and started opening the mask to put on him. You’d given Peter a peel-off mask, which you knew he liked because he didn’t have to go wash it off making it easier and because of the satisfying feeling that came with peeling it off. When it comes to putting a face mask on someone else, you relish in having an excuse to be so close and to have physical contact, after all you’re incredibly physically affectionate. When it’s Peter, it’s even better. He sometimes closes his eyes, giving you a chance to just admire him. You can watch the stress melt away as you gently spread the mask over his face, and you get to take in the beauty that is Peter Parker. When he doesn’t close his eyes, he just watches you. It should probably make you nervous, feeling watched so closely and so intensely but there’s something loving in his eyes that makes you feel seen. Sometimes you take your eyes off whatever part of his face you’re putting the mask on and the two of you just hold eye contact- not long, just a few seconds, but given all of the feelings you’re both holding back, it feels like an eternity. It’s the good kind of eternity, it’s falling asleep in the shade at the beach listening to the water and losing track of time; it’s rocking a baby to sleep in a dark room knowing that nothing else matters; it’s falling in love in a second and knowing that even if you don’t say it, somehow it’ll be okay. After all, despite the awkward moments and the way that you’re sure it’s unrequited, it’s been an absolute pleasure to fall in love with Peter Parker. 

You move your chair in between Peter’s legs so you have better access to his face, and try not to think about the way that MJ and Ned are undoubtedly making faces to each other about all of this. You misjudge the angle of your chair, just a bit as you go to sit, undoubtedly caused by the moscato coursing through you and you don’t even have time to catch yourself because someone’s already done it for you. You look down to see one of Peter’s hands on your hip, the hip hanging off the chair and, not for the first time in your life, you’re thankful for his spidey-reflexes.

“Woah there, you okay?” You sit into your seat as you nod in response to Peter and you try not to focus too much on how the hand that was on your hip as casually migrated to your thigh. You couldn’t know it but right now Peter is silently thanking whatever in the universe (your wine) that made you slip for giving him an excuse to touch you. It’s not sexual, he just likes physical affection as much as you do and he finds it’s even better when it’s you. Ned once told him that his love language is probably touch. Peter disagrees, he thinks his love language is whatever you’re doing. It’s like that tik tok trend with the sound of the Penguins from Madagascar or whatever that movie is, where in order to translate one penguin motions and only one other penguin understands it to translate. His love is already there, but no matter what it is he wants or thinks, you seem to be the only one who can translate and bring it to life. For example, he never knew how easy it is to memorize someone’s laugh. It helps that yours is just so you. He swears he could pick you out of a crowd, blindfolded, just by your laugh. But, you have no way of knowing any of this as your heart skips a beat when he absentmindedly rubs his thumb on your thigh.

You lean forward, and start to apply the mask to Peter’s face, giggling when he shudders at the initial coldness. Today is a closed eye day, it seems, and you don’t mind because you think that with his hand on your thigh still, you might not be able to handle intense eye contact without imploding.

“Y/N can I use a washcloth?” Ned’s face mask has already been on, and dried by the time you remember that there are in fact, two other people in your room.

“Yeah of course, dude.” You turn your head to indicate where you keep them, but see MJ already grabbing one for herself and tossing one to Ned.

“You know for someone worried about privacy and surveillance, you’re incredibly comfortable going through my things.” You flash MJ a smirk over your shoulder before going back to Peter’s face mask.

“Alright love, you’re done.” You stand up to go clean the residual mask goo off your hands as Peter stands up to check out your work in your mirror.

“Thanks, dear.” You feel a swell of pride every time Peter uses some pet name for you. You’re the type of person that calls everyone some kind of nickname or pet name, and throughout your friendship Peter has started to do it more and more but only ever with you. Well, maybe sarcastically with Ned too.

A little while later and you’ve finished with face masks, vented one last time about your week and have been playing some drinking games when Ned lets out a massive yawn.

“Ah I’m sorry guys, I’m just so tired all of a sudden.” Ned smiles sheepishly and glances toward your clock.

“Look at the time, wow. Thank you for coming over and helping me to unwind. It was a hell of a week and this was exactly what I needed. I know it’s late, you guys can totally stay for a bit or head out and go to sleep, promise I won’t be offended if you want to leave.” You smile sweetly at Ned, knowing that since you had such a bad week, his instinct is to stay until you kick him out, but also knowing that he’s so tired and you do honestly feel so much better.

“Okay, I think I’m gonna head out then. Do you wanna grab breakfast together tomorrow?”

“Make it closer to brunch, we all know I’m sleeping in.” You laugh as Ned stands up to leave. 

“Alright, I think I’m peacing out as well. Things to do, people to see.” MJ gets up and starts to follow Ned to the door.

“MJ, you know we see past your whole ‘cooler than you mystery girl’ thing, we’ve been friends for years.” Peter rolls his eyes, laughing. 

“Yeah but where’s the fun in that. You staying or coming with, Parker?” 

“I’m gonna stay for a bit, I think Y/N and I are going to watch an episode of Y/F/S” 

“Okay, good night!” 

“Night losers.” MJ and Ned walk out of your room, letting the door shut naturally behind them. 

“Okay, if you pour us another glass of wine and get the lights, I’ll queue up the show.” You pass Peter your wine glass and grab your laptop and a blanket, and sit back down on the pillows you put on the floor.

“M’lady.” Peter tips an imaginary fedora as he hands you both glasses, so he can sit down and get comfortable without worrying about spilling his wine. 

Peter settles in next to you and takes his wine while you start the show. After a few minutes, you start slowly leaning until your head finds Peter’s shoulder. He laughs, knowing how extra cuddly you get while drinking and is surprised it took you this long. He hears you mutter something that sounds like the word comfy, and is genuinely surprised when you pick up his arm and toss it over your shoulder. While it’s nothing new for the two of you to sit together normally, and cuddle after a long day or when drinking, this is definitely something new. Not that he’s complaining. 

Peter smiles down at you as he shifts a little in his seat, hand on your upper arm as he adjusts the arm behind you. Whether it’s the alcohol, his little comment from earlier, or the way things felt different when you put on his face mask, you aren’t sure what’s propelling you to be more forward than usual. Maybe you’re just sick of pretending you wouldn’t be his in a second, and the other things are just contributing to lessening your fears of rejection. 

You look up at Peter, and let out a soft “hi”.

“Hey there, you comfy?” You nod, suddenly unsure of how to communicate your feelings without sounding like an idiot, while simultaneously feeling incredibly warm, inside and out. Luckily for you, Peter decides for once in his life to pick up on someone’s signals and decides he’s going to go for it. 

“I, uh, meant it earlier, ya know?” 

You raise an eyebrow, confused, as you sit up straight so his arm is still around you (his hand is still tracing absentminded circles but it’s fallen to your waist now) but you’re able to see him better.

“When.. when I said I’ll take whatever you give me. I meant it. I’ll take it. Happily.”

There’s a moment, a brief moment, where you’re scared. You’re scared that somehow despite what he’s saying, this is all one big misunderstanding or that you’re reading too much into it. But, the moment passes and you look into your best friend’s eyes and see love and a distinct lack of judgment and you realize that there’s no way you’re not thinking the same thing. 

“Yeah? What if it’s my love, that I want to give.” You almost feel silly jumping right to the L word, but you’ve known for a while now that you love him, you capital L Love Peter Parker and suddenly you find yourself wondering how you’ve never brought yourself to tell him before. 

Peter smiles at you, and your dorky awkward best friend finds himself at a loss for words. You’re here, and you love him and he doesn’t know how to tell you that he’s never heard anything better. So, he just smiles and nods and hopes that you can see it in his eyes, that you can see everything he’s thinking but can’t say. He wishes he knew how to tell you it all. He wants to say “I love you, you’re my best girl, my favorite person. I love the way you put your hair up when you’re thinking. I love the way you always listen when someone is talking, and make sure that nobody has to trail off because nobody in a group. I love the way you sing in the car and hum when you’re cleaning and in a good mood. I want to hear your sleepy content sighs when you put your head on my shoulder after a couple of drinks for the rest of my life. Name it and I’m yours. I’ve always been yours.”

But, he doesn’t know how to say any of that. So instead he says “Are you offering it?”

“I don’t think I have to offer it, P, you already have it. It’s yours if you want it. I just.. Just need to hear you say it.” 

Peter sees you’re getting shy and knows he has to reassure you, he knows how important it is to you that he says it outright.

“I love you. I want it, I want you. Let me love you right. Please, Y/N/N, let me do this. You’re my best friend, be my girlfriend?” 

Peter starts to lean into you and you nod, giving him your silent consent not only to the kiss but to everything: his love, his time, giving it a go. 

It was the week from hell, but right now you’re sitting here kissing your best friend- your boyfriend, and he knows you love him and he loves you too. And as you kiss him, with his hands lightly on your waist (he needs to feel you, to know you’re real, to put as much love into your body as he can) and with yours cupping his face, you think that if you got to do this forever, it would really be the absolute best kind of eternity.

[notalwaysthevillian]

Parent Trapped

Warnings: Money worries, kissing

Pairings: Romantic Remile, platonic LAMP

Word Count: ~1.9k

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Masterlist

Chapter 11: A Real Date

“So, you’ve come to us.”

Remy was sitting on the couch, resisting the urge to roll his eyes as Roman paced in front of him. Logan merely sat on the side, a notebook in his hand.

“Roman, I just asked for ideas of where to go.” Remy shook his head. “Maybe I should just ask Em where he wants to go.”

Practically vaulting over the coffee table, Roman snatched Remy’s phone out of his hand. “No! Please, let us help. I’ve been dying here. You never give us any details!”

“Because there aren’t any to give.” Logan said before either of them could speak again. “This will be their first date, remember?”

There was a huff from Roman. “Fine. But I want to hear details after, okay? Emile clearly makes you happy, and that’s what we want for you.”

“I will give you details.” Remy held up a hand as though he was being sworn in. “Now can I please have my phone back?”

“Not until we think of a place.”

“What kinds of things does he like?” Logan asked, pen at the ready.

Remy thought back to all the times he and Emile had spoken. “Well, he really seemed to like Roman’s play. He loves talking about his job and how well his patients are doing, even though he can’t name names. Oh, when we were talking about Finding Nemo - Dory specifically - he mentioned that he hadn’t been to an aquarium in a really long time. Something about Patton being scared of the sharks and Virgil not liking the tunnel.”

“That’s perfect!” The high-pitched shriek from Roman had Remy and Logan covering their ears. “Sorry. But imagine it! He can check out all the fish while you check him out.”

Logan nodded, putting his pen down. “Not how I would’ve put it, but Roman is correct. An aquarium date seems like it would work well. And if everything is favorable, you could buy him a cute stuffed animal from the gift shop. From what I’ve seen from Virgil and Patton, their family seems the type to appreciate those types of gestures.”

“Can I have my phone back to let him know then?”

Plopping Remy’s phone in his hand, Roman picked up his own and began typing furiously. He and Logan left the room, likely talking to Patton and Virgil in their group chat.

Babe: How does an aquarium date sound?

Honey <3: That sounds lovely! I know a restaurant nearby, we can have dinner and then go to the aquarium if you want.

Babe: Sounds perfect. I’ll pick you up at 6?

Honey <3: Sounds good to me!

The second Roman walked in the door after school on Wednesday, he dropped his backpack and went to find Remy. “What are you wearing tonight?”

“Roman, I’m working.”

“You have a date to get ready for!”

Setting down his tablet pen, Remy spun in his chair. “It’s only three. I’m picking him up at six. Can I get an hour of work done before you insult my closet?”

“Fine.”

Whirling around, Remy continued working on his design. It was a tattoo that one of his regulars had requested, and he was hoping to finish the overall design by the weekend. It covered a lot of skin and would rake in some much needed cash for the parlor.

He quickly fell back into the zone, working on the clean lines. It wasn’t until he felt Roman physically tapping his shoulder that he realized it had already been an hour.

“You’re done!” Roman said, pulling the chair back from the desk. “Time’s up!”

“Okay, okay. Let me save.”

Roman waved a hand toward the tablet before tapping his foot on the ground. When Remy had finished saving, he found himself being dragged into his bedroom. Logan was already in his closet, sorting through the clothes.

“I’ve found some suitable pieces for a semi-formal restaurant, as well as one that would require a more formal dress.” He said as he laid out some clothing Remy hadn’t worn in forever. “Do you know which type of place you’re going to?”

“Let me ask.”

Babe: Sweetheart, what should I be wearing to this lovely date?

Honey <3: Wear something semi-formal! Though I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a suit <3

Babe: A birthday suit?

Honey <3: I wouldn’t be opposed *kissy face emoji*

Feeling his face heat slightly, Remy pocketed his phone before Roman could steal it and attempt to read the messages. 

“Em says semi-formal.”

Logan put a few pieces back into the closet, before nodding to Roman. “You’re up.”

Roman dug through the pieces, holding up a shirt here and there. He shook his head on a few pieces, tossing those at Logan. Grumbling, Logan hung them back up and put them back in the closet as Roman continued.

After nearly fifteen minutes, Roman had a full outfit. He pressed it into Remy’s arms, pushing him toward the bathroom. “Go! Put it on!”

In the bathroom, Remy finally got a good look at the outfit. He couldn’t help but smile. Clearly Roman had gotten his sense of style.

He pulled on the gray pants. The black and white striped shirt was next, though he did fumble with the buttons for a second. It was a simple look, but it fit him extremely well. Emile wasn’t going to know what hit him.

Stepping back into the bedroom, Remy did a twirl. “Hmm?”

Logan tilted his head, taking it in. “I believe it would be best to show off your arms. Many people are attracted to tattoos.”

“I’ve definitely seen Emile checking out your arms.” Roman teased, coming over and perfectly rolling up Remy’s sleeves. “Lo?”

“It is as close to perfection as it can get, given that perfection is unattainable.”

With a smile, Remy held his arms out, wrapping them around his boys when they jumped into them. “Thank you for the help.”

“I have one final question.” Roman said, looking up. “What’s for dinner?”

“I don’t think we’ve seen Gerald in a while.”

“YAY!”

After ordering the pizza, Remy headed back into his office to get some work done. He quickly found that he couldn’t concentrate. A certain pair of green eyes continued to float through his mind.

Before he knew it, he realized that he’d completely started a new design. A brain, with the definition lines showing off a question mark in the white space.

“That wasn’t the one you were working on before.” Came a sing-song voice from Remy’s side.

Checking the clock, Remy swore. It was only a few minutes to six.

“I’ll be home late. There’s ice cream in the freezer, do your homework, don’t kill your brother!” He called out as he grabbed his wallet, jacket, and keys before darting out the door.

He pulled up to the Picani’s just as the clock rolled over to six. Calming his breathing as he strode up to the door, he knocked.

Only for the door to open and have Emile knock the breath from his lungs anyway. The pink dress shirt hugged Emile’s small muscles in a delicious way. Not to mention the pants that were showing off his curves.

“You look amazing.” He said, sure that there were stars in his eyes.

Blood rushed to Emile’s cheeks immediately. “Why thank you. You look great as well.”

“Just go already!” Two voices called in unison.

Laughing, Emile shut the front door, following Remy into his car. He slid a hand over the leather seats. “I don’t think I’ve ridden in your car before. It’s nice.”

“A lot nicer than a minivan.” Remy teased, earning a playful glare from Emile. “I kid, I kid. The van is way easier for when we all go somewhere. Now, where is this restaurant?”

“It’s near the aquarium, so we can park in their lot and walk.”

Emile refused to tell Remy anything else about the restaurant. Instead, they chatted about how their kids were doing in school.

“Patton has been doing so much better, thanks to Roman.” Emile was saying as they pulled into the lot. “I’m glad he found someone who thinks like he does.”

Pulling the keys out of the ignition, Remy said, “Same with Logan and Virgil.”

The two got out of the car, Remy immediately offering his arm. Emile took it, feeling another blush creep up his neck. “It’s just over here.”

“Wait, we’re going to Lottie’s Boulangerie?”

Upon hearing the concern in Remy’s voice, Emile stopped. “Did you not want to -”

“No, I - I do want to.” Remy glanced back toward the restaurant, taking in the shining lights that were going to make Emile look positively radiant. “I just...it’s a little on the expensive side and -”

“Rem, I’m paying for dinner.” Emile’s tone of voice told him there would be no argument. “You can pay for the aquarium tickets.”

“But -”

Tugging on Remy to spin him around, Emile slid his arm up to wrap around his neck. When he heard the sharp intake of breath from the other man, he bit back a smile. “I’m paying for dinner.”

“O-okay.”

Emile immediately let go and started walking, trying not to laugh when he heard Remy scrambling to catch up.

Dinner went swimmingly. The two of them loved their dishes, and their waiter was as polite as can be. Emile snagged the check before Remy could see it, leaving behind a generous tip.

Before long, the two of them were entering the aquarium.

“Wow.” Emile breathed as they entered.

Remy felt his heart swell as he watched Emile look around. He’d purposely picked a day of Aquarium After Dark, so that they could be a little more alone. It was an adult only night, ensuring that they wouldn’t be bothered by any screeching toddlers or crying babies.

“What do you think?”

“It’s so much prettier lit up at night.”

Remy paid for their tickets, noting that they weren’t nearly as expensive as their dinner was. But Emile had insisted on paying, and he wasn’t exactly rolling in funds, so he pushed it to the back of his mind.

The two of them strolled through the different areas, taking everything in at their own pace. Emile had squealed when they found the ‘Finding Nemo’ tank, filled with all the fish that could feasibly live together.

“Look, it’s Dory!” He whisper-shouted, despite the two of them being the only ones in the room.

Remy pointed to a clownfish. “And Nemo and Marlin.”

By the time they reached the tunnel, one of the last areas of the aquarium, the two of them were holding hands. Emile let go to get up close to the glass, watching the sea turtle swim by.

Taking a deep breath, Remy walked up behind him, wrapping his arms around Emile and nuzzling his hair. “How was this for a first date?”

Emile gently turned in his arms, a soft smile on his face. “I’d say it’s one of the best ones I’ve been on.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Their noses brushed.

Remy leaned in.

Their lips connected.

Emile’s hand moved to thread through the hair at the nape of Remy’s neck. Remy curled his arm around Emile’s waist, dragging him ever closer.

When they parted, they were both red faced and breathing heavier.

“Definitely the best first date.” Emile whispered before leaning in once more.

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

Writing Commission - Where I Want To Be - Chapter Six

Summary: Yamada Hizashi, better known as the Voice Hero Present Mic, is a busy man. He has classes and students to teach English to, an agency that always seemed to be in the middle of a disaster to help deal with, and a radio station that was one bad show away from being cancelled to run. He doesn’t have time for a bad day triggered by nightmares and fears and anxieties that just never seem to stop.

Luckily for him, his partners are Aizawa Shouta and Yagi Toshinori and neither of those two are very good at leaving Hizashi to suffer alone.

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia    

Relationship: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic/Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic/Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yagi Toshinori | All Might

Characters: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori | All Might

Rating: Teen Audiences

Word Count: 29,323

Transaction Amount: $200 (USD)

WARNINGS FOR: Past childhood abuse (both emotional and physical) and anxiety attacks verging on panic to PTSD episodes. Please read with caution if needed.

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                                         Chapter Index

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Staring down at his phone, Toshinori resisted the urge to bite the inside of his cheek -- again -- and instead typed out a quick message, ‘Are you CERTAIN this is the right agency?’ The response came near at once, a frowning little emoji that Toshinori could feel Shouta’s exasperation through. ‘I just want to be certain!’

‘It’s the right one. Go inside. Stop being weird.’ Damn Shouta and damn Toshinori himself for feeling nervous about stepping into a pro-hero agency. He was All Might, after all! His home might as well have been hero agencies in general! Except… he wasn’t All Might quite like that anymore. Now he was simply Yagi Toshinori, a nervous wreck bringing one of his partners something to eat since he had practically skipped lunch. 

Trying to text Shouta one more time, and getting no answer, Toshinori sighed and walked into the agency. He clutched tight at the bag that held the snacks and water he had carried with him, nervous as he edged his way inside before immediately being overtaken with, well, everything. 

The lobby of Hizashi’s agency was in complete and utter chaos, Toshinori not sure where he should look or who he should ask for directions as people ran in all directions. There was a mix of general staff, lawyers, managers, interns, sidekicks, and even the odd second-year or two trailing after an adult. 

Bright, searing color dominated the walls, a mix of color so intense that Toshinori had the urge to squint. The place was wild, fully of energy that surged through the air loud and clear with a heartbeat that was just full of life. It was an agency that suited Hizashi and Present Mic perfectly. It was also probably hell on the man, all things considered. Toshinori knew what an approaching sensory overload looked like, after all.

Distracted by a sea of calm over by the front desk where things seemed quieter and had some form of order to them, Toshinori carefully made his way over as he tried to keep his head down. He could already hear a few whispers, but, well, it wasn’t exactly easy to hide who he was anymore. 

Still, he made it to the front desk, clearing his throat lightly and patiently waiting until the woman running the desk could look up and give him her attention. Toshinori knew from experience that the secretary who ran the front desk of a hero agency was often the one who kept most day-to-day operations running. 

“Yes, how may I…” Ah. There was the recognition. Everyone in Japan knew what ‘All Might’ looked like now, and Toshinori did his best to put on a smile and wait for the possible spiel of oh my god you’re All Might oh my god what are you doing here can I get you autograph- “Good afternoon, sir. How may I help you today?” 

The woman’s tone was utter professionalism, eyes still a bit wide, but expression and tone controlled and even. It was enough of a surprise that Toshinori was rushing to explain and, he could admit, over explain, “Ah, well, you see, I’m actually here to see Present Mic! Or, er, Yamada-san, as it were. You see, we work together at U.A., and he didn’t quite eat much at lunch, so I thought I would bring in some small foods for him to eat. 

“Not that I don��t think he can’t take care of himself, of course! It’s just, well, if I’m being honest with you, while Yamada-san is incredible at caring for and helping others, he tends to neglect his own well-being. It’s doubtful he would remember to eat if we didn’t remind him -- plus, he’s so difficult. He works far too hard and he’s extremely hard on himself, and bringing in lunch is a good way to make sure the idiot hasn’t gone and drowned himself in a sea of paperwork or hung himself with a string of paper clips!”

Toshinori fell silent, wincing as the woman stared at him for a long, long moment before she was taking in a deep, steadying breath, and putting on the perfect smile, “Of course, sir. Let me contact Present Mic for you. It’s regulation that we contact the hero if any visitors arrive asking to meet them by name.” 

Mumbling his thanks, Toshinori decided that he would have to remember to bring a gift basket for the woman the next time he visited because he had no doubt she truly was the only thing keeping it all together. She was also exceptionally nice in pretending she hadn’t heard him mumble and fluster himself as badly as Young Midoriya. 

“Yamada-san?” The woman was already speaking into a phone, glancing up at All Might before she spoke again. “Yes, I was calling because… All Might is here to see you. He says he brought something to eat since you skipped lunch.” There was a beat of silence before there was a burst of crackling laughter that Toshinori heard even from how far away he was, the sound having him smile before he could try to resist. 

The secretary said a few more things before she was nodding, hanging up the phone with a simple, “Yes, Yamada-san.” She then grabbed a visitor’s badge and held it out for him. “Please wear this around your neck and keep it in sight at all times for security purposes. Yamada-san’s office is reached easily by taking the northwest elevator up to level six. His door is the fourth one on the right. May I help you with anything else today, sir?” 

Toshinori laughed, putting the badge around his neck before shaking his head, “Thank you, but no. Do let me know if you ever leave this agency and need another job, however.” 

“Thank you, sir, but part of the reason I’m here is out of fondness to not see my idiots burn the entire agency to the ground. If it weren’t for that reason, then no one, not even you, could afford me.” With that the woman gave a polite smile and returned to work, Toshinori pulling out his phone as he headed towards the correct elevator. ‘Would it be considered rude if I were to run Hizashi’s agency out of business and then steal both him and the wonderful young woman at the front desk?’

The answering text came back immediately, which meant Shouta had been ignoring him earlier. ‘Many have tried. All failed. Stop worrying.’ Toshinori clucked his tongue, shoving his phone away. For someone who supposedly ‘wasn’t in touch with his emotions,’ Shouta was surprisingly observant when it came to the emotions of others.

A smattering of whispers had Toshinori glancing up just enough to see he was definitely being stared at and recognized. Honestly, he should have brought a hat or a jacket to hide behind. Then again, knowing his luck and considering he was carrying a nondescript bag, if he had hidden his face everyone no doubt would have assumed he was a bomber. 

Some days, he despised the fact that the world now knew what he looked like. He could control the stares and the whispers when he was All Might, but… he wasn’t much All Might in that moment, really. Thankfully, he reached the right floor before his thoughts could spiral too deeply, Toshinori politely making his way out of the elevator before slumping in relief as no one got out with him. 

He was then treated to the sight of, standing in front of the fourth door on the right, an irritated Yamada Hizashi ‘yelling’ at two sidekicks that were looking more and more like scolded students by the second. Toshinori only laughed when he got close enough to hear what was going on, Hizashi throwing his hands up in the air as he hissed, “-do not get to make that call yourself and walk off! When you’re hurt you are to report to the nearest medical personal for help. You’re lucky it seems to be nothing more than a severely twisted ankle!” 

The injured one, who was using the other sidekick for support, sucked in a breath as if ready to fight back, “Present Mic, sir, the pain was barely present when I left the scene and I assumed I could just… walk it off.” The girl looked like she regretted the words as soon as they were out.

“Walk it off, huh?” Hizashi crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, looking rather judgmental considering his own medical escapades. “And how, exactly, Shifter, is that working out for you?”

“To be honest, sir, it was going a lot better before you noticed I was limping,” Shifter replied, Hizashi’s lips twitching into a barely there smile before he was rolling his eyes. “Does this mean I’m benched?” 

The heartbroken tone showed the sidekick was still rather young, and Toshinori got to watch as Hizashi caved at once, “It means that you should get yourself to medical and get checked out. The sooner it’s healed, the sooner you get to do more work. Oracle, make sure she gets there.”

“Yes sir,” the other sidekick, Oracle, saluted before he was helping Shifter towards the elevator. Toshinori calmly walked past them, keeping to the shadows before he was at Hizashi’s side. There was a moment of silence, Toshinori finally laughing and shaking his head, “You're quite the hypocrite, aren’t you?” He had heard too many tales from Shouta and Hizashi both about the two of them skipping out on medical checks.

Hizashi’s response was to collapse backwards into his arms, Toshinori catching him with a startled laugh. There was then a dramatic, grief-filled groan that held too much pain to be fully passed off as dramatics. 

Remembering what Shouta had mentioned about Hizashi appreciating the quiet, but not silence, Toshinori distracted Hizashi with a kiss to his cheek before shuffling him back into the office. It wasn’t a surprise to see the lights were off with only a dim lamp lighting the room, papers strewn all over in some form of chaotic order known only to Hizashi himself. 

Kicking the door shut as quietly and carefully as he could, Toshinori leaned back against the sturdy wood and kept his arms low around Hizashi’s waist as the man turned around to curl in against him with a softer, more sincere sigh. Hizashi had always been eager to give and receive physical touch from others, but Toshinori wondered, after seeing him today, if it was more than just a personality trait. 

Shouta hadn’t told him the full story, but between what he had shared and Hizashi’s actions throughout the day it wasn’t hard to guess that the man had been muzzled when he was a child. It was something Toshinori had seen even when doing his patrols with his new time limit. People feared powerful quirks that could be used against them, and it was a small part of why All Might kept his smile. It was no doubt that same line of thinking that made Present Mic seem fun and upbeat and like he didn’t take anything seriously. 

Still, just because Toshinori had a good idea as to what pain Hizashi had been through, it didn’t mean he understood it. Physical pain, yes, that was something Toshinori understood far too well. He, of all people, knew what it was when one’s body betrayed them. Mental pain, however? Remnants of abuse that was as dangerous emotionally as it was physically? Yagi Toshinori nor All Might had ever dealt with that firsthand.

Soft touches seemed to help, Toshinori mused, one arm slung around Hizashi’s waist and the other rubbing circles against the man’s back. The stress and tension leaked out of him, but Toshinori was careful to avoid his head and neck. It didn’t take a genius to know that the last thing Hizashi needed on a bad day were touches to his neck and face. 

After a few minutes, Toshinori moved himself, Hizashi, and his protesting knees over to the small couch that was kept in the office. Toshinori made sure to tug Hizashi down with him before the man could get back to work, distracting him by handing him the bag of snacks and water he had brought. He then looped his arms around Hizashi’s waist and pulled until his back was snugly pressed up against Toshinori’s chest. 

The half-whispered grumble of complaint was enough to know Hizashi truly didn’t mind, instead putting up an argument just for argument’s sake. Toshinori hid a laugh, listening to their quiet breathing and the crinkling of plastic as Hizashi picked through the bag halfheartedly. Toshinori broke the silence, but he made sure not to break the quiet as he patted at Hizashi’s chest, getting his attention. 

As soon as he had it, he was signing out a simple, ‘How has your day been so far, sweetheart?’ Even if Hizashi was reading his signs backwards, he had a feeling the man knew sign language from front to back to upside down. He was proven right when Hizashi gave a little wiggle of his body, a sure sign of his pleasure, before signing back. 

‘Absolutely awful. I was about to jump out the window to escape before you arrived.’ The signs were careful and fluid, Hizashi no doubt knowing full well that Toshinori was still shaky with sign language sometimes even on a good day. ‘Quick question, though. Why are we using American Sign Language?’ 

Ah. Right. Toshinori cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed when he admitted, ‘I know the American Sign Language better than I do the Japanese Sign Language due to all the time I spent in America in my earlier years.’ 

‘Of course you do,’ Hizashi shot back, his smile as warm and soft as his tone no doubt would have been if he had spoken. ‘You should have told me sooner. I don’t have many people to practice with when it comes to ASL!’ 

‘A grievous error on my part. I assure you that such a mistake will never happen again.’ Toshinori watched Hizashi’s face scrunch up, eyes narrowing as he stared at Toshinori’s hands before signing again. 

‘Are you trying to use words you know I won’t have used as often?’ Weighing his options for a moment, Toshinori signed a simple yes. The huff of laughter was a reward all its own, Hizashi shaking his head as he finally pulled out a snack and began eating, chattering away in sign one-handed as he did so. 

Toshinori followed along, more paying attention to the fact that Hizashi was finally eating. It probably helped that the man’s support equipment was resting on his desk instead of tight around his neck like it usually was. If nothing else, it at least made it easier for him to eat something -- which Toshinori would not be bringing attention to. If he did then no doubt Hizashi would stop just to spite him.

Still, Toshinori made sure to keep the man relatively distracted as he worked his way through half the snacks and an entire bottle of water. It was enough that Toshinori was happy enough to not push when Hizashi set the bag down on the floor and settled more against him, throwing his legs up to rest on the other half of the couch. 

‘Hey, Toshi.’ Hizashi signed, along with tapping at one of Toshinori’s hands to fully get his attention. His own hands then fell still, Hizashi looking almost nervous before he tipped his head back to meet Toshinori’s gaze with his own. ‘How do you deal with your own bad days?’ 

Oh. Well, now. There was a question. Toshinori shifted Hizashi so he was looking back at his hands, signing out a quick, ‘Let me gather my thoughts for a moment.’ Hizashi nodded, looking content to wait as long as it took as Toshinori got himself together. He really was too lucky when it came to being able to share his life with Hizashi and Shouta. Still, he had been asked a question, and Toshinori would do his best to answer it. 

‘The best way I can begin to explain my bad days is that there was a Before and then there was an After.’ Before had been tolerable. His before had been nightmares and worries and fears, but he had managed to handle them. His after, on the other hand… ‘In the Before my bad days were about people I couldn’t save. Villains that had escaped and caused untold damage before I could stop them. Times I had failed as a hero…’

It had been the fears that all heroes shared, whether young or old. They all had nightmares of their failures, and it killed Toshinori to see so many young students and children getting ready to shoulder on that same burden. 

Forcing out a sigh, Toshinori looked down at Hizashi, who was watching Toshinori’s hands with rapt attention. Toshinori let himself give a bit of a smile before he continued, ‘In those Before days when I had a day I knew was going to be bad, it was as if the weight of the world was on my shoulders and I couldn’t dare bend under it -- not even for a moment.’ He had been All Might, after all. He had been the Number One Hero. 

Toshinori had heard the old story of Atlas who had been punished by being forced to hold up the sky. He knew that the story had changed over time and it was Atlas who held the world now, his burden increasing a thousand-fold. Toshinori had understood that story far too well; beginning with one heavy burden and then being given an impossible one. 

‘Then there came the After. After was… more difficult.’ After came following that fight, where he had almost managed to lose everything; his life, his quirk, his promise to Nana. ‘After… My bad days in the Before was what one would typically expect. Jumpy, irritable, anxious, trying to pretend everything was okay when it wasn’t. My bad days for the After I just try to survive.’ 

His After involved crawling through the day and struggling to so much as suck in a single breath, heart hammering and lungs screaming for air that would never come. It was trying to keep the world on his shoulders with his bones breaking with every single misstep he dared to take. His bad days in the After, he had realized, involved far, far too many missteps. 

‘My bad days are paranoia,’ Toshinori signed, grateful he had an excuse to not look at Hizashi’s face -- grateful he didn’t have to say any of what he was telling him out loud. ‘My bad days are me waking up and thinking that I didn’t win that fight. That HE is still out there, waiting and watching for my next mistake.’ He knew All For One was locked away and that it was finally over, but it never felt like it. 

‘It’s seeing Young Midoriya dead and suffering for all of my mistakes.’ Because he had been impatient and foolish and hadn’t stopped to realize that Midoriya Izuku, for all his skills and talents and heart, was still a child. ‘It’s seeing the ones I love dead and gone because I wasn’t strong enough to save them or even so much as try to help them.’ 

He had always seen his loved ones dead in his nightmares. It was impossible to be a hero and not see something like that, but it felt like it was only getting worse and worse as time went by. The more he made a home with where he was in life, the more terrified he was that one last misstep was all it would take to lose it. 

Raising his hands to start signing again, Toshinori instead jumped when his hands were grabbed, Hizashi lacing them together with his own before tilting his head back to look up at him. His voice was little more than a quiet whisper when he spoke, “It’s okay, Toshi.” 

Toshinori didn’t even try to fight the grip, instead letting his head drop forward to rest on Hizashi’s shoulder. He didn’t stop the weak, bitter laugh from escaping him, either. “Aren’t I supposed to be the one reassuring you?” 

“Not your fault. I just have a lot of practice in dealing with self-sacrificing idiots.” Hizashi shifted and twisted until he could place a soft kiss against Toshinori’s cheek. It was a little sad how stupidly fuzzy and happy that made Toshinori feel. “Thank you for telling me.” 

“For you, sweetheart, anything,” Toshinori swore, pulling Hizashi more against him and turning his head to gaze at the man quietly. Hizashi still looked worn and ragged and so, so tired, but there was a smile on his face. It was small, and subdued, and still so tired, but it was a smile. 

“You know,” Hizashi whispered softly, leaning in so his words were pressed against Toshinori’s cheek. “Maybe we could start helping each other through our bad days. What do you think?”

Toshinori sighed softly as love-stricken feelings washed through him, relaxing him further as he bundled Hizashi even closer and tilted the man’s head so he could give him a soft, lingering kiss. “Sweetheart, I think that sounds like a wonderful idea.” 

They were pro-heroes -- all three of them. They knew the risks and the dangers of what their lives and worlds entailed, but, Toshinori mused, it was nice to be reminded they were just people, too. 

Besides, curled around one of his hurting partners and being able to help soothe him, even just a little? He had never felt more like a hero than in that moment.

[olicitysecretsanta]

Worth Fighting For

This fluffy semi-canon fic is for you Liz @trippin-over-my-fandoms by @tangled23works!

It’s been a pleasure to write this story even though I’m sure it’s not exactly what you had in mind. I promise, however, there is a method to my madness. Hope you’ll enjoy it! Merry Christmas!

Summary : Oliver has a devious plan in order to charm his wife after a stupid fight. Meanwhile, Felicity may have been blind to the obvious.

Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

Word count : 2217

***

The fight had started innocently enough. Oliver had made a rather self-deprecating comment which Felicity now couldn’t even remember and she had exploded like a bomb. A year’s worth of repressed emotions and negative thoughts had violently burst out of her like a swollen river. She had blamed him for things that he had honestly thought they had put behind them with all the drama that happened last year. She had accused him of having one foot out the door, always thinking of ways to leave her like her father. That comparison had hurt him more than anything else. In other words, she had had a major freakout. In her loud voice. 

To top it all off, she had banished her poor husband out of the room. Oliver for his part had accepted her decision, looking stoic as always. His eyes, however, his beautiful, blue eyes that never failed to pull her in had given away his inner turmoil. In a calm and collected manner, he had obeyed her wishes and slept on the couch. 

The morning after, Felicity had woken up on the verge of tears. The huge Christmas tree in the empty living room seemed to mock her. William was still in Cambridge and she missed him terribly.

Feeling desolate and alone, she had made a cup of coffee and had been considering the best way to apologize to Oliver when her phone beeped. Sighing, she unlocked the screen thinking that it would probably be her husband checking on her when she noticed that he had sent her not a message but an email with an attached photo. Intrigued, she downloaded the attachment while shaking her head at the fact that Oliver was incapable of using imessage or messenger or any other app more advanced that good ol’ regular gmail. 

At first she couldn’t make sense of what she was seeing. Did Oliver send her spam?

The moment she turned the device sideways, however, she figured it out. The sneaky vigilante knew that she had a thing for his arms so he had sent her a picture of him flexing his biceps. She couldn’t see his face but she figured out that he was training at the Foundry 2.0, shirtless. It took a few minutes of daydreaming about her husband’s arms around her, caging her in, protecting her before she realized what the photo meant. Oliver was fighting for her, for them, in his own weird way.

Felicity sighed again - a much more satisfied sigh this time - and poured her awful coffee down the sink. The thing had tasted like dirt. Well, she had actually never eaten dirt on purpose but the coffee was dry and stale, hence the dirt analogy. She looked into the empty mug, worriedly. It was as if someone had drowned a cigarette in there. The thought upset her stomach so much that she made sure to stay out of the kitchen and as far away from coffee as possible for the rest of the morning.

At 2 pm, her phone beeped again. Felicity almost tripped in her haste to reach it. Feeling restless and on edge, she opened the attachment and moaned out loud. Her devious husband was shirtless and glistening with sweat on this one. Granted, all she could see was his glorious, scarred back and muscular shoulders but it was enough to make her flush all over. She bit her lip and felt the need to literally fan herself. If he was trying to woo her he was doing a damn good job of it. She ended up woolgathering for a ridiculous amount of time considering that she usually had the actual man in front of her and could stare to her heart’s content, before an unwelcome thought hit her. She furiously typed one simple question.

Who took this picture Oliver? 

His reply came a few seconds later, though it felt like an eternity to her.

Dig. I promised that we would never EVER mention it to anyone. 

Felicity giggled like a freaking schoolgirl at the thought of big, mean Spartan taking candid photos of the fearsome Green Arrow to help him win his wife over.

I also had to give him my precious Starling Rockets vs New York Yankees tickets. 

Aww, you must really love me.

She added several heart emojis to the last message just to tease him. Oliver didn’t reply but she could picture him grumbling to Dig, complaining about her inability to share his love for the Rockets and baseball in general. Happy to miss the diatribe that would surely follow - her husband was surprisingly eloquent when it came to sports - Felicity focused on writing the algorithm for her new and improved security system. It had been a month since the last update and she had work to do.

She had created the system last year after the Lizard’s attack (she refused to call him the Dragon, it was a matter of principle) and she was proud of it. Apart from providing protection for her family, the system had made her famous among tech companies. Several of the biggest names in the tech world had hired her and decided to trust her technology in the months that followed. Including a certain Mr. Dennis, current CEO of PalmerTech, but Felicity had graciously declined that offer. 

She was deeply engrossed in coding the next time the phone beeped. Felicity took a deep breath and refused to hurry, stretching instead to relieve the pressure from her sore back. Let Oliver worry for a few minutes. He wanted to break her resistance but she would not give in that easily. He had to work harder to change her mind. Although to be honest if he was naked in this one, she would definitely fold like a cheap deck of cards. But there was no way that her husband would risk sending a naked pic online. Not with all the Green Arrow media frenzy that followed his every move. Surely she had taught him better than that. Right? Right? 

Okay, now she was officially freaking out.

Felicity grabbed the phone and considered it for a moment. This thing was a bigger threat to her sanity than evil doppelgangers from Earth X. It was more potent than any guilty pleasure she could ever dream of. More potent than molten lava chocolate cake, more compelling than Oliver’s authentic Italian tiramisu, more powerful than creamy raspberry cheesecake… Trying to focus, she stared at the damn device as if it was the enemy.

Felicity huffed in annoyance. She was being utterly ridiculous and it was all her husband’s fault. She proceeded to download the photo and reminded herself that she was made of stronger stuff. She would not cave no matter what. 

“Oh my God!”

The good news was that Oliver was not naked. The bad news was that it was worse. Way worse. He was actually standing in front of the mirror, wearing his tuxedo (including the jacket and an unraveled bow tie) but he had left the shirt unbuttoned all the way down. The suspenders were hanging down making the whole outfit more sexy if that was possible. Adding insult to injury, he had taken a selfie. Not of his face. That would have been too kind. Of his gorgeous abs. 

Felicity enlarged the photo, staring at it, slack-jawed. The sight of his out of this world eight-pack abs caused her toes to curl like they described in romance novels.

“That’s it. I’m gonna kill him this time.”

She heard the front door open before she could finish plotting her nefarious revenge schemes. She couldn’t hear a sound but she knew who it was. There was only one person in Star City who could be so stealthy, moving silently like a ninja.

Felicity turned towards him steeling her spine. As soon as she came face to face with the source of her frustration though she felt her resolution crumble. He looked good enough to eat. Pun intended.

“You’re still wearing your tux!” she accused in a high-pitched voice.

“I know.”

He took one tiny step forward.

“I’m still mad at you.”

“I know.”

Another step.

“Even if I’m not sure why.”

“I know.”

Another step.

“Oliver, I have no idea what’s going on with me. First, I get so mad that I want to throw stuff at you. Then, I get so horny I want to jump you as soon as you get home. And now, I feel…”

“What? Tell me, Felicity.”

He had almost reached her when he paused, waiting for her answer.

“I feel like crying. Which is unfair because I don’t know why I feel that way. And my coffee tastes like dirt and my back hurts and I’m miserable all the time,” she whined.

Felicity narrowed her eyes when she noticed her husband’s sly smile. “Why are you laughing?”

“I’m smiling,” he corrected, “because I know what’s wrong with you.”

“You do?” she asked, surprised.

He nodded and another softer smile adorned his stupidly handsome face.

“Care to elaborate?”

“I’m considering it.”

“Why?”

“Because the moment I tell you, you’re gonna freak out. Because I’m worried you’re not ready for this. Felicity, I’m afraid I’m gonna lose you.”

It was her who covered the remaining distance in the end. 

“Oh, Oliver,” she whispered. “You’re not gonna lose me.”

He looked down, avoiding her gaze.

Felicity took his arms and placed them around her waist. She had to stand on her toes and lean her head back to meet his eyes but it was worth it.

“Hey, what’s wrong? I know I’m behaving like a hormone-crazed teenager at the moment but I swear that you’re not gonna lose me. No matter what.”

He shrugged and didn’t comment.

Felicity put her lips against his. Not kissing him, just that silly thing they sometimes did where they whispered their thoughts against each other’s lips.

“I’m glue, baby. Remember?”

His eyes lit up brighter than their Christmas tree at the reminder. 

“Hi,” he whispered, tenderly.

Felicity caressed the back of his neck adoring the way his scruff felt against her face. They had been through so much and they would probably go through a lot more in the future. But it was okay as long as they had each other. 

“Oliver?” she murmured.

He gave her a slow, wicked smile.

“Why are you wearing your tux? Is it because I got mad at you?”

“No.”

“Because it’s Christmas and you thought that I deserve a present?” she asked hopefully.

“You deserve all the presents. But no.”

“Then why? Are we celebrating anything today?”

She played with his hair while he mulled over his reply.

“Felicity,” he said at last, sounding gentle and unsure, “I think that you’re going to give me the best present of my life in a few months.”

Her eyes which had previously closed because of the safety of his warm embrace, flew open.

“No,” she denied.

Oliver stroked her back smoothly.

“Really?” she asked, unnerved.

“Yes.” 

“How can you know?” To say that she was feeling overwhelmed by the idea would be an understatement.

“Trust me. I know.”

The look in his eyes… In that moment, Felicity would have done anything to keep him looking at her like this forever. Like she was the one constant in his life that would never change. Like she was his anchor. Like she had wrapped the world and offered it to him as a gift.

And that was the thought that broke through her panic. Because Oliver was her anchor as well. He had given her the world from the first moment he had walked in her cubicle and trusted her with his life as the Hood. She might have doubted many things during the past year but she had never, not once, doubted his love for her. And she knew unequivocally, deep in her bones that he would always cherish their child.

“I trust you,” she breathed. 

To an outsider it might have seemed like she was replying to his earlier comment but Oliver understood. She was giving him back something she had kept locked since he had first lied to her about his son. She was giving him back a piece of her heart that she had desperately tried to keep safe.

They got lost in each other for a while, both misty-eyed but beaming.

“Do you think we’ll be good parents?” he said out of the blue. “I mean, William is already a teenager but with the life we lead, it might not always be possible for us to be there for this little one.”

“Then our child will grow up knowing that we did everything we could to protect him. He’ll know that his parents loved him even if we’re not there to show him.”

“Her,” he corrected.

Felicity tried to raise an eyebrow and failed.

“Her?”

“She’s a girl,” he announced in what Felicity called ‘his mayoral voice’. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

She shook her head in amusement. Girl or boy she had no doubt that her child would grow up loved.

“Best Christmas ever,” she declared, feeling happiness suffuse every molecule of her being.

And as Felicity rested her head on her husband’s chest, she realized that they were slow dancing without music.

[jilliancares]

The Three A's of College: Alcohol, Assumptions, and Avoidances

Summary: Dan loves a lot of things about college. The only thing he really doesn’t like is his horrible roommate. (And when his best friend accidentally outs him to said horrible roommate, it becomes Dan’s life mission to avoid him).

Word Count: 5.3k

TW: accidental outing, alcohol use

(Also there’s smut at the end)

I had a lot of fun writing this fic!! It’s been a while since I’ve had a good Avoidance Fic where someone (cough Dan cough) just totally assumes everything for the worst and takes things to the upmost level. 

A huge thank you to @crayolaphan for being a wonderful beta!! There’s nothing like not having to worry about any glaring mistakes in your fic :’D

And here’s a link to the amazing playlist @paperchrysanthemums made to accompany the fic!! I’ve been listening to it ever since they sent it to me and I’m all jittery with excitement because of it. It fits the fic perfectly and BAH! You’ll just have to listen to it my dudes!! Looking back now this fic seems incomplete without it :’]

(here’s a seperate link to the playlist on youtube if you’re tryna avoid those spotify ads)

Finally, thank you to our wonderful PBB admins for dealing with me and my monstrous amount of questions (this one’s mainly aimed at my dear @botanistlester)

Without further ado, please enjoy this fic! (And be sure to listen to the playlist as you do and send thanks to everyone!)

~~

Dan loved college. He loved almost everything about it, from the loud students traipsing past his dorms every day to the quiet ones studying in the middle of the night at the library. He loved his professors, loved the old ones that droned, whose classes constantly threatened to put Dan to sleep, and the young, energetic ones that spoke so fast Dan had trouble taking notes. He loved the parties and the students at the parties, the ones who were drunk out of their minds and slurring nonsensically and the quiet, sober ones along the walls, keeping careful watch over their careless friends. He loved the atmosphere, the air, the trees, the everything. Really, there was only one thing he didn’t love.

Phil Lester could probably be found under “asshole” in the dictionary. He seemed perfectly nice to other people, but to Dan he was always on his worst behavior, and so Dan was every bit as rude back. It’d started when they’d first met and had only escalated from there, had gotten to the point where they could hardly see each other without scrounging around in their heads for an insult they’d never used before. And, okay, maybe the start of their feud had been technically more Dan’s fault, but it wasn’t like he’d been trying to pick a fight or anything. He just happened to be curious!

Dan had walked into his dorm that first day and looked around. It’d been obvious that his roommate had already shown up and staked a claim. He’d snagged the bed closest to the door, his sheets spread over it and one of his bags tossed carelessly on top, though Dan didn’t mind—he liked being next to the window anyway. Their room hadn’t been too large, as no dorm room was, but they were lucky enough to have their very own bathroom.

Before Dan had come to school, when he’d first been assigned his roommate, they’d found each other on Facebook and exchanged a few words. Phil had seemed nice enough, had offered to bring in his Xbox when Dan said he’d be bringing his TV, and Dan had been sure they’d make fast friends. Boy, was he wrong.

Dan had taken his time setting up his stuff and making his bed, half-heartedly hoping that his roommate would return from wherever he’d disappeared to soon so that they could have proper introductions. He’d checked out the bathroom (small, cramped, with much too thin walls) and even started putting away his clothes. All of this had been, of course, before a quiet ding had echoed through the room. Immediately alert, Dan had stood and spun to face Phil’s pile of stuff—and yes, there, sitting atop his partially open bag was his cellphone.

Curiosity fueled Dan, and unable to help himself, not even really thinking about what he was doing, he crossed the room and picked up the device. All set? read the text at the top of the lock screen from some person named Martyn (with the sunglasses emoji beside his name). There were two texts below it, the first reading Hey you meet your roommate yet? and the second Stop ignoring me it’s gay. Dan’s eyes had widened and he’d swallowed uncomfortably.

Was that it? Phil was one of those people who might use gay as an insult? Or at least, his friend, this Martyn guy, did. And didn’t that suggest that Phil did too? Or at least didn’t mind it? Stupidly, Dan felt a little dizzy at that revelation. He was going to be living with this Phil guy. With a homophobe! Maybe he wasn’t actively one, sneering and snarling at every gay person he met, but enough of one to be mildly grossed out or at least unsettled to be in the presence of one, much less sharing a room with one.

Already, Dan was glad of his choice to stay in the closet at this college. In high school he’d let a few choice people know about his preferences, and somehow the news had spread, had become known and he’d become that gay kid, the one that stupid boys found enjoyment in picking on, for some reason. Was Phil like one of those boys?

Dan had tried to shake it off. It didn’t matter, anyway. No one at his school was going to find out about his sexuality, not after all he’d been through in high school. This was a new start for him, a new beginning, and he wasn’t going to fuck it up so royally before it even began. He’d just lay low, he’d make peace with his homophobic roommate and try not to appear like he was sickened just to be living with him.

“What are you doing?” someone had said suddenly from behind Dan, and he’d spun, his heart located somewhere up in his throat. He was still holding Phil’s phone. “Is that my phone?”

“Yes,” Dan had said. “Um, you got a text.”

“Okay,” the person, presumably Phil, had said slowly. “I don’t normally let people read my texts.”

“Right. Sorry,” Dan had managed, but already his blood had been boiling under his skin, and he’d felt his eyes lowering into a glare. Dan had left the room after that, trying to walk off his anger, but he just hadn't been able to shake it. When he’d seen Phil later that night, he’d snapped at him, and Phil had snapped back. Really, everything after that had been history.

It’d been months since then, and Dan had become quite comfortable in the schedule of his daily life. He woke up in the mornings, always before Phil, and quickly got ready for the day. If Phil was awake by the time he emerged from the shower, they usually glared at each other, too tired to exchange insults. After that Dan was quick to make his way out of the room. He spent as little time in it as possible, as seeing less of Phil Lester was, generally, better.

By the time he was done with classes, meals, and begging his best friend Casey to let him spend the night (and being rejected, most of the time), he made his way back to his dorm room. Phil was usually already there, and even if Dan had, at some point during the day, decided that he wasn’t going to antagonize Phil that day, it never really worked. Sometimes Dan started it, sometimes Phil did, but either way they ended up arguing and snipping at each other, picking at each other’s weaknesses and insecurities. Going to sleep was always a relief, if only because it was a brief respite from being in Phil’s presence.

“You ready, Dan?” Casey said now, glancing over her shoulder as she dug through her dresser. They hadn’t known each other before this year and had become fast friends, the kind that couldn’t believe they’d only been friends for as long as they had. Despite Dan’s internal promise to keep his sexuality a secret from everyone at this school, he couldn’t manage it with Casey. She seemed the type to be a life-long friend, and he didn’t want to make that kind of commitment with a homophobe. Luckily when he’d told her she’d responded likewise.

“Well, bi, actually,” she’d corrected. “Everyone at this school’s really accepting, you know,” she’d promised. “I’m out to everyone.”

“Oh really?” Dan had said in that faux interested way, as if he wanted to hear more but really whatever she said wasn’t going to change his mind. And it hadn’t.

Now, he said, “Yep,” to her inquiry. He was lounging on her bed, scrolling through twitter on his phone. “You’re the one who hasn’t been ready.”

“I’m just making sure you’re really wearing that.”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“I’m joking!” Casey laughed, tugging her shoe on with one hand as her other scrambled over her dresser for something. It was lipstick, and when she found it she uncapped it and applied it expertly with one hand. “Let’s go!”

There was a big party going on tonight, though not for any particular reason. There never really was a reason, other than the fact that they were at college and had booze. Dan didn’t go all the time, he didn’t party nearly as much as Casey, who could tell from a distance whether they should even even bother to cross the threshold of a house.

Luckily, this party actually did turn out to be good, in her opinion, at least. They’d had to leave campus in order to get to it; most of the good parties were, seeing as they lived on a dry campus, not that that stopped any of them anyway.

Casey tugged Dan through the party, shouting greetings to people and smiling at friends that Dan didn’t know. They made their way to the kitchen where they both managed to get a drink.

“Sure you can handle that?” said someone snidely in Dan’s ear. It surprised him, making him jump. He spun around, his heart pounding, and his stare morphed into a glare when he saw exactly who was talking to him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dan snapped. Casey groaned. She insisted that their feud was idiotic and the result of two boys living in one room together without either having gotten laid in too long.

“I’ve never even had sex,” Dan had protested when she’d first introduced this theory.

“Exactly!” she’d exclaimed. “That’s way too long.”

“It means that you’re a lightweight,” Phil said with a shrug, nodding his head towards Dan’s drink. This was true, but Dan didn’t really get how Phil knew that. After this drink Dan would probably be feeling pretty tipsy, and after another two he’d be stupid the rest of the night.

“Says you,” Dan snapped, and Phil shrugged elegantly. It wasn’t fair that someone who was such an asshole could look so good, but then, nothing about Phil was fair, so maybe it made sense.

“Come on,” Casey insisted, pulling on Dan’s hand and urging him away from Phil, away from a fight.

“He’s such an asshole,” Dan grumbled.

“Yeah, yeah,” Casey said, appeasing him. “Just ignore him, alright?”

“Kind of hard to do when he comes up and talks to me,” Dan pointed out, but he went ignored.

The party was as fun as they always were, meaning it was loud and hot and Dan ended up drinking too much, as usual. To the point where he was considering standing closer to a bathroom, just in case.

“Think we should go soon,” Dan murmured into Casey’s ear some hours later, before leaning down to rest his head on his shoulder.

“You’re right. Dan, you’re so right,” she enthused, and then she was grabbing his hand and leading him out of the party. Dan hated falling asleep at them, as many others were wont to do. He hated waking up on an unfamiliar couch surrounded by unfamiliar people and feeling like he had to apologize everyone in the vicinity for anything stupid he might’ve done the night before.

“Phil’ll prob’ly sleep there,” Dan slurred as they walked back across campus, trying not to look anything but entirely sober to any onlookers. His arm was slung around Casey, because although she was significantly shorter than him and had consumed significantly more alcohol, he was having a much harder time walking in a straight line. “So you wanna sleep over?”

“If you were any other boy I’d say no,” Casey sighed, patting him on the chest. “But yes! And we can get iHop when we wake up.” Dan, who was still not entirely sure about the state of his dietary track, grimaced at the thought of ever consuming food.

“Sounds good,” Dan agreed regardless.

They continued to carefully make their way across campus, surprisingly succeeded in not stumbling all over the place. By the time they made it to his dorm, Dan was feeling pretty proud of himself.

He unlocked the door with his key and flung it open carelessly, stepping inside with Casey at his heels. And then he froze.

“Thought he wouldn’t be here,” he whispered aloud, more out of forgetfulness than how to think silently than anything else. Phil grimaced, his eyes sweeping over Dan and Casey alike.

“Sorry,” he said coldly, sitting atop the covers on his bed with a book in hand. “You two can’t have sex in here. Ever.”

Casey burst out laughing, and Phil regarded her with a raised eyebrow. Dan felt himself tense, a trickle of worry creeping up his spine.

“O-okay,” Casey giggled, pressing her hand to her mouth as noises of amusement continued to spill out of her. Her eyes were alight with mirth.

“Yeah, ha ha,” Dan joined in. “That’d be totally crazy ‘cause we’re just friends.”

“Pffft!” Casey exclaimed, and Dan was breathing quicker now, his pulse probably visible at the base of his throat. “Can’t be sure you’d be able to get it up for me either!” she laughed, reaching over to smack Dan amicably on the shoulder. Dan froze, his cheeks tinting red. Phil look interested. Dan felt entirely too drunk for this.

“You have… trouble... in bed?” Phil said, sounding delighted. Dan wanted to protest, but that would mean explaining why else he might have trouble “getting it up” for Casey.

Unfortunately, Casey went ahead and cleared it up for him.

“No!” she laughed, everything infinitely more amusing in her drunken state. Dan, on the other hand, was starting to feel sober. “He wouldn’t really be entertained by any girls in general.”

This finally cleared up one thing for Dan: he was feeling sick. Nausea swept through his stomach, making him wish he was leant over a toilet already. The look of understanding on Phil’s face only furthered Dan’s surety that he would throw up. He wasn’t even sure he was breathing.

“Come on,” Dan bit out, his face hot, as he grabbed Casey’s arm and dragged her out the door. He spared one last look for Phil, who’s mouth was open and eyes wide, before he slammed the door behind him and began marching down the hall.

Anger coursed through him as much as embarrassment did. He felt ashamed and weak, his biggest secret laid bare in front of Phil, his greatest rival. Phil would probably never let this go. He’d tease Dan about it and call him names and make him feel inadequate in every way. Oh God, he was never going to be able to go back there, to face Phil, ever again!

“I can’t believe you did that,” Dan hissed, stopping in the middle of the hall and turning to glare at Casey. She frowned, her eyes wide and already filling with tears.

“Did what?”

“Casey! You’re the only one who knows that I’m—” he lowered his voice, “gay. And you just told Phil! The one person who’s mean to me every single day!”

Casey’s mouth dropped open, and now tears really did spill from her eyes. “Oh. Oh my God Dan—I just, I don’t know what I was doing! I wasn’t thinking at all, I totally forgot. I’m so sorry!”

“Whatever,” Dan muttered. He walked Casey the rest of the way to her dorm, where she invited him to stay the night, which he refused. Instead, he walked around campus in the middle of the night, around and around and around. He was still walking long past the time he’d sobered up, the sun starting to peak over the horizon, the sky lightening in the distance.

He didn’t have any classes until noon but he could make do until then. He’d maybe do another lap or two of the campus before going to get breakfast. And by then the library would be open, where he could hide and possibly for the rest of the morning until class.

—

Operation: Avoid Phil at All Costs was going great. It’d been exactly six days and four hours since the great Moment of Outing and Dan had seen neither Phil nor Casey during that time, much to his own doing. He’d had a lot of time in the library, after all, and with free access to pencil and papers he’d been able to draw out a schedule for himself.

He’d drawn himself up an entire schedule for operating around this giant bump in the road. Thankfully he knew when Phil had his classes, due to having already lavished in the moments during which Phil hadn’t been present in their room before, so he knew at what times he’d be able to sneak in and out of his dorm. Sleeping in there was out of the question, obviously, so Dan had taken to simply not sleeping. He walked laps at night or sat on benches or under trees with his phone that he had to charge sparsely during the day. The moment the library was open, he stole inside of it and snuck into the dark recesses for naps.

After the third day of wearing the same clothes he’d finally put his knowledge of Phil’s classes into action, using an hour of Phil being out of the dorm to sneak in, shower, and change. He’d already gone ahead and bought himself a toothbrush that he’d been using in a starbucks bathroom.

The more time Dan spent avoiding his dorm, the easier it got. For example, Dan realized that the librarians didn’t exactly do the best job locking up, meaning he could unlock a window during the day and crawl back into the building through it during the night. This was a great discovery for him, meaning he no longer had to walk and loiter for hours and hours and could just curl up on a blush beanbag and sleep through the night.

Still, avoiding Casey had been essential as well. Mainly because he was annoyed with her to the ends of the earth and had no desire to see her face anytime soon. She still texted him a lot though, apologizing and asking him to please come see her, all of which he ignored. Once she’d caught sight of him across a courtyard and had gave chase. Dan had only managed to escape through use of the library, a building that he now knew the layout of so well he could draw it in his sleep.

It wasn’t until the seventh day of Operation: Avoid Phil at All Costs that something finally went wrong. He strolled into his dorm during Phil’s Intro to Psychology class and froze, spotting Phil sitting in his desk chair, staring straight at the door.

Phil was looking at him. Dan was standing completely still, almost as if by not moving Phil wouldn’t be able to see him.

“Dan,” Phil said. Dan turned around and started sprinting.

He only made it three steps out the door, because Phil had leapt out of the chair after him. He wrapped his arms around Dan’s torso and pulled him kicking and screaming back into their dorm, slamming the door shut behind them. Dan felt inclined to wonder why the fuck no one else on their hall had thought to question his screams even a little bit, just enough to crack open their door and see who exactly was about to get murdered.

“Stop… struggling!” Phil grunted, still maintaining hold on Dan.

“Let go of me!” Dan rebutted. He was expecting to get thrown to the ground and kicked at any moment and any form of escape was optimal, really.

“Only if you don’t run away.”

“Fine!”

Phil let go of him and Dan shot out of his arms, leaning against the wall and panting. He glared at Phil. “I thought you had Psych right now.”

“I do,” Phil said simply.

“You’re skipping class?”

“You’re avoiding me.”

“Well yeah!” Dan exclaimed. “We hate each other. I avoid you, sometimes.” I’m gay and you’re homophobic.

“You haven’t slept in your bed in a week!”

Dan swallowed, looking away from Phil. He just wanted to get out of here already. “Look. What do you want?”

“I want you to stop being weird,” Phil muttered.

Dan flinched, his face flaring red. Phil scoffed.

“And I want you to stop thinking I’m homophobic, for some reason! I don’t care that you’re gay! Nobody would care!”

“But I—but you…”

“What?”

Dan turned his head, glaring in the direction of his bed. He did miss it. His back had been hurting the past two days from sleeping on that beanbag. “Whatever.”

“So we’re good?” Phil said tentatively.

“When have we ever been good?” Dan scoffed. Except… he wasn’t really panicking, anymore. And that was good. Maybe Phil really wasn’t homophobic. He thought back to the beginning of the year, to the text he’d seen on Phil’s phone, and wondered if that’d been a fluke. Or if it’d been a douche friend. Or if it’d been a gay guy, really. Dan called things gay all the time, but only because he could. It wasn’t offensive when he did it, seeing as he was gay.

“You’ll stop avoiding me like the plague at least?” Phil said. His arms were crossed, his eyes concentrated on Dan. Instead of answering him, Dan crossed the room and plopped onto his bed, letting out a groan. He was asleep in less than a minute.

—

Phil was staring at him.

He was doing it a lot, actually. Half the time they were in the room together Dan would catch Phil staring at him, out of the corner of his eye if not outright. He wanted to bitch at him to stop staring at him so often but was afraid of what Phil would do. What if he just turned around and starting being a dick to Dan for being gay? Even though he hadn’t even hinted towards doing that once, and seemed to have perfectly good morals in that sense…

They still argued all the time. They insulted each other often and glared and fought over the other taking too long in the shower. But also, if it was at all possible, they were getting along more. They weren’t arguing all the time, anyway. Sometimes when Dan snorted at something he’d seen on the internet, Phil would hum questioningly, and Dan would hand over his laptop to show him the meme. Sometimes Phil, surprisingly, brought him a burrito from Taco Bell for dinner. Sometimes they said good morning when they woke up and sometimes Dan asked Phil if he needed anything washed because he had extra room in his laundry.

And sometimes Dan wanted to rip Phil’s head off because he was fucking staring at him again. Dan had stopped avoiding the dorm so much, and so had Phil, ever since their big confrontation. So often times they were both in there, doing their own things. Dan would be writing an essay as Phil studied and Phil, for some unknown reason, would decide that staring at Dan was a better pastime.

Dan couldn’t figure out what it meant. Was he seeing him differently, now that he knew Dan was gay? Trying to see if he looked gay, perhaps?

So Dan tried to ignore it. He didn’t draw attention to the fact that he knew Phil was doing it, and whenever he was alone he basked in the attention he didn’t have from Phil.

Like now, for example. Very much basking in his aloneness. Under the blankets. With his pants kicked down to the end of the bed.

His eyes fluttered shut as he ran his hand over his cock. He hadn’t really had any time to do this recently, what with his week of avoiding Phil and his subsequent kind of truce with him. Time when he was alone in the room was rare and so he was using it to his advantage.

It was hot under the blankets and so he kicked them to the end of the bed, stretching out and tilting his head back as he worked over himself. His breathing was loud in his ears as he began to play with the head, his thumb and forefinger working against the sensitive tip. The muscles in his stomach and thighs clenched sporadically as he did this, his other hand digging into his own hipbones, pretending it was someone else.

“Um.”

Dan gasped, his eyes flying open in a panic as he saw Phil standing in the doorway. He had his blankets pulled over his waist, and then his head, in two seconds flat. He curled into a ball, his own breathing and heartbeat loud all around him, and had to resist the urge to scream.

“Oh my God,” he said finally. He would never live this down. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry I just—fuck. I thought you were at Psych?”

“I was skipping,” Phil answered, his voice higher pitched than usual.

“I think I’m just gonna kill myself now,” Dan said from under the blanket. He was still hard. He wanted death.

“I mean, it’s not really a big deal,” Phil answered. “We all do it, you know? I mean, hell, you could keep doing it.”

“I—what?” If Dan’s head had been out of the blanket he would’ve seen Phil swallow nervously. Would’ve seen him adjust himself, already hard in his jeans.

“I was just saying, like. It wouldn’t be a big deal, you know?”

“Me masturbating with you in the room wouldn’t be a big deal,” Dan said flatly.

“Yeah.”

Dan thought about it for approximately three seconds. “Nope,” he decided. “No, yeah, it’s weird. That’s weird.”

“Guys, like, masturbate together all the time.”

“Straight guys?”

“Um…”

“Because that sounds pretty gay to me. And I’m gay. I would know.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“So are you going to?”

“Going to what?”

“Keep… masturbating.”

Dan was staring at his blankets incredulously, trying to make his expression transport itself through the solid material so Phil could see it. And then, a stupid, impossible thought formed at the back of his mind. And that thought coupled itself to all the staring Phil had been doing lately. And then that thought became not only a thought, but a thing that Dan was actually saying. “Do you want me to?”

There was a long pause. And then Phil cleared his throat. And then… “Maybe?”

Dan thought about it. His mind did a kind of mental checklist of the fact that Phil was hot, and could be actually very sweet when he wasn’t being an ass, and that he made Dan laugh sometimes. And then his cock throbbed, reminding him that he was horny, which was pretty much a decision maker for him.

“Fine. I will,” he said. He thought he heard Phil breath a shaky sigh of relief. “If you do it too.”

He expected Phil to say something. Maybe ‘what!’ or ‘‘never mind’ or ‘that’s kind of gay’. What he didn’t expect was to hear the sound of jeans unzipping. And then his bed sinking with Phil’s weight.

“Um. Are you gonna stay under there?” Phil asked.

Dan was still kind of trying to comprehend the fact that Phil was about to masturbate with him. And he also kind of wanted it to be happening right now immediately and so he scrambled out of the blankets, kicking them to the bottom of the bed and trying to ignore the fact that his hair was probably now going in every which direction.

Phil was also pantsless, thankfully, and his face was just as red as Dan’s. His hand was already on his cock—also a good sign—and he was staring at Dan openmouthed. Dan stayed where he was now sitting, put his hand back on his cock, and stroked.

Phil imitated him, and then they were both staring at each other, eyes darting from one another’s faces to their cocks, hands moving over them quickly. Dan bucked into his own fist as he watched Phil, and Phil made a low moan in the back of his throat, which made heat rush up Dan’s chest.

Feeling slightly embarrassed but mostly just turned on, Dan pulled off his own shirt, making himself completely naked before Phil, who moaned again, eyes now roving all over Dan’s bare chest. It took him a couple more strokes of his own cock to rid himself of his shirt as well. And then he was blinking up at Dan, asking, “Can I touch you?”

“Y-yeah,” Dan said, eyes wide and head nodding as he spoke. He let go of himself immediately, sitting back as Phil slid onto his knees, crawling closer to Dan. He spared a moment to touch Dan in other places, his cheek, his chest, his thigh… and then he was wrapping his hand around Dan’s cock.

Dan gasped, hand coming up to grip Phil’s shoulder immediately, unable to help the way he’d jerked into Phil’s fist at the first touch. Phil smirked at him, looking more like the Phil he was used to, cocky and arrogant. He twisted his hand over Dan, his eyes eating him up alive, taking in each and every one of his little reactions. Dan’s lips were wet, from licking over them so much, because otherwise they’d go dry as he was panting so loudly.

“Has no one ever touched you before?” Phil guessed, his smile wicked and excited and bright. Dan swallowed.

“I—um, how’d you guess?”

Phil flicked his thumb over Dan’s slit again and he whimpered, his fingers digging tighter into his shoulder.

“Just a hunch.”

“Fuck,” Dan whispered, pressing closer to him. All at once Phil was pressing closer to him, too, pushing him down on the bed and hovering over him, their arousals lined up, just barely, barely almost touching.

“You’re so hot,” Phil breathed.

“I never even knew you were gay,” Dan panted, his brain kind of turned to mush at this point.

“Bi, actually,” Phil corrected. And then he leaned down and kissed Dan, soft and slow and sweet. And then he grinded down against him, making Dan gasp, arching into him, and Phil was kissing him deeper.

Dan could barely do anything underneath him, which Phil seemed to be okay with, anyway. He thrusted against him strongly, easily, pressing Dan into the bed and stroking his sweaty torso occasionally. At one point he reached up and pinched Dan’s nipple, making him shudder underneath him. At another point he sucked on Dan’s collarbones, his tongue darting against apparently sensitive skin, and Dan shivered all over.

“Phil,” he panted, writhing and squirming underneath him. “I’m close.”

“Mm,” Phil murmured, moving to nuzzle against his ear. He breathed hotly against it, his tongue flicking against the shell of it. “Good,” he said lowly. And then Dan was coming, shuddering underneath him as he came, clinging to Phil and moaning, his cock twitching against Phil’s.

Phil kept grinding against him after, Dan’s cock immediately sensitive.

“Fuck,” Dan gasped, squirming beneath him, the feeling, the friction too much—

Phil moaned in his ear, jerking against him, and Dan held him tight, the both of them panting against one another. Phil kissed him when it was over, hummed contently, and rolled over and pulled Dan into his side. They were sticky and gross but it was still nice.

“Mmm,” Phil murmured against the back of his neck. Dan sighed, content. “It’s your turn to do dishes tonight.”

Dan stiffened in his arms. “I did the dishes last time.”

“But I did them two times before that.”

“I wasn’t even using the dishes then! I was avoiding you!”

“Even still,” Phil said, and then he was laughing, his breath spilling across Dan’s neck in a way that might turn him on again if they weren’t careful.

“Fine,” Phil finally said. “We can do them together.”

“I’m not doing them at all!” Dan protested, but Phil rolled them over, pinned him to the mattress, and grinned in his face.

“We’ll do them together,” Phil said, and Dan groaned. “And then fuck over the counter.”

Dan blinked. Once. Twice. He cleared his throat.

“Deal.”

[ma-jinnie-blog]

Jungkook, why do I live with you? Part 2

Genre: Smut, School life, Bisexual relationship, gender bender.

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: It’s a series with a sub Jungkook and lots of kinky stuff. TaeKook relationship. If your not mature, don’t read it.

After I finally managed to pry Jungkook off of me, I had shut my door and locked it without even getting a blanket. Regretting that I was stuck in this empty room, luckily that it was still summer. So the night would be warm. I sighed and sat down on the carpet, clearly needing to be vacuumed. I set my bag next to me and made it into a makeshift pillow. I rested my head on it and tried to clear my mind from Jungkook and his attempts to kiss me because I was a pretty boy.

Which made me mad, because why kiss someone that you don't even love? Why even go there to begin with, if all you want is sex? I shook my head and laid on my side. Recalling the first time I was in a relationship and how it was solely based off of sex. Shaking my head again to rid of the thoughts. I knew in my mind and heart as long as I am completely aware, that I won't do anything relating that ever.

The next morning, I was in a general class of psychology 101. I hardly got any sleep, since the summer night decided to take a turn to the cold weather. Fall was coming much quicker than I expected. I was the first to be inside the classroom, since I had nothing else to do. I sent Vicky a text message. Waking her up annoyingly to remind her that she had school and not sleep till the afternoon. 

When she replied back, I couldn't hold in a chuckle as it was full of emoji that made faces into sentences. I smiled and shut my phone, stuffing it in my bag, not allowing myself to be distracted while in class. I stretched in my chair and my head touched the wall behind me as I sat in the very back.  The professor came in and noticed that no one was in and looked at the clock again. Puzzled why there was only one student and not the expected forty. 

"You are the 8 o'clock class, correct?" He asked in a fairly decent voice.  I nodded and looked at my watch to see that it was only 7:45. I wasn't surprised that college freshman's still thought that college was high school. Getting to class late and acting like a fool when they were actually the one paying for the class. It was no longer a free class and college will either send you to a better place in the future with a good job or be stuck in first gear going nowhere. 

The professor left the class, probably forgetting that he needed something from his office. I reached into my bag and pulled out notebook and a black and blue pen. Suddenly, a person sat right next to me. Finally, someone decided to show up,but why did they have to sit right next to me. There is like a hundred chairs here. 

When I looked over to the person, I felt my jaw come unhinged and nearly dropped open had I not clenched it. Jungkook sat right next to me with a grin plastered on his face. He was cute every time he smiled, but I would much rather prefer that he didn't smile.

"What are you doing here?" I asked bitterly and looked straight ahead, silently wishing that class would be over, just so I could get out and far away from him.

"I'm going to class." He retorted and I could feel his gaze as he looked me up and down. "Why don't you wear girl clothes?" 

"Because it's comfortable and I can stay focused." Not wanting to admit that I was a tomboy every since I first wore clothes. 

"You look like a guy." He inched closer, but I didn't want to show an ounce of fear.

"Is that why you kissed me last night." I looked at him and my eyes immediately fell on his parted lips. It was soft and smooth that it looked so kissable and tempting. I shifted my eyes back to his brown eyes and clenched my jaw again, not allowing myself to smile. 

"I've never kissed a girl before. I was just wondering what it was like." He blinked and when he gaze at me, it was like the hottest thing on the planet with his long lashes that brushed against his cheekbones. 

"I could have guess that right." I turned away to see more people enter the class. It was already getting to 8 o'clock. However the people were older, probably not childish like the young people. They began to strike a conversation with each other and introduced themselves. Leaving us out of the conversation. 

"I've always been curious why girls find me attractive." His words drew my attention and I chuckled.

"You maybe attractive, Jungkook, but don't mistaken me for another brainless girl that goes after your little dick." I spat out, disgusted at the fact, someone would mistaken me for a slut. Did I give off that type of vibe? 

"I don't have a little dick. Look!" Jungkook began unzipping his pants, so eager to show me what length he was. Clearly Jungkook was so shameless, he would do this in class. My eyes glued to his veiny hands as they skillfully unzipped his tight black pants. I didn't realize that he would have such defined muscles that it would show through his tight pants. 

What surprised me, was the fact that I didn't exactly stop him either. The only thought in my head, was that if he pulled his cock out, he would have to masturbate right here and right now. Just so I can watch him get to his climax. I shook my head and turned my attention to my book between my hands. 

The teacher had arrived to start class and my thoughts were running wild with fantasies and all different things. Like what would his moan sound like, I wondered if he was tiny or a large, and most of all my mind went back the first time I saw him and Taehyung. The idea of Taehyung finishing what he was doing appealed to me so much that my stomach felt tingly and my underwear dampened.

I shifted uncomfortably, trying my very best to stay focused. Even when the professor spoke about the lesson and what was going to be on the syllabus, the only thing I would hear was Jungkook's breath as he edged a little closer to my seat and how it bothered me so much. I wanted to spat in his face to tell him to back off, but his eyes were not looking at my face, but at my groin area. 

I wondered why he looked down there, but I realized that I actually unbuttoned my tight pants, as the hem of it was digging into my stomach which was painful. My black underwear, exposed, luckily it was not to damp that it would show, even though it was black. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jungkook's hand slowly reached to touch my panties. I immediately smacked his hand away in an attempt to tell him that we were in class and this was wrong to begin with. Even with many attempts, he pulled my swatting hand, so I wouldn't be able to do anything and that I was leaning over his slight bulge. 

His finger pushed the hem of my shirt aside to expose my belly button and my underwear. I wanted to hit him for doing this, but I didn't want to draw attention to me. His finger slide in and touched my wet spot. I held back a groan, and tried to remove his hand. 

"Can you introduce yourselves to us." The professor broke into our moment.

I immediately leaned back straight and act like nothing affected me, even though Jungkook was shameless and continue to swirl his finger around in my juice, hoping to taunt me or faze me. 

"Ahh, I'm Catherine William." I tried to hold back my moan as I answered his question. Which he nodded at and looked at Jungkook. I stepped on his toes harshly, to make him pay attention. 

"I'm Jungkook Jeon. Transferred student." He spoke confidently and smiled at the professor with a cheeky grin. 

His finger slowly found my entrance, where he did not hesitate and plunge his finger in. I was so shocked that my knee sprung up to hit the desk. Pain expanded throughout my leg as I leaned forward on my desk and cradle my knee. Glaring at Jungkook as he pulled his finger out and licked it with his devious eyes. Giving me a smile that made me want to wipe off. 

I could tell that there won't be a way to escape, and school won't be easy, if I don't suppress my dominance. Only then will I have a peaceful time at college. But right now, I want to crush his balls in my fist and see how he manages to keep that smile on his face. 

I’m going to post tomorrow the next chapter. At the same time that I posted today.

[onlinemarketinghelp]

Branding Your Ecommerce Business – A Step-by-Step Guide http://bit.ly/2HUE9qQ

The importance of branding can’t be overstated. Good branding will set you apart from your competition and keep customers coming back.

But how do you go about branding your business? What does that even mean?

Instead of explaining branding with vague terms like “visual identity” and “sans serif font family,” we’re going to go over how to build a brand step by step.

By the end of this post you’ll know how to:

Identify brand buzzwords on Instagram

Find a click-worthy business name

Create a memorable logo

Communicate your brand to customers

Ready to get started? Let’s build a branding strategy!

Why Branding Matters

Branding your business is super important, and that’s especially true if you’re dropshipping with Oberlo and Shopify.

That’s because there’s typically more than one dropshipper selling a given product. Good branding sets those sellers apart from one another and big-box competition like Amazon.

By the way, if you’re new here, dropshipping is one of the easiest ways to start an online business. Instead of buying tons of inventory for your Shopify store, you only order products when you get sales. Your supplier ships your orders for you, so you can sell all over the world! But being a successful dropshipper requires constant learning.

  Which is why we’re here today: Let’s look at what building a brand looks like. We’ll take men’s jackets as an example. I want to sell jackets like this one:

This street style should play well with customers, plus the order count data inside Oberlo confirms that its a popular item. However, this jacket is about $40 with shipping. I want to sell it for at least $59.99 to make a profit.

To get sales at such a high price point, we need to build a brand. That brand should convey that my products are high-quality and worth the high prices I charge for them.

But let’s stop for a second. What is a brand?

What is a Brand

A brand is the impression a store has on its customers. Online stores make these impressions through a combination of store design, copywriting, color palettes, and imagery.

In other words, imagine your store was a person you met on the street. What would your store look like? How would they walk? How would they talk? What would they say?

There’s actually a correct answer here.

Your store should look like, walk like, and talk like… your customers.

We’re attracted to what we already recognize, and that goes for online stores as well as people. So if you build a brand that feels familiar to your customers, you’ll get more sales.

But wait. We’ve only just chosen what I want to sell. We don’t have any customers. How we are supposed to know what they look, walk, and talk like?

Enter the first step of branding your business. Head straight to Instagram.

Step 1: Research Relevant Instagrammers

First I’ll find out who our customers are. Not like their full names, but their personalities. I want to know what they wear, what vibes they give off.

To do that, I’m going to find people who are already using my product or something like it. I searched for hashtags relevant to my niche – men’s fashion – and to this particular product – denim jackets, shearling jackets, and men’s jackets. Then I scrolled through the top posts, looking for captions that really said something. Here’s what I found.

  This Instagrammer could easily be a customer. He’s already wearing a shearling-lined jacket! He uses emojis in his captions, and he describes his look as easy and cool. I wrote that down. Those are buzzwords that could come in handy later.

  This Instagrammer looks a little tougher and more athletic. Still, he’s wearing a stylish outfit, and maybe he’d be into my dark denim jacket. He also uses emojis. His caption says he’s perfect in his own way and that’s all that matters. That tells me he’s confident, and doesn’t care what the crowd thinks. My customers might feel that way too.

  This Instagrammer is already rocking a denim jacket, so I know he could be a customer. Like the other two, he uses emojis. But he spends most of the caption talking about travel. That tells me that my target audience might be really interested in traveling as well as men’s fashion.

Taking these examples together, here’s what I jotted down about my potential customers.

Casual

Cool

Athletic

Confident

Individualistic

Likes to travel

We’ll call these my brand buzzwords. Now I’m starting to form a brand in the image of my potential customers. My next step is to create the all-important business name.

Step 2: Create a Business Name

A lot of entrepreneurs spend hours stressing over their business name. It doesn’t have to be like that. When it comes to branding your business, there are three criteria for a good business name.

First, your business name should make it fairly obvious what you’re selling. Lots of brands break this rule and do just fine. But if you’re just starting out, don’t make your customers guess what you sell. In my case, I want words related to jackets, outerwear, or menswear in my business name.

The second rule of a good business name is that the name is somehow connected to my brand buzzwords.

And the third rule is that the business name has to be available as a dot com. Ideally, the name is available on social media channels too.

With these rules in mind, let’s find a business name for my jacket startup.

First I’ll head to the Oberlo Business Name generator.

Now I’ll type the word jackets. That checks off my first rule of finding a good business name, since the word jackets relates to what I’m selling.

I’ll click Generate Names, and I get a list of 100 potential business names. There’s a lot of good stuff on here. I like Horizon Jackets, but I wonder if it’s a bit too outdoorsy for my customers. After all, when I think of Horizon, I think of deserts, outdoors, etc. My brand buzzwords don’t include anything about the outdoors.

  Oh but I really like Valor Jackets. The word valor makes me think of courage and masculinity, which fits with my brand’s confident and individualistic streak.

That checks off rule two of finding a good brand name. Now for rule three, I like to go to namecheck.com to see if the name I like is available.

Now our brand has a face and a name! The next step is to make it official. We won’t do a full-on store build today, but when you’re ready for that, click this link.

(For the record, I didn’t buy Valor Jackets. If you love that domain name, it’s all yours!)

Now that I’ve got brand buzzwords, a great business name, and an online store, it’s time for the next step in ecommerce branding.

Step 3: Create a Logo

I’ve got to create a logo. For this step, I’ll head on over to Hatchful, Shopify’s free logo creator tool. Hatchful first prompts me to choose my niche. I’ll click fashion, and hit Next. Then Hatchful asks me to choose my visual style. I remember my buzzwords include confident and cool. Bold and calm are similar, so I’ll keep those selected. Scrolling down, I also see strong. That sounds exactly like my customers: bold, calm, and strong!

Now Hatchful presents me with a ton of logo options.

I ended up picking this logo right here. It kind of looks like a pilot’s wings, and that connects with my customer’s love of travel.

If you’re not sure which color fits your  brand, check out our article on color psychology.

Now that I have my logo, I can sign up for Instagram and Facebook. I’ll use my logo as my profile photo on all social media accounts.

Step 4: Keep it Going!

There are lots more ways to brand your store. The images on your website should fit the brand, and so should the font. So for my store, I’m going for courage and masculinity. Therefore, I wouldn’t want a playful font. I’d want something strong. The same philosophy should dictate the images you choose, the product descriptions, and everything else that people will connect to your store.

So I’m not done – but I’m on my way! Starting with a single product, I found a few brand buzzwords on Instagram. I then used those buzzwords to find a great business name and create a cool logo. And with that logo, I built a brand identity with coordinating colors and fonts in my Shopify store.

Now it’s feedback time! What do you think of the brand I built? What would you change? Let me know in the comments below.

The post Branding Your Ecommerce Business – A Step-by-Step Guide appeared first on Oberlo.

from Oberlo

The importance of branding can’t be overstated. Good branding will set you apart from your competition and keep customers coming back.

But how do you go about branding your business? What does that even mean?

Instead of explaining branding with vague terms like “visual identity” and “sans serif font family,” we’re going to go over how to build a brand step by step.

By the end of this post you’ll know how to:

Identify brand buzzwords on Instagram

Find a click-worthy business name

Create a memorable logo

Communicate your brand to customers

Ready to get started? Let’s build a branding strategy!

Why Branding Matters

Branding your business is super important, and that’s especially true if you’re dropshipping with Oberlo and Shopify.

That’s because there’s typically more than one dropshipper selling a given product. Good branding sets those sellers apart from one another and big-box competition like Amazon.

By the way, if you’re new here, dropshipping is one of the easiest ways to start an online business. Instead of buying tons of inventory for your Shopify store, you only order products when you get sales. Your supplier ships your orders for you, so you can sell all over the world! But being a successful dropshipper requires constant learning.

  Which is why we’re here today: Let’s look at what building a brand looks like. We’ll take men’s jackets as an example. I want to sell jackets like this one:

This street style should play well with customers, plus the order count data inside Oberlo confirms that its a popular item. However, this jacket is about $40 with shipping. I want to sell it for at least $59.99 to make a profit.

To get sales at such a high price point, we need to build a brand. That brand should convey that my products are high-quality and worth the high prices I charge for them.

But let’s stop for a second. What is a brand?

What is a Brand

A brand is the impression a store has on its customers. Online stores make these impressions through a combination of store design, copywriting, color palettes, and imagery.

In other words, imagine your store was a person you met on the street. What would your store look like? How would they walk? How would they talk? What would they say?

There’s actually a correct answer here.

Your store should look like, walk like, and talk like… your customers.

We’re attracted to what we already recognize, and that goes for online stores as well as people. So if you build a brand that feels familiar to your customers, you’ll get more sales.

But wait. We’ve only just chosen what I want to sell. We don’t have any customers. How we are supposed to know what they look, walk, and talk like?

Enter the first step of branding your business. Head straight to Instagram.

Step 1: Research Relevant Instagrammers

First I’ll find out who our customers are. Not like their full names, but their personalities. I want to know what they wear, what vibes they give off.

To do that, I’m going to find people who are already using my product or something like it. I searched for hashtags relevant to my niche – men’s fashion – and to this particular product – denim jackets, shearling jackets, and men’s jackets. Then I scrolled through the top posts, looking for captions that really said something. Here’s what I found.

  This Instagrammer could easily be a customer. He’s already wearing a shearling-lined jacket! He uses emojis in his captions, and he describes his look as easy and cool. I wrote that down. Those are buzzwords that could come in handy later.

  This Instagrammer looks a little tougher and more athletic. Still, he’s wearing a stylish outfit, and maybe he’d be into my dark denim jacket. He also uses emojis. His caption says he’s perfect in his own way and that’s all that matters. That tells me he’s confident, and doesn’t care what the crowd thinks. My customers might feel that way too.

  This Instagrammer is already rocking a denim jacket, so I know he could be a customer. Like the other two, he uses emojis. But he spends most of the caption talking about travel. That tells me that my target audience might be really interested in traveling as well as men’s fashion.

Taking these examples together, here’s what I jotted down about my potential customers.

Casual

Cool

Athletic

Confident

Individualistic

Likes to travel

We’ll call these my brand buzzwords. Now I’m starting to form a brand in the image of my potential customers. My next step is to create the all-important business name.

Step 2: Create a Business Name

A lot of entrepreneurs spend hours stressing over their business name. It doesn’t have to be like that. When it comes to branding your business, there are three criteria for a good business name.

First, your business name should make it fairly obvious what you’re selling. Lots of brands break this rule and do just fine. But if you’re just starting out, don’t make your customers guess what you sell. In my case, I want words related to jackets, outerwear, or menswear in my business name.

The second rule of a good business name is that the name is somehow connected to my brand buzzwords.

And the third rule is that the business name has to be available as a dot com. Ideally, the name is available on social media channels too.

With these rules in mind, let’s find a business name for my jacket startup.

First I’ll head to the Oberlo Business Name generator.

Now I’ll type the word jackets. That checks off my first rule of finding a good business name, since the word jackets relates to what I’m selling.

I’ll click Generate Names, and I get a list of 100 potential business names. There’s a lot of good stuff on here. I like Horizon Jackets, but I wonder if it’s a bit too outdoorsy for my customers. After all, when I think of Horizon, I think of deserts, outdoors, etc. My brand buzzwords don’t include anything about the outdoors.

  Oh but I really like Valor Jackets. The word valor makes me think of courage and masculinity, which fits with my brand’s confident and individualistic streak.

That checks off rule two of finding a good brand name. Now for rule three, I like to go to namecheck.com to see if the name I like is available.

Now our brand has a face and a name! The next step is to make it official. We won’t do a full-on store build today, but when you’re ready for that, click this link.

(For the record, I didn’t buy Valor Jackets. If you love that domain name, it’s all yours!)

Now that I’ve got brand buzzwords, a great business name, and an online store, it’s time for the next step in ecommerce branding.

Step 3: Create a Logo

I’ve got to create a logo. For this step, I’ll head on over to Hatchful, Shopify’s free logo creator tool. Hatchful first prompts me to choose my niche. I’ll click fashion, and hit Next. Then Hatchful asks me to choose my visual style. I remember my buzzwords include confident and cool. Bold and calm are similar, so I’ll keep those selected. Scrolling down, I also see strong. That sounds exactly like my customers: bold, calm, and strong!

Now Hatchful presents me with a ton of logo options.

I ended up picking this logo right here. It kind of looks like a pilot’s wings, and that connects with my customer’s love of travel.

If you’re not sure which color fits your  brand, check out our article on color psychology.

Now that I have my logo, I can sign up for Instagram and Facebook. I’ll use my logo as my profile photo on all social media accounts.

Step 4: Keep it Going!

There are lots more ways to brand your store. The images on your website should fit the brand, and so should the font. So for my store, I’m going for courage and masculinity. Therefore, I wouldn’t want a playful font. I’d want something strong. The same philosophy should dictate the images you choose, the product descriptions, and everything else that people will connect to your store.

So I’m not done – but I’m on my way! Starting with a single product, I found a few brand buzzwords on Instagram. I then used those buzzwords to find a great business name and create a cool logo. And with that logo, I built a brand identity with coordinating colors and fonts in my Shopify store.

Now it’s feedback time! What do you think of the brand I built? What would you change? Let me know in the comments below.

The post Branding Your Ecommerce Business – A Step-by-Step Guide appeared first on Oberlo.

http://bit.ly/2KqMdkY June 05, 2019 at 08:25AM http://bit.ly/2JYLV5A

[nxrcissamxlfoy]

uptown girl

pairing : charlie x daphne word count : ~2.7k prompt : "uptown girl” billy joel | modern muggle au for : @petuniaevans and the @slytherdornet & @hprarepairnet love song challenge [an: there will be a part two if anyone’s interested]

The the cyan blue pool skimmer is entrancing.

The muscles in Charlie’s arms fall into a fluid rhythm as he drags it back and forth, leaving a serpentine pattern of ripples in the sparkling water. He’s so mesmerized and calm that he doesn’t hear the gate behind him open, but he does hear it slam shut. He winces, remembering the

“Where’s Richard?” comes a snooty voice. “And who are you?”

Well, he had to at least give them credit for remembering Richard’s name. Most of the families who require the company’s services don’t bother to even look at the help, let alone know their names.

“I’m Charlie,” he says, removing the skimmer from the water and resting the tip on the cement at his feet. “And Richard moved.” He finally turns but is a little surprise at the sight of her; disheveled blonde hair, giant sunglasses, smeared lipstick, and shoes in her hand. She had all the signs of a late night rager.

She frowns and her eyebrows dip behind her glasses as she pulls a bit of her bottom lip into her mouth. He feels as though he’s being harshly scrutinized and his spine instinctively straightens.

“Well, if anyone asks, you haven’t seen me. Any time anyone ever asks, I’m in the pool house as far as you’re concerned.” She walks by him, nose in the air and feet slapping on the wet concrete as she heads for the pool house, a smaller but still no doubt extravagant version of the main house.

“You want me to lie for you, then?”

She stops and turns her head over her shoulder but doesn’t actually look at him. “You will if you know what’s good for you.”

For the next few weeks it’s more of the same. No matter when he starts his shift, she seems to stumble home not long after. But charlie is observant, and finds information in even the most predictable of routines.

He learns that her name is daphne, but that she often gives the boys who drop her off a fake name; hayley, anna, marie. He learns that she actually lives in the pool house in an attempt to pub distance between her and her family. He learns not to say anything when she walks by, because he will only either be snapped at or completely ignored. He learns that her father is rarely home and that her mother is an overbearing, insufferable perfectionist, a hawk of a woman for whom nothing is ever good enough. He learns that she loves pissing her mother off. He learns that she is smarter than she appears, and that she knows how to play people to get exactly what she wants. He learns that her party girl persona is a facade. He learns that she’s bored, even if she doesn’t realize it.

Worst of all, though, he learns that he is more intrigued than he should be and that he may just even like her.

She comes in through the back gate, closing the tall privacy fence in the face of a still drunk boy. “I’ll call you, June. I swear I will,” he slurs. She leans against the fence, he head falling back with a thud, and lets out a scoff and an eye roll.

Charlie stays silent, keeps fiddling with the pool pump as if she’s not there. He glances up just as she walks by him, but returns his gaze to his work when she stops at the door.

“What is this?” she asks, completely disgusted at the glass of brown sludge sitting on the table by the door.

“Cure for your hangover,” he says, snapping the piece he was cleaning back into place.

“It’s abhorrent,” she sneers.

He shrugs. “But it works.” He looks up when the door slams and smiles when he sees the glass is gone too.

“All right, what’s in it?” she asks a few days later, when he’s made her another one.

He smiles as he winds the garden hose around his arm. “Old family secret, sorry.”

“What am I supposed to do when you’re not here then?”

He shifts the spool of hose up to his shoulder and walks by her to put it up. “Not drink so much?”

“Ass,” she spits, and disappears inside.

But things start thawing after that. He continues to leave her his miracle hangover cure and she starts warning him when her mother is in an extra foul mood, so he can make sure his work is flawless and get out of there before the beratement starts. They still never exchange more than a few short words, but a thin veil of friendship starts to settle between them.

Then one day he’s cleaning off the patio furniture when her mother shows up before she does. Mrs. Greengrass has a list of things for him to do and as she’s verbally assault if him for doing everything wrong before he’s even started on it, he sees Daphne sneaking into the gate behind her.

Mrs. Greengrass is just about to turn and spot her when he does the first thing that comes to mind and leans too hard on the edge of the glass table next to him. Tt tips, falls, shatters.

There’s a screech and a string of insults but in the commotion Daphne gets safely into the pool house. “You will pick up every single shard by hand, replace the table, and find somewhere else to work!” Mrs. Greengrass demands as she storms off with a haughty and indignant flurry.

“Bitch,” he mumbles with a sigh. He rights the frame of the table but knows there’s no way in hell he’s picking up the glass.

“Thank you,” comes a quiet voice behind him. “You don’t have to pay for that table,” she adds quickly.

“How generous,” he quips, but there’s no bitterness to his tone. If he were being honest with himself, he was glad to be rid of Mrs. Greengrass’ shrill demands.

She bites her lip. “I’m sorry you lost the job,” she mumbles, and it’s almost as if it hurts her to be so nice. “If there’s anything I can do...”

He waves her off but then spots his bag by the gate and eyes her for a moment. “You probably have, what, like hundreds of insta followers?”

She raises an offended eyebrow. “Thousands,” she corrects.

A smile slowly spreads across his face. “I have an exhibition Friday night,” he starts, heading for his bag to dig out a flyer. “Come, snap a few pics and rave over everything. Maybe I’ll get a sale or two out of it.”

“Exhibition?” she asks, looking over the slip he hands her. “You’re a sculptor?”

“Metalsmith, in between jobs anyway. And now I have one less of those so...” He looks at her for an answer and sees her frown at the address in a less than shining part of town. But she sighs and nods.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.”

It’s not so much an art gallery as it is an abandoned old factory, full of dust and debris and probably rats. But there are lights on and music blaring and Daphne reassures her driver that yes, this is the right spot, and no, she doesn’t him to escort her in. As the car pulls away she takes a deep breath and pulls out her phone to snap a picture, wondering if there was a creepy murder factory emoji.

Inside it’s louder, and she sees the DJ set up in the loft in the back. There are people everywhere, some dressed as though they found their clothes in the dumpster out back and other dressed in loud and creative nearly avant garde outfits.

She takes a deep breath, and in one corner spots Charlie, his red hair shining like a lighthouse in a storm. She snaps another quick picture of the DJ and heads his way. He’s chatting with a few people but upon seeing her he excuses himself and meets her with a smile. He has on dark, well fitted jeans, and a deep red button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, different than the baggy shorts and loose t-shirt he wore while cleaning her pool. He holds out his arms, gesturing to the warehouse and all the art and she could see his muscles shifting under his tight sleeves.

It was much different than the baggy clothes he’d worn to work.

“What do you think?” he asks, looking at her expectantly.

She looks around and nods. “Yeah, it’s definitely... something all right.” She watches his face fall just a little, into something less friendly and more business like, as though he’s realized what kind of night it was going to be. “Which one’s yours?” she adds quickly.

He eyes her for a moment, his eyes squinting like he’s trying to figure her out and she notes just how expressive his face is even if he doesn’t realize it. He nods behind her and she turns.

She doesn’t know what to say, because to her it just looks like a bunch of metal strips, twisted and spiraling and standing up right. “It’s...” she starts, but falters.

“Not meant to be viewed from one angle,” he picks up, his low voice right in her ear. A chill runs up her spine and she feels his body heat on her back and curses herself for choosing a nearly backless blouse. Hiis hand touches her shoulder, it’s rough and calloused but the touch is gentle and it nudges her in the right direction.

As she walks around the sculpture it morphs and changes, the metal weaving around itself, darker in some areas, lighter in other, creating more depth and optical illusions. Some parts even look like they’re moving thanks to the ribbing hand etched into the sides. She reaches a hand out to touch it but stops, thinking that maybe she’s not allowed so she looks back up to Charlie, who gives a half nod and a shrug as permission.

“You made this?” she asks, running her fingers along the groove, trying to ignore how he’s staring at her. she stops when she reaches her starting point and looks up at him and realizes just how blue his eyes are. “You have to show me more.”

His shop is small and dirty and hot, even though the forge in the center isn’t currently lit.

"You really didn’t have to leave your exhibition,” she says as he rolls up the large metal door in the back, letting in a stream of moonlight.

“S’all right, I’ve already got four emails thanks to your post.” He flips a switch and a few lights come on, most of them hanging above the multiple heavy worktables along one wall.

Well aware of his gaze on her back, she walked over towards the tables, upon which all manner of smaller projects along with scraps and tools lay scattered. her eyes fall on a small collection in one corner. faces, formed with flat metal strips made to look like they were pressed onto a face by the wind, leaving the ends flying behind them. There are eight of them, two women and six men.

“My family,” Charlie explains, leaning on the other end of the table.

She sets down the one she’d picked up, in all likelihood his mother, and turned to face him. “Do me,” she says.

Charlie's hand slips and he almost smacks his elbow on the table. “What?” he coughs and Daphne realizes what she's just said and laughs.

“My face, I want a sculpture of my face.”

“Oh,” he breathes but he looks unsure. “Well, the thing is… they really take a lot of time and work and-”

“I'll pay you.” Daphne crosses her arms like she's won but he scratches his jaw and still looks contemplative. “I'll pay you very well.”

“I mean, that sounds great but…” He sighs. “I'd have to sketch you, a lot. And you'd have to visit the shop at least once a week so I can make sure I'm getting your features right.”

She frowns and looks around, notices the face he makes, like he knows he's right, like he knows she won't want to spend time in a dirty old place like this. So she shrugs, a practiced nonchalant motion. “Okay. We can do twice a week if it helps.”

“Um, yeah.” He smiles and her heart shifts gears. “Okay then,” he nods, “I guess you can come by Monday?”

“Monday it is,” she says, wondering why it’s suddenly so hard to breathe.

Monday morning Charlie finds himself pacing the floor of his workshop. He’s already pulled out his sketch book and even neatly organized all of his pencils and erasers, he’s straightened up his shop and tried to finagle the lights just so. But she still hasn’t shown. Finally, he fires up the forge, planning to work on a few smaller projects until she arrives, hoping it’ll take his mind off it.

This is what he was worried about, that she’d lose interest and stop coming, wasting his time and energy. He just didn’t think it would be so soon, though he supposes he should be grateful that she has blown him off so early and saved him the trouble.

The forge is nearly ready and he’s pulled up the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face when he hears her.

“It is literally hotter than hell in here.”

He lowers his shirt just in time to see her swallow and avert her eyes. She drops her bag on to the floor by the door and fans herself with her hand. “I can not sit in here.”

He sighs, reaches over to turn the vent fan up higher, then grabs his rake. “There’s a breeze out back,” he says, starting to pull at the coals with the rake, spreading them out so they can die out. “Grab a stool.”

It’s not much cooler outside, but there’s shade, and an occasional breeze to make it bearable. “Better?” he asks, flipping to an empty spot in his book.

Daphne sighs. “Marginally.”

He lets out a small huff of a laugh and shakes his head, wondering if anything is ever more than marginally acceptable for her, but then he catches a brief glimpse of the corners of her lips and sees them twitch up ever so slightly.

“You don’t need to pose,” he says as she straightens her spine and pulls her shoulders back, sticking her chin in the air. She blushes a little and nods, relaxing and brushing her hair behind her ear. “I’m just going to focus on your eyes today,” he explains.

He holds the pencil above the sketchbook and peeks over the top of it to get started but pauses at the sight of her. She looks nearly like an angel, with the sunlight is trickling in from the trees, kissing her cheeks and reflecting in her eyes.

“What?” she asks as he smiles.

“Nothing. You’re just… not wearing any make up.”

She shrugs. “I thought it would be better, if I wanted it to look like me, anyway.” 

“Makes sense,” he nods, and looks back to his book. He starts sketching and even though he’s trying to focus on just her eyes, he can’t help but notice the subtle differences in her face. Her cheeks have a natural slight pink tint to them, and they’re rounder than they’ve always appeared. There are even a few light freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose.

They sit in silence for a little while, and Charlie is on his third rendition of her eyes when she finally breaks through it. “So, do you do anything else?”

“What’s that?” he asks, not looking up.

“Besides sketching, and sculpting. Do you paint? Or work with anything other than metal?”

“No, not really. I really only even sketch to help with my sculpting.”

“Oh.”

He finally glances up at her and she’s looking around, up at the trees and he decides to start a new sketch, a set of her eyes looking upwards. “What about you?” he asks, starting with the pupil.

She laughs. It’s only a small burst but it’s the most he’s ever heard from her and he finds himself instantly eager to elicit another one from her. “I’m not artistic at all.”

“Well, any hobbies then?”

She shifts on her stool. “I read a lot. So, I guess that’s a hobby?”

“Yeah, definitely. What are you reading now?”

“Taber’s War of the Flea,” she says, not missing a beat.

His hand stops, he glances up to see a small smile on her face and it brings about one to his. “Remind me to never start a dictatorship in your country.”

[quinnyandco]

I tried to put the questions in instead of just numbers but alack, too many questions, too little space. 2, 3, 8, 13, 14, 15, 19. And -- *copycatting*-- FOR ALL

THANKS THIS IS GONNA TAKE TWELVE YEARS 

2. Say your OC made a playlist on Spotify. What bands would be on that playlist? Any specific genres?

Berlin - He’s this weird mix between folksy stuff like Fleet Foxes and indie rock like Bastille. Lark - She would be blasting the Maroon 5 and Halsey through her car speakers, but also listening to stupid stuff like Bad Lip Reading songs on the down-low. Kes - 10 hours of Latin prayer chants, and her side playlist of random Florence + The Machine/Lana Del Rey/Daughter stuff that she listens to on private mode.Arthur - half his playlists have like one song in them, and it’s always something that you’d never actually figure that he’d listen to, and you’d be right because he hasn’t clicked on that playlist in 4 months. he makes his own music more than he listens to it. the playlists he does regularly use are for parties. lark also made him a playlist that he keeps meaning to listen to but somehow every time he clicks play, he never hears anything and then it’s over. Amber - doesn’t know what a spotify is, doesn’t care, has better things to do |Sitara - like, I WANT to listen to her playlist. because she’s one of those people who loves music but gets tired of it quickly, so she’s always finding new stuff and her playlists are a total mess. Every genre. It doesn’t matter what it is, she can find an occasion for it. Edward - a playlist containing nothing but “Be a Man” from Mulan on loop3. What kind of video games would they play? Any specific titles?Berlin - Lol okay, he was MADE for first-person shooters. But is he actually playing them? No. He’s playing those cute little flash games with bunnies hopping onto logs or something. Lark - Overwatch, because of the team-building element. She’ll usually only play video games in general if she’s with other people, except for the Sims which she’ll play alone if she needs character inspiration.Kes - Is somehow ridiculously good at the first-person shooters. This freaks her out. And she still doesn’t *get* the Sims but she plays it sometimes anyway because it’s fun to pretend to have a happy familyArthur - he will be HORRIBLE at anything he tries, unless he hyperfocuses on it, and then suddenly he is champion at everything and people refuse to play with him anymore. Amber - she’s really good at portal and she doesn’t even try to be. it just kind of happens. also she finds surgeon simulator to be horrendously inaccurate and she refuses to play it. Sitara - why on earth would you kill people in a video game when you could do it in real lifeEdward - DITTO. but he’s like, super good at tetris and doesn’t tell anyone. 

bonus: Nick plays Crossyroad. Don’t ask. he just does. 

8. How does your OC keep track of time? Do they have a planner? A calendar?

Berlin - He has a lot of people barking instructions at him, so he never really has the chance to forget what he’s doing or when he’s supposed to do it. But he’s naturally really organized so he’d probably have a planner otherwise. Lark - She’s usually on time because she hates to be late to the action or disappoint anyone counting on her. But sometimes she gets distracted by like, people on the street during her commute. Kes - time is a human construct, who needs it? the goddess will tell us when to leave and when to arrive. the moon spirits speak her truth into the ears of those who will listen Arthur - has owned approximately 500 planners in his life. it doesn’t matter how much he writes in them. he forgets they exist and is late anyway. Amber - has owned approximately 0 planners in her life. she is a perfect piece of ENTJ timekeeping. she doesn’t need a watch, or the sun, or you, probably. Sitara - has neatly plotted out her day, or hired someone to do it for her. Usually on time, but if she’s not, it’s because she decided it wasn’t worth her time to be there in the first place. Edward - is honestly more of a diva than sitara most of the time. he shows up if he wants to show up. you can’t tell him where to be. 

13. If you are an artist, and if your OC can draw as well, could you replicate what their artstyle looks like? Or, if you can’t, could you describe it?

Berlin - once he smeared some blood on a rock and called it art Lark - doodles on the margins of reports and discarded typewriter pages. Is better than she thinks she is but’ll never do anything with it. Kes - paints and writes all over the walls of her shed. No specific style; she’ll try anything you’ll teach her. Arthur - Cannot draw, doesn’t try Amber - wouldn’t actually be bad at it if she’d just sit down and learn for like five minutes Sitara - Has developed her skill over the years and is probably the only character I have who could actually paint your portrait and would gladly do it. Edward - what is paint. it has the word pain on it. is it like that 

14. If your OC owned a Tumblr blog, what kind of content would they post?

Berlin - I actually have a private blog for Berlin and it is entirely pictures of snakes, jackets, bunnies, and depressing quotes. Lark - She has two blogs–one for her professional stuff, and the other for maximum memeing and opinion pieces. Sometimes she mixes them up and her professional people get a horrible wake-up call as to her sense of humor. Kes - Meditations, uses it as her personal journal, a little bit of a SJW when she’s tired. accidently follows a NSFW blog because she thought they just wanted to be her friend and she didn’t look at the content first.  Arthur - if there was ever a theme, it died long ago. also he might still be confusing facebook with tumblr because the colors are too similar. forgot his password. Amber - queen of throwing shade to people. has 2000 followers and she doesn’t know why because she didn’t ask them to be there. why are 2000 people following a blog about sutures. surely they have lives. leaves arthur to answer her hate mail, and answers serious asks from medical students if she feels generous. Sitara - KITTY PIX Edward - I tried to ask him what he’d have on his blog and he just looked at me really scarily and i stopped asking. 

15. How do they type? Do they use emojis? Do abbreviate and shorten words?

Berlin - if he likes you, he doesn’t care. you’re getting whatever he’s dishing out at that particular moment (this includes random bouts of existentiality that you never asked for). Lark - Always has the perfect word for every situation. Understands emojis and internet speak the day it emerges on Tumblr. probably started the “me, an intellectual” meme. gif queen. Kes - doesn’t know why you’d type when you could just….talk to people?Arthur - Autocorrect is NOT his friend. But he never corrects autocorrect because by the time he realizes his mistake he’s already forwarded it to you and your boss and your aunt. He and Lark have gif wars.Sitara - Doesn’t even have a phone because someone would probably find a way to hack it and she is NOT being taken out by a camera phone scandal. Amber - Only answers texts at 2 AM. Perfect grammar. Has never used an emoji in her life. Deletes them if they automatically show up. Edward - you texted him once, and he replied telling you exactly where you could stick your texting. you were never brave enough to contact him again.  

19. Does your OC like to collect things? What kind of things do they collect?

Berlin - he picks up rocks sometimes, and then puts them back because they might be some convict’s soul and he’s not in the mood to cart around convict souls in his pockets.Lark - she has an entire drawer full of feathers. she picks them up off the sidewalk every time she sees one while she’s out walking. she also has a pen collection and a playbill collection from all the shows she’s been to. she draws mustaches on the ones she didn’t like. Kes - hordes books. also doesn’t really have any books. but if she had money and a house she’d have a lot of books.Arthur - he’s got a touch of kleptomania about him so he’s inadvertently stolen every pen that anyone has ever given him. I guess that counts. (Some of them are from Lark’s collection, and if she’s noticed, she hasn’t asked for them back)Amber - does not see the point of useless junk hanging around. just clean up your life. Sitara - she has a collection of pawprints (ink pressed onto paper) from every cat she has ever owned/cared for. they’re in a little drawer in her room and she looks through them whenever she misses them. Edward - do scars count because he has a lot of those and they don’t seem to be stopping. 

If you’re not too mad at me for clogging up your feed, send me an OC ask here! 

[empmoniitor]

WANT TO PRIORITIZE REMOTE TEAM BUILDING ACTIVITIES? CONSIDER THE LATEST VIRTUAL TEAM CHALLENGES

Do you remember the fun games you used to play with your team on Fridays to break all the work pressure of the week and step into an exciting weekend? We all remember them as they were the best motivation for stepping down to the office with extra energy on Fridays, even after a long working week. But while imagining the good old days, did you just wish that you wanted it all over again?

Well, your wish just got granted. Even though we are working from home within our comfort zones and enjoying all the flexibilities of remote working, everyone needs a break. And what can be better than bringing in all those fun games in a virtual way?

Yes, we have summarized and brought you some pretty inspiring and fun virtual team-building games (and not the regular ones that you must have scrolled through a hundred similar articles by now). To help you connect with your corporate mates sitting miles away from you.

But does including exciting games in corporate life hamper your company culture? The answer is a complete no. Indeed it just spreads a positive vibe within the employees and impressively helps them know each other better. Hence this leads to building great teams in the future even if you have not met each other personally.

So, that was just too much information and a little recap to take you back to your amazingly spent days in your traditional workplace. Now, let us just roll right in and check some super fun and creative remote team-building activities that will help you connect with your team better.

REMOTE TEAM BUILDING ACTIVITIES

Before getting started, let us just look at some obvious factors that influence your plans for executing a game. There are times when all your employees are available and are willing to participate, and at times there is less time to include all the participants to continue the game for longer. And we understand the scenarios.

Hence, we will not provide you with some general team-building activities to implement. Indeed we have divided these games into various categories considering the time and employees involved only to make things more uncomplicated for you.

So, let us just get started with the first category.

QUICK REMOTE TEAM BUILDING ACTIVITIES

Less time-consuming and involving fewer participants.

1. THE 30 SECONDS PLANK CHALLENGE

Number of participants: 5-10 employees Time duration: 5-10 minutes

Planks! Not easy as it seems but undoubtedly a lot of fun included. Yes, the main objective of this challenge is to make your employees laugh a little louder and stay a little fitter. Well, you can begin by saying it is a super healthy game, but it will be turning out hilarious once it gets started.

The instructions go like you have to ask your employees to do a plank straight for 30 seconds and click a picture through the online meeting applications. Put up these images in a chat and ask all your employees to vote for the best planker. Hence, the one who wins gets a surprise reward at the end.

2. I’M SO HAPPY TO BE A MEMER

Number of participants: 5-10 employees Time duration: 10 minutes

Wherever you go, on social media sites or an interacting platform, there are memes all over the place. And we do love them. Then why not include them in a team-building activity? Undoubtedly we can.

Let me guide you on how you can implement this fun game in your upcoming Friday getaway. So, start by dividing the employees into a group of 02, or ask them to participate individually. Then, instruct them to check out any meme page and take some ideas from the same. Then, the best part is to craft an entertaining meme that describes the company or a sarcastic picture to tell all about their work from home experience.

And lastly, collect them all and put them up in a chat for other employees to vote for the most relevant one. Hence, you can find a good memer at your place.

Now, you must be wondering how quoting a meme helps remote employees. Well, the game is all about innovations. You can check who among your team is capable of sharing some innovative ideas. And later, you can include these employees while planning something creative for your upcoming projects.

3. MUSIC IS MY HAPPY PLACE

Number of participants: 10-15 employees Time duration: 15-20 minutes

Music is so refreshing in itself, and it is always enjoyable to include songs in various challenges, but this game is all about the music itself. Everyone prefers to listen to songs, so why not make the best use of them now? Yes, take up a group of 10-15 employees and ask them to take up a few songs (you can decide the number, of course) and mention the same in the group.

Give your employees some time to listen to them, memorize the name, lyrics, and most precisely, the artist. Here the fun part begins when you begin the challenge. So, randomly play a track and ask your employees to guess the song name, artist name, or bring an add-on to figure out the lyrics too.

And by the end, you will have one such employee who is focused on a given task and unquestionably a good listener. And this employee can be one of the most productive employees of your organization. It will be fun to check who is sincere and who is not with this exciting music game.

LARGE GROUPS REMOTE TEAM BUILDING ACTIVITIES

Takes up nearly an hour and includes unlimited employees.

1. LET’S BREAK THE LANGUAGE BARRIER

Number of participants: Unlimited employees Time duration: 30-45 minutes

The game we will be unfolding today is a great way to break those communication barriers within your global virtual team. If your organization has employees working from various parts of the world, there might be difficulty recognizing their language. Rather than misinterpreting the same every time, you can work on guessing what they exactly mean.

In this challenge, you need to ask your employees to mention 03 words or more according to your convenience and provide 03-04 options relating to the meaning of the same. Now, the other participants have to guess which word would perfectly fit the meaning of the relevant word. So simple yet so effective to embrace other languages and promote cross-cultural communication.

2. JUST KEEP MOVING WITH GIFS

Number of participants: Unlimited employees Time duration: Ongoing

The games or challenges you conduct may not always have to showcase the employee’s skills. It can be for fun as well. And what can be more intriguing than creating a GIF considering a given situation? Well, our next remote team-building activity is all about that.

Here in this challenge, you need to provide a theme to your employees and ask them to create GIFs and post on a platform. The best one receiving the highest vote count wins the game. Also, this is an ongoing game. You can keep changing the theme every week and add more participants to join the contest.

3. WHERE’S THE VIRTUAL PARTY TONIGHT?

Number of participants: Unlimited employees Time duration: An hour

Do you remember when you had an office party lately? Feels like ages ago, correct? But when the situation is not permitting us to have a party together, nothing can stop us from having a virtual one. Yes, if we can get on all the virtual games, then why not an office party?

It is pretty simple. If you have a genuine cause for celebrating the glory of your organization, then go all out, think of a perfect party theme and ask your employees to get dressed accordingly. Ask them to grab their favorite drink and snacks to enjoy the entire activity.

List out a few exciting games and line up a surprise award function too. Also, it must consist of categories beyond imagination (mostly the hilarious ones) and check who sweeps away most rewards.

REMOTE EMPLOYEE RECOGNITION TEAM BUILDING ACTIVITIES

Includes the entire organization and can last up to months.

1. BEST EMPLOYEE OF THE MONTH AWARD

Number of participants: 5-500 employees Time duration: Months

The employee of the year/ month is a moment for which all of us serve throughout the period. Also, this too can get included in the virtual team building activities. It helps you recognize your employees in front of the entire organization. Again it serves as a point of motivation for all the other employees.

The instructions are pretty simple. You only need to list down a few categories according to which the employees will get evaluated. And the most productive and efficient one will be receiving the employee of the month award.

Hence, this is one of the best ways to check employee activities and their effectiveness towards the job and projects. And the fun part here is your entire organization will be participating in the game.

2. EMOJI EXPRESSES HOW I FEEL TODAY

Number of participants: Unlimited employees Time duration: 10 minutes

The last game we will be talking about is a way of building a healthy employer-employee relationship. Do you remember when you attended a meeting or so and your boss asked if everyone was feeling enthusiastic about a busy day at work? And it just reminded us of our responsibilities and assignments.

Well, we can do the same virtually too. Ask your employees to share an emoji that best describes the way they feel right now about working. The happy one is great, and if employers find someone confused or sad, talk to them and get their issues resolved.

MONITORING REMOTE TEAMS WITH EMPMONITOR

The amusing games are great for refreshing the employees towards the end of the week and giving them some fun time to forget their work pressure during the week offs. And this is all because employers are concerned about employee workloads throughout the week. That too from remote workplaces. Hence, it is necessary to track the employees to get an idea of the task they perform every day by maintaining the all-necessary employee productivity and efficiency.

So, the best way to track your remote employees is to invest in an employee monitoring software, and the best among the lot is EmpMonitor.

EmpMonitor is an employee monitoring, tracking, and managing software that acquires all the required features to track every activity of employees throughout the working hours. It works behind the computer screens of employee workstations and provides a detailed report of the same. Hence because of the stealth mode, it remains unidentified by the task manager. So, once the tool gets implemented in the employee’s workstation, there is no chance of stopping themselves from getting monitored.

Let us dive right in and check the EmpMonitor features in detail.

PRODUCTIVITY ANALYSIS AND MEASUREMENT

When you are working remotely, you are unaware of the productive and unproductive employees in your team. But with EmpMonitor, you can receive a detailed insight into each employee activity. The tool lets you mention the job role of each employee in the dashboard and monitors their tasks accordingly to provide the best possible report.

SCREENSHOT MONITORING

The tool captures real-time screenshots during random intervals and stores them in the cloud. Hence, you can look back at them to check if your employees were busy completing their tasks or were working on something less productive.

KEYSTROKE LOGGING

Employee monitoring just cannot get better as you can now track the keypunches of your employees during office hours. You can check if the employees were working or had left their workstations unattended for some time.

WEBSITE AND APPLICATION USAGE MONITORING

With EmpMonitor, you can categorize which website and applications are productive and unproductive for your team. Hence, whenever any employee opens up an app or visits a site, you receive a detailed report with a productivity remark.

ATTENDANCE MONITORING

When you invest in EmpMonitor, you do not need to get an attendance monitoring tool for your employees. The software marks the clock in and clocks out the time of the employees appropriately.

Apart from acquiring such remarkable features, the tool is pretty inexpensive and also has a free trial. Hence, if you do not have an employee monitoring tool already and having trouble tracking employee activities, get your hands on EmpMonitor today!

Check Out Our Latest Posts:

Top 11 Intelligent Virtual Assistant Software To Optimize Your Business Productivity Significant Challenges To Discuss Before Working With A Virtual Team A Simple Guide To Increase Team Efficiency (Plus Tips)

TO WRAP IT UP

The article showed some of the best games from each category which will be super exciting to execute with your team. Also, we decided to group the activities considering the participants involved and time consumed only make you go through the article once and pick out the most suitable one according to your scenario.

Again, all thanks to the prominent virtual meeting tools like Skype, Zoom, and Webex. They make it more comfortable to connect with the team working from various corners of the world. And how can we not talk about the remarkable employee monitoring tool we came across in the article, which makes tracking remote employee activities so easier without any effort. Also, with the free trial, it is making itself worth a try.

So, if you wish to try out the extraordinary remote employee managing features of EmpMonitor for yourself, please click on the banner below to get redirected.

I hope the article helped you know about remote team building activities. Is there something that we can incorporate? Please drop your thoughts in the comments below. I would love to hear from you!

Originally Published On: EmpMonitor

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Samsung Galaxy Note 9: All the rumors in one place (Updated June 13) In this post, which will be updated regularly, we take a closer look at the latest rumors surrounding Samsung’s upcoming Galaxy Note 9 smartphone. Update (06/13): We’ve added new details about the Galaxy Note 9’s alleged battery capacity, fast charging capabilities, and release date. Check out the full article below for more details! Original article: The Galaxy Note 8 was a smash hit. Despite being the most expensive Samsung smartphone to date and having a weirdly positioned fingerprint scanner, the flagship outsold previous Note devices. Its large 18.5:9 display, dual-camera setup, and stunning design were apparently good enough reasons for consumers to forget all about the Note 7 fiasco. Whether Samsung can manage repeat with the Galaxy Note 9 depends on how much of an upgrade the handset will be over its predecessor and its price tag. Although the specs and price haven’t been officially revealed yet, various rumors on these topics give us an idea of what to expect — check them out below. Samsung Galaxy Note 9: Release date The nitty-gritty Release date rumors are conflicting. They claim the Galaxy Note 9 could go on sale in July or August. Two reports seem to agree on the same Galaxy Note 9 launch date: August 9, 2018. The Samsung Galaxy Note 9 release date rumors are all over the place, but they all claim the smartphone could hit the shelves sooner than its predecessor. As a refresher, the Note 8 was unveiled at the end of August last year and released on September 15. The reason why Samsung may want to speed things up this year is to release its flagship before the new iPhone generation hits the market. As usual, that’s expected to happen in September. The reason why Samsung may want to speed things up is to release the Note 9 before the new iPhones make their debut. The first report comes from The Investor and claims Samsung Display kicked off production of OLED panels for the smartphone in April — two months earlier than for the Galaxy Note 8. This means the Galaxy Note 9 could go on sale as early as July. However, a more recent report from The Bell says Samsung has delayed the launch of the Samsung Galaxy Note 9 after vice chairman Lee Jae-yong ordered changes to the phone’s design. He apparently wants to reduce the thickness of the glass that protects the OLED display by 0.5mm to make it feel better in the hand. This change could delay the production of other parts by around two weeks, which means the tech giant could unveil the flagship at the end of July or the beginning of August. The latest report comes from Bloomberg and is a lot more specific. It claims the Galaxy Note 9 will make its debut on August 9 in New York City, which is around two weeks earlier than its predecessor. The report also mentions the Note 9 might go on sale at the end of August, but that the time frame could still be changed. Twitter leakster Ice universe’s recent Tweet corroborates Bloomberg’s report, stating that the Note 9 will launch August 2 or 9. Nothing has been confirmed yet, so there’s no word on which report — if any — is correct. Samsung Galaxy Note 9: Specs The nitty-gritty The Samsung Galaxy Note 9 could sport a dual-camera setup with variable aperture. The smartphone should be powered by the Snapdragon 845 or Exynos 9810 chipset. It will come with the S Pen stylus, which could have a few new tricks up its sleeve. According to The Investor, the Galaxy Note 9’s display will be larger than that of the Note 8 — but the difference will be so small that you’ll hardly notice it. The smartphone is said to come with a 6.38-inch display, up from the Note 8’s 6.32 inches. The screen should be curved on both sides and sport an 18.5:9 aspect ratio like last year. No word on resolution for now, but we expect it to be the same as the one on its predecessor at 2,960 x 1,440 pixels. Some rumors suggest a 4K display is also an option. The Note 9 will probably be powered by the latest Snapdragon 845 — or Samsung’s own Exynos 9810 chipset, depending on the region — just like the Galaxy S9 series. Like the Note 8, the Note 9 will likely pack 6GB of RAM under the hood, which means it will be able to handle anything you throw at it. However, there’s also a chance Samsung will announce a beefed-up version of the device. Chinese leaker Ice universe claims it will come with 8GB of RAM and a whopping 512GB of storage, but only “if you are lucky.” What exactly that means is anyone’s guess right now. It could be that Samsung hasn’t made a final decision yet, or that this variant will be exclusive to certain markets, like China. If you are lucky, you will see 8GB RAM and 512GB ROM Galaxy Note9 — Ice universe (@UniverseIce) May 26, 2018 We expect to see a few improvements in the camera department. Like its predecessor, the Note 9 will probably come with a dual-camera setup on the back, offering digital zoom and a bokeh effect. There’s a good chance the camera setup will sport a variable aperture like the S9 series, which is especially handy for low-light photography. Unfortunately, we haven’t come across any reliable leaks about the camera’s specs like the megapixel count, aperture size, and what have you. Read next: What is variable aperture? The ability to capture super slow-mo videos at 960fps could make its way from the S9 to the Note 9. AR Emoji feature, which lets you turn yourself into animated emoji with the help of the camera, could also cross over. It’s not perfect, but it is a lot of fun. Check out a few AR emojis of our very own Jimmy Westenberg and Joshua Vergara below. According to leaker Ice universe, the Note 9 will have a larger battery than its predecessor — possibly as large as 4,000mAh, up from 3,300mAh. 100% sure, Galaxy Note9 battery 4000mAh — Ice universe (@UniverseIce) June 13, 2018 Samsung has been playing it safe when it comes to battery sizes since the Note 7 fiasco. Maybe it will finally close that chapter and take a step forward. Speaking of the battery, Samsung might also launch a faster wireless charger alongside the Note 9. The folks at Galaxy Club spotted an FCC listing for a new wireless charger with model number EP-N6100 that supports an input rating of 12 volts and 2.1 amperes. That’s up from the 9 volt/1.67 ampere wireless charger (model number EP-N5100) Samsung launched this year with the Galaxy S9. Other specs and features expected include 64GB of base storage in the U.S., which you’ll be able to upgrade for an extra 400GB via a microSD card. Then there’s facial recognition, an iris scanner, and the Intelligent Scan feature already seen on the Galaxy S9, which merges the two biometric options. The Note 9 will likely sport a headphone jack and may come with a free pair of AKG headphones. Let’s not forget about the IP68 rating for protection against dust and water and the Note’s signature S Pen stylus, which should have a few new tricks up its sleeve. The Note 9 will also likely come with a headphone jack and may ship with a free pair of AKG headphones in the box like its predecessor. The Galaxy Note 9 is expected to run Android 8.1 Oreo with Samsung’s Experience skin on top. The smartphone will likely also launch with the much anticipated Bixby 2.0 on board, which is an upgraded version of the company’s digital assistant. Based on the rumored specs and features of the Samsung Galaxy Note 9, the smartphone sounds like a slightly larger Galaxy S9 Plus with the added S Pen. That’s why it’s possible Samsung will add a few extra bells and whistles to the device to differentiate it from the S9 series. Samsung Galaxy Note 9 rumored specifications Display 6.38-inch Super AMOLED panel 2,960 x 1,440 resolution 18.5:9 aspect ratio Processor Snapdragon 845 or Exynos 9810 RAM 6/8GB Storage up to 512GB MicroSD Yes, up to 400GB Camera Dual-camera setup with variable aperture and super slow-mo video at 960fps Battery 3,850mAh Water resistant IP68 Headphone jack Yes Software Android 8.1 Oreo with Samsung Experience Other features S Pen stylus, facial recognition, iris scanner, and AR Emoji Samsung Galaxy Note 9: Design Samsung Galaxy Note 8 and Galaxy S9 Plus The nitty-gritty Renders and a 360-degree video allegedly showing the Galaxy Note 9 have leaked. The upcoming flagship could look similar to its predecessor, with a few minor changes. The fingerprint scanner may sit below the dual-camera setup instead of next to it. OnLeaks has teamed up with 91mobiles and released a 360-degree video as well as a few renders allegedly showing the Galaxy Note 9. They reveal that the upcoming smartphone may look similar to its predecessor, with a few small changes here and there. The biggest one is at the back, where you’ll find horizontally-positioned dual cameras along with a fingerprint scanner that now sits below the setup instead of next to it. This is something that was expected, as Samsung has also moved the scanner below the cameras on the Galaxy S9 series. It looks way better and is also a lot more practical, as it makes it easier to reach the scanner with a finger. The video and renders also squash rumors that we’ll see an in-display fingerprint scanner on the Galaxy Note 9. Although these aren’t official renders of the device, OnLeaks has a great track record and is rarely wrong with his predictions. This means the rumor claiming that the first Samsung device with a fingerprint scanner could be the Galaxy S10 just may be true. Samsung Galaxy Note 9: Price The nitty-gritty The Galaxy Note 9 could cost the same as its predecessor or more. It might set you back at least $950 unlocked. The unlocked version of the Galaxy Note 8 launched with a $930 price tag in the U.S., making it the most expensive Samsung smartphone to date. What’s more, its price has since increased — now $950. Editor's Pick Android smartphones with the best battery life (March 2018) Some people might think that the most important feature in a smartphone is its display size. Others believe it comes down to a phone's processor performance, or the amount of RAM, or how much storage … The Galaxy Note 9’s price remains a mystery for now, but we do know this: it won’t lower. Samsung doesn’t decrease the prices of its flagships, and we don’t expect that to change this year. In fact, the Note 9 could be more expensive than its predecessor. Samsung increased the price of the Galaxy S9 Plus to $840 unlocked — $15 more than the Galaxy S8. The Note 8 outsold its predecessor, despite being more expensive, which might give Samsung the confidence to bump up the price again this year. Pushing the price up too high might have a negative effect on sales, especially if the handset will only be a minor upgrade over last year’s model, but a small increase could be in the cards. These are all the rumors we’ve come across so far about the Samsung Galaxy Note 9. We’ll update this page as soon as we hear more. In the meantime, share your thoughts on Samsung’s upcoming smartphone with us. Will it outsell the Galaxy Note 8? Let us know in the comments! , via Android Authority http://bit.ly/2HcqvzV