#but i guess the game got tired of doing that while also processing me scrolling around on the map

[goldensunset]

she’s lost in thought

[imjusttpeachy]

she's a rae of sunshine (c.h.)

okay so this was a request but i completely read it wrong so i’m gonna write it again but i finished this one anyway so here take it

so sorry to the anon who requested it bc u were so fuckin sweet i’ll have it up asap i promise

playlist

ralph castelli - morning sex

crumb - bones

jorja smith - teenage fantasy

summary: balancing college life and wanting to support your best friends online endeavors was difficult, but reader regrets trying a little harder when she finally meets one of her newer stream-mates

word count: 2, 828

WARNINGS: she/her pronouns used, coarse language, lowkey OOC Corpse, that needs its own warning i’m sorry,

•••

“Look you knew I had to stream before I said you could come over ya fuckin idiot.”

“Yea I knowwwww, I just wanted to spend more time with my super-hot best friend forever.”

Being the best friend of an online personality had its perks— the amazing trips you got to hitch a ride on, the adoring fans that seemed to latch on to you as well, the sponsorships that would always send you something along with the original PR package, and especially the way she was able to choose their own work hours.

Well... mostly.

As much as you adored spending time together during the day, whether it be shopping or going out for brunch, those late nights that always seemed to hold the most memories you held so dear were few and far between. Of course, you couldn’t blame her; responsibilities were responsibilities, and fuck if you’d let your selfish wants override the way she chooses to get her work done. You really couldn’t be one to judge either-- having to call off dates because you’d underestimated the time you needed to complete a school paper, or when a last-minute lab was called in and you’d have to leave her sitting alone in those cafes with your half-finished mocha and a promise to Venmo her the money to cover it later. What left you feeling the most guilty, though, was the fact that you weren’t able to watch her content as much as you’d like to. Sure, you’d catch a few minutes of a stream here and there but any time you spent apart was usually spent with your head buried in a book, mind bleary with countless espresso shots trying to keep your tired eyes focused on the seemingly unending work in front of you.

But, a distraction every now and then couldn’t hurt. Right?

Having had enough of your current assignment, any coherent thought was long gone, you’d decided to pay your favourite person a little visit. You knew she’d probably be busy as she hadn’t replied to your previous text for a few hours, but knowing her presence alone and any passing comments would lift the heaviness that had found its home in your head and chest, you shot her a message to let her know that her office couch would be occupied by you for the next few hours. Normally, you’d just show up so you knew she wouldn’t have a problem with it; so when that fateful message popped up on your phone giving you the go-ahead you completely ignored the warning of her work schedule and drove right over.

So now here you were, sprawled haphazardly on her couch clad in sweats and a sports bra scrolling through your phone as you watched her finish her final touches so she could start her stream.

“You’re gonna be in the background of my face cam if you wanna sit there y’know.” Groaning in response to her warning not wanting to move from the comfy spot you just found, you looked over at her with the best puppy eyes you could muster. She chuckled softly, raising her hands in surrender as she turned back to her setup. “Hey I really don’t care, just warning ya bug. The thirst comments and screenshots are outta my hands.”

Scoffing under your breath at her comment, you turned your head back to your phone as a Twitter notification popped up at the top of your screen.

Corpse Husband: streaming among us in a few mins, join in on youtube

Heartbeat picking up slightly, you scrambled for the purse you’d thrown at the base of the couch for your headphones. Ever since you’d found this handsome-voiced stranger’s channel on your late night horror binges, you had fallen completely in love. While you weren’t typically the type to watch video game commentary outside of Rae, his voice got you completely hooked and you couldn’t get enough of it. Yeah, maybe you were a bit of a simp, but that sweet and genuine personality that hid behind that gravelly tone had you melting completely into his clutches. You tried to convince yourself to get over it, you didn’t even know what he looked like. But, y’know, a little crush wouldn’t hurt anybody right?

“Going live in T-minus 30 seconds babe.” Jumping slightly as Rae’s voice knocked you out of dreamland, you mumbled out a small “got it” as you once again got focused on getting your headphones connected to your phone. You’d never been able to watch one of his lives before, his horror commentary videos usually playing as background noise as you did schoolwork or while you were falling asleep. Practically shaking with excitement, you opened your YouTube app seeing the live at the very top and tapping on it immediately only to be met with that sweet laugh ringing through your headphones like music to your ears. You grinned to yourself, grabbing the throw pillow you had previously tossed to the floor and hugging it to your chest while your eyes remained glued to your phone screen, completely forgetting what was happening around you as you zeroed in on the gravelly tone you’d fallen oh-so in love with.

“Hey (Y/N) wave hi.” You startled slightly as the faint voice of your friend sounded from across the room. Glancing up from your phone, you pulled an earbud from your ear and furrowed your brows at her before slowly processing what she said, lifting a hand in greeting to her watchers. She laughed at your confusing antics, turning slightly in her chair to look over at you. “What the hell are you so smiley about?”

“…Nothing..” You grinned widely as her laugh once again resounded around the room, shaking her head at you before turning back to her screen with a scoff, muttering something under her breath so only her watchers could hear. Smile still plastered across your lips, you settled back down into the comfiness of the couch and popped your earbud back in, zeroing in again on the screen in front of you. Watching as Corpse moved his character around the lobby as he waited for his friends to join, a small giggle escaped from under your breath; trying your best to be mindful of Rae’s stream but not being able to hold back the flustered feeling welling up in your chest, mind giddy with the thought of finally being able to see one of his famous live streams, well, live. It had only been a few seconds later when you heard Rae’s voice once again, only this time, not as muffled as before.

“What’s up motherfuckers.” Brows furrowing in confusion, you lifted your hand to your earbud and pulled it from your ear once again, hearing her voice from across the room but from your other earbud as well. No, there was no fucking way. All your questions were answered, though, as you glanced back down at your phone screen seeing a red character move around the game lobby along with Corpse’s, the gamer tag ‘Valkyrae’ floating just above it. Blinking hard at your screen trying to convince yourself that your eyes were lying to you, you slowly pulled your hand to cover your mouth in shock. How… How could you possibly not know they knew each other? With the way they spoke to each other in sarcastic comments, poking fun at the other it sounded like they were close too. Body finally catching up with your thoughts, you scrambled at your phone, shaky hands moving as quickly as they could to pull up your texts with Rae. Your fingers tapped furiously at the screen, anxious to get back to the live stream to listen in more but also needing to know what the fuck was going on.

TO my rae of sunshine: care to explain what the fuck is going on??! how the fuck do you know corpse husband?????!??!

“Oops sorry guys, guess I forgot to turn off my phone ringer-“ Staring up at the back of her head helplessly, you watched as she picked up her phone seeming to read out the text before bursting into a peal of laughter. Tossing a look at you over her shoulder, you looked back down at your phone bashfully, seeing the three loading dots in your message thread indicating that she was messaging you back.

my rae of sunshine: lol what about it? you gotta crush on him or something?

TO my rae of sunshine: …no

Hitting send you rushed back to the stream, anxious to see what Corpse was saying in response to Rae’s absence, not thinking anything about your brief conversation and thinking you would discuss it after she had logged off for the night. Though, as you heard her phone chime again from across the room followed by another bark of laughter, you knew you weren’t getting off that easy.

“What are you laughing about?” Corpse’s honeyed voice sounded from your earbud, hearing Rae’s giggles from what you presumed to be their discord voice chat. Glancing anxiously between his stream and the reflection of Rae’s face cam in one of her monitors, your heart began to sink as you watched that familiar mischievous grin tugging at the edge of her lips.

“Oh just my friend (Y/n) sent me a funny meme”

“Wait, is she the one in some of your Instagram posts?” You swear your heart stopped beating at that moment, eyes glued to the screen in front of you as you tried helplessly to process the conversation happening right in front of you. He knew who you were? You thought you’d always be lost among the hundreds of thousands of his new adoring fans, left in the anonymity of your Twitter tag in his subtweets, or just another subscriber that fawned over him silently behind a keyboard. Knowing that he’d actually seen your face you could feel your own beginning to heat at that moment; you brought your hands your mouth again, unknowingly curling your body tighter around the pillow in your lap as you tried to hide your face behind it as you become more and more flustered from the words nonchalantly escaping his mouth.

“Yea that’s her, pretty thing isn’t she? She’s my absolute favourite.”

That’s it, you were gonna fucking kill her.

“I mean, yeah... I guess..” The timid words followed by a soft awkward chuckle had your breath hitching in your throat. There was no fucking way this was happening. This had to be a dream, that was the only possible explanation. You were just about to pinch yourself when Rae’s voice startled you from your thoughts.

“She’s actually over right now. She insisted on getting wine drunk later tonight because her professor’s been on her ass lately. I’ll get her to come say hi.” Rae had barely turned around in her chair when she was met with your wide-eyed gaze, panic painted across your features as you shook your head wildly. You were in no state to be talking to your long-time internet crush in such a casual setting. But with the look Rae shot you from her chair as she started to plug another headset into her PC, you knew you had no choice and begrudgingly pulled yourself from the couch almost tripping over your own feet as you shakily walked over to Rae. Shooting her another pleading look, she only shoved the headset in your direction in return as she grinned up at you. Finally biting the bullet, you pulled on the headset and leaned down toward the mic.

“Hi, how’s it going?” Cursing at yourself for how quiet and shaky your words came out, you barely had any time to think it over before a chorus of greetings sounded through the headset. A small giggle escaped your lips as you watched the different Discord icons appear and disappear from the top of the screen. You knew most of these people already which made you even more confused as to how you managed to miss that voice from all the discord chats and voice calls. Well, knowing them was a bit of an overstatement anyway; you knew /of/ them, and they knew /of/ you in the other times you popped up in the background or in passing conversation during Rae’s streams. They did know you well enough, though, to know this was not the way you usually spoke around them.

“No way, that can’t be the (Y/N) I know!” The voice you recognize as Sean echoes through your headset, another chorus of knowing laughter following quickly after. Taking a deep breath you managed to force out a few words that would get them off your case.

“…Shut the fuck up”

“There she is!!” As the group erupted in laughter yet again, all you could focus on was the faint deep chuckle that resounded through your headset. Feeling your face start to heat up, you covered your wide grin with your hand as butterflies burst through your stomach; you could listen to that laugh all day. Before you were able to speak again, though, that heavenly voice piped up and wiped all train of thought from your mind.

“Nice to meet you (Y/N).”

“It’s nice to meet you too Corpse. I gotta be honest ‘n say I’m a pretty big fan of your no-sleep work.” And... there’s the word vomit. Fuck, you could feel your cheeks starting to heat up with the ongoing realization of who you were talking to.

“Aha thank you, I uh really appreciate that. I’m sure you just heard, but I guess you could say I’m a fan of yours also.”

No.

No, there’s no fucking way.

Is he...

Flirting with you?

Before you could even think about what to reply to that with, the rest of the group beat you to it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what is happening.”

“CORPSE! You SIMP!”

“Is- Is Corpse really shooting his shot right now?”

You didn’t realize you were frozen in place until you felt Rae’s hand on your elbow, snapping you out of your bewildered trance as you tried to comprehend what was happening yourself. As your thoughts finally caught up to the present, you could feel your cheeks start to burn; pulling your hand up to cover your face you stepped out of the view of the face cam. Rae’s laughter filled the room as she watched your flustered antics, shooting you a sly grin as she started scanning the monitor displaying her live chat.

“Wait, wait, chats telling me (y/n)’s blushing right now?” Sean’s voice echoed through the discord chat, only making you flush further as you tried desperately to find a way out of this.

“Okay, okay, leave her alone.” Corpse’s voice finally piped up amid all of the chaos causing everyone to immediately pipe down. God, you didn’t even want to begin to think of the mess this has already made, you just needed to get out of there before you caused any more damage.

“Yeah, I uh- see- see that the lobby’s full so I’ll just uh- leave you guys to it.” Quietly thanking the stars that Corpse finally got you out of this mess, you went to pull the headset off your ears when that fateful voice piped up again.

“Wait, don’t let these nerds make you leave. You should stay- I mean, only to help Rae y'know? She needs it.”

“I do not!”

“I- I mean yea sure, as long as I’m not intruding,” Cursing yourself again for stuttering before forcing yourself to swallow the knot in your throat, “I mean, she really does need the help.”

“Okay just because you want to flirt some more doesn’t mean you can bully me-“

“Okay, I’m starting the round!” The booming accented voice cut off everyone else in the call as you all stared as the screen began to count down to the game, and before anyone had the chance to say anything else a chorus of laughs resounded, and then the lobby fell into silence.

•••

And it went on like that, the not-so-subtle flirting followed by relentless jabs from the group immediately after. The game was almost forgotten with how much of each lobby was taken up by teasing words and endless laughter, but every audience was just eating it up. You didn’t even want to think about the mess social media was going to be after this stream but right now you were having fun with your friends and that’s all that mattered. The grin was practically plastered on your face as you laughed along with Rae the chat during the gameplay portions and you knew everything from this moment on was gonna be different, but you couldn’t find a single thing within you to care.

Especially when you logged onto Twitter right after the stream and saw that little message right at the top of your requests.

@.corpsehusband: wanna hear some of that no sleep work in person?

•••

beep bop here u go,

[fbfh]

I think you've horribly misread the situation [shitty roommate pt 2] - leo x reader

wc: 2.3k

genre: contemporary drama, you're definitly going to get second hand embarrassment, cozy fluff

pairing: leo x reader, attempted isabella x leo

reader: gender neutral, they/them

requested: hell yeah

warnings: mild swearing, roommate tries to steal your man once again, mentions of various mainstream vampire media (twilight, the vampire diaries etc.), brief mention of castlevania (even though i haven't seen it yet lol), breif mention of videogames and assassins creed, very mild delusion (roommate is secretly convinced leo is a vampire that's in love with her), attempted age gap relationship (she's 17 and leo's 19, he shuts that down real fast), very bad poetry

summary: You and Leo are both looking foward to spending a long weekend together, and Leo is determined not to let anything interrupt it, even if it means turning down your roommate's attempts to seduce him in the kitchen.

a/n: absolutley no hate or shade or judgement to anyone who has the same or similar traits as isabella!!!!!! at her core she's annoying because she's the antagonist, not bc of any isolated trait or traits

also she's shitty cause she keeps trying to steal your boyfriend?????

Edit: I forgot to mention before, but this is a college au where you're both still demigods, so you went to camp and on quests and stuff together

This weekend is going to be all about recharging. Recharging from the ridiculous back to back closing and opening shifts at work, recharging from having to redo that stupid project twice because your professor couldn’t decide on a clear way to define the criteria, and recharging from Isabella having her townie friend Regan over almost non stop to “completely shake up her look” as she put it.

Between the constant presence of someone you’d barely consider an acquaintance and Big Time Rush’s self titled album blasting on repeat out of her giant airpod shaped speaker, it’s been harder than usual to get in some effective self care. You have no idea how many more times you can hear the phrase “I’m going for Jade West meets Elena Gilbert, with just a little Buffy Summers” before you lose your fucking mind.

Thankfully, the hard part is almost over. There’s some minor holiday tomorrow on friday, so you and Leo both have a three day weekend ahead of you, which you intend to spend entirely together. You planned ahead, frontloading homework, chores, errands, and everything you could think of to remove anything that isn’t cuddling or playing video games and watching netflix together from your horizon.

This includes going straight from work to the grocery store to stock the fridge and get any snacks you and Leo want. You had texted him a while ago asking for anything he was craving, and head into the store with a concrete list. After a while, you circle around some aisles, avoiding the check out.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” you muse, knowing it’s untrue, but hoping to trigger a memory anyway. You can’t put it off any longer, finally checking out and heading back to your apartment. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t avoiding Isabella just a little.

You know bringing in all these groceries would be way easier with Isabella and possibly Regan’s help, but you just don’t have the social energy to talk to anyone, much less her, right now. By some miracle, you bring everything in yourself, and hope to get it put away before you see Isabella.

You turn to the freezer, putting away the ice cream. When you turn back around, you’re suddenly met face to face with Isabella, who has opened one of the boxes and is picking at a pastry.

“Hey girlie,” she says, elongating the hey.

“Hey,” you reply lethargically, putting the last of the groceries away. She looks at the pastry in her hand like she’s just noticing it.

“Sorry, I can’t help it, I’m italian.” She smiles, endeared by her own behavior. You have no idea what being italian has to do with asking before you open a box of your roommate’s food, but this really isn’t out of character for her. She brings up the fact that she’s half italian more than Lele Pons blames her behavior on being latina.

She’s wearing sweatpants that say chaser on the leg in red and gold varsity font, and a tight tee shirt that says “it’s okay to love them both” with silhouettes of the male love interests from one of the vampire shows she always watches. You collect the plastic bags to put in recycling, and see a piece of paper on the counter.

It reads as follows:

Drowning in my mind

No one hears me cry

Who was I before society

Before society put me in a pink dress

And handed me blonde hair dye

And told me to lose ten pounds or be labeled a freak?

The happiest people cry the most

Let the lyrics be your story

But I’m not like the other skinny blonde pretty girls

I’m

Different

-b.g. xox

You hold back a sigh.

“I think this is yours.” you say, handing it to her.

“Oh, it’s just some of my poetry I left lying around, that’s so embarrassing.”

I know, you think, you do that all the time.

“Did you read it?” She asks, hopefully.

“Nope.”

“Thank god, that would have been so embarrassing. My poetry is something really… deep, and personal to me.”

“Uh huh. Hey, I’m going to be doing a lot of self care this weekend, so-”

“Oh!” she interjects, eerily similar to Phoebe Buffay - you guess she’s been watching friends again - “I wanted to ask… is Leo coming over later?” Her voice is riddled with subtext, the expression on her face a little too invested in your answer.

“Uh, yeah. I told you the other day we’re spending the weekend together…”

She cuts you off again, a sudden, intense look on her face.

“When will he be here?”

You check your phone, scrolling through your recent texts.

“By 7 at the latest.” It’s around 6:40 now.

“Oh my god, I have to change,” she rushes back to her room, presumably digging through her recent additions to her closet.

You’re frozen for a minute after the interaction, left with a furrowed brow and the beginnings of a headache. You blink, then choose to reschedule processing why she feels the need to change for your boyfriend to a more convenient time. That’s enough of that for today. You don’t care what else happens, you’re not talking to anyone besides Leo for at least the rest of the day. You retreat to your room to finally shower and change into something comfy. As you pass by Isabella’s room, you hear her talking to Regan.

“...There’s something almost… supernatural about him.”

You bite back a laugh.

“Do you think he’s a…” Regan begins, ending the sentence with something too quiet to hear, but you’d bet almost any organ she said vampire.

So close. So, so close, and yet… here you are.

Not much later, Leo texts you to let you know he’s here. You read his text, and run out to hug him in the living room before even typing a reply. He picks you up, and spins you around. The embrace is warm and fulfilling and familiar, and you wish it would last forever.

“Hi, Sparky.” you murmur into his neck.

“Estrella…” he says, rocking you back and forth gently and pressing a kiss into your jawline, “I missed you so much.” He punctuates the sentence with another kiss, this one to your lips, and you smile more genuinely than you have all day. You’re about to agree when you remember the good news you’ve been saving to tell him in person.

“Guess what I got on sale for like, half off,” you start, excitedly, continuing at his invested expression, “the Assassin’s Creed bundle I showed you!”

“No way,” he starts, and you nod.

“I’ll go get everything set up, drinks are in the kitchen!” He watches you retreat into your room, disbelieving how he could possibly get someone as perfect as you to fall for him. He’s not going to question his luck. He grabs a couple caffeinated sparkling ices, and meets you in your room, setting down his bag and grabbing some comfy clothes to change into.

As you both get settled in, you fill each other in on all the ridiculous shit you’ve been through this week. You finally conclude the bizarre - yet somehow standard - Isabella escapades.

“So I will be avoiding all contact as much as possible,” you laugh.

“Yeah, no shit,” he agrees, “Consider me your human buffer.” You thank him, hugging him again and pressing a kiss to his lips.

The next couple hours are spent cuddling and finishing season 4 of Castlevania. Both reeling from the season finale, you agree this is a good place to take a break, get some food, and decide what game you should start with. It’s already 10pm, which most people would consider too late for dinner, but you have all weekend to fuck up your sleep schedules.

“Let’s review,” Isabella says, holding up two red lipsticks. She turns to Regan. “Which one?”

“That one,” Regan says, pointing to the one on the left, then turns to her list, and continues. “Here’s what we know; we’ve never seen him eat, and he never seems tired. He’s really smart-”

“Almost too smart,” Isabella adds, selecting black rose dangle earrings from her jewelry. Regan agrees, and continues.

“He’s almost hypnotically attractive, and his smile is a little too dazzling.”

“There’s something… supernatural about him. Like he’s not… all human.”

Regan writes this down.

“Plus he’s always wearing black and red, and those flowy button up shirts? It’s all adding up, Ree. That dream that someone was outside my window, the ring, everything…” She says, referencing the black and red cocktail ring she’d found with her stuff when she’d first moved, “I’m not saying it’s definite, just that… there’s a chance.”

“What about…” Regan says hesitantly, nodding toward your room.

“Please,” she scoffs, “he’s only with them to get close to me, like Damon and Caroline. Edward couldn’t have just approached Bella out of the blue, he had to infiltrate her friend group first, to seem less suspicious. Not to sound mean or anything, but they really don’t seem like the type someone… like him… would choose.” her voice gets dreamy when she mentions him.

In spite of having seen most mainstream vampire media almost as many times as Isabella, Regan still considers her the expert on these things, and decides not to point out that Edward didn’t infiltrate Bella’s friend group. Maybe it comes up in one of the retellings she hasn’t read yet.

“So, what now?”

Isabella sets down her lipstick, and turns to her friend.

“I tell him.”

Regan’s eyes widen.

“You’re going to tell him you know?”

“No… not yet. It’s too soon, we don’t have enough evidence. I’m going to tell him I know he’s in love with me, then once he’s secure in our relationship... we’ll see where it goes.”

She stands up, assessing herself in the mirror. She chose her outfit carefully; short red dress with black roses and black mesh collar, black rose bracelet to match her earrings, snug faux leather jacket, and black stiletto ankle booties with a very skinny heel, the zipper on the outside gold, not silver. She fluffs her wavy hair and turns towards the door. She looks back one more time, holding onto the doorway.

“Wish me luck.”

Leo enters the kitchen, seeing Isabella already there, leaning against the counter seductively. She’s wearing an outfit and jewelry this late at night that makes Leo wonder if she’s going to an emo tea party. He puts the takeout in the microwave. She’s still staring at him.

“Uh… hey.”

She lets out a dainty giggle, looking him up and down.

“... Hi.”

At a loss for words, and really wanting the awkward silence to be over, he continues, “Did you need something?”

“What I need,” she walks closer to him, tracing her finger over his collar, “is you.”

What the fuck?

His brain seems to stall for a moment, and she uses this opportunity to continue.

“I know why you’re here. I know that you’re only using them to get closer to me. I know-”

“Woah-”

“That you’re in love with me.”

Okay, double what the fuck.

She takes his stunned silence as shyness, and steps closer, putting her arms around his shoulders.

“You don’t need to play so coy, I-”

This time she’s the one that gets cut off. He grabs her arms and gently steps away, trying to make it abundantly clear that he’s not into this.

“Woah, okay, slow down. First of all, you’re 17 and I’m turning 20 in a couple months, so that’s a hard no. Second, I don’t know where you got this idea, but I am not dating them to get closer to you. We’ve known each other since we were like, 15, and have been through everything together. I’ve only known you for a couple months. I love them. Probably more than I’ve loved anything ever. I thought that was pretty obvious.”

He doesn’t want to be mean, he really doesn’t, but he can tell from the look on her face that she still thinks this is all part of some game.

“So why don’t I ever see you eat? Why are you so smart, and always up at night? I know what you are.”

He has to physically hold back a laugh. He takes a step back, and places his hands on the counter.

“Isabella, I have adhd. And I’m literally an engineering student. Why wouldn’t I be smart and have a shitty sleep schedule?”

She starts to protest, and he pulls out the reheated take out from the microwave.

“And for the record, I do eat.”

Exiting the kitchen quickly and retreating back to your room, he hands you your food.

“I got the game set up!” you say excitedly.

“Nice!”

You take one look at his face and can tell something happened. He sees this, and continues.

“I just had a very… interesting interaction with Isabella,” before he finishes the sentence, your head is already in your hands. You let out a groan.

“What did she do?” you mutter from behind your hands.

He pulls you into his lap, rubbing your back.

“I’m not totally sure,” you laugh, “but I think she thinks I’m secretly in love with her…” you’re both laughing before he can even finish the sentence.

“No…” you laugh, “no fucking way…”

“Believe me, I put an end to that as soon as it started.”

“Oh, I do.”

He runs his hand over your back, and you’re quiet for a moment.

“You know,” he continues, “I think getting our own place has definitely moved up the priority list.”

You couldn’t agree more.

[tortie-tales]

Friendship Ch. 6

I scrolled through my notifications, shocked. They were almost exclusively from Mokuba, who had called and messaged me over a hundred times.

I opened the group chat I was in and began to catch up. They were all related to my whereabouts, except for the last few;

Red Eyes: If anyone asks, (y/n) stayed home because she had diarrhea.

Dancer Girl: Couldn't you have thought of a better excuse, Joey?!

King of Games: I'm with Téa, couldn't we have just said that she wasn't feeling too good?

I groaned before typing up a quick response.

Psychopath: Gee, thanks, Joey. I'm fine guys, I was just sleeping all day.

I'm so happy we don't have school tomorrow, I thought to myself, dreading the homework I would have to catch up on tomorrow.

My stomach growled, reminding me of my original goal: food.

I sighed and stood up, stretching. I walked back into my bathroom and decided to try to fix my hair. I combed it back, only for it to look worse. I sighed and grabbed a hoodie off of my bed, pulling it on quickly.

I grabbed my wallet, only to see that I had five dollars left. No food for me, I guess.

I put my wallet back down and grabbed my laptop, deciding to instead spend this time looking for another job. I walked back out to the living room, hearing the brothers chatter quiet down once again.

"Thanks for checking on me-” I looked at Kaiba “-and breaking my window. You guys can stay if you want, but I'm not making any food or doing anything fun.” I sat down next to Kaiba and directed my attention to Mokuba. “Why did you call me so many times?”

“We were worried!” Mokuba exclaimed.

“Didn't you just say that you were hungry?” Kaiba asked, eyeing me. I shrugged.

“I guess I'm just not hungry anymore.” My stomach growled almost immediately as if it were protesting to my lie. My cheeks flushed slightly.

“..right,” Mokuba said, disbelief evident in his tone. “Seto, I'm hungry too. We should order a pizza!” His eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Absolutely not. You know how much I hate greasy foods,” Kaiba scoffed.

"But Seto, you shattered (y/n)’s window! The least you could do is order pizza for us!” Mokuba begged.

I laughed. “He has a point, you just cost me my deposit, which was two hundred dollars, not counting the repairs I'll have to pay for. Pizza is the least you could do,” I said, smiling. I shut my computer and turned my attention towards him. Mokuba perked up.

Your move, Kaiba.

“I already said no, if you’re that worried about the window I’ll just pay to have it replaced and refund your deposit,” he said cockily. Mokuba groaned.

“Sorry, I only take payment via pizza.”

Mokuba perked up once again, a wide grin spread across his face. He giggled.

Kaiba sighed. “Fine. Gather your things, we’re heading back.”

“Okay big brother. Bye (y/n),” Mokuba mumbled sadly.

“No, (y/n) is coming with us.”

“She is?” Mokuba jumped up off the chair.

“I am?”

“Yes. You wanted payment in pizza, correct?” I nodded, still not understanding why I would have to go to his house. “I refuse to look at that greasy peasant food, let alone let Mokuba consume it. My personal chef will be making us dinner tonight.”

“I appreciate it Kaiba, but it’s kind of late, and I don’t want to get back when it’s dark.”

“You could stay the night!” Mokuba exclaimed throwing his arms out and smacking Kaiba in the process. He gave a quick apology before redirecting his attention to me.

“Ah, that’s sweet of you, but I’m not sure about that,” I said, not knowing how to feel.

“You obviously don’t feel safe here,” Seto began, pinching the bridge of his nose, “you had a chair propped up against your front door and you tripped me with a bat. We have 24/7 security at the mansion, and I can guarantee that no one there will hurt you.”

“Plus your window is broken, so that makes it even less safe,” Mokuba added quietly. Kaiba shot him a glare.

They have a point…

“Alright, let me get some stuff packed.” I stood up and walked to my room, smiling at Mokuba’s cheers.

I stopped in the hallway, realization hitting me.

“Actually, I don’t want anyone stealing my stuff. You guys wouldn’t happen to have boards in your car, would you?” I asked sheepishly.

“I’ll get someone to take care of it,” Kaiba said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Hurry up and gather your things.”

“Alright, no need to rush me.” I went to my room and packed some clothes along with my chargers and laptop. I brushed my hair out and threw it up into a bun before returning to the brothers.

“I’m ready.”

Mokuba grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the door. “This is so exciting, Seto never lets me have friends over!”

The cold air made my skin tingle. I walked out onto the pavement and was surprised to see a sports car parked outside. “Did you drive that over here?” I asked Kaiba.

Kaiba scoffed. "How else do you think we got here?” he asked cockily, continuing to walk towards the bright blue car.

“Gee, I don't know, don't you guys have limos?” I asked sarcastically, a little annoyed with his behavior. I glanced at Mokuba, who seemed to share my frustrations.

Mokuba had a look of disbelief and irritation on his face, one that quickly turned into a mischievous grin. “Seto was so worried about you, (y/n), he couldn't trust our driver to get us here fast enough!” He gave us an innocent look before opening the passenger door for me. “Here you go, (y/n).”

“Thank you, Mokuba.” I got into the car, buckling my seatbelt and holding my bag on my lap.

I glanced at Kaiba, quickly looking away before he could accuse me of staring. I directed my attention at the window, watching the scenery fly by.

The ride to the mansion was short and silent, the only noise being the purr of the engine.

We finally arrived at the mansion, pulling in front of the building. Mokuba practically lept out of the car, running to the doors.

I got out of the car and swung my bag over my shoulder, smiling at Mokuba’s energetic outburst.

I waited for Kaiba to get out and walked with him towards the enormous building, opening the door for him.

“Where should I put my stuff?” I asked.

“Seto will show you to your room! What do you want on the pizza, (y/n)?” Mokuba asked, ecstatic.

“What about (favorite topping)?” I said, glancing at Kaiba. He looked tired and slightly annoyed.

“Sounds good to me! I’ll go ask Raymond to start on it!” Mokuba ran off, likely in the direction of the kitchen.

“Follow me,” Kaiba said quietly.

We walked for what seemed like forever before reaching a hallway with 2 doors on each side, and one at the end.

Kaiba opened the second door on the right, walking in and turning on the light. A bed was on the left side, with a dresser across from it.

“This will be your room for the night. Try not to mess it up too badly.” He rubbed the back of his neck, averting his gaze. “And, if you need to sleep here for more than one night, you’re welcome to do so. Mokuba appears to enjoy your company.”

I smiled. “Thank you, Kaiba. I really appreciate it. And thanks for checking up on me today, sorry if I made you worry.”

Kaiba locked eyes with me, his gaze softening. He opened his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by Mokuba entering the room.

“Hey, uhh, big brother? Raymond quit.” Mokuba handed Kaiba a note.

“Unbelievable,” Kaiba muttered.

I tossed my bag on the bed and walked over to Mokuba. “Should we just order one?”

“No. I’ll make it myself.” Kaiba crumpled up the note and threw it into a waste bin before dramatically exiting the room. I quickly followed, afraid I would get lost in the endless halls.

We reached the front of the mansion, the glass coffee table in front of the couch looking at me threateningly.

“Do you want help, Kaiba?” I asked, still following him. We went through an archway which revealed a large kitchen.

“No, I do not need help, thank you. I think I am capable of making a pizza by myself.” Kaiba walked up to the fridge and got out several ingredients, mumbling to himself. The only words I could catch were ‘unreliable’ and ‘idiot’.

Mokuba walked up beside me, glancing up at me. “So, (y/n), do you want to play video games while we wait for Seto?”

“Sure, what do you want to play?” I grinned at Mokuba’s excited smile and followed him into the living room, watching him open a cabinet and look through the games.

I sat down on the couch, carefully walking around the glass coffee table.

“Do you want to play Mario Kart?!” Mokuba asked, his eyes shining.

“Sure,” I said, entertained by the idea of destroying this young child.

I let him win the first few rounds before I got serious. I easily beat him, flaunting my victory after the third win.

“I am the Mario Kart Queen!” I yelled, standing up and throwing my hands in the air. Mokuba giggled.

“The Queen, huh?” Kaiba walked into the living room, smiling slightly. I grinned at him.

“Yep. Care to challenge me for the title?” I asked, holding up a controller.

“Not today,” he said, walking over and sitting across from me. I smiled at him, happy he was talking to me a bit more than last time.

“Mokuba, can you set a timer for the pizza?” Kaiba asked. Mokuba nodded and grabbed his phone.

Mokuba and I played a few more rounds of Mario Kart. He gave up after I won for the fifth time in a row.

“So Seto, tell me more about that girl you fired today.” Mokuba was barely able to sit still, constantly moving around in anticipation of the pizza.

“She was incompetent, and I have no room for incompetent people at KaibaCorp,” he stated simply before sipping from his glass of water.

“What did she do wrong?” I asked curiously.

“Well, for starters she didn’t appreciate the Blue-Eyes White Dragon. She had the audacity to tell me that it was just a card,” Kaiba looked up at me. “She also overlapped my appointments several times, and I had to do her job for her today.”

“I see. Was she your secretary?” I asked. Kaiba affirmed by nodding. “Does that mean you are looking for someone to replace her?”

“Are you interested?” Kaiba asked, raising an eyebrow. Mokuba was watching us intently.

I thought for a moment.

Do I really want to work for Kaiba?

Joey had always told me horror stories, but he didn’t seem that bad. Joey also exaggerated a lot, so something simple like Kaiba's taste in food probably offended him.

"Yes. Should I set up an appointment for an interview now? Or would you rather do that later on?” To say I was desperate for this job was an understatement. If I got it, it would take a lot off of my shoulders.

Mokuba and Kaiba looked at each other. Kaiba took a breath to respond before Mokuba quickly interrupted him.

"You're hired.”

“Mokuba, she's still in school. How is she possibly going to have time to work full-time as my secretary?”

Oh. I guess he has a point.

“But it would be perfect! You would get to see each other all the time!” Mokuba protested.

I sighed. “He has a point, Mokuba, I didn’t realize the job was full time. You're not offering any part-time jobs, are you?” I asked, still desperate. Kaiba thought for a moment.

“Do you want to scrub toilets?” he asked. Mokuba facepalmed.

"....how much does it pay?” I asked.

“Sixteen dollars an hour,” Kaiba stated simply.

“Done. I'm hired.” I stood up and stretched. “I feel like the pizza should have been done by now. Mokuba, how much time is left on the timer?”

Mokuba looked at his phone and paled. “I never pressed start.”

“Do you guys smell something burning?” I asked, looking at the kitchen. Black smoke became visible.

“Fire!!!!!!!!!!!!” Mokuba screamed.

“The pizza!!!!” I yelled, running into the kitchen. I threw the oven open only to be smacked in the face with the sun's heat and glory, along with a ton of smoke. I started coughing and grabbed the pizza, desperate to save it.

The pan burned my hand, and I yelled, dropping the pizza. The pain was intense, but it hurt more to know that my food was willing to hurt me in that way.

“What are you doing?!” Kaiba yelled, startling me. He put on an oven mitt and put the pizza on the stove.

“Saving the pizza,” I said, coughing a little. Kaiba sighed and opened a window. He walked over to the sink and turned the water on.

“Put your hand under the water,” he said, walking back to the burnt pizza. I followed his directions quietly, looking back at him. He shook his head and shoved the pizza aside.

I stood there for a few minutes. He walked over to me and turned the tap off, gently grabbing my wrist. He looked at my hand and shook his head once again.

“Come on.” Kaiba walked out of the kitchen. “Mokuba, order a pizza.”

Mokuba cheered and ran for his phone.

I followed Kaiba through the mansion, keeping my burnt hand close to myself. We reached a familiar hallway, entering the second door on the left.

We entered the master bedroom. There was a bed with a dark blue comforter on the right side of the wall, a window at the back of the room, and a door on the left of the room.

“Sit down,” he said, opening the door. He walked into a bathroom and opened a cupboard.

“Where?” I asked, glancing around.

“On the bed.” Kaiba walked back to me with a first aid kit.

He sat on the bed next to me and tenderly took my hand in his. I looked away, my cheeks warm, trying to ignore how his rough hands fit perfectly around my own.

“It’s fine, you know. The burn isn’t even that bad, it’s not like I’m going to die,” I mumbled. I glanced over at him and watched him completely ignore me, continuing to treat my burn. He lightly wrapped it in gauze. When done, he sat there holding my hand, saying nothing.

"...Kaiba?"

"Enlighten me: why did you grab the pizza pan with your bare hand?" he asked in disbelief.

"It was burning??" I said, confused.

"There were oven mitts right there." His eyes pierced into my soul, analyzing my very being.

"Well, Kaiba, I wasn't looking for oven mitts, I was saving the pizza." He looked irritated at my response, removing his right hand from mine and pinching the bridge of his nose, his left hand remaining on mine.

Kaiba let out a deep sigh and stood up, pulling me with him. "Let's go see what Mokuba ordered."

[hongnanglen-arina]

The Ulzzang Project - Part 1 | Jeon Wonwoo

Read part 2  

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Genre: Fluff, crack (maybe explicit content in the next chapters)

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x female reader

Warnings: none

Words: 2.6k

A/N: Hello there! Here’s part 1 of my mini series of you and Wonwoo, the next ulzzang stars hahaha :3 I’d be happy to know your thoughts about it. I’m already working on part 2. I might spice it up in the upcoming chapters. If you don’t like that, scream at me and I will stop hehet. So, have fun! And as always, please remember that English isn’t my first language so excuse my grammar ♡

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You sat in Wonwoo’s apartment. It was one of those Saturday nights where you two would order greasy food, have competitive game sessions and cuddle together on his couch or in his huge bed. You’ve known each other ever since your mothers went to driving school together. Both got married to their significant other and soon you two were born, making them joke that you two should end up together when you get older. That didn’t happen obviously. Instead you grew up like siblings, spending nearly all of your free time together, fighting over stupid little things but always making up quickly after. Even studying together, entering the same university and sharing the same group of friends. You two were kind of inseparable. 

“Wait, why is the bucket of fried chicken already empty???” You shot a shocked look at the boy beside you who wasn’t paying attention to you but bobbed his head to the music of the band in the youtube video which was playing on his tv screen, licking his fingers clean to get another slice of pizza. Before taking a bite, he gave you a rather emotionless answer, his face dead ass serious. “Dunno. Maybe we ate it?”

You scoffed at his words. Oh Jeon Wonwoo.

More laughing, more jamming to music and more teasing until you were full, halfway lying on the floor while you talked about the new annoying professor at uni that scolded Dokyeom on his very first day and was on bad terms with him from that day on. 

After a while you cleaned up and started to play Dead or Alive to ‘relieve some stress’. You two had mastered this game for years now, resulting in you and Wonwoo winning and loosing the same amount of times. While you stick to one character, he switched to different ones but even though you two were always close, you would never grow tired of this game and those competitions with him. 

When he left for using the bathroom, you unlocked your phone and scrolled through Instagram, stopping at a specific post of a couple who uploaded a suggestive photo of them without revealing much of their person. You cocked your head to the side and Wonwoo noticed it when he came back. “What are you looking at, y/n?” He sat down beside you and you showed him your phone. “Look, they aren’t doing much and the photo has quite a bad quality - maybe on purpose - but it is still good that I understand why people push the like button. Effortless aesthetic.” 

Wonwoo made an annoyed grimace at your words and you raised an eyebrow. “What?” “Anyone can do that.” “Why do you think that?” Your best friend thought for a moment and pulled out his own phone, unlocking it and going through some apps until he held it in front of the two of you. Before you could ask what he was doing, he got closer to you and took a photo. You noticed that the room was silent. Only some faint noises from outside the window could be heard when he showed the photo to you. It was a photo of you two next to each other but other people wouldn’t recognize you two. The photo showed only your lips, chin, neck and a little bit of your shirt. You looked up at him and saw his grin. Wonwoo moved a little so that it seemed like he was going to kiss you. Slightly panicking, you automatically covered your face, asking him what the hell he was doing when you heard the shutter of his phone once again, signalizing that he took another photo.

The room was quiet when you removed your hands, a soft blush on your cheeks when he turned the screen, giving you a better look of the new photo. Wonwoo used a filter that gave your photo a nice vintage look. Blinking, you were kind of impressed. If you didn’t know better, you would say that it was a photo of a famous ulzzang couple from Instagram. Noticing Wonwoo’s pleased smirk, you hit his chest. “Yah, what was that all about, huh?? You can’t just-“ “I’m going to open a new account. I’m curious how many followers and likes we can get in a month.” 

You had a hard time to follow, squinting your eyes and opening your mouth like a fish without saying anything. He tapped on his phone happily, completely ignoring your confused state. “W-wait, what did you say? What do you mean? A new account? Followers? What?” You tried to have a better look on his screen but he turned around, chuckling a little so that his round glasses slid down the bridge of his nose a bit in the process. “Jeon Wonwoo! Answer!” 

Fighting you off his shoulders, he took his sweet time to do whatever he was doing on his phone and you whined, asking for answers but not getting one at all. Sighing, you gave up after a while, giving his broad back a death glare as you turned around and took your own phone, opening the previous app and pouting while scrolling through the already seen posts. You were facing the other direction, sitting back against back. Hearing Wonwoo chuckle from time to time or giving a thinking noise, he always got your attention but since he never explained what he was doing, you took some selfies, sticking out your tongue and pointing at the boy behind you. After editing it a little more, you uploaded it on your Instagram site with the single word ‘idiot’ and tagged him. Giggling to yourself, you didn’t notice the shuffling noises and the warmth behind you disappearing when Wonwoo literally shoved his phone in your face. Your groan got stuck in your throat when you finally got your answer.

Taking his phone out of his hand, you took a better look. It was a seemingly new Instagram account with one content, zero followers and zero following. Your eyes widen when you click on the only photo in this account. It was you two. The photo from before. You were covering your face while the photo was cut, only showing Wonwoo’s grin against your hands. Your eyes travel lower, silently reading through the hashtags he had added. #cutecouple #shy #ulzzangcouple #saturdaynight and 18 more. It didn’t take long until the first stranger liked your photo and you blinked in disbelief. That’s when you noticed the user icon. It was the sunflower you got Wonwoo when he moved into his apartment. The very first day. You remembered the moment when he stopped you in his door and took a photo of you. Although he cut it, you could still see your hands holding the flowers plus a part of your white dress from that day.

Another notification. Another 3 likes. You turned to Wonwoo, who was awaiting your opinion. Pointing at his phone and the still open app, you asked “Are you serious?” “Totally.” His short remark wasn’t convincing enough and the way Wonwoo continued talking showed you that he understood. “It’s like a little experiment. We take some photos together, upload it and wait. As I said, I’m curious how famous our little site can become. We can delete and close it after a month if you want.”

He watched your face patiently until you met his gaze. “Okay. Fine for me. But I have a question.”

“Go ahead.”

“Are we going to upload cute photos only or.. uhm… other photos also?”

“What do you mean with other photos?”

Oh Jeon Wonwoo don’t play dumb, you thought to yourself but lifted your arm, pulling your collar down a bit to reveal more of your neck and collarbone. “This.”

“Sexy?” Wonwoo smirked at you and you rolled your eyes, giving him a hard push so that he rolled onto his back, laughing at your reaction. 

You pouted and crossed your arms in front of your chest in an attempt to distract yourself from the blush on your face. You have seen it often enough. Accounts like that. And you would lie if you say you didn’t like them. Many of them showed their strongly edited faces but some didn’t show their faces at all and you guessed your site would be like the latter. If you are going to include more revealing or suggestive photos, you would care less if no one could see who it actually was. 

That’s how you agreed.

The whole night the two of you brainstormed. You collected ideas for your next photos and had lots of fun with it. Even lying in his bed together, giggling about the most common couple poses and making gagging noises when looking them up. At around 3 am you yawned and Wonwoo put his phone and glasses on the little night stand, opening his arms for you to crawl in as you always did. You just loved to sleep in his arms. It was some kind of habit since you were little. You loved his scent and his warmth and sometimes you even found yourself at your own home unable to fall asleep because he wasn’t there. 

The warm and bright sun woke Wonwoo up. He wanted to turn around and get some more sleep but decided to open one eye instead, noticing that you weren’t there anymore. So he stretched his limbs in all directions and put on his glasses. After grabbing his phone and getting out of bed, he waddled to the living room and found you in the small kitchen corner, humming a song he knew while preparing breakfast - or according to the time on the clock, lunch.

He was about to join you when he stopped in his tracks and unlocked his phone, quickly taking a photo before putting it away again. 

“What is my baby making?”

Facing him, you shot him your infamous death glare. “Baby? Really?”

Wonwoo laughed at your unamused voice and joined you, stopping right behind your small form and looking over your shoulder. “Do you know how I like my omelette?” Snorting loudly, you threatened him with your balled first that he quickly ran to the dining table and took his seat. Like the good and obedient boy that he could be. Sometimes. 

He was silent while you added your finishing touches to the late breakfast but when you started to set everything on the table Wonwoo was waiting at, he took another photo, a smile plastered on his face. "What did I do to deserve you, hm?"

You were about to take the first bite of omelette when you stopped in your tracks, fork just inches away from your lips. "Okay, what's going on, Wonwoo? You are super strange today?"

"Is that a surprise to you?"

"Not really... but today you're super super strange so tell me."

He grinned at you and took a sip of the orange juice. "I'm just happy to be with my baby, that's it."

"There!" You pointed at him with your fork. "What is that all about, huh? Since when am I your baby?? Did I miss out on something last night or what??"

The dark haired boy in front of you chuckled as you tried to squeeze an answer out of him, with no success. Slowly worry crept up your spine. "Wait.. I didn't do anything to you, right? Or, I didn't say anything uh... strange, right? I know we had alcohol but... Wonwoo, tell me." 

You saw him wiggle with his eye brow at you. "What do you wish did happen between us?"

"Yah! Jeon Wonwoo, I- .... I saw you naked more than one hundred times! I know all your secrets! I know you better than you know yourself! I.... I am just not your baby!"

He leaned back, crossing his arms in front of his chest while watching you pout. "Chill. I'm just trying to get into the mood."

"For what?"

"For sexy photos."

"For what?!"

"For s-"

"I heard you!!"

"Then why are you asking?"

The piece of omelette had fallen down from your fork a long time ago and you weren't sure what was more important in this very moment. The only thing that you were sure about was the fact that your cheeks were burning like fire. "I... why the heck do you want sexy photos?!"

"You wanted sexy photos for our experiment and here I am. The bestest friend that has ever existed is willing to take some with you. Shouldn't you feel all giddy or so?"

"Says who?" You mirrored him, crossing your arms as well, trying to remember your exact words from the day before. You thought you did ask about more revealing photos but it was just a question about the content of your shared Instagram, your little experiment or how Wonwoo had called it. You just wanted to be sure. Never have you imagined to take some with him a day later, today.

"Forget it. I'm not going to do that."

"Now I'm sad."

Snorting, you rolled your eyes, sure he said it only to sound funny. 

—

You sat with your friends from uni, poking your lunch with your chopsticks in such boredom that you were more than sure nothing could grab your attention nor lighten up the mood. But you were wrong. Seungkwan hit your shoulder and you were ready to start a fight when he showed you his cellphone screen. "Y/n, what do you think? Yesterday I started a couple Instagram with my girlfriend. It was something I've been thinking about for a while but yeah. How do you find our first post? Pretty nice, huh? We already got 217 likes!"

One chopstick fell out of your hand in surprise but you quickly nodded at your friend. Your own site was a secret. There was no way you would ever tell your friends about it especially if - one day - you would really post less child friendly content. No way. Also, where was Wonwoo?

"W-wow, 217 likes after a day is pretty impressive!"

"To be exact, it's been 20 hours and..... 32 minutes."

"Whatever."

When Seungkwan turned around to the other friends to show them his site, you secretly opened your own with Wonwoo, scrolling through the amount of likes you got until now. That's when you saw the 2 new posts. A photo of you standing in front of the stove, dressed in an oversized white shirt from Wonwoo, bare legs and one from when you set down the food in front of him. Both photos from that morning. Your own face couldn't be seen but they were edited similar like the first post. 

Your eyes flew over the texts Wonwoo had added to each of them.

G'morning baby.

My baby is the best.

Looking around, you quickly made sure that your friends didn't notice what you were doing and you tried to get rid of the warm layer that was covering your cheeks. He wrote baby.

Then you remembered the real reason you opened the app. You wanted to see how many likes you got until now. The newest of the food had 7. The one of you cooking breakfast had 38. And the first one from last saturday had 305 likes. Although you had more than your friend, you wanted the gap to be bigger.

Without noticing, your competitive personality came out. You didn't want to lose to Seungkwan and his girlfriend. Opening Kakao Talk, you wrote Wonwoo a message with a lot of cute shouting emoticons you once bought.

[Y/n] We need more photos - today. I'll be at your place at 7. It's urgent.

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This gif is literally Wonwoo right before he came up with his genius idea lol

[realcube]

the heart || kei tsukishima x reader

 summary: modern au! you and tsukishima are supposed to dissect a lamb heart in biology but it doesn’t go to plan

tw// cussing, the dissection of a lamb heart, blood, biology 🤢

my excuse: this is based on a true story and i wrote it at like 3am - read at your own expense. this is probably the worst piece i’ve every written.

“Geez, why are you complaining? You literally just play Cool Maths Games during every period of Biology and now that we actually have to do something you become a whiny bitch.” Tsukishima clicked his tongue, slipping his phone back into his pocket while adjusting his headphones so they hung around his neck, rather than having to take them off because they were apart of his look at this point.

You tossed your head back upon hearing the news that you’d actually have to do something in class for a change, “Exactly! Biology is supposed to be the one class where I am not bombarded with work. Just last period, I drew at least fifty stupid fucking graphs! For what? To find x? To hell with your x !” You cried, running a hand through your hair to make sure you didn’t mess it up because you spent way too long straightening it this morning for a swift movement of your neck to mess it all up. 

Tsukishima sighed, hesitantly rubbing your back as you genuinely seemed quite stressed, “It’ll be fine, and it’s not like we’re learning anything new. We have already studied the heart, I think it was last year; we’re only doing the experiment now because we couldn’t to do it last year for some reason.” Tsukishima mumbled, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he noticed that he was doing a decent job of reassuring you as your hair was no long standing on its ends. 

“Plus,” He said, flicking his pencil with his fingers, “This’ll be cool! The heart is quite an interesting organ, it’ll be fun to actually get hands-on and see the chambers and valves up close, don’t you think?” He added, seeming a bit too enthusiastic about dissecting a lamb heart - it was kinda creepy.

After you finished loudly judging him, you pulled out your phone from your pocket and absently went to snapchat, to send your streaks. “Yeah, whatever. Get in ‘ere with me Tsukishima, will you?” It was hardly a request as before he even had time to process what you had just asked him, you had taken a selfie of you and him with the indie filter, wrote ‘streaks’ on it and sent it to your whole best friend’s list. 

It took him a moment to react to what you just did but when he noticed you typing away to your friend, he let out a breathy sigh. Usually, he’d be fuming by your action but he had to admit, he looked pretty good in that picture - especially because he barely had any nice candid photos of himself. “Send that to me - but without the stupid caption.” Was all he could be bothered to utter.

You hummed in agreement, “Will do.” You replied, immediately finding the photo in your saved pictures and scrolling down your friends list until you found Tsukishima; he wasn’t too low down since you recently asked him for the answers to the Maths homework - he said no, of course, but it was worth a shot.

“I’m feeling kinda bummed so y’know what I am gonna do?” You spoke and without giving Tsukishima a moment to respond, you answered your own question. “Check your Snapchat username, it always makes him laugh.”

Tsukishima’s blood ran cold and his eyes widened at the mention of his username on Snapchat, “(Y/N). Do not--”

“Dinoguykei!” You exclaimed rather loudly, tears of joy pricking at the corners of your eyes as you cackled upon repeating his username to yourself - absolute gold.

“I was, like, 11 when I made it! Give me a break.” He spat, sticking out his bottom lip momentarily before pulling his headphones back over his head to clasp his ears so he no longer had to listen to your ‘annoying-ass laugh’, as he called it. There was clearly no music playing from his headphones and he acted as if he couldn’t hear you when he had them on despite the fact that they were clearly not noise-cancelling - this was a move he pulled often which you liked to call ‘blocking out the a haters’ as he would do that exact thing whenever you said something to displease him..

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow, flicking his fake-ass SOMY headphones but since they were made of wurtzite boron nitride or something like that, they hit you right back, resulting in your hissing and quickly pulling your hand away. “Do you think that your crusty, dollar store headphones can prevent my noise from reaching your ears? I think the fuck not.” 

“I-”

“If you want me to buy you new ones, just ask. How much were they? Or are they hend-me-downs?” You inquired without missing a beat, it wasn’t often that you managed to tease Tsukishima which such flow consecutively so you were obviously going to make to most of this opportunity while you had it.

“They are from the dollar store but I didn’t buy them.” Tsukishima mumbled but loud enough for you to hear, he lowered his head and desperately tried to resist the sly grin which tugged at the corners of his lips as all the memories came flooding back to him. “You were there, weren’t you?” 

“No.” You replied simply but immediately realising what Tsukishima was talking about and leaning in closer to him, “Is Tsukki a criminal?” You sung while wiggling your eyebrow playfully at him. 

Tsukishima scoffed, once again lowering his headphones from his ears back down to his neck. “As if you aren’t, with all the stuff you stole from the supermarket.” He hissed while trying not to laugh as he recalled the time you tried to sneak out passed security by shoving food under your shirt so you looked pregnant - and they fucking fell for it! Or  maybe they were just too lazy to bother calling you out, either way you got away with it though. “And this is what you said before bolting out of Forever21 with sunglasses in your bra - verbatim: ‘If it is a chain, it’s free rein.’.” 

You wiped an imaginary tear from your eye as you heard those words leave Tsukishima’s mouth, “Beautiful-” You mused, about to go on to tell him about the other economic benefits of stealing from large corporations until he cut you off to correct you as always.

“So, you were wrong. These headphones were not a dollar, they were free.” 

Of course, Tsukishima never talks to you without the intend of either insulting you or proving your wrong in some way/argue with you. So why would this be any exception?

“Anyway,” Tsukishima began, his gaze shifting around the room rapidly in search of the biology teacher, “Where is that bitch? I’m ready to dissect the fuck out of that lamb heart if he just gets his ass over here immediately. He always does this.” Tsukishima huffed as this was far from the first time he had been let down by the biology teacher, as well as all of his classmates.

In fact, the whole class had basically mutually agreed that the biology teacher was shit as almost everyone in the class was failing due to his horrible teaching - or lack there of. Tsukishima was the only one passing because he had a tutor but he was still averaging 60% - a C - which was way too low for his liking. 

Also, the biology teacher had a habit of making false promises - for instance, there was that one time he said the class could use whiteboards to create model cells so he rushed out the room to ‘go get the whiteboards’ and didn’t come back. Instead of getting the whiteboards, there was a rumour going around the school that - with the assistance a foreign language teacher - he conducted a different kind of biological experiment in the janitor’s cupboard. 

Be that as it may, all my homies hated the biology teacher..until today, when he actually pulled through with the goods.

He came marching into the class holding a pale bag filled with a dark, red substance and quickly placed it on his desk. “Right, troops. Get yourself a partner, come ‘ere and grab a lamb heart then remove the tricuspid valve for me, will ya?” He panted, rubbing his forehead and bringing attention to his bright red face. He was seemingly out of breath yet nobody has ever seen him run before; was he that tired from walking to the storage cupboard and back?

“Sir, do we dissect it with out hands or?”

The teacher shrugged, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder before rushing out of the room. “I don’t know, sure? Or maybe use a spatula or something. Right, BRB, guys.” Just like that, he was gone. Probably to go rail Tsukishima’ foreign language teacher in the privacy of his own home or something. ‘Ew.’ Tsukki shuddered at the thought. 

“I’ll go get us a heart.” He said, getting up from his chair and about to make his way over to the teacher’s desk until you giggled, asking, “Who said I wanted to partner up with you?” 

Tsukishima rolled his eyes, checking the time on his phone and spoke without averting his gaze from the path in front of him, “You’ve not got much of a choice.” With that, he slinked off to the front of the class to grab a heart and hopefully a spatula too. 

Your mouth was left agape at his comment, mostly because you were unable to decipher what he meant by that; curse his naturally sarcastic-sounding tone! Perhaps that was his way of trying to hit on you by saying he wouldn’t allow you to partner up with anybody else - or it could be a jab at the fact everyone in this class hates you for one reason or another.

“Some knob took the last spatula so I guess you’re using your hands.” He grumbled, dumping the heart which was packed in a thin, clear plastic bag onto your desk. Crossing his arms over his chest before sitting back down at his own table, pulling out his phone and about to start playing some music until you realised what he was trying to do and instinctively flicked his arm.

“What?” He hissed, jerking his head around to shoot you a deadly glare. You stuck your bottom lip out to form a pout but then you remembered that he finds your pouty face funny and right now you were trying to be intimidating so you quickly switched to a scowl. “You’re the one who wanted to dissect the stupid thing, you do it!” You roared, slamming the lamb heart onto his desk then leaned back in your chair, folding you arms over your chest in a bad-tempered manor.

Tsukishima’s expression softened slightly as he looked over, doing his best to stifle a chuckle at how silly you looked with a scowl on your face - like grumpy cat, in a way. “Why are you so mad?” He asked monotonously, shifting his gaze onto the heart on his desk, hesitantly reaching out to unzip the plastic bag which it was packed inside. 

You shrugged your shoulders, biting your lip as you looked down at your hands, shocked at how white your knuckles had become from holding a fist for so long. “My bad, Tsukki.” You said in a low voice, embarrassed at how his simple actions had pissed you off so much. “I guess I am just kinda frustrated with this whole class - mostly the teacher. I mean, we’re literally all doing horribly and instead of helping he just gives us a fucking lamb heart to dissect like what good does that--”

Suddenly, you felt something cold and slimy splat against your elbow, leading to a small gasp escaping your mouth as you instinctively whipped your head over to see what it was - however, as soon as you laid your eyes on it, you wished that you hadn’t. 

A high-pitched shriek left your mouth, immediately gaining the attention of almost the whole class but once the turned heads realised how uneventful the situation actually was, they went back to what they were doing prior to your scream. 

Tsukishima winced slightly in reaction to the shrill sound that left your mouth - “Oh, shut up.” He snapped, rolling his eyes at your - in his opinion - melodramatic reaction. “It’s just a bit of lamb heart; here, I’ll get it off for you.”

As soon as you realised what you had just done and the reaction it had evoked, you slapped your spare hand over your mouth but without averting your gaze from the god-forsaken piece of meat which clung committedly to your forearm. “Tsukki.” You tried to sound angry but the fear was still clear in your voice, “Why would you do that?” Although you hadn’t seen him do the deed, you were almost 100% this was the work of him flicking the wretched lamb muscle onto your arm - this theory was reinforced by the fact the plastic bag was lying wide open on his desk.

Tsukishima laughed, leaning over to pick the bit of heart off of your arm then proceeded to flick it away to some other poor soul’s desk. “There we go. Happy now?” 

You growled - something your friend had taught you to do whenever you were mad - shooting daggers at the lanky megane sitting in front of you while he wore a sly grin which just made you want to punch him right on the nose. “What the fuck was that for?” You snarled, “You know how much I hate blood.”

Tsukishima wheezed, he genuinely couldn’t tell if you were being serious or not, “Then what are you doing in a biology class?” His question was barely audible through his gasps for as well as the sound of him slapping him knee.

You clicked your tongue, wiping the excess lamb juice off of your arm, “Joking.” You droned, turning to eye the heart on his desk. “Go on, dissect the thing.”

[galaxy-otter]

Self Insert Handplates BittyBones Story- ACT THREE- Getting to Know Each Other

The sizzling of eggs on a pan broke the tense and awkward air that was in your kitchen. Or, well, you attempted to, "So, uh, what do you guys like to do for fun?"

2-P's small eyelights lit up, "OH! WE DO PUZZLES! DO YOU LIKE PUZZLES, BIG PERSON Y/N?"

You shrugged your shoulders and sighed, "I have a few jigsaw puzzles in my closet. Other than that, I've never really been a puzzle person." Taking the eggs off of the plate, you places them on some mini plates you had lying around. Pouring milk into two shot glasses from your drinking days, you placed the plates and glasses in front of the boys. "There you go guys! Enjoy!" You looked around for a moment, you gasped, "Wait, I forgot forks!" You grabbed two forks and put them next to the plates. "There, NOW enjoy." They, unexpectedly, ignored the forks and dug in with their hands, which made you mentally face palm. 'Ugh, of COURSE! They're too small to handle forks! I have to get, like, tiny doll forks or something." You shook your head, looking to see cleaned plates. You smiled, "How was it?"

2-P beamed at you, "OH, IT WAS WONDERFUL. THAT WAS THE BEST MEAL I'VE EVER HAD!"

You blushed out of embarrassment, "Aw, dude, that's so sweet." You smiled, and his face just got brighter. His brother, though, was not as trusting. He just watched the interaction at a distance, not bothering to speak. At some point while you where spacing out, however, 2-P has brought his brother over.

"BIG PERSON Y/N! THIS IS MY BROTHER! HERE!" 2-P nudged his brother over to you while you were cleaning up.

"hey, bro no, cmon."

"NONSENSE BROTHER, TALK TO HER!"

1-S rolled his eyelights, sighed, and slouched, "hey."

You waved, "Hey." You paused, then got an idea, "You guys like video games?"

"never heard of 'em." 2-P just shook his head.

"Well that's no good! We HAVE to play video games together soon. I have a whole bunch of games on my computer. I also play Tetris, which, is also kinda like a puzzle in it's own way."

It had been a while after that. About twelve hours, to be more clear. Even though you didn't really know them all that well, you began to fall back on the 'husk' form you always knew. You weren't the kindness person, after all. Or that was what everybody you knew told you. Well, besides Jessica, but she lived so far away that the only way of contacting her would be facetime or her phone. You sighed and leaned by in bed. The skeletons were in the guest room were you found them, leaving the door open just a bit to where they could come get you if they needed something. Everybody in the city claims that you always looked, dead? "A husk of what you used to be," was what the lady a few rooms over told you. She, apparently, knew you long enough to know that. You stared at the ceiling, trying to process what had happened. So, you had two skeleton children, or, what you think are children, in your house. You now have to go out more to feed all three of you instead of just yourself. You need to look up tiny skeletons now, which is what you did. You pulled out your phone and typed in 'tiny skeletons,' but found nothing until you scrolled for a little bit to find a sketchy website. You clicked on it, which gave you a ton of info on what you were looking for. Apparently, these guys were 'selling' a small skeleton in a lab coat. The skeleton appeared to be older and taller than the two you found, and he looked BEYOND tired. You heaved yourself out of bed and called the number. Whatever they were doing to that poor soul wasn't good. You knew what abuse looked like, after all.

"Hello?" A scruffy voice on the other end answered after what seemed like endless rings.

"Uhhh... Yea, I saw the website for the skeleton and was wondering how much you were charging for him."

"Name?"

"Oh, shit, yea, Y/N's my name... sorry about that," You heard a pen collide with paper on the other end.

"Little shit's free as long as your don't say anything."

"Really? Oh, ok, then, when are you willing to meet up?"

"Now." You got a little nervous at his tone, but shrugged it off.

"Can I have the address, please?"

He gave you the address and you wrote it down on a post it note. "Alright! I'll be there as soon as I can!" A grunt was all you got as a response as you hung up and sped walked down the hall and into the guest bedroom. "Hey guys, I'm gonna be gone for a few hours or something, ok?" They nodded and you smiled, "Alright! Bye guys! See you later!" They waved and you ran down the hall and out the door. Running to your parking spot, you jumped into the car and put the key. You didn't give a damn about other people other than Jessica, but you DID happen to care about animals and, skeletons, now.

As you drove, a mom like instinct kicked through your veins telling you to huRRY UP AND GET THAT GOD DAMN SKELETON FROM THAT STUPID MOTHER FU- your thoughts were interrupted by your upbeat ringtone. You picked up and spoke, "Hello?"

"Are you almost there? I haven't got all day."

"Ah, yes, I'm just pulling into the place now. Sorry about the wait, mister um..."

"Eric."

You pulled in and got out of the car, trying not to seem nervous. You put on a 'husk' face and slouched. You put a hand out and he took it. He practically threw the cage he had, guessing it was the skeleton. It wasn't a squeak like you heard with 2-P, but more like a cut off scream that was heard when the cage collided with your chest. Before you could talk to him, he had already gone back in the house. You sighed, guess you have another skeleton now. Trying not to jostle the cage too much, you place the cage in the passenger seat. "So... uh... hi?"

...no response. Can't say you didn't expect that.

Gaster's POV

Cages were the new normal were he ended up. This... human girl was trying to talk to him. She seemed like a kind person, judging by her SOUL color. Kindness was sometimes contagious, or so he heard. He wanted to scream, cry, do ANYTHING! But... he couldn't. His spine hurt from the impact of the cage being thrown. He's practically going insane from the lack of nicotine. He's extremely tired from lack of sleep. His head was spinning and he felt like he was gonna throw up despite not having a stomach.

The girl's voice was kind of sad when she spoke, "I... uh, don't really know what happened with you, and a part of me doesn't really wanna know. But, I'm gonna help! Or, well, TRY to help. Don't, like, take that to heart though. Wait, was that offensive? Oh goodness, I'm not... I don't... I sorry." He peaked through the holes to see her slouching more than she was before.

Gaster spoke, "I'm fine, that statement was not offensive, do not worry."

She sighed, "Oh, that's a relief. Here I thought I completely soiled my first impression towards you." She laughed, albeit a small one. "I'm not really the most, sociable of people, so I'm not really good at the whole 'communicating' thing, ya know?"

He nodded, he knew what being nonsocial able was like. He was just like that back... underground... Wait, ARE THEY ON THE SURFACE?! He coughed, "Human? Where are we right now?"

She tapped her chin, "Uh, pulling into my driveway right now, why?"

"No reason."

She gasped, which made him flinch on impulse, "I never told you about the boys!" 'Who?' "I'm not sure if you know them, but they're really sweet! When... 2-P is most of the ti-"

"Who?"

"2-P! I found him in my guest bedroom. His brother's there too! You're gonna love 'em, I just know it! So, do you want me to carry you, or do you prefer the cage?"

"I... do not mind."

"I'm just gonna carry you, then." He didn't move when she opened the cage and picked him up. 2-P... and 1-S, were with this human this whole time? He'll have to check them for injuries, but he had a feeling that they were not. She pushed the door open and kicked off her shoes, slowly walking into the kitchen. She placed her hand on the table and he climbed off of it. "Alright! I'm gonna go get them! Be right back!" She waved and ran down the hall, leaving Gaster alone with his thoughts. He didn't even know where they WERE and that was the least of his problems. He didn't even know where to BEGIN when it came to finding answers for this... this... commotion that was his life right now! First, Eric. Now, some human girl who just happened to have his things! He sighed and buried his head in his hands.

This was going to be a... troubling experience.

[emisfritish]

One of a kind

Pairing : Sarawat / Tine (2gether the series)

Summary : In which Tine has an epiphany, Sarawat is in shock and all of their friends enjoy making fun of them way too much.

Well, this was supposed to be something funny, but I am apparently incapable of not writing these boys being soft with each other. Sorry I guess. Anyway, I hope this helps make the wait until the episode tomorrow a little easier !

-----------

“You were hiding a card, you dirty cheat ! This round shouldn’t count !”

Tine and Sarawat who are currently walking back towards Tine’s bedroom both pause and look at each other with a mixture of amusement and worry, not knowing what caused Type to scream loud enough that the sound could be heard from the corridor outside of Tine’s bedroom, where they are currently standing. 

“How long were we gone already ?” asks Sarawat laughing softly, as they stop in front of Tine’s closed door. 

“Too long…,” answers Tine with a sigh. “Why did we think it was a good idea to leave all of them alone in my dorm room again ?”

“Well, we needed to go out and buy reinforcements,” Sarawat answers with a smirk and a wink thrown Tine’s way, while squeezing the hand that he’s been holding in his since they started their way back to the dorm rooms. In his other hand, Sarawat is holding a plastic bag where several bottles of alcohol can be heard clinking against each other.

Tine can feel his cheeks warm up, and he gently nudges his boyfriend with his elbow in retaliation for making him shy. 

At his reaction, Sarawat laughs quietly and drags Tine closer to him by pulling on his hand, before pressing a couple closed mouthed kisses on his lips. 

To mark the end of their exams and their newfound freedom, their entire group of friends had decided that an evening of hanging out and drinking in Tine’s bedroom was the perfect way to celebrate. When they had run out of drinks about 45 minutes ago, Tine and Sarawat had instantly offered to go and buy more for the group, leaving the other boys alone in Tine’s bedroom. And if they had jumped at the opportunity to be alone so they could stop to make out in a dark corner for a couple minutes or fifteen, well… Their friends didn’t need to know that.

“Plus, we thought Type would be able to keep an eye on them,” continues Sarawat when he pulls back from the kiss. 

“You’ve clearly never played cards with Type before,” Tine says with a sigh, pulling his hand out of Sarawat’s to open up the door to his dorm room. 

When they arrive inside, Tine sees all of their friends and his brother sitting on the floor in a circle, deck of cards in the middle of them. Type, would could be heard screaming not a minute ago, currently has a hold on Man’s neck holding him in place against his chest with one arm, while using his free hand to mess up his hair. 

At the sight, Tine can’t help but lift his eyebrows in teasing towards his brother, and Type just huffs out a breath before letting go of Man’s head. 

“Well, well. Look who’s finally back. Take a little bit of a detour, did we ?” asks Boss with a knowing smile. 

“We wanted to make sure we got good drinks !” Tine answers to justify their prolonged absence, but the effect is clearly ruined by the proud smile that Sarawat throws at their friends as he puts the plastic bag with the bottles on the desk. 

When all of them start laughing, Tine looks at his boyfriend with exasperation, but Sarawat only shrugs and pecks him on the cheek, before making his way to the bed and lying down on it. 

“Whatever,” mumbles Tine, feeling his cheeks get warmer again.

“We started a card game while you guys were gone,” explains a clearly tipsy Fong, and Tine can’t help but roll his eyes with fondness at his obvious statement. 

“I can see that.”

“Do you guys want to join ?” Man asks, causing Tine to look at him in horror. 

“And play with Type, risking losing a few limbs in the process ?” he reacts incredulously. “Nope, we’ll pass.”

Tine can see his brother roll his eyes at the statement, but he doesn’t say anything to dispute the accusation.

Making his way towards the bed, Tine climbs on it to lie down with his head resting on Sarawat’s stomach and his legs dangling from the side of the bed.

His boyfriend who is currently scrolling on his phone absentmindedly immediately places one of his hands to his head and starts gently playing with his hair, causing Tine to sigh in content and close his eyes to enjoy the moment.

For the next few minutes, neither boy says anything, happy to simply lie down together, while listening to their friend’s loud talking and Sarawat’s music playing in the background. 

When Click starts playing, Sarawat starts singing softly, only audible to Tine’s ears, and Tine feels his heart grow in his chest. He’ll never get tired of his boyfriend’s singing. 

“I’ve never met anyone not too left, not too right, not too perfect, not too pessimistic or too demanding, but that has something extraordinary,” Sarawat continues singing and hearing those words, Tine suddenly opens his eyes in shock and sits straight to look at Sarawat. 

“Oh my god, it was me !” he exclaims, expressing the epiphany he just had. 

Sarawat, probably used to his antics by now, just raises an eyebrow in question. 

“What are you talking about ?” he asks.

“The song ! This song, that you sang that night ! It was me !” continues Tine, trying to make him understand. 

“Tua Woon Wai, you realize you’re not making any sense right now, don’t you ?” Sarawat asks in amusement.

“Do you remember that night, when you sang me this song ?” Tine tries to explain, but Sarawat only frowns in confusion, obviously trying to remember. “It was the night Fong kicked me in the face,” he continues, trying to refresh his memory. 

“I’m sorry, I did what now ?” he hears Fong ask in the background, but he ignores him.

He finally sees a look of recognition pass on Sarawat’s face, before his boyfriend nods his understanding, waiting for him to continue his explanation.

“You sang that song to me.”

“I did,” answers Sarawat, clearly still not quite understanding what Tine is trying to tell him. 

“And we talked about the person you liked, and what they were like, and god.... That was me. You were talking about me,” Tine finishes, wonder apparent in his voice. 

Sarawat continues staring at him for a few seconds, before he sits up and looks at Tine incredulously. 

“You’re only figuring this out now ?” he asks in shock, and Tine just shrugs in answer. 

“Tine, how long have we been together ?” he continues. 

“About 10 months or so,” answers Tine simply.

“And how many times have we listened to this song since then ?” Sarawat questions. 

“Too many to count,” Tine finally answers, starting to get what his boyfriend is getting at. 

“So how in heaven’s name are you only figuring this out now ? I poured my heart out to you through this song that night. And now you’re trying to tell me you hadn’t even understood what I was trying to tell you?” he asks, almost sounding a little offended. 

“Well, obviously not. Or I would have said something at least,” Tine says in answer. 

“I thought you were just trying to ignore my feelings,” Sarawat says in a small voice, and Tine feels guilt fill him up when he thinks back to everything he had unknowingly put Sarawat through before they got together. 

“You know I wouldn’t do that,” he whispers, and Sarawat nods, because he does know that. Now, at least. He knows that now, but apparently, it hadn’t been clear to him back then.

“I don’t know how you didn’t figure out I was trying to tell you I loved you,” Sarawat finally says, laughing softly.

“Hey now,”, Tine exclaims in protest. “It’s not my fault you weren’t being obvious enough Salaleo, is it ?”

Hearing those words, Sarawat stares at him, once again in apparent shock.

“Not obvious enough ?” he asks after a few seconds, his voice cracking a little with his attempt to hold his laughter. 

“Well to be fair, he did have your picture as the background on his phone,” says Fong, breaking into their conversation and reminding Tine that they are other people in the room with them.

“And he did have an Instagram account filled with pictures of you and only you,” says Ohm absentmindedly, while still focussed on the cards he is selecting to put down.

“There was also that time that he bought himself a bag of chips, only to give them to you not even a minute later by pretending they were from his fan club,” says Boss with a teasing smile towards Sarawat.

“Yeah… Add to that the fact that he kissed you at least twice before even officially telling you about his feelings,” says Puek, clearly enjoying making fun of Tine when the man in question interrupts him.

“That first one during the game wasn’t a kiss,” Tine says in reflex, by now having had the argument many times with Sarawat about when their first kiss was. 

“They were also all of those Scrubb songs that he learned for you,” teases Type, clearly having been told all of Sarawat’s attempts at wooing his brother. 

“Plus you know, there is the small matter of him agreeing to fake date you in the first place...” concludes Man before Tine interrupts him. 

“Okay, okay, I get it ! So it was obvious !” he says, feeling his cheeks warm up for the third time tonight.

The boys all smile teasingly at the two of them, before shrugging and turning back to their game, clearly done with teasing them for the moment.

Tine turns towards Sarawat and looks at him in embarrassment, and his boyfriend just smiles lovingly at him and shrugs his shoulders.

“You really are one of a kind. I was very obvious Tua Woon Wai,” he says, before laying back down and pulling Tine with him, arranging them so Tine is laying across from him and they are facing each other, this time.

“Why do you think you couldn’t see it ?” he asks softly a minute later, quiet enough that the other boys won’t be able to hear their conversation.

“It’s not really that I couldn’t see it. It’s just that… It didn’t add up in my mind,” Tine says in a small voice. “Like I realize now, that all the clues were there, but it was just such a foreign idea that it didn’t even occur to me that you liked me. Not until you told me directly,” Tine tries to explain. 

“Didn’t add up because I’m a guy ?”, Sarawat asks him, lifting one of his hands to caress Tine’s cheek with the back of his fingers. 

“I mean, maybe partly,” Tine answers. “But mainly because you’re you. Because you were the cool guy who was so good at music, who was studying political sciences, who had a fan club the same number as like… all of my facebook friends put together. And just… It was unimaginable that someone like you could actually love someone like me,” he finishes with a small self-deprecating smile.

He sees Sarawat’s face cloud with sadness at his words, and Tine instantly feels bad. 

“I didn’t mean to make you sad,” he says, taking the hand that Sarawat has left on his cheek in his and squeezing it to reassure the other man. 

“It’s not you who’s making me sad, really,” explains Sarawat. “What makes me sad is the fact that you don’t realize how much of a catch you actually are. Like don’t go trading me for a newer model, you’re still reserved, but look at the number of people who actually liked you : Green, Mil, all of your exes… I just wish you could see yourself more clearly and realize that me loving you is exactly what you deserve, and more.” he finishes, emotion clear in his voice and Tine can feel his eyes filling with small tears at the words. 

He pushes forward and kisses Sarawat softly, feeling his love for the other boy grow tenfold. 

“Well, thank you for saying that, I love you for it,” he says when he pulls back. “But nowadays, I don’t really care about being a catch. In fact, I’d much rather keep you instead.”

“You’d better,” mumbles Sarawat teasingly, before kissing him a couple more times, which is made very difficult by Tine’s laughing.

“Hey, lovebirds ! We’re trying to play here,” a voice interrupts them and Tine sighs at Ohm’s words, having managed to forget that they weren’t alone in the room again. “Since you guys can’t behave up here and we do not want a show, I say you come down and play the next round with us.”

Reluctantly, Sarawat and Tine sit up on the bed, before making their way down to the floor to sit with their friends, who move around to include them in the circle. Sarawat seats himself with his back against the bottom of the bed, and Tine settles in between his legs, head resting in the space between Sarawat’s neck and shoulder.

“Wat, just so you know, you’re a pretty great catch yourself,” whispers Tine softly before pressing a small kiss to Sarawat’s neck. “But don’t go giving anyone any ideas, because I think seeing as we are both so great, maybe we should just stick with each other.”

At those words, Sarawat laughs and bends his neck down to kiss Tine on the mouth, before he pulls back rolling his eyes in annoyance when all of their friends start complaining.

“Okay, let’s play. But just so you know, this better be a hell of a game, because I was actually highly enjoying what we were busy doing before you guys interrupted us,” he says seemingly non-pulsed by the moans he gets in answer from their friends, and Tine’s elbow in his stomach.

God, his boyfriend is so shameless, thinks Tine. But yes, sticking with each other forever sounds just about perfect right now, even if his boyfriend did call him “a weird one”.

[themadauthorshatter]

GUESS WHO'S BACK? BACK AGAIN WITH TOPPAT!CHARLES!?

Man, I do not know how long it's been since I last made a post on Toppat!Charles, but it's been a while!!!!

If you haven't read the previous parts, you can find them here:

Part 1:

Part 2:

Part 3: https://themadauthors-bitch.tumblr.com/post/634320381188161536/i-dont-know-if-tumblr-showed-it-or-not-but-here

Part 4: https://themadauthors-bitch.tumblr.com/post/634769620050558976/welcome-back-one-and-all

Part 5:

Part 6:

As usual: RECAP!!!

Henry acts on his plan to rescue Charles, said plan being to use the location of the clan's next big heist to get info or Charles himself. The plan went awry with the heist succeeding, Ellie getting severely injured, and Henry getting the snot kicked out of him by none other than Charles himself, who had given up on the notion that he would be rescued and stepped up to join his captors. Confused about and torn apart by Charles's and Ellie's words, we left Henry alone and guilty over the night's events.

HEAVY recap, I know, but one more thing before we truly begin: Two of the clan's previous leaders make an appearance in this chapter.

We good with all that? Great!

ON WITH THE STORY!!!!!!

We start off in the dead in night, in the middle of the dessert. Quiet and still as the moon shines high in the night sky.

Terrence Suave sprints on the sand as best as he can, panting heavily because he hasn't been full-fledged running in an eternity. CCC trucks are speeding behind him, but there is a bank truck ahead that just started driving and like hell Terrence isn't getting on it, especially if the truck is heading towards the city.

Nets and tranquilizers are being shot at him to retrieve him, but a lot of the darts keep bouncing off his augmentations and thankfully missing him and lqnding in the sand.

The CCC trucks are catching up, but Terrence continues running, tired and sore; his lungs burning and the stumps of where his arms and leg used to be are sore, not the metal, though there is a phantom limb feeling going on and it is not a good feeling to have right now; even if one of his legs are metal, the other is sore as hell.

He gets closer to the bank truck as its speed increases, Terrence letting out a yell as he jumps and snatches the latch of the door and hops on, holding on for dear life as he sees the CCC trucks slow and eventually turn around.

He heaves and breathes very fast and heavily as he watches the sky, noting the orbital station.

"Right," he says raspily, "you sorry son of a bitch."

CUT TO HENRY!!!

We find him watching with a hollow expression as Ellie is doing some physical therapy to help her leg; Charles is surprisingly one hell of a shot.

The two partners haven't spoken since the plan backfired and while Ellie waves at Henry, Henry only keeps his expression.

It's hard to live life when you can't stop living.

The words have had plenty of time to sink in.

Ellie and Henry are the same.

And Henry feels dumb for not noticing sooner.

"Whatever happened between you two, you better patch it up before that CCC guy gets here."

Henry looks over his shoulder to see Galeforce walking to stand beside him.

"Bill Bullet called. Even though the mission... didn't go as planned, he still wants to bring you into his facility."

Henry turns back to Ellie in time to see her trip and fall down, her leg shaking. She's been walking for maybe an hour and, while she has gotten stronger, she is also tired and needs to rest.

'Only if Charles came back here safely. That was our agreement.'

"Guess he can't wait."

Henry continues to watch Ellie help herself into her crutches.

CUT TO THE ORBITAL STATION!!!

Charles is standing in that cafeteria area that Right was in in the Free Man ending and staring at Earth.

The heist was a success. The clan got the sapphire. No one got arrested.

But Ellie got hurt.

Sure, she wasn't there to help him, but she was still busy taking care of the toppat, and she got injured, so there's that.

"Like the view, kid?"

Charles doesn't look at Right when he walks up to and stands beside him.

"Reg always talked about wanting a view like this. 'E really liked the sky. Night, day, didn't matter. 'E jist didn't want to be stuck on the ground."

Charles turns his head slightly. "How close were you two?"

"Closer than you and those two criminals were."

Charles looks back at the window, content to let Right keep talking.

"The clan was in shambles after the last leader took over. Reg 'ad some big shoes to fill, and 'e knew that. Didn't stop 'im from stepping up." Right leans forward on the glass with his arm, his head against forearm. "'E was better than the other leaders. Smarter. 'E got the clan back on its feet. Never met a toppat leader who took good care of the clan."

Charles doesn't look at Right, but imagine if this was a game cutscene or movie or something. We'd have Right be closer to the camera and in better focus with Charles beside him, but seemingly behind him, with how the shot is framed, and out of focus.

Charles is back in focus as he asks, "He was that good, huh?"

Right only nods, not looking away from Earth.

"If that's the case, he should've been more careful, then. None of this would've happened, if he was."

Quick as a flash, Right grabs Charles and smashes him into the window by his collar.

"Careful, pilot. You might be in the toppat clan, but no one 'ere'll stop me from throwing you out there."

Right glares at Charles for a second longer before letting him go and leaving the room with no more words spoken.

Charles resumes staring at Earth.

Sorry, Ellie.

CUT BACK TO EARTH!

Back to Henry sleeping in his bed. I know, I'm so original, right?🤪🥴

Don't worry, this time is different.😉

While Henry sleeps, someone quite rudely bursts into his room, waking him up.

Before he can draw the gun under his pillow, one cybernetic hand grabbing his mouth while the other holds down the hand that's going for the gun, and a normal, human knee digs into his stomach.

"Sorry to wake you up, but this is important."

Henry's eyes adjust and and he sees Terrence Suave over him, sweaty, ragged, and shaking from running for miles on end.

Henry stares at his father with wide eyes before using his free hand to write a message on Terrence's forehead: 'What. The. Hell.'

"Just stay quiet, okay? I have an idea on how we can get your friend back and keep you out of-"

Henry shakes his head and writes another message.

'It didn't work. He got away with the sapphire and won't let is help.'

Terrence sits back on his heels and pulls Henry up into a sitting position. "What happened?"

Henry looks at his feet and signs, 'We tried hijacking the heist they planned. I think they were expecting us. They got the sapphire and Ellie got shot. Charles was with them.' Henry starts choling up and his signing becomes rougher. 'He won't come back. He shot Ellie. He shot us both. He's one of them now.'

Terrence lowers his head and runs his fingers through his hair at the news. "That's... I... I'm so sorry." After a second, he asks, "How is she? Your friend Ellie?"

Henry shrugs before signing, 'Getting better. We aren't talking right now.'

"You should," Terrence states matter-of-factly with a scowl. "She's the only friend you've got left and she's going through something that'd be easier to deal with with someone there for her."

Henry glares back. 'She's been through worse. And what do you know about being there for others?'

Terrence rolls his eye. "We're really getting into this right now? What did she even do? The clan took the sapphire and not her, right?"

At this, Henry nods, slowly and shamefully.

"Then quit being a baby and man up. Don't you two want to get your friend back?"

Henry doesn't respond for a second, after which he signs. 'What was your plan?'

Terrence's face stretches into a smile. "You might want to throw some clothes on and wake up your girlfriend."

Henry blanches at those words, but doesn't get anything out as Terrence leaves the room.

Nonetheless, he gets up and meets Terrence and Ellie outside, the latter using crutches because her leg isn't strong enough yet.

Remember, neither have talked since the night of the heist, so both are silent before Ellie asks, "So, um, who's this?"

"Terrence Suave," Terrence replies as he ahakes Ellie's hand. "Although he won't admit it, I'm Henry's father."

Ellie's eyes widen as she looks between the two. "Huh. I can see the resemblance."

Henry shakes his head and signs, 'Plan.'

Terrence gives Henry a withering look. "All work and no play, huh?" When neither Ellie or Henry answer back, Terrence sighs; we're done playing around now.

"You remeber that Wall place you were held at?"

"How hard is it to forget?" Ellie groans back.

Despite the unnecessary amount of salt, Terrence continues, "I have a friend there that has connections with the clan."

"As in he got arrested?"

"As in I sent him there to spy so I could plan a heist on the treasury. Guess Reg and Right forgot about him." He gives a chuckle and rubs the back if his head. "And you give me snark for leaving you," he says to Henry.

Henry glares at his father before the gears in his head start turning and he starts smiling.

'I think we need to pack our bags.'

Ellie joins him in this smiling, as does Terrence.

CUT TO THE WALL!!

It is a LONG trip to get to The Wall, and a long process of explaining that they're only there for visiting, not arrest.

It certainly didn't help that Dmitri and Grigori had CCC guards and Bill Bullet at The Wall.

At the sight of them, Terrence quickly rushes Ellie and Henry into a nearby office and locks the door behind them.

"What was-"

"Okay," Terrence says slowly and under his breath, "change of plan. We're not doing this."

Where Henry rolls his eyes, Ellie bristles.

"Why not?"

Terrence mumbles under his breath, but both Henry and Ellie hear him say something along the lines of, "I kinda escaped, and now everyone's sort of looking for me."

Ellie cuts in, "You didn't think they'd look there first?"

"Give me a break, Red," Terrence barks. "I figured they'd be looking somewhere else by the time we got here."

Henry slinks past them and cracks the door open enough to look out into the cafeteria.

No wonder they overthrew you.

Henry watches Dmitri and Bill continue talking, the latter nodding at the former's words. When Bill looks over Dmitri's shoulders, Henry slips back inside and shuts the door; there are now more eyes than ever.

"What do we do?"

Henry gulps and shrugs before leaning back.

Terrence, however, is busy looking at files on a computer, specifically looking through the inmates that were arrsted during the time of Infiltrating the Airship.

I know. Great team dynamic, right? Best team ever, 10/10.

"Good news, I found Reggie."

Both Ellie and Henry turn to Terrence, who is very proud that he used a computer after so long and having only one eye.

"Twelfth floor. Just four levels down. If we're careful, we can take the stairs."

Henry shakes his head and points up to a vent, not in the ceiling, but close to it, on the wall.

He begins signing, but Ellie only looks confused as Terrence shakes his head.

"Not a good idea. You can crawl through just fine, but what about me and Ellie? How are we supposed to crawl around with this-" He points to his cybernetic leg, "-and that?" He points to Ellie's injured leg.

"What's he saying?"

"Apparently, our only option is to crawl our way to Reg through the vents, which is going to be impossible."

Henry signs agian, more frustrated now.

"We can't afford to be safe at the moment, if you haven't noticed." Terrence shakes his head and stage whispers to Ellie, "Close minded, just like his mother/father". (YOU decide if Henry's other parental figure was a man or a woman; I know toxic masculinity states men can't have emotional breakdowns that lead their kids into growing kleptomaniac tendencies, but I say FUCK TOXIC MASCULINITY).

Back on track, the comment APPALLS Ellie and makes Henry raise a fist, ready to swing-

"HEY!"

All three turn as the guard bangs on the door.

"HEY! WHO'S IN THERE!? OPEN THE DOOR!"

With no more options, the three climb up into the vent, Terrence and Henry helping Ellie before Henry and Terrence climb in, just getting into and closing the vent as the guard, Dmitri, and Bill enter.

"Strange, I thought there was someone..."

As the guard trails off, Bill takes a look at the computer and then the vent as Dmitri yells at the guard; the warrant's reputation has suffered enough already with Henry's and Ellie's escape.

Ellie is wide eyed as she covers her mouth, Terrence is scooting backwards as slowly and quietly as he can, and Henry only stares back at Bill.

"Is there something wrong here, Corporal?"

Bill is silent as he and Henry continue to stare each other. Neither move or blink.

"No," Bullet says after a long couple of minutes. "Nothing at all."

Dmitri turns his heel and leaves the room with the guard following.

Bill takes a second, though, and closes the page Terrence was on.

With a wink and nod to Henry, he leaves the room and shuts the door behind him. "Don't be so hard on your guards, Dmitri. Rookies are allowed to make mistakes."

No one in the trio speaks for a little while, but Henry gives Ellie a smile. 'We're gonna be okay.'

With her leg still healing and his body being more than half metal, Henry is alone as he retrieves Reginald Copperbottom.

CUT TO OUR FRIEND, THE PREVIOUS TOPPAT CLAN LEADER HIMSELF!!!!

Currently, Reginald is lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling of his cell, bored and hungry because the guards lost track of time again.

To say living in The Wall was bad is an understatement. Honestly, Terrence has had it better than our boy Reginald because at least the CCC crew cared about Terrence's well being and mental state. (They don't want Terrence going insame and causing chaos.)

The time alone has also made him incredibly lonely and made him realize just how much he's taken for granted. Having colleagues doing stuff for and with you being one. Privacy is another.

Mostly, though, he misses Right, not having him AS his right hand man, but just having him around.

But he's gone.

He remimds himself of that a lot, but that doesn't stop his mind from wandering back to Right.

Henry kicks the vent open and bursts into the cell, throwing himself to his feet like a badass.

At the sight of the guy who got him arrested in the first place, Reginald presses himself against the wall, getting as small as he can; he has no weapons, no one to defend him, and it's only him and Henry in the room.

"Wait! WAIT! Don't-"

Before he can finish, Henry grabs him by the collar and points to the vent.

"What? What are you saying?"

Henry groans and rolls his eyes before writing on Reg's hand with his finger, like he does with Ellie.

'Want to get out of here and see the Right Hand Man again?'

Reginald is silent for a second, feeling the world stop for a second.

"He... He's-"

'He's alive, yes! And he has my friend Charles!'

Reginald purses his lip and pouts as he 'hmphs' and turns his head to the window. "I'd say it serves you right, given what you did to the clan and my right hand man."

Henry slaps him for that one.

'It doesn't matter now. Do you want to stay here or see him again?'

On the intercom, Grogori announces, "Attention, everyone. There are intruders here in The Wall. Keep an eye out and report to the warrant once you find and apprehend them."

It makes Henry pale and Reginald smirk.

"GUARDS-"

Henry smacks a hand over Reginald's mouth and writes, 'LAST CHANCE. I WILL LEAVE YOU HERE, IF YOU DON'T AGREE TO COME WITH ME RIGHT NOW.'

As guards run closer, Reginald looks between the door and Henry, who hasn't broken eye contact ONCE.

This is his only chance of freedom, and, regardless of who's offering it, it is something he is going to look over.

Reginald nods and replies, "Alright," behind Henry's hand.

Both are gone when the guards arrive.

Inside the vent, Reginald groans in disgust as he crawls. "When do you suppose these were last cleaned? Is there no regard for good conditions here?"

Henry groans again and punched the back of Reginald's thigh.

CUT TO OUTSIDE THE WALL!!!!!

Ellie and Terrence are sitting outside as guards run around like ants, simply watching as they have acquired a truck. (HURRAY!!)

"What's taking him?" Ellie ponders as she rests her head on the steering wheel. "I hope he didn't get caught."

"He'll be okay," Terrence replies, much to Ellie's surprise because of his earlier comment. "He's smart. Knows what he's doing." He turns to her, noting the slight bags under her eyes. "You two really care about each other, don't you?"

Ellie shrugs. "Well, yeah. Honestly, Henry and Charles... are the first real friends I've ever had." She sits up and tips her head as she smirks. "Ever tried having a game night with a heist partner?"

Terrence hisses and winces at that as he leans against the truck. "Try having a party with FIFTY of them. Don't know what got stolen from my room, but I never got it back."

Ellie chuckles. "Some loyal toppats."

Terrence can't help but snicker back. "Indeed."

Ellie's smile drops as she remembers what Henry told her, and the earlier comment. "Did you... Did you know about Henry before he visited you?"

"Of course I did," Terrence replies, more than a little offended at the question. "He's my son. Why wouldn't I?"

Ellie turns to the road they'll have to start driving on and rests her chin on the steering wheel. "He's just... confused on why you picked the clan over your family."

Terrence chews on his lip at that, more specifically the word Ellie used.

"He said you told him life is for living."

"I did," Terrence agrees. "Guess we have different opinions on what 'living' is."

Ellie nods, though she's more agreeing with Henry's 'living' than his father's.

"And I didn't pick the clan. I chose it."

Ellie scrunches her nose. "Same thing."

"Picking is what you do in an icecream shop when you want cookies cough or mint chocolate chip. Choosing is when you decide whether or not you want to be somewhere because it makes you or everyone happy. Picking is what you do in a shelter when you look for a cat or a dog. Choosing is figuring out what cat or dog you want to take home and take care of. Picking is me jumping form person to person just so I can get what I want from them, valuable stuff of any kind, money, skill, you name it. Choosing is me staying with what I see as having more value that I could use at any given time. Make sense?"

Ellie nods after a second. "Was it worth it?"

Terrence points to her leg. "Was that worth meeting Henry, Mrs. 'Living with many lives?'"

Ellie narrows his eyes, and Terrence holds up his hands.

"Easy, girl. No. It wasn't worth it. And I know because I chose wrong. I literally remind myself every day that I chose wrong. Won't change a thing, though." He turns to The Wall, watching the guards. "If he messes this up, it's all over."

SPEAK OF THE DEVIL!!!!!!

Henry and Reginald sprint towards the truck, Ellie and Terrence waving them over.

The sight of the cybernetic male halts Reginald in his steps.

"T-Terrence... Suave!?"

Terrence glares at Reginald and crosses his arms. "Hey, Reggie."

"Y-You... But, I-... You-eh..."

Henry taps them on their shoulders and points to the truck, signing, 'Save it for later! Let's go!'

Before Terrence or Ellie can ask why, the four hear motorcycles approach, Dmitri riding one as a passenger and aiming a gun at the truck they're commandeering.

Ellie starts the truck and gets it moving as Terrence skids into the shotgun seat as the truck picks up speed.

Soon, Henry and Reginald are both sprinting as fast as they can behind the truck with both doors open. Having had more training and in the time between FtC and this timeline of CtM, Henry can better keep up with the truck, but Reginald is falling behind fast. Henry grabs Reginald's hand and pushes the former leader into the back of the truck.

"Don't stop!" Henry shouts as he grabs a bit of leather or cord hanging off the truck's back door and pulls it down, closing it and surprising Reginald.

As the truck speeds away, Henry makes a turn and darts into the woods.

The motorcycles follow, however, though they're on a path and not through trees.

Henry is ducking, diving, and constantly zigzagging as he's being shot at while trying not to run into a tree. For a while, he does okay, good, even, only getting scraped by stray branches and grazed by bullets, one in particular hitting his cheek.

But we know all good things must come to and end.

Henry looks behind him when he doesn't hear motorcycles behind him, only to look in front of him and get a tree branch to the face, not enough to knock him out but he does see stars.

Dmitri gets off the motorcycle he's on and gestures for the others to stay where they are, circling Henry as he tries to stand up.

"I knew you were here the moment that guard found the office door locked. Clever of you." Dmitri kicks Henry in the ribs and sends him back into the ground. "But not clever enough."

Henry expects another kick when he gets on his hands and knees, but it doesn't come; a punch does when he manages to get on his feet, one right into his nose that sends him spiraling back to the ground.

Remember, Henry just ran for maybe ten or fifteen minutes and got hit in the face with a tree branch.

There would have to be a miracle for Henry to win this fight.

"How long has it been since you and the girl escaped? A year? Two years?"

"Not long enough," Henry groans to mostly himself.

Dmitri slams his boot onto the back of his head for that one, earning a wince from some of the guards.

"Sir," one asks, "shouldn't we hold him up in maximum security?"

Henry's brain kicks into hyperdrive, already showing him how he could possibly escape such a situation, but a hard stomp on his hand snaps him out of it, making him scream because with his mind living another life, his body went numb, like he didn't have those injuries or they healed. The stomp just make every injure ten times worse.

"You've all seen how slippery this one can be," Dmitri shouts, grinding the sle of his boot into Henry's hand. "He escaped before, he can do it again."

Henry tries pushing off Dmitri's boot as he suddenly realizes what's probably going to happen to him; normally he wouldn't be worried because we've seen him come back from getting shot, but with Bill Bullet around there's a chance they can make sure he dies and doesn't come back, with all the CCC lniws already about Terrence.

Dmitri notices this and drives a really hard kick into Henry's teeth, sending him backward before stomping on his face, ribs, and legs.

"You've ruined everything I've worked for since the day I saw you, Henry Stickmin!"

Dmitri kneels down and grabs the hair on either side of Henry's head, smashing him into the ground repeatedly as hard as he can.

Before you start thinking I'm being too unfair to Henry during this scene:

Henry swings possibly the best punch ever and knocks out some fake acrylic teeth Dmitri had to get put in. It catches tolhe warrant off guard, and gives Henry the opportunity to kick him away.

With some more punching, hair pulling, and head smashing, THE FIGHT BEGINS!!!

Even with a busted hand, Henry does okay, mostly relying on right hooks and kicks to fight. Dmitri, however, is able to use simple punches, jabs, and hooks to knock out Henry.

It's something like a stilted dance, as in there's a little bit of a pause before the next attack.

Bith men beat each other bloody, but it ultimately ends with Henry kneeing Dmitri in the side and kicking him back, AND DMITRI CHEATING BY HITTING HENRY WITH A ROCK. (NO FAIR, DMITRI! YELLOW CARD AND FIVE MINUTE PENALTY!!!)

When Henry's down this time, though, Dmitri wastes no time driving his knee into Henry's stomach and slapping his hands around Henry's neck. The action makes Henry gasp because of the sudden air loss, having the wind knocked out of him before getting his air cut off, and start thrashing around, gagging and making all those gross choking sounds that make your stomach flip.

"Look at you," Dmitri spits as Henry tries to break free, kicking the ground and scratching at Dmitri's wrists. "All you rats are the same, but it was you that did all this! You cost me everything! You made me lose everything!" Dmitri tightens his grip on Henry's throat, making Henry gasp loudly. "Allow me to return the favor!"

On the ground, Henry is very quickly blacking out and can feel it as he tries hitting Dmitri off of him.

His movements slow and his eyes roll back as his hand drops.

BANG!

Dmitri falls back as the guards take aim at where the shot came from.

More shots are fired, a some guards are taken down while the rest chase down the shooter, one ordered to take Dmitri back to The Wall.

Terrence climbs out of the trees and shakes his head at an unconscious Henry.

"Stupid, stupid idiot," he mumbles as he picks up Henry and slings him over his shoulders. "What were you thinking? What the hell were you thinking?"

Terrence walks through the trees as he carries Henry, silent all the way until he reaches the edge of the woods.

Bill Bullet stands waiting for him.

The two stare each other down, but Bill only stands with his hands in his pockets.

"You coming to take us back? We're a little busy right now."

"I can see that." Bullet sees Henry stir a little on Terrence's shoulders and fights the urge to smile; for someone who is so dangerous, he's so cute when he sleeps. "I guess genius over there has another plan?"

Terrence shakes his head. "It started off as my plan, but he had other ideas."

"Credit where credit's due."

After another silent stare down, Bill sighs and stands aside.

"He said he wanted his friend back safe before we brought him in. Better make this plan count."

Terrence nods as he seriously fights a smile and runs to where Ellie had left the truck, waiting for them both to get in so they can make like a banana and split.

[cheonsascenarios]

Can i request a LE smut a male reader in the studio ?

➜  Interference

Pairing: LE x Male reader

Request: Yes

Genre: Smut

——————————————❖———————————————

Finally, after months and months of applying to jobs, you landed one. Well, technically. Shinsadong Tiger was producing a new album and wanted some young blood assisting him. It was your chance to prove your worth.

Choosing your outfit was difficult. You wanted to dress properly, it was an important day. But on the other hand, you didn’t want to seem too uptight. You decided to go for a casual look: Jean, hoodie, jacket. Decent enough for an intern who was supposed to bring fresh ideas to the table. You got there early. You bought coffee for everyone coming. First impressions are always important. You scrolled through twitter to kill some time. An article caught your attention:

 -LE ALBUM IS AROUND THE CORNER! -

“After being out of the public eye for almost a year, LE is coming back with a new album. Shinsadong Tiger will be producing it and he assures it will be something that the fans have not seen before”

You kept scrolling but you didn’t read anything.

“Ah, I see. Yes, that must be it. They hired me because they want me to work on-”. A very sharp sound made you look away from your phone. It was coming your way. One after another they became louder, feeling like knives stabbing your heart. Suddenly, the sounds stopped. Now with its source revealed, so did your heart for a moment.

“...LE…”

Your guess was correct. Standing in front of you were Shinsadong Tiger, his assistant, and LE. The sound you heard before, came from her black heels. She looked intimidating. A black leather skirt, a black shirt, and a black leather jacket. Anyone else in that outfit would’ve looked just normal to you, but there was something imposing about her.

“Ah, y/n, you shouldn’t have bothered! I appreciate it anyways!”. Still dumbfounded you tried to respond asking what did he meant, but then you realized. The coffee. You didn’t know LE was going to be there, so you just bought 3 cups. The panic caused by that comment must’ve been showing in your face because while going into the studio LE said: “I don’t want coffee”.

Great. It was obvious she noticed what actually happened and felt insulted. You had to come up with something to either fix the situation or make it seem like you actually bought coffee for her. Lost in your thoughts you didn’t see Shinsadong and his assistant following LE. After getting back to your senses, you also followed them.

“Um, I didn’t get to present myself earlier, I’m-”

“Okay, listen. I just got back from a shoot, I’m really tired and some new producer rubbed me the wrong way. Let’s just do what we came here for and go home”

“I’m really sorry. Look, it’s my first day and I wanted to make a good impression. No one told me you were coming. Had I known beforehand, I wouldn’t have come across as such a rude person”

“I guess you have a point. I was supposed to go home but I wanted to finish this song. Whatever. Let’s move on”. 

She offered you a handshake which you gladly took. She looked you in the eyes. She seemed curious about something. Before letting go your hand she smiled while slightly nodding. She turned around and went into the booth. You were confused as to why she did that but decided not to worry about it after having dodged such a bullet.

“So, this is what we are going to do. LE is going to go through some verses and I want you to do whatever you feel fits those bars better. Got it?” Shinsadong Tiger calmly explained to you how the process should be.

“Yes! No problem!”. After receiving the task, you sat down in front of the booth glass. On the other side, LE sat down in front of the mic. It wasn’t a big studio so it seemed like you were sat across the sides of a table. Through the glass, you could only see LE upper body. You put on your headphones and started listening to LE going through her lines. Shinsadong was sitting at the back on the couch with his assistant, talking about something you couldn’t quite figure out. While going through some files in your notebook, LE voice sounded in your ears:

“You know, we may be cool now but I’m still a little upset. I don’t like being upset. So, we are playing a game. This is your first day, right? I know you really want this and for it to work you need to make a good job. It’ll be a pity if the recording seems unpolished”. This whole time, she seemed just to be reading her lyrics. Her eyes didn’t move from her notebook page. Needless to say you didn’t know what she meant.

“Um guys, something came up. I gotta go. Send me the track, I’ll check it tonight”. Shinsadong left the studio. 

“Okay, let’s go from the top”. You said to LE. When looking up you saw her staring directly at you. A devilish smile was printed on her face. Confused and a little scared, you played the instrumental.

“Uh, nights got colder after you lef-”. Something was off. You asked LE to stop and so she did. There was some noise going around and you couldn’t find out what was it. After checking everything you found nothing. Still wondering what was that sound, you asked LE to continue. 

“Uh, nights got colder after you left, why is it th-” There it was again. But this time it kept going. It sounded like some sort of interference but louder than it usually is. Looking around to see what could possibly be the cause of it, you found it in the last place you thought you would. 

You looked up and LE was biting her lip. You followed her arm and noticed that it disappeared under her skirt. She was touching herself. What you thought was “interference”, was actually LE clothes’s sound. 

“Oh my God. What are you doing!?

“I told you we were playing a game”

“Are you for real!?

“Hey, it’s not me who needs the job. If you want to have a song by tonight, you better take out all the sounds I’m making”

“You know this is crazy, right?”

“I do. That’s the fun part” She giggled at the end.

“Fine. Wanna play? Let’s play”

You started the recording once again and while she rapped, you tweaked filters in order to take out the sound LE’s hand and her clothes were making. After 15 seconds you stopped her and smiled: “See? I’m that good.” That was your mistake.

Taking it as a challenge, LE stood up and unzipped her skirt. She threw it somewhere on the floor. Sat down, resting her feet on the lower chair support and spread her legs. She put her hand under her red underwear and pulled it aside.  You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. A glass was the only thing that separated you from such a spectacle. Wearing headphones made it all worse because it felt as if she was in your head. 

“Let’s see what you can do with this” LE challenged you. Her fingers went up and down her slit. You could tell how wet she was by the sounds she made when moving. Just to see such a view was enough to make you hard. Listening to the sound her indecent act was making, turned it into torture.

“What is it? You can’t handle this?” LE's voice got breathier.

“No. It isn’t that. I just thought how funny it would be to let those beautiful sounds in. To let everyone know how much of a slut you are”

“Too bad you’ll have no job by then”

Even if you hate to admit it, she was right. You needed this to work. Fixed on making a track that you could send your boss, you sat down once again but responded with an equally powerful attack.

“WHAT ARE Y-” LE yelled.

You took your cock out. You were already rock hard. You stroked it releasing a suffocated growl. “If I’m doing this, I might as well make it fun for myself”.

LE was shocked. But not in a bad way. Her facial expressions told you she just got more aroused. Also, her hand movements became less sporadic and now focused on a single spot. Her panting started to mist the booth’s glass. It made you move your hand faster, matching her pace.

“From the top”. You pressed play, and the red light turned on. LE started rapping and her voice was troubled by her moaning and heavy breathing. You stood up and went into the booth. Once inside you positioned yourself in front of her and without stopping your movements you told her:

“Faster. I need you to go faster”. LE did so. Not only in her now lousy rap but in her motions as well. The little circles her hands were doing were now really small, applying all the pressure on her clit. Her eyes now only looking at yours expressed how far gone she was. You ripped her shirt open, buttons flying all over the floor. 

“Yes, that’s it. Give me your all” You groaned while you commanded her hand and yours to squeeze her breast. Close to your limit, agitated, you told her: 

“Now, for the climax… I need you to go in, go in on it”. 

Clenching her jaw, alternating her sentence with strong exhalations, LE responded: ”You are the producer... take care of it”.

As soon as she spoke those words, in a single action you went into her. Her walls were so hot you seemed to melt inside her. You’d never fucked a pussy so sloppy. Things got messier with every thrust. The sounds you heard earlier were nothing against the sound of you ramming her over and over.

“Fuck” LE shouted. She tightened around you as her whole body clenched. Her head tilted backward, making her chest look even bigger than before. As you felt this, you also let yourself go and released your hot load inside her. You only stopped moving once you got it all out. When backing out, your cum leaked out of LE’s glistened entrance.

Slowly recovering and reincorporating herself onto the chair, LE said while sighing:

“Guess you can’t work on that one. Am I right Producer?”

“Maybe next take will be better… unless you feel like not cooperating again”

“Who knows… I may still need instructions”

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

Mon 20 May

Location location location- did you know the town hall where the Two Of Us video was filmed was the venue where Queen played their first show? Amazing! Were you wondering why Harry was wandering around Hollywood Blvd amongst the tourists? I don't claim to know, but I will tell you that he was apparently right outside the hotel Lottie and Lou Teasdale had just checked into that day... Did you know who else is in L.A.? That I do know, it's Louis!

But let's back up a bit. Harry content is absolutely off the charts so let's start at the beginning. First we got a video of Harry looking really confused on Hollywood Blvd from the evening of the 18th when a routine photo op takes a turn and the fan does a fancy hat trick (no like with an actual hat). Some of Harry's confusion may stem from being baked af if my eyes don't deceive me but he might just be tired from getting too much sun, whatever the reason it's all charmingly awkward. Then we got SO MANY pap pics of Harry frolicking on the beach in Malibu looking like he just won the xiallympics a carefree dork, bless, (on the 18th) in little yellow shorts tucked up cause they were idk not short enough I guess (Outdoor Voices, such a multitasker), a tie-dye t-shirt with unicorns rubbing their horns together, wild curls and a big smile. There are dogs! New tattoos!* Frisbees! Footballs! Beanbags! (Apparently this is a game called CORNHOLE about which I have NO COMMENT but I bet Harry had plenty of comments) ANYWAY he's with the Gerbers and Azoffs and getting papped and wearing promotional gear, but regardless it looks like he's having a blast so I'm glad for him, that's the way to fold in business with fun. Those pics were released today and then about an hour later the new Gucci campaign pics dropped and talk about the duality of Harry Styles, you could get whiplash looking from that goofy beach muppet to aesthetic fashion king Harry draped in velvet declaiming dramatically and brandishing taxidermy geese while smoldering away. The bandana and casual hair kind of show the cracks in his Serious facade though, maybe he should get some modeling tips from Niall. (JK I think he knows we like it better when it's a little bit him in there too.) In any case, something he's doing is definitely working; HS1 is back on the charts, re-entering the Billboard top 200 at #111.

*New tattoos: Writing on his legs, not definitively visible but it looks like one says California in script and there's speculation about the knee tats but it's not certain, but there are definitely four and not two as previously thought so can we please lay the theories about the si and no to rest now? those were embarrassing.

More Louis interview content today via ODE! He talks about how important the fans are to him, about thinking about them and about including them in every step of the process. He says, "other people... do it different, they go for more of the aspirational outlook but for me I want... me to feel like one of them, like we are doing it together as a team. It's important to me" and says again how in awe of the fans he is, that we are "grafters" and that "it's like they work hard to be amazing fans." As mentioned above, he also took a fan pic yesterday in L.A.

Huse Monfaradi, who is loving the (well deserved) attention to his work and making up for all those videos we know nothing about the people or process behind, talks about the making of the TOU video and tells us that the concept was Louis', but that he chose the location.

Liam posted THREE (3!) studio pics with the caption, 'if you scroll right far enough you'll almost see new music' EXCUSE ME is that meant to be funny?! Listen pal people wanna know what the heck is going on you're just teasing! Rude. Anyway super cute happy pics though, taken by Conor Butler, who, if you were wondering (as I was), is the person who makes the little movies for Liam, and takes his pics, and travels around and hangs out with him.

The Zayn and Zhavia version of A Whole New World is not on the Billboard 100 chart but made the Bubbling Under chart which "ranks the Top 25 songs that have yet to appear on the actual Hot 100" which you would think would just mean numbers 101-125 but they factor in streaming, among other things.

Niall registered three new songs, Let Me Introduce You, Nice To Meet You, and Take Me Back. Sounds like a storyline, dare I hope for a musical?? (Answer, no). Ruth Anne Cunningham and Julian Bunetta are cowriters on two. He also swooned over a fancy golf course where he's scheduled to play in a tournament next year and a golf podcast interview with him came out.

[honeyedhoseok]

Don’t You Need Me?

Genre | Angst, Taehyung x Female reader, friends->lovers->friends? au

Word Count | 9.6K

Summary | “Send me back in time, to those nights when we had it all / Will this come out right?” Set 1 year into Y/N and Hongbins relationship; You and Taehyung timidly rekindle your friendship online and then in person when Taehyung moves less than fifteen minutes away–which leads to dinner, wine and a sensual moment that was never supposed to happen. 

Warnings | Language, slight smut (dry humping), mentions of weed and alcohol

A/N | Here’s the next part of The V2 Series, a flashback that details the first time Y/N and Taehyung ever hooked up after breaking up in high school. Thanks @sleevelessparkjimin for being my plot coordinator & helping me soooo much with this, you’re the best :* Enjoy! <3

— Set 1 year into your relationship with Hongbin —

You stare at the blinking cursor on your screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard of your laptop, stomach twisted in nervousness. The feeling either stems from the venti caramel macchiato that you just chugged on an empty stomach—which has been known to leave you anxious and trembling on more than one occasion—or, more accurately, it may have something to do with the decision you are currently contemplating.

Your eyes graze over the home screen of your Facebook, where you stopped scrolling in awe at a status update from a former . . . friend.

Kim Taehyung is feeling accomplished—with Kim Eon Jin and 2 others.  

Underneath is a picture of Taehyung in a graduation cap, his parents flanking him on either side mirroring his signature smile with ones of their own. Taehyung had a reason to feel proud—in high school he’d sworn he wasn’t going to go to college; he’d said it wasn’t for him, it was for people who had done better than him and who actually had a chance at surviving two more years of education.

Like you, he’d said. You’re smart. You should definitely go back to school, baby.  

The nickname echoes in your head. You can still hear the soft tone of it, the way sometimes he’d caress your cheek when he said it, the way he’d whine the word when he wanted you to get off the couch and get him something to drink because he didn’t want to miss a minute of the game, the way he’d make it come out of your own mouth in a more wanton way when you two were—

This, you think, is why after you break up with someone, you should delete them from all social media. And if you were at all smart like Taehyung thought you were, you would have done it a long time ago. Because then you wouldn’t be thinking of sending a congratulatory message to a person you hadn’t spoken to in over two years.

It could be simple, right? Just a “congrats,” nothing else. That wouldn’t hurt anything, would it?

Your fingers jump over the keyboard, itching to write the message and get it over with, so you place your hands under your legs. You glance around at the Starbucks cafe, trying to catch any suspicious eyes averting to yours, wondering why you are concentrating so hard on the tiny screen of your computer.

When your gaze is unmet, you look back at the screen, at that god damn blinking cursor that is mocking you in the comment section of Taehyung’s status. Why were you so scared? Two years was a lot of time to mature—and if you did it in a mature, nonchalant way, Taehyung would also take it as a mature compliment . . . right?

But then, who all would be able to see it? Everything that you commented on or liked on Facebook and any other social media always ended up on your friends timelines. A public comment wasn’t a good idea. A DM, instead? Or was that too personal? Too closed off? Too secret?

You groan outwardly, leaning back in your seat. A woman to your right reading a novel at a small table glances over at you, but doesn’t say anything.

“This is stupid,” you murmur to yourself quietly. “Just do it!”

You quickly pull up your chat and type Taehyung’s name into a new box and start your message:

Hey, congrats on graduating

Too brief. Do it again.

Hey, an Associates! That’s awesome! Always knew you would get there one day. Remember in high school when

Too long-winded. And too fucking happy. Again.

Hey, uh, just wanted to say congrats on the achievement

“UH”? Were you a bumbling moron?

Hey, long time no talk

You pause, biting your lip. That was casual, right?

Hey, long time no talk. Just wanted to congratulate you on getting your degree, and I hope you’ve been doing well :)

You let out a long breath of air from your nose, reading the two lines over and over again until you finally hit ‘Send,’ and close out of the app as quickly as you can. You close the lid of your laptop too, realizing for the first time that your heart is beating rapidly in your chest, pulse singing in your veins. It feels good, but you’re worried it won’t last long. What if he didn’t even answer back?

You don’t give yourself much time to dwell. You pack up your things, throwing away your empty venti cup in the trash can beside the door as you exit the cafe. You decide to give it twenty-four hours before you check to see if he read it, just to save yourself from disappointment and from looking over-eager to reply to him—if he decided to reply .

But Taehyung doesn’t care about either of those things, obviously, because as soon as you are settled into the front seat of your car, your phone buzzes with a message:

Y/N! Thanks so much. I never thought I’d get there, honestly. & it HAS been such a long time . . . how are you?

— 1 month later —

“Can you pause it?” you ask Yeonwoo. “I have to pee.”

She rolls her eyes. “This is like the third time!” she groans, but pulls the remote from underneath her blanket and hits pause. “We’re never going to finish the HP series at this point.”

You two were having a movie marathon during a dreary Saturday—as the movie paused, you could hear rain splatter heavily against the windows in the living room—and Yeonwoo had insisted you start the Harry Potter series from her favorite, The Goblet of Fire. You were actually a fan of The Prisoner of Azkaban, but when you suggested watching it first, Yeonwoo had acted like she hadn’t heard you.

“It’s the margaritas!” you yell, already halfway down the hallway to your bedroom. “Stop judging me!”

As you round the corner into your bedroom, you whip out your phone from your hoodie pocket, tapping twice on the screen to make it light up.

The first message you have is from Hongbin, an email sent thirty minutes ago:

I have a meeting tonight after work. I’m sorry I keep cancelling our anniversary dinner, but I promise I’ll make it up to you.

-Hongbin

He wasn’t allowed on his phone during work hours, so he’d resorted in the last few months to a distant, formal mode of communication that the computer on his desktop would allow him. You hated it, mostly because a message from work meant the inevitable—Hongbin was telling you he was getting off late and/or cancelling plans. Today it was both.

You use the bathroom and wash your hands, drying them off on a towel next to you before picking your phone back up. You bite your lip, reading over the message once more. Your anniversary was three weekends ago, and Hongbin and you still weren’t able to celebrate because of his demanding schedule. You just wanted some time with him, but Hongbin insisted on getting dolled up and taking you out—which led to reservations and a special time allotted that he, in turn, kept being unable to make.   

You sigh. There’s nothing you can do—sending back a biting remark or getting mad would do nothing. Hongbin was working hard at his firm, determined to climb the ladder after his father. Who were you to complain about that process? He had drive, ambition, goals—and what did that matter in the face of his girlfriend wanting to spend a little time with him after a year of dating?

As you exit out of the email app, your phone vibrates in your hand, alerting a new message in a private Facebook chat. You click it open, revealing a smiling picture of Taehyung standing beside a road sign—one that you recognize well. Underneath the caption reads:

Guess who has two thumbs and just moved all their shit into an apartment here?

You break out into a grin instantly, fingers flying over the keyboard.

Shut UP! No fucking way! You got the job at the library???

Taehyung is typing . . .

Duh! Those fuckers want me to start Monday

I don’t have a bed frame or a comforter

My mattress is sitting on the floor with just a navy fitted sheet on it

You breathe out an airy laugh before sending your response.

Lmaooooo, poor kid

Congrats tho

That was so quick, you’re insane

It was too good of an opportunity to pass up!!

& thnx :) How’s your day going?

“Y/N, this century, please!” Yeonwoo yells from the living room. “Jesus.”

You send a quick movie marathon w/ Yeonwoo. Harry potter to Taehyung before tucking your phone back into your hoodie and walking back to the living room. You fall back on the couch, bundling up with your blanket and margarita glass.

“Sorry,” you say, giving her a smile. “Press play!”

Hongbin 9:36pm

Just getting home. I’m so tired

You roll your eyes at the message, throwing your phone back down onto your bed. You were cuddled up in a blanket, catching up on shows on your DVR while Yeonwoo was getting dressed for a night downtown. It was still raining, so you’d decided to stay in—but your roommate obviously didn’t care about her hair or herself getting wet whatsoever as she stepped into your room donning a short, black skirt.

“Is this cute?” she asks, turning around in a circle. “Maybe with a jean jacket or something?”

You nod. “What about that rugged one you just got from the thrift store a few days ago?”

She disappears again, some rustling coming from her room as she searches. “Are you sure you don’t want to go?” she calls. “We can pick one place and stay there, so we don’t get soaked!”

“I’m fine,” you say back, eyes trained on the TV. “I’m not really feeling it, just gonna watch some shows or something.”

Yeonwoo comes back into your room a few moments later, hair curled in pretty, loose ringlets and outfit complete with a skirt, floral top, jean jacket and boots. 

“Good?” she asks.

“Cute,” you say. “You leaving now?”

“Yeah, I just called the Uber. I’ll let you know when I’m on the way home, okay?”

You nod, listening to the sound of her boots clunking down the hallway before the front door opens and closes. You sigh. You probably should have went with her, knowing how she gets, but you hope that for once she can handle herself without you. Or that one of her friends is playing the “mom” card for the night. You wanted to sulk for a little bit; if your boyfriend was going to cancel plans, you might as well sit inside and do nothing and it be completely his fault.

You settle back into your blankets, trying to refocus on your show when your phone vibrates again by your thigh. You’re thinking it’s Yeonwoo, saying she forgot to lock the front door, or Hongbin, wondering why you haven’t responded to his earlier messages—but it’s neither.

Video Call from Kim Taehyung…

You stare at the screen, bewildered. Looking back at you is the reflection of someone who should not be seen in video form—but you find yourself hitting the ‘Accept’ button, anyways. Taehyung and you don’t video chat, so this is new.

Taehyung’s face fills the screen immediately, and your heart jumps at the sight. He’s wearing a dark beanie, his ashy blonde locks sticking out from the front and sides a little. In an awkward silence, he blinks twice into the camera, making sure he isn’t frozen from his side of the connection.

“Y/N?” he says with caution, and your breath hitches quietly at the sound of your name coming out of his mouth after so long.

Of course, with you and Taehyung having reconnected on social media a month ago, you’d done your fair share of stalking his profile—looking at pictures, status updates, his tagged content—but seeing his face on the screen of your phone was something else entirely. You find yourself speechless.

His eyes, pretty and brown, search the camera unsurely.

“Are you frozen?” he asks again, shifting in his seat. “Hello?”

You finally break out of your trance, opening your mouth and shaking your head a little. “Hi,” you say quietly, watching Taehyung’s face brighten at the sound of your voice.

“Hey!” he says, grinning. “We had a bad connection for a minute, there.”

“Yeah.” You laugh lowly, nervously. “The internet here sucks, sometimes.”

  “Yeah, same.” He moves around with his phone in his hand, placing the camera lower so that you get more of his chin and neck, the strong line of his jaw. In the background, you see plain white walls and kitchen cabinets, making you realize where he is, finally.

“Is this your new place?” you ask, sitting up in bed. “Let me see.”

“Yep!” He taps his screen twice, turning the camera around to the kitchen.

It’s a small, cozy room with dark granite counters and white walls, giving it a modern feel. Taehyung gets up from his seat and walks into the living room, giving you the tour. A small, dark couch sits against one wall with a ton of boxes surrounding it.

“I haven’t gotten much done,” he says, laughing nervously. “Moving by yourself is so hard. I had no idea.”

“You did everything alone?” you ask. “Your parents didn’t help?”

He doesn’t answer, moving past the living room to his bedroom, which is exactly like he explained earlier with a single mattress sitting against one wall, a night stand placed beside it and a desk on an adjacent wall.

“I was thinking of putting my bed in this corner,” he explains, “then it wouldn’t be up against that window and I’d have some space to do stuff in the middle.”

“Like what?” you tease. “Dance?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Taehyung says, laughing. He taps the screen again so the camera is back on his face, and your stomach clenches at how he prettily smiles into the camera. “You never know what can happen at casa de Taehyung.”

You roll your eyes, which only makes his smile grow brighter.

“But yeah, my parents helped me move the big stuff and then they left.” He frowns. “Now I have to unpack everything before I work on Monday.”

You shrug. “Well, you don’t have to. But I guess that would make the most sense, huh?”

“Yep.” He sighs. “Oh! I have a reason for this phone call that I keep forgetting to ask you.”

A little part of you feels relieved. It felt odd but good talking to Taehyung, but you were beginning to wonder why he’d chosen videoing instead of a text or phone call—either way, you were happy he was taking your mind off of other things for the time being.

You watch him walk back through his apartment to the kitchen, where he turns the camera on a bouquet of flowers sitting on the table.

“How do I keep these alive?” he asks. “Someone gave them to me as a housewarming gift—don’t ask why, I have no idea. I mean, seriously,” he turns the camera back on himself, quirking a thick eyebrow, “do I look like a flowers kind of guy?”

You giggle. “I mean, maybe?” you say. “Remember in high school when Mina asked you to prom? She went all out with it, too! She got someone to record it and she brought you flowers—”

“And I had to gently let her down because I’d just asked you out a week earlier?” he finishes for you, cringing at the thought. “God, that was terrible.”

“Hey, I told you to go with her!” you counter, laughing. “I didn’t care about prom whatsoever, but you made me go anyways.”

Taehyung shrugs, giving you a soft smile. “But you were so pretty in your dress, so I don’t wanna hear it.”

Your next laugh dies in your throat, but you manage a smile at Taehyung’s compliment. You two are quiet for a beat, eyes focused on each other in the camera lens as you relive the moment in your memories.

“The flowers need a vase,” you say, finally. “Do you have one?”

Taehyung cocks his head to the side. “If I’m not a flower guy, why the hell would I have a vase handy?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes again at his ever-present sarcasm. “Shut up.”

“Should I put them by the window?” he asks, getting up from his chair. “In the morning, they can—”

“No!” you say, a little louder than you mean to. Taehyung freezes on your screen. “I mean, direct sunlight will make them wilt faster. Don’t you know anything?”

“I know you’re being very unhelpful to my situation,” he says, tsking. “Do you have a vase?”

“Yeah?”

“Then bring it to me.”

You pause, feeling your heartbeat increase as you ponder the offer. Bring it to him? As in to his house? As in seeing each other for the first time in two years?

“Oh, uh—yeah,” you stutter, eyebrows furrowing. “I guess I could. I mean, you said you needed help unpacking . . . before Monday . . . right?”

Taehyung nods, keeping his expression even. “I’ll make it worth your while—I can make us lunch or dinner or something. Whenever you’re free to help tomorrow.”

You’re still quiet, so he tacks on: “Don’t feel like you have to or anything!”

“No, no.” You shake your head. “Sunday is good.” Hongbin was going on a golfing trip with some coworkers and Yeonwoo would be passed out until the afternoon time. “I can come, and I’ll bring you a vase.”

You’re glad you agreed, because the way Taehyung’s face brightens—a wide smile splitting his face—makes you feel like you’d do anything to see it happen more often.

“Great,” he says. Then he sighs, and looks past the camera around at his apartment. “Well, I’m going to try to get some stuff done in the kitchen tonight so we have somewhere to eat tomorrow.”  His eyes meet yours once more: twinkling, hopeful, a little mischievous, but that’s just Taehyung. “I’ll see you then?”

“Yeah,” you hear yourself say, “See you then.”

His voice is a soft hum to your ears, “Goodnight, Y/N,” right before he disconnects the call.

The screen goes back to Facebook, and you stare at it for a little while, relishing in the excited rush flowing through your veins, at the familiarity of it all, at one thought turning over in your brain for the rest of the night: you were going to see Taehyung tomorrow.

You tell Taehyung you won’t be headed over to his place until after lunchtime, but your excited nerves have you awake at eight. You stare at the ceiling fan rotating in the center of your bedroom for a while, watching a single blade spin while your mind reels similarly until you feel dizzy and have to close your eyes again. It was just Taehyung, and you were just doing him a favor. So why did it feel like you were keeping a secret?

After watching a little TV in the comfort of your bed, you get up and take a shower, going through your normal routine at a leisurely pace to help waste some time. You grab a granola bar off your desk and eat it while you pick out an outfit. When you finally step out of your room and into the living room, you’re surprised to see Yeonwoo stretched out on the couch, a white sheet mask covering her face as she watches TV.

“Hangover?” you comment, snickering. “You’re up early.”

“So are you,” she snaps back, but her usual biting remark is softened by the stiffness of her mouth as she tries not to move too much and disturb the mask. “Where you going?”

You decide to tell the truth, seeing if it helps ease the building anxiety in your stomach. And to cover your tracks for later, whatever later was. “I’m helping an old friend move into their apartment.”

Yeonwoo sits up, eyeing your outfit—a pair of plain jeans, a crew neck sweater and sneakers. When she’s satisfied with your believable clothes, she relaxes, shrugging her shoulders. “Sounds like a shitty way to spend a Sunday, but okay. Have fun.”

You laugh with her, trying to sneak out of the house without any further questions. Just as you open the door, she hits you with another: “What’s with the vase?”

“Housewarming gift!” you quip, stepping outside. “Bye!”

You realize on the way over that you’re making a mistake.

You should have told Hongbin. You weren’t just going to help an old friend, you were going to help an old ex. A person who, foolishly, in high school, you thought you were going to spend a good portion—if not the rest—of your life with.

You look down at the housewarming gift in the passenger seat of your car: a bottle of white Riesling with a gold bow around it, and your stomach twists in nausea. As the GPS directs you to make a u-turn because you just missed the exit to Taehyung’s house, you find yourself pulling off onto the side of the road.

Hongbin answers on the fifth ring.

“Hey,” you say timidly, biting your lip for a second. “I just wanted to call you—I’m like, I don’t even know what I’m doing right now—”

A roar of laughter erupts in your ear, cutting you off. You hear Hongbin excusing himself and some rustling before he finally addresses you. “Y/N, hey,” he says, rushed. “What’s up? I told you I was busy today with work.”

It’s a response so fucking typical of him you can’t even give him the satisfaction of getting mad. Here you are, trying to give him some insight on your worries and he’s too busy chasing a promotion to care.

“Seriously? You’re not at work, Hongbin,” you remind him sourly. “You’re on a golfing trip kissing ass.”

“And if we ever expect to move in together, I’m going to have to get back to kissing said ass, Y/N,” he snaps back just as easily. “I’ve got to go.”

“Fine. Forget it. Bye.”

You hit end on the call and throw your phone down in the seat next to you, listening to the harsh sound of it smacking against glass. You wince, and although you don’t want to, you glance down to make sure you haven’t broken the two gifts beside you.

Taehyung. Your annoyance at Hongbin drains and nervousness replaces it—but it’s a feeling you’d rather have a thousand times over than one of neglect. So you put the car back into drive, make the designated u-turn the GPS is telling you to, and get back on the road to Taehyung’s house.

Which building/room?

Taehyung is typing . . .

1100/425!

You grab the wine in one hand and the vase in the other, making the short walk from the parking lot to the building lobby. You take a deep breath as you step into the elevator, letting it fill your chest, lungs, stomach, and letting it out through your nose only when the shaft lurches to a halt. A ding sounds as the elevator stops on the fourth floor, and all too quickly you are standing in front of room 425.

With your heartbeat pounding against your rib cage, you rap your knuckles softly on the surface. You hear heavy footsteps and clicks of the lock, and then Taehyung is swinging the door open, his face full of delight to see you standing on the other side.

He’s traded the beanie and sweater from yesterday for freshly washed hair that sits in voluminous, messy pieces on his forehead, a grey zip up hoodie, and black sweats. He looks so reminiscent of times when you two were in high school hanging out at his house that you feel relieved—if anything, he was still the Taehyung that loved to be in baggy, comfortable clothes.  

“You made it!” he says, grinning. “And you brought the vase!”

He steps back and gestures for you to come inside, which you do, cautiously. You glance at the floor, following his bare feet into the kitchen, watching as they come to a stop in front of the oven.

You set the vase down on the table, still gripping the wine awkwardly in your left hand. “I um—brought this, for you,” you say, holding the bottle out towards him. “Hope you still like sweet white.”

Taehyung smiles softly, taking the gift from you. “Of course I do. Maybe we can crack it open after dinner.”

You nod, and the space between you two falls into an uncomfortable silence. Taehyung tries to make it not as obvious that he’s taking you in—eyes trailing from your head to your toes and back again, taking note of all the changes—but you can feel his gaze on you even as you look away, bringing an embarrassing heat to your already warm face.

You clear your throat. “How much did you get done last night?”

Taehyung seems to remember why you are there, finally, pushing off his relaxed stance against the counters and walking into the living room.

“The kitchen is pretty finished, I think,” he says. “But there are so many boxes in the living room that need to be unpacked.”

Your eyes trail over the ones stacked on top of each other on the couch, blocking any and all possible ways of relaxing in front of the flat screen TV already perched on an entertainment stand.

You sigh. “Well, let’s start with those, then.”

You two fall back into your old rhythm quickly. You’re grateful for this, because the first thirty minutes are spent quietly unpacking, neither of you being sure what to say to the other until Taehyung finally starts talking about his library interview.

You catch back up on what each other have been up two since high school: you, working full time and just recently deciding to go back to school, and Taehyung, living with his parents while he took day classes and saved up money to move out. In two years time, both of you have grown up so much; but also not, by the way you still reminisce about the past, teasing each other about old embarrassments and times together.

Taehyung has matured. He has hardened in places—the line of his jaw and playful glint in his eyes both sharper, body filled out and lean underneath the thin t-shirt that you see after he sheds his hoodie, voice sultry and deep, an air of confidence that follows his movements that you aren’t used to seeing. You wonder what changed him, but you’re fine with whatever it was because this is a good look for him.

“We’re so stupid for moving out so early,” he says later, flopping back on the now-cleared couch. His face glows with a radiant warmth, his hairline a little sweaty from moving furniture around in the living room. You’d offered to help but you couldn’t lift much—and Taehyung had insisted he could do it by himself.

“Hey, Yeonwoo and I are doing just fine,” you counter, frowning. You take a seat on the opposite end of the couch, pulling your legs underneath you. “You should have gotten a roommate. It would make everything easier.”

“I don’t want to live with anyone, though,” he replies.

“Why?”

He shrugs. “It’s hard.”

“So is paying rent by yourself,” you add, laughing. “I think you’re hard to get along with, and that’s why you don’t want a roommate.”

Taehyung raises a questioning eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Explain.”

“Well for starters,” you begin ticking each point off on your fingers, “everything has to be neat and tidy. You hate mess.”

“This is true. Go on.”

“And,” you add another finger, “You survive off of coffee and chicken wraps like a weirdo, so a roommate would starve going grocery shopping with you.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, but lets you have that one. “Mhm, and?”

“And, you smoke. Not everyone likes that.”

Taehyung smiles, knowing he has the one-up on you. “That, my dear, is where you’re wrong,” he says. “I quit.”

You sit up a little. “What? For real?”

“It’s too expensive,” he says. “I do something a little cheaper, now.”

“Cigarettes?” you say, unable to hide the disgust in your tone.

Taehyung reaches in the pocket of his hoodie thrown over the back of the couch. “Cigars,” he says, brandishing a rectangular box.

You furrow your brows. “But you used to smoke these before.”

“And now they’re weed-less,” he counters, giving you an impish grin. “Here, smell.”

He takes one out and hands it to you. It’s skinny—not the giant ones that mob bosses smoke in movies—and you bring it to your nose with caution. On the inhale, your senses are flooded with a sweet, smoky smell, something reminiscent of fruit and maybe, firewood.

You hand it back to him and he digs around in his pocket for a lighter. You reach for the box instead. “Summer blend?” you read.

“Yeah, they’re pretty good.”

He lights it up, takes a long inhale. You watch the tip glow red, watch the way Taehyung’s mouth purses around the end before he blows out a continuous exhale of smoke. Even though you’re on the other end of the couch, the smell hits you immediately and you realize it’s one that has been floating in the air since you got there. Earlier, when Taehyung brushed past you to get another box you would smell it, and you thought it was just the scent of his deodorant or body wash. Somehow, knowing it comes from a cigar makes it more enticing, and you watch curiously as Taehyung takes another slow drag.

His eyes meet yours through the skinny smoke hovering in the air and he raises an eyebrow. “Want to try?”

You feel yourself reaching for it before you’ve entirely made up your mind. You smoked a cigarette, once. You hated it. But that wasn’t with Taehyung watching you intently from the end of the couch, so you find yourself more inclined to like cigars as you bring the plastic tip to your mouth.

You cough a little on the exhale, but otherwise it doesn’t feel like anything. You find yourself wishing for something a little stronger, and your eyes drift to the unopened bottle of wine on the table as you hand the cigar back to Taehyung. His eyebrows raise questioningly at you, but otherwise he doesn’t say anything.

You gesture to the kitchen. “What’s for dinner?” You pause. “Or late lunch, rather?”

Taehyung scratches the back of his neck lazily. “Umm—”

“You didn’t buy anything, did you?” you guess with a sigh. “So typical of a chicken-wrap-and-coffee guy.”

“What? No.” He laughs. “I said I was going to cook for you but it’s going to take a second. Is that okay?”

“Oh.” You perk back up. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Great.” He gives you a smirk. “But you’re right about the chicken wrap thing—I'm also a dying-vase-of-flowers guy,” he adds jokingly, getting up from the couch and walking towards the dining room table. He puts his cigar out in a little ash tray on the table, touching the wilted bouquet before spinning on his heel to look at you. “Can we salvage these?”

“I suppose I can work my magic,” you say playfully. “You start cooking.”

“Deal.”

While Taehyung pulls pots, pans, and ingredients from the cabinets, you work on cutting the stems on the flowers shorter. As you run them under cold water in the sink, Taehyung looks on from your side.

“Girls must be born with the ability to take care of things,” he hums appreciatively.

You smile a little and try not to let him see it as you pull dead leaves and wilted petals off before finally, sticking all the stems in the clear, glass vase you brought from your apartment.

“Pretty?” you ask.

Taehyung turns around from where he’s chopping vegetables at the counter. “Perfect,” he agrees. “You’ve earned a glass of wine.”

“You say that like I didn’t buy it,” you snort, rolling your eyes.

“Hey, it’s my housewarming gift,” he says. “But I’m willing to share.”

You grab a glass from the cabinet Taehyung points to, thanking every instinct under the sun that you thought to get a bottle that had a screw-on top. Without looking for it, you know Taehyung wouldn’t have a wine opener.

“What are you making?” you ask.

“Stir fry,” he says. “I figured it would be quick and easy. That okay?”

You sip quietly and stand beside Taehyung as he chops, looking at the graceful way in which he handles food. His hands, big and tan, work with a knife flawlessly. You can’t help but wonder where he learned the skill—in high school he hadn’t known how to cook eggs properly.

He gets you to pour some wine in a separate glass for him that he sips on occasionally. You’re glad you thought about buying it—somehow having a drink in your hands eases the awkward staleness in the room that seems to creep back in during silences. He asks you a few more questions while he prepares—what was the best place to eat in town, what was the nightlife like, what was there to do for fun—and you rattle off what you little you know.

Lastly, he pulls out a small package of white mushrooms and begins slicing them. When he sees the uneasy expression on your face at the addition of a certain hearty vegetable, he shakes his head.

“I’m cooking them in a separate pan, love,” Taehyung murmurs quietly, brow furrowed in concentration. He doesn’t even look at you when he says it, casually tacking on the old pet name onto the end, but you’re glad he doesn’t, because the shock on your face would tell everything.

He hasn’t forgotten anything about you or your preferences. The thought pulls at invisible strings on your insides, but it’s not the same anxiousness as earlier. It’s more of a warmth, an appreciation, a heartfelt emotion that has been silently gnawing at the back of all your interactions since you stepped foot in his apartment. You missed this.

You down what’s left of the wine in the bottom of your glass, hoping the alcohol will take that tight feeling in your throat with it as it travels to your stomach.

“Shit, I forgot to cut up the broccoli!” Taehyung says suddenly. “Y/N can you do that while I get these mushrooms frying? They’re going to take longer.”

You nod, going to the refrigerator. Taehyung puts a pan on the stove and turns on the burner, digging around for a spatula to cook with as you grab the knife and get to work. Somehow, you forget everything you’ve ever learned about cooking or cutting, and a few seconds into slicing the broccoli stem, the tip of the paring knife goes right through the tip of your index finger.

“Ow, fuck!” you say, dropping the knife immediately and cradling your injured finger with your other hand. It oozes blood and you step back from the cutting board to save the food.

Taehyung is at your side immediately. “You okay?” He cuts off the stove burner and rushes out of the kitchen. “Run it under some water, I’ll get the first aid kit!”

It isn’t bad, but it’s going to need a band-aid if you expect to carry on the night without a huge mess. You watch the dark red liquid start to run down your finger so you walk out of the kitchen to avoid getting blood in that sink and opt for the bathroom connected to Taehyung’s bedroom instead.

“I know the first aid kit is around here somewhere,” he murmurs as you walk through, his back to you as he bends over a few boxes stacked in the corner of his room.

You turn the sink on and rinse off the blood pooling at the end, blotting it dry with a square of toilet paper. Taehyung walks into the bathroom with the first aid kit just as you are closing the lid on the toilet, sitting on the seat as you apply light pressure to the cut.

“Is it bad?” he asks, crouching down in front of you. He pulls some ointment out of the kit and flips your hand over, cradling it with his much bigger one as he inspects the damage.

“It’s fine, I think,” you say, trying hard not to show the way tingles are shooting up your arm as Taehyung spreads a small amount of ointment on your finger, hands dancing and caressing your skin with care as he tends to it. “Sorry that I’m so awful at using a knife.”

He looks up at you, giving you a pretty, genuine smile. “It’s okay, I should have remembered—last time we tried to cook together it ended in a disaster, too.”

There’s a beat of silence—partly because you are racking your brain trying to remember the specific time Taehyung is referring to, and partly because suddenly, his face is close to yours for the first time of the entire night and you can see everything that you missed about Taehyung: the chocolate irises that stare happily back at you, the freckle that dots the tip of his nose that you used to kiss over and over, the softness of his pink lips and the way they pull back over a set of straight, beautiful teeth and send a warm smile your way.

And then his head is bent again, the moment gone as quickly as it came as he focuses back on the task at hand. He grabs a thin band-aid from the kit and works on unwrapping it, letting go of your fingers for the time being.

“Thanks for this,” you say, finally. “And thanks for inviting me over, I’m really—” you pause, licking your dry lips and trying to swallow the lump that’s suddenly formed in your throat, “I’m glad I got to see you.”

Taehyung doesn’t look up immediately at the confession—instead, he lets it linger quietly in the air of his cramped bathroom as he peels the paper strips off the sides of the bandaid. He wraps it around your finger gingerly, dropping the trash in the waste basket that sits beside the toilet. Still crouched in front of you, Taehyung pulls your hand up, fingertips aligning with his as if measuring your hand sizes before he intertwines them between yours. He gives your hand a squeeze like this, and you find it hard to look away as your eyes meet.

“Me too, Y/N,” he says softly. “I missed you.”

The quietness of Taehyung’s apartment lays easily on the conversation, covering the confession like a warm blanket. Your face is hot, and you can’t tell if it’s because of the wine or the intensity in which Taehyung is staring at you, still crouched in between your legs and holding your hand with his own.

When his eyes lower from yours finally, you realize you had been holding your breath the whole time, and you let it out quietly through your nose. Taehyung seems to deflate in front of you as well—deciding against whatever was rolling in his mind and making his eyebrows furrowed, as he loosens his grip on your hand and moves to straighten up.

But you don’t want him to move yet. You want to stay in this atmosphere, in this pulse-racing closeness with Taehyung because it’s a feeling that hasn’t coursed through your veins in a long, long time. You tug him back into place and he stutters at the movement, opening his mouth to say something but you don’t let him.

You just want to touch him, to feel him underneath the weight of your fingertips, to run your hand across the tan, smooth skin of his cheek. The feeling is so strong you can’t decide a solid reason why you shouldn’t. So you untangle your hand from his and rake it through the long, blonde strands of his hair, scratching lightly at the back of his neck where you know he likes it. Taehyung’s eyes close from pleasure, familiarness—and when he opens them, you know he’s lost the battle with himself from the fire lit behind his brown irises. You don’t mind, because you lose the same battle when you decide to lean in, using your hand resting on the back of Taehyung’s neck to guide his lips to yours.

The kiss is timid at first, a testing of the waters with closed mouths pressed against each other because neither of you are sure what is happening, or if it should be happening. But when Taehyung brings his hands up to cup the sides of your face, breaking away for just a second to reposition so that his lips are slanted across yours in a harder, more urgent kiss—all sensibility you had leaves the room.

Taehyung pulls you up from your sitting position as he straightens his legs from crouching, using the opportunity to bring you closer and wrap his arms around your waist while his lips graze feverishly across your own. It’s been  over two years without pressing your lips against his, but the moment they touch, everything comes back. Taehyung kisses you to leave you breathless, his tongue easily slipping in after a few moments, lacing with your own in a way that is familiar but exciting and new at the same time.

You’re reminded of the mushrooms suddenly, and that Taehyung hasn’t forgotten anything about you like this, either, despite some time apart: the way you loved it when he cradled your face with one hand while his other wrapped around your waist, cocooning you in his warmth and pressing you against his lean body; kissing you slow, but hot and needy to where your body can’t help but feel like melted ice cream in his hands; the way you loved it when he pulled back and looked at you, gauging your reaction to it all, even when he knew exactly what he was doing to you before diving back in with eagerness that made your heart skip.

When you break away to get some air, Taehyung only moves his attention to the skin of your neck, peppering kisses down your jawline until he reaches your pulse point, suckling on the skin lightly there. You close your eyes, tilting your head back to encourage him further, a breathy sigh releasing from between your lips at the warmth of his mouth.

Somewhere along the sucking and nipping and feverish, open-mouth kisses on your skin, Taehyung begins walking you back through the bathroom door frame and into his bedroom. You stumble with him towards the bed, unable to take your hands off of each other for fear that the moment will be ruined and unable to be recaptured with quite the same amount of passion. Neither of you speak, either, for the same reasons, you suppose--but you couldn’t say anything if you wanted; Taehyung doesn’t give you a chance with the way his mouth dances across yours.

Taehyung lightly pushes your shoulders once you’re at the edge of his mattress that sits on the floor—sans bed frame—and you lower yourself down as he follows you, covering your body with all of his. He positions himself perfectly between your legs so that his hard cock sits right against your center, placing pressure on your most sensitive bits, and Taehyung milks a slight moan from your mouth when he ruts against you.

Your clasp the sides of his face, bringing his lips back to yours with fervor unmatched to any time you’d been kissed in the past two years. While Taehyung licks inside of your mouth, your hands roam underneath his thin, white T-shirt, fingernails dragging along the skin of his back in a light scratch that has him groaning in the back of his throat. He leaves your mouth again to nip along your collarbones, bringing one of his hands up to pull down the collar of your sweater and give himself more access.

It’s hot in his room, and not because the A/C isn’t working—in between closing your eyes, you see the vent on the ceiling right above your heads—but your skin is warm all over your body, a feeling that only comes with the circumstance of Taehyung between your legs. You roll your hips upward  to meet his, making his mouth stutter in the marks of distinction it was making along your chest. He sits up, kneeling between your legs and looking at you with curious eyes. Taehyung’s lips are swollen from all the kissing and his hair is mussed from your fingertips running through it, but in this moment, you’ve never been more attracted to him.

You tug at the bottom of his shirt and Taehyung snatches it over his head with ease, smirking when your eyes roam over the tan, lean planes of his chest and stomach. His shoulders have widened and broadened, but he’s still managed to keep a slender, boyish figure over the years; you want to run your hands over every crevice of his body and re-remember all the lines so that when this moment between you two is done,  you can revisit the memory over and over and over.

When Taehyung leans back over you to connect your lips again, you roll over his body before he can, pushing him flat on his back and swinging your leg over so that you’re straddling his waist. Though Taehyung looks surprised at first at the sudden dominance, his eyebrows slowly return to their normal position on his forehead as you lean down to kiss him once more.

He melts underneath the brush of your mouth, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs caging him on either side of his body. While you trace the underside of his jaw with your tongue, he breathes out, “God, I missed you,” while his hands roam upward, grabbing what he can of your ass through the jeans you have on. The movement makes you jump in surprise and Taehyung laughs a little at the way you pull back from him to look at the playfulness in his eyes before he leans up and kisses you on the mouth chastely.

With his hands spread across your backside, Taehyung pulls your hips towards him, causing you to grind against his hard cock that sits beneath the crotch of his grey sweats. You close your eyes as Taehyung’s tongue sneaks out to tease against yours, coaxing you with the warmth of his mouth and his lap to continue your ministrations.

“Tae,” you breathe out, bowing your head as you continue to grind on him.

Your panties are slick with your wetness, sticking to you uncomfortably underneath your jeans but you’re too lost in the haziness of the moment to do anything about it. You realize how pathetic you might sound, moaning because of the friction between so many clothes, but when you open your eyes and look at Taehyung, staring half-lidded back at you and breathing heavily—you couldn’t care less. His gaze sends a knot coiling in your stomach, tightening with every roll of your hips.

When you moan his name again shamelessly, Taehyung sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, closing his eyes as if fighting with himself for what he wants to say—but then he loses when the words escape his plump lips.

“What is it, baby?” he murmurs. “Why don’t you take these off?” He pats his hands where they rest against your butt, squeezing once again through the material.

The thought flashes in your head of what underwear you wore today—certainly not a fuck me pair—and try to think of how Taehyung would react to seeing your simple, baby blue cotton panties.

“Hm?” he asks, letting his hand come down on your ass in a harder smack this time—still encouraging the roll of your hips against his cock. “Take them off, I want to touch you.” He pauses, fighting the groan building in the back of his throat. “Wanna—make you feel good, Y/N.”

Hongbin is never this forward with you—he wasn’t much of an ass guy in the first place, so he would never do this—and since it had been a while since you two shared a passionate moment because of his work schedule, you couldn’t remember what it was like with Taehyung overpowering those memories with his sensual, fiery touches and narrations.

You want to get completely lost in the moment, but you can’t. Hongbin—he floods back into your brain, unwarranted and at the utmost wrong time he possibly could. It’s all happening so fast—but not fast enough. Your mind takes over instead of your body, your wants, and you open your eyes from their closed state, taking in the sight before you:

Taehyung, underneath you. Shirtless. Small, pink marks covering his neck and chest from your mouth. From your mistakes. From your infidelity. You snatch your hands back from where they rest on his stomach, guilt flooding your system as the fog in your brain thins. Taehyung’s eyes open to anxiously search yours, and he knows immediately what has happened in the last few, precious seconds.

“Taehyung—” you gasp, moving off him and scooting away, off the mattress and toward the wall of his bedroom. When the cold, hard material presses against your back, you realize how far your shirt was pushed up—how close you were to taking it off with your pants following shortly after, and it only makes you feel worse.

“Y/N,” Taehyung says, rushing to crawl after you on his hands and knees. He cradles your cheeks between his hands, brushing away trails of tears you didn’t even know you were crying. “Y/N, I’m sorry—fuck, I’m so fucking sorry. I—” he pauses, running a hand through his air, looking past you with far off eyes. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, god. Fuck!”

You run a shaky hand through your hair, blinking away tears and moving your head side to side in disbelief.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, pushing his hands away. “I have to go—I have to leave, I’m—” you push up from the floor, walking on shaky legs towards Taehyung’s bedroom door.

He grabs his shirt and is after you in a flash, reaching out to capture your wrist in his before you can make it far. “Y/N, wait a second, we should talk about this.”

You pull out of his loose grip and he lets you, watching you with worried eyes as you put on your shoes and jacket by the door.

“Y/N, please,” he says, and you can hear the hopelessness in his voice. It makes you pause and look up at him, but then your eyes zero-in on the marks on his chest, at the shirt in his hand, and your eyesight blurs with tears again.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Taehyung,” you say. “I’m sorry, this was—this was a mistake.”

Taehyung flinches at the sound of the word, but he nods slowly in understanding. “I’m sor—”

You manage a soft me too, cutting him off before he can say it and then you are rushing out, pulling Taehyung’s front door shut behind you. Just before it closes you catch a glimpse of his kitchen, at the pans on the stove sitting with the cold, forgotten remainders of a dinner that never should have happened in the first place.

— One week later —

“You all right?” Yeonwoo asks as she sits across from you at the kitchen table, setting a mug of steaming hot coffee in front of your tightly clasped hands. This is about the millionth time she’s asked since you got back from Taehyung’s last Sunday—it’s annoying, but at least you’re getting to practice your lying by having to convince her over and over.

“I’ll be great as soon as I drink this,” you say, giving her a smile right before the cup touches your lips. You welcome the burning feeling of the coffee, coating the lies and guilt that keep building up in your throat whenever she asks you.

Yeonwoo hums in agreement, naively, and takes a sip from her own mug.

Of course, you couldn’t tell her what had happened—you couldn’t even process the thoughts yourself, much less explain to someone else what made you cross such a terribly huge line in your seemingly stable relationship. You know you’d wished for it in the moment, but now you want the unrelenting memories of Taehyung to stop flashing through your mind at any given moment and give your poor, guilty heart a fucking break.

“Want to go shopping today?” Yeonwoo asks, not looking up from scrolling on her phone. “I need a new pair of boots.”

You take another sip of your coffee in contemplation, glancing at your own phone sitting a few inches away on the table. Taehyung hadn’t contacted you once since then, and it was eating at your nerves a little bit—shouldn’t he have something to say about it?

“We can go,” you say, finally. “But I need to make a phone call, first.”

Yeonwoo nods and doesn’t look up as you leave the room. You walk in your bedroom, phone in hand and shut the door behind you. For good measure, you lock it, just in case Yeonwoo decides to burst in while you sit Indian style in the middle of your floor and try to figure your conflicted emotions out.

You tap the Facebook app on your home screen and type ‘T’ into the search bar—the first person that pops up is Kim Taehyung from your incessant checking of his timeline within the last week. All he’d posted was a few normal pics of himself sightseeing around town and going to work; it was all boring, mundane things that didn’t help the insatiable craving to reach out to him, but at least he looked cute in his new work button-ups.

You pull up your chat, staring at the last message between you two:

Which building/room?

1100/425!

You knew where his house was, you could just have this conversation to him in person—the thought has you shaking your head before you even finish it. If you couldn’t control yourself last time, how the hell would it be any different during a second round of being alone together?

But, deep down, did you really want it to be any different? The thought had been scaring you for a week straight.

You drag both of your hands down your face in anxiety, pressing your knuckles against your eyes until you see black and static stars. You cross and uncross your legs, pick your phone up and put it down a few times before you finally click in the space to type and let your thoughts formulate freely:

Taehyung, I’m sorry that I left last Sunday and we didn’t really get to talk about what happened. But I’ve had some time to think. Honestly, I think the only thing we can do is put it behind us and move on. I’m sorry that it happened and it shouldn’t happen again. But meeting up made me realize how much I’ve missed you, and I think I kind of need you around as my friend. I’m really sorry, and I hope you still want to talk to me after this. I understand if you don’t, though.

You press send and throw your phone away from you, pulling your knees up to your chest and burying your face in the space between your legs and chest. You breathe out shallowly, thinking over in your head what you just texted and hoping it didn’t make you sound like a pitiful, stupid, selfish idiot.

You knew it was wrong of you to ask Taehyung to come back in your life after what happened between the two of you. Hell, you know it was wrong to bring him back into your life after two years of radio silence between the two of you. What happened was more than just a moment—it was a melding of hidden feelings, of unfulfilled desires and the unrelenting urge to be with someone who knew your body better than you did.

You loved Hongbin. But Taehyung set a fire within your ribcage that billowed outwards and swallowed everything you thought you wanted in your relationship with your current boyfriend; Taehyung, in just a few short hours, had made you forget all of it, made you cross lines you swore you never would because you knew what it felt like to be cheated on. But something about it had felt so right in the moment—

No. If you were going to do this, you had to do it right. You had to be Taehyung’s friend. You had to bury the moment you two shared along with all your dirty desires and do what was right.

But then again, you never were the best at making decisions. The thought passes through your mind as you hear the distinct, vibrating hum of your phone across the floor a few feet away from you, and you snatch it up with sweating palms, a racing heart, and an unrelenting sense of hope blossoming in your chest.

Before the message even pops up, you know, without a single fucking doubt in your mind, that this moment is going to change everything.

Taehyung is typing...

[i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend]

The Art of Love (Part 5) ~ Steve Rogers x Reader College!AU

Updated A/N 10/17/2020: Formerly algorithm knows best and companion to cupid’s code. Whether an updated version of Cupid’s Code will be a companion is TBD.

A/N: Hi lovelies! Happy hump day Here’s some fluff to get you through.

Summary: You finally make it to those dinner reservations.

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x reader (Platonic - for now)

Rating: T

Warnings: Language, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF

Word Count: 1473

Main Masterlist | The Art of Love Masterlist | Broken Hearts and Robot Parts Masterlist (Companion Fic) ​

Being out with Steve made you giddy. The two of you rarely went out alone. It was normally nights in on the couch, which you loved. But this was something special. It felt like… a date.

No, you scolded yourself. Not a date. A celebration between friends.

“Sweetheart?” Steve called softly, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere important. Sorry,” you laughed looking down at the menu. “The chocolate lava cake sounds delicious.”

“That’s why I ordered you one while you were daydreaming,” he grinned.

Your jaw dropped. Surely you would have heard him do that.

“No you didn’t.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“How did you know what I wanted?” you asked, embarrassed that you had spaced out that hard.

“I picked the most chocolatey thing on the menu.”

“That’s fair,” you laughed, shaking off the momentary awkwardness you’d felt. “So I assume you got the angel food cake?”

“We are creatures of habit.”

You were laughing at that comment when the waiter returned with a plate that had different flavors of sorbet and “Congratulations” written in chocolate sauce.

“The desserts you ordered will be out in a moment. But this is on the house. And here is your champagne,” he smiled as another waiter who’d been trailing him, passed him the bottle.  

“We didn’t order any champagne,” you told him.

No restaurant was that nice.

“Your boyfriend requested this especially before you arrived. Congratulations on your new job.”

“Oh. Thank you.”  

You were so caught off guard by Steve’s gesture that you didn’t even process that the waiter called him your boyfriend.

“Thank you, Gregory,” Steve smiled at him as he uncorked the bottle and he poured two glasses.  

“Enjoy.”  

“Steve, you really shouldn’t have,” you whispered once Gregory had disappeared.

“Yes. I should have. We’re celebrating your new job. You deserve all this and more.”

You held back your natural argument when you saw the pride and love in his eyes.

“Thank you.”

He raised his glass to you, clear blue eyes dancing.

“To my best friend, the new dance captain and assistant choreographer of the Howling Commandos Stage Troupe.”

You clinked your glass against his and sipped the champagne, savoring the moment.

 Steve’s POV

Once you were home Steve took your coat and hung it in the front closet.

“I didn’t think you knew that was a coat closet,” you teased.

“Oh shush, you,” Steve huffed making you giggle.

“Thank you for everything tonight. You sure know how to make a girl feel special.”

“You deserve to always feel special,” he promised as you threw your arms around his neck.

His wound around your waist reflexively as you swayed, clearly a little tipsy from the champagne. He felt a bit wobbly as well, but he was fairly certain that it had more to do with you than the champagne. Steve held you close as you nuzzled your nose against his neck and stifled a yawn against his shirt.

“Tired, sweetheart?”

“A little,” you mumbled.

“Why don’t we get ready for bed then?”

“Mmkay,” you assented but didn’t move.

“Y/n?”

No response.

“Alright, up we go I guess.”

He swung you up into a bridal carry and you hummed contently. He set you down on the bed and knelt in front of you so he could unbuckle your heels, sliding them off and setting them neatly in the closet.

“C’mon, darlin’, you don’t want to ruin your pretty dress by sleeping in it.”  

“Fine,” you sighed holding your hands out so he could help you stand up.

“I’ll leave you to change.”

He strode out of the room grabbing your water bottles from the fridge and making sure the front door was locked. He’d just turned out the front light when he heard you call his name.

“Steve?”

“What’s up, sweetheart?” he called as he moved through the apartment.

“I need you.”

Steve chuckled at your dramatic whine.

“What the matter, darlin’?” he asked as he set the waters and your phones down on the bedside table.

“I can’t get my zipper undone,” you pouted, arms twisted awkwardly behind your back.

“S’alright. I’ve got it. Turn around.”

You spun obediently and Steve stepped closer, probably closer than strictly necessary, brushing your hair over your shoulder and dragging the zipper down your back. He couldn’t help but look at your reflection as your eyes drifted shut and a soft smile graced your features.

He had to stop himself from pushing the straps off your shoulders or pressing a kiss to your bare skin. That would be crossing far too many lines and he was already in too deep.

“I’m going to go change in the bathroom.”  

You hummed an acknowledgment as you rifled through your duffel bag for your clothes. Steve tried not to stare at the expanse of your back he’d revealed, closing the door a bit more aggressively than he intended to.  

There was a soft knock on the door a few minutes later while he was brushing his teeth.

“Steve, can I come in and start taking my make up off?”

He leaned over to unlock the door and pulled it open and then grabbed your pack of makeup removers from his top drawer. You sidled in, already half asleep and started your nightly routine.

When you were done you both crawled under the covers, and he paused waiting for you to situate yourself. He frowned when you turned away from him, but it disappeared as you wriggled closer to him so you were pressed against his front and you placed his arm on your waist.  

“Good night, sweetheart,” he rumbled in your ear as he pulled you even closer.

“Good night, Steve. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Steve was surprised to wake up and find you still in his arms. Normally you’d be up and baking or heading back to your apartment. But not today. You’d agreed to sleep in and mosey over to the store when you were ready, although when Steve glanced at the clock and saw it was only 5 AM he knew he’d failed on the sleeping in. But the view was certainly worth it.  

He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as he watched you sleep.

Steve had long since memorized your features in lots of moments. The way your brow furrowed when you choreographed. The way you smiled and hummed while you baked. The way you yelled at the TV during a hockey game – despite “not caring about sports”. He’d also seen how your eyes got red and you pursed your lips when you cried, although that wasn’t a memory he relished.

But this was new. Your hair was splayed out around you on his pillows and there was a small smile on your lips. He had never gotten to see you so completely at peace, and he was certain he’d never felt so at ease.

You clutched his shirt more tightly and followed when he rolled onto his back so he could grab his phone. When he accidentally opened the camera app on his phone he froze. You looked so beautiful, he had to capture the moment. He knew he’d try to sketch or paint it later on, but he suspected it wouldn’t do the moment justice. He quickly snapped a photo before scrolling through his notifications.

The boomerang he’d posted of you sipping champagne on Instagram had well over a hundred likes.

Champagne Fridays are the best Fridays. Finally getting to properly celebrate my best friend @danceyourfeelings getting her first grown up job. You’re going to be amazing (like always). I love you! #BeautifulandBubbly

There were also plenty of heart eyes emojis in the comments.

He rolled his eyes at the stream of texts in his group chat with Bucky and Sam calling him an idiot. He also noticed a new tag notification and realized you’d posted a picture of the two of you that the waiter had taken. You were on one foot, tugging him down by his tie and kissing him on the cheek and he was laughing at god only knows what. You could easily be mistaken for a couple in love.

So lucky to have this guy in my life. He’s been with me through it all for the last three and a half years and I’m so glad I got to celebrate some of the best news of my life with him. Thank you for everything you do for me @ArtsySteveRogers. I love you so much! #MyBestFriendIsBetterThanYours #MCE (Man Crush Everyday) #Stud

Steve immediately went to the comment section. Everyone was commenting #goals and the like. He saw more than a few pointed remarks from your closer friends. He quickly responded with a sappy message in return and then put his phone down, opting to enjoy the quiet moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed !

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Update 3/15/2021: Hello, Lovelies. As some of you may have seen on the blog I have decided to suspend tag lists. If you would like to receive updates about new content please follow @naynay-writes​​ and turn on notifications. Thank you! Xoxo, Naynay

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[hq-cuties]

Can we get a scenario where the Aoba Johsai third years take Matsukawa’s s/o to the ‘Storm Area 51’ raid, Makki and Matsun purely going for the meme, Oikawa going for Aliens and Iwa is forced to come along. The entire trip there she basically memes the fuck outta Area 51, Area 51 Tik Tok memes are fresh as fuck. Use this information as you please.

I got this request a long time ago and I’ve been thinking about it since I first saw it because it’s so good?? This is pure gold and should 10/10 be canon i- thank you so much for this. Also, it’s taking place in America because I made it a road trip without really thinking

----

     “Why did I agree to this..” Iwaizumi mumbles, his eyes still focused on the road. He’s barely heard over the sound of Oikawa’s shit playlist blaring through the speakers, and he sighs slowly.

    “Because,” Oikawa starts, turning down the volume slightly, “We have to see the aliens, Iwa.”

    “How do you even know that there are aliens?”

    “How do you know that there aren’t aliens?”

    “If I wasn’t driving right now, I’d smack you so hard..” Iwaizumi mumbles, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

    Oikawa had somehow convinced Iwaizumi to tag along on the trip, but it seems now that the boy regretted it deeply. You all took Oikawa’s mom van, the setter driving for the first hour or so, but he continued to turn around to watch the area 51 tiktoks you had found. After yelling at him to watch the road a few times, Iwaizumi eventually just switched with him at the next stop.

    The setter was now titled the “aux king”, where he only played old tiktok songs or Yung Gravy. You sat in the middle between Matsukawa and Hanamaki- the three of you being the meme collectors. The whole ride, you all simply exchanged mass amounts of Area 51 memes.

    Now, Hanamaki had headphones in while playing some random game, and Matsukawa was dead asleep with his head on your shoulder. You continue to scroll through videos, trying to find more good ones to show Oikawa.

    “WAIT- no, (y/n)-” Oikawa bursts out, his hand smacking your leg excitedly, “I have the perfect song- oh my god.” You lean forward, trying to see what he was about to play while Iwaizumi tells him to be quiet. 

    The familiar tune of “Hit Me With Your Best Shot” comes through the speakers, and the sound of you and Oikawa screaming causes your boyfriend to jolt awake. He stares at the two of you through tired eyes before joining in, Hanamaki pulls out his earbuds to join you, and Iwaizumi rolls his eyes (while mumbling the lyrics, but he won't admit that).

    The car ride continues smoothly. Oikawa had switched again with Iwaizumi, and the ace had forced him to promise to not look at any phones. He was now napping in the passenger seat along with Hanamaki in the spot next to you.

    “Babe-” you manage through laughing, “this one, look at this one,”

    He takes the phone from your shaking hands and looks at the picture on the screen before laughing slightly and handing it back. His hand rests on your leg, the other one holding his phone. You lean your head against his shoulder while scrolling through tiktok, trying to find some more original ones.

    Eventually, everyone in the car falls asleep except for Oikawa. The ride continues in almost silence (Iwaizumi’s snoring filled the whole car) until you all finally reached your destination.

    “Guys, guess where we are..” Oikawa says, trying to wake everyone up. You pull your head up quickly, knocking Matsukawa’s off of yours in the process.

    “Let’s see them aliens?” You ask excitedly

    He nods at you excitedly, “Let’s see them aliens.”

    “Let’s see them aliens,” Matsukawa wakes up, grabbing your hand before repeating Oikawa. The whole car, save for Iwaizumi, begins chanting the phrase and jumping in their seats, causing the car to shake.

    “Get on your shirts, boys,” you mention, pulling the homemade shirt over your head. They all nod, doing the same, before getting out of the car. All of them have a picture of naruto with the phrase “they can’t catch all of us” written underneath.

    You all end up only doing the legal tour, but the amount of other people there for the meme was overwhelming.

    You got a lot of compliments on the shirts, at least.

[sparklebitch]

Dan and Phil’s Impact

Okay this is going to be long and rambling because I’m trying to type it on my phone in the car and my thoughts are all over the freaking place and I don’t blame you if you don’t want to read the whole thing I’ll put a tldr at the end lmao.

So first of all I’ve been watching Dan and Phil since like? 2014~ And for a while there wasn’t a minute that went by where I didn’t think about them. Their videos got me through so much shit in my life. Even dumb video game videos were like my reprieve from real life. And yeah a lot of stuff was super cringy and I was definitely borderline one of those creepy people that wanted to know everything about their lives (obvs not anymore lol) but that aside they were such good freaking influences on me? I looked up to them so much and, sure, I have a lot of role-model-worthy people in my life, but no one like them.

Everyone around me is so aggressively religious (although a lot of them are totally cool about it and not bad peoples !! But the rest of them are total dicks) and I felt like I couldn’t... question myself I guess? About literally anything. I felt like I couldn’t question religion, sexuality, the things I liked, what I wanted to do, who I wanted to be. It was like everyone’s lives revolved around church stuff and people were basically born knowing what they were going to do? And there I was, an awkward, sexually confused, homeschooler who had 2 friends that she wasn’t even that close to. I felt like I was the only one in the world like this. Everyone seemed to have a place in the world, except me. I often thought that maybe it was a mistake that I was in this world, that there was some cosmic screw up and that I was never meant to be born. I felt incomplete and it was so confusing and horrible. I was sure that that feeling was never going to go away. I had no one to talk to, no one to explain to me that it was okay to screw up. It wasn’t the end of the world to question things or yourself, everything was going to be okay. All I wanted in my life was for someone to tell me that.

Then I found Dan and Phil. And yeah, they’re two British boys on the internet that will never know who I am. But that’s okay. They don’t need to know me to have an impact on my life. I mean, who’s ever been impacted by a song? A movie, a book, an actor, an artist? The human race is always searching for someone or something to look up to. Religion, famous people, a father figure, a friend. Someone. And that’s what they were to me.

People didn’t understand what it was that I liked about them. And, if I’m being 100% honest, I guess I didn’t really know either. Sure, they’re funny, and the chemistry between the two is very compelling but there was just something about them that spoke to me. I loved them. More than I had loved anything in my life. I looked up to them, and listened to the things they said, listened to the things they believed it. Through them I discovered so many of the things that I love in my life. I started writing and drawing because of them! It’s crazy to think that I am the person that I am today because of them. I can’t imagine what I would be like if I hadn’t watched their videos.

There’s a lot of uncertainty in my life right now as I’m finishing up getting my General Associates and I’m in the process of starting a daycare with my older sister. It’s a lot for me to process because for the longest time all I wanted to do was get away from here. I wanted to go somewhere and be someone new. And it wasn’t until recently that I realized that’s not what I actually wanted. I love my family and my friends, I love living here (aside from the bigots but they’re everywhere so there’s no escaping them). What I really, truly wanted was to be myself. It wasn’t my family and this town that I wanted to get away from, it was the me that I was pretending to be. I just wanted to be myself, that was all. I didn’t care if it was in a big town with new people, i just wanted people to know me. I wish I knew this back then, then maybe I wouldn’t have gone into a tailspin when I was getting ready for college but hindsight I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

When I finished high school it was like I was paralyzed. I didn’t know how to make decisions for myself or do anything on my own. All I knew was that I was not straight, seemingly surrounded by homophobes, and I was very very tired. So, toward the end of summer my mom pushed me enrolled me at a community college near home (which I am grateful for lol) and then I was going to transfer to a university after 2 years. Things started to feel better after that. Around that time I also started taking medication for depression and anxiety and it has only completely changed my life. No longer am I the super quiet painfully awkward person who’s so afraid to say something wrong that she instead stays silent, not telling anyone about my interests or passions in fear that I would be ridiculed, hiding core parts of me while the whole world passes by. I was talking and making jokes, I wasn’t constantly terrified to talk to people or to even simply leave my house to go places. Things were better. I was happier!

But as the time for me to transfer to a university drew near that paralyzing feeling crept back into my skin. I hated my classes. I hated college. I was suddenly plunged back into the world of endlessly scrolling through social media and watching the same shows on tv over and over, isolating myself from everyone and everything trying to ignore the world around me. I felt like everything was hopeless again. I was only occasionally watching dan and Phil videos at this time, having very reluctantly grown away from them (it was a sad day when I realized that I didn’t care if I skipped a video or two. I literally cried that day). But I was bored then, so I started watching their videos again. This was around the time that dan posted his video on depression (that’s a while other long ass post I could make but probably won’t because I’m already tired of typing) and i damn near called my mom (even though she was just downstairs) on the spot to tell her what I was feeling. Hearing that there was someone else out there that felt like I was was enough. But not only that, he explained that recovery is not a straight road. There are twists and turns, there are setbacks. It’s not like I was going to get better and everything was going to magically be awesome all the time. Some stuff was going to suck. I was going to go through shitty times and that was okay.

Because of him, I ended up going back to the doctor and explaining that my meds weren’t working anymore, and I got it taken care of. I feel so much fucking better now than I did before, and I know that it’s okay if I don’t always feel this way. I told my parents that I didn’t want to go to a university and they were okay with it, provided that I finished my 2 year degree at the community college. And while some things still suck, and I’m still worried about my future and whether or not I’m going to meet someone and fall in love, things are absolutely positively 1000% better than they have ever been. And a lot of it is thanks to them. Obviously it was me who actually took the steps I needed to to get here, but it was because of their being my role model that I had the courage to get where I am today.

Dan and Phil have such a unique platform and following. They could say jump and so many people would (metaphorically ofc) jump off the cliff, me included. But they don’t do that. They use their fame to positively impact people. They use their platform to encourage people and talk about important things in life. They share things about their lives in the hopes that it will help even 1 person out there... and I’m not the only one who they’ve positively impacted. The number of people that owe everything to them is crazy.

Okay so now I’m going to go a little bit into labels. (Not too much tho I’m seriously tired of typing lol). Dan talked about them a lot in his video. An entire freaking chapter of it was dedicated to labels. When I was younger I knew that I liked girls. I liked boys too though, so I just shrugged it off as Really wanting to be friends with girls. I didn’t know what the word gay meant until I was like 12 because I was a very sheltered child. My parents never talked about it and the only time I ever remember hearing the word before then was when one of my siblings called another sibling “gay” at the dinner table. The only thing I knew about the word was that my parents Did Not Like it. While I eventually stumbled onto the internet and learned a Lot of things, and a lot about labels, I became overwhelmed. There were so many words with so many meanings, and lot of times people didn’t agree on what the literal definition was. (Like bisexual meaning Only men+women vs. just like.. more than just 2+ genders) So for a long time I identified as pansexual because.. I didn’t know what to do. And based on my experiences on the internet, being bi was basically saying that you were excluding people. Idk it was fucked. The label ‘pan’ didn’t really feel like it fit me either, but it worked for the time being.

Dan’s comments on labels really got me thinking. I don’t think I’m a lesbian, but I don’t really know about bisexual either. When he said that he loved to use the word queer it just.. fucking hit me in the chest like a ton of bricks. I literally couldn’t breath. And it’s not like I’ve never heard people use the word queer. Tons of people identify as queer. But it was just something about the way he explained it? And maybe it was just the fact that it was him explaining it because, as I said before, I look up to him. He has a huge impact on my life. Saying queer gives me comfort. It feels less... restrictive I guess, for a lack of better words. I don’t know if this will be /the/ label for me, but that’s not the point. There doesn’t have to be a label for me. I, no one, should have to be pressured into finding a label so that other people have something to call you?? Fuck labels. Fuck people who pressure you into picking one. You be you.

So, in conclusion (honestly I feel like this has all been so incoherent I apologize) I don’t want to hide forever. I don’t. I hope that some day I can have even a fraction of the courage that Dan has to tell the people that I care about who I truly am. And the first step is telling someone.

So, to everyone who sees it here, most of which probably know or don’t care,

I’m bisexual, bitch. And I use the word queer.

It took so much fucking courage for dan to post that video and I have crazy amounts of respect for that man. I’ve said it a thousand times already, but I’m going to say it again. I’m so. Fucking. Proud of him. And I know he’s probably going to get thousands of stories like this one (if he hasn’t gotten that many already) but I’m going to tag him anyway. @danielhowell , you’ve changed my life. You’ve changed millions of people’s of lives for the better. Thank you. Thank you for everything you’ve done.

Tldr; dnp mean everything to me, even though I’ve grown away from them, they have been and always be a big part of who I am and i am so fucking proud of Dan.

[cleverbroadwayurl]

She Used to Be Mine (Jeremy Heere x Reader Pt 19)

Song: She Used to Be Mine from Waitress 

Need to Catch Up? tumblr has now officially takes things out of the tags that have lists. The link to every part and my masterlist is in my description for easy access! 

A/N: Oh my god I finally posted! I went on vacation and had so many exams the weeks before, and I had so much other work, so I’m sorry that this is so delayed! I should be back to regularly posting soon after next weekend (I have another event coming up)! 

Taglist: @retrogarden @be-more-heidi-hansen @catatonic-kuragin @scarsonthecuffsofyourjeans @bluhimaweirdo @stargirl-murphy 

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of an abusive boyfriend, mentions of character death, mentions of abuse, mentions of injuries, mentions of math, sad Jeremy, IF I MISSED ANYTHING LET ME KNOW

He watches you walk away, off into the distance before realizing how creepy that probably is. Jeremy grabs his keys from his pocket, phone still situated where it had been before. He walks carefully back to his car, hoping, wishing, that this is the last date you’ll ever be on with your boyfriend.

Jeremy jammed his key into the lock, exhaustion seeping into his regular routine, the typical for Thursday afternoons after an hour and a half math recitation. His brain is a mess of grey matter, he can feel the dullness inside of his eyes, paler than usual skin, even though his day consisted mostly of sitting, he still felt the tiredness through his legs. His backpack weighed down on his shoulders more than it normally did as he opened the door and threw his keys back into his jean pocket. He opened the door to his and Michael’s dorm, his eyes scanning over the posters that had been hung there when the two had moved in, the two carpooling in Michael’s PT Cruiser while their parents drove themselves and the boy’s stuff in their separate cars.

He throws his backpack onto the left side of the room, trash only slightly littering his side—he didn’t have time to clean up before his Calculus I exam that day. Darkness enveloped him as you continued to step through his side of the large dorm room, Michael’s side untouched from this morning. His brain had instead been skimming over the extremely long related rates and optimization problems. As much as they logically made sense, the calculation of them always weighed him down, each answer ending up being some fraction or decimal he didn’t particularly appreciate. His brain went over the process once again, constantly refreshing and double checking his answer, worried that he’d made a minor error and messed the entire thing up. He toes off his shoes, leaving them askew for the moment—he’d clean them up and put them away later. His brain was too tired for any real coherent interaction for a while.

His eyes scan the room, stopping for a second on the TV and switch against the wall that perfectly split the room into 2. Of course, a gaming console was how the two thought it would be best to divide the room. Jeremy had been right at Red Robin all those months ago: the bean bags wouldn’t fit in here. As Jeremy turns to sit onto his bed, eyes scanning the white walls that consume him, his eyes fall onto the postcards, the posters, the notes that had been sent to him. Of course, almost monthly, Christine would send him a friendship letter, an update about how magical college was and all the friends she was making. She’d updated him a few times, telling him that she decided to go to counselling because the stress was too much sometimes, and he had never been prouder of her. His eyes continue circling around the room, taking note of the blue sweater that hung near his bed in case he got cold in the middle of the night or right before getting out of bed.

Jeremy swings his feet around and lays down on the bed, a little bummed that Michael isn’t there so he can vent to him about his answer that was a fraction his professor said it wouldn’t be a fraction but it was. So, laying down and taking in the glow in the dark stars that he’d transported from home and stuck onto his ceiling at school would have to do. Another 15 minutes or so pass, and Jeremy is still going over each pencil mark, each moment of erasing over and over again. It isn’t until he gets the same answer 4 or 5 times in his mind that he gives it a rest, deciding that it would be healthier to focus on something else for a little bit. The exam is over, 2 out of 4 done. With no other classes for the rest of the day, Jeremy also takes a second before deciding that homework could wait until his brain was more coherent that it currently was. That, and the only class he had the next day was calculus yet again. The only logical thing his brain can come up with is to watch something on Netflix while curled up under the covers until Michael gets back from his classes.

As Jeremy gets up and grabs his laptop, his phone vibrates. There’s a text from one of his newer friends on it, asking him how he thought the exam went. He supposed that the text was a good thing. He has friends—he was making friends, too. It wasn’t hard to once he’d kind of broken out of his shell and got more comfortable with himself. And that was of course after Jeremy realized that most of his peers felt the same things he did ever so often. Of course, he left out the part about the weird super computer that tried to take over the school; he assumed that wasn’t a universal experience.

But Jeremy ignored the text for the minute. His brain wasn’t ready to comprehend everything in a healthy way yet. He knew that he was going to obsess over that one problem up until the minute that the grade would be entered into Blackboard, which could be hours, days, even sometimes weeks. He sets his laptop onto his bed before crawling back into it, fingers gliding over the mousepad, searching for the one app and closing a certain web browser. He finds it easily, and the app launches. Two fingers glide over the mousepad once again, scrolling down and eyes skimming for something mindless, something that could easily take his mind off of the events of the day but not too mentally challenging. His eyes hit “Keep Watching” and he stops, looking into the subheading.

Finally, he feels okay enough to reply to the text.

Jeremy: I don’t even know, I got a fraction for the related rates thing. Didn’t she say that we were going to get a nicely worked out problem?

He sends the text before locking his phone and putting it on “Do Not Disturb” so that he couldn’t be distracted by the outside world for a little bit. His eyes go back to the Keep Watching subheading and the content in it when he freezes. Right there, in plain print, easy text, is the piece of media you and Jeremy had watched together all those months ago.

Fuck, he remembers that night instantly, his mind rewinding to you with that bright orange cup, head against his chest, eyes fluttered shut, calmness finally flowing in and out of you. It was the most relaxed he’d ever seen you. He knew that it probably wasn’t a wonderful slumber, given your entire situation that affected your entire life to the point that you couldn’t even keep it together, strong as you were. He can remember the way his stars glowed, the way his sweater draped around you and somewhat onto him. He can remember the way you’d shifted right before he’d fallen asleep, almost snuggling into him more than before, hands calmly gripping his body, reaching out for him like he was the only thing in the world that mattered to you.

With a shake of his head, Jeremy is brought back. It’s 3:43 on a Thursday, months after the event, you’re probably hundreds of miles away. His heart hurts inside of his chest, bad enough that he feels like with to sharp of an exhale, it would come tumbling from his lips. He has no idea what happened with you. He has no idea if you’re okay, no idea if you’d managed to get free, managed to get rid of the stupid, what his British Literature professor called, Separate Sphere ideology, the Angel of the Household falling into freedom. His brain replays the moments in the gazebo, the leaves clapping with gusto as the breeze passes through, the way you smiled at him, moments where he was able to actually help you instead of just guessing and praying that things were okay. The way you told him that you got lost in time when talking to him. The way your lips curled into a smile, the genuine laugh, the looks of desperation almost peering into freedom. They were things he couldn’t forget, things that stuck on his mind for hours at a time.

At least this was only a basic remembering, no sensory details completely throwing him for a loop, causing his stomach to work in tandem with his mind. Seeing you in social media posts made the memories worse, they stung with each second they passed through his mind as his limbs would tingle, hands shaking and gripping, waiting for the memories to pass. As much as he wanted to admit that he was okay with not knowing about you, letting you go, he wasn’t. Deep down, it was apparent to everyone. He would lie awake, toss and turn, dream about the good, the bad, and what he assumed happened to you. Of course, it was always the worst in his nightmares, something he didn’t wish to dwell on while the sun was up, and the best in his daydreams. You hadn’t posted about your boyfriend recently, but you didn’t really before either, especially after you’d started even talking to him, even less since the incident—which is what he called that one night in passing with others. The only people who really knew the details about the incident were his dad, Michael’s moms, and Michael himself. Everything was under lock and key—both you and the issues you had—he was really the only one who knew exactly how you were feeling, the things you had been, or maybe still were, going through. He can remember Michael’s surprise when he first told him about you, about your situation, about your strength, about your new life, how much you’d changed. From happy to struggling to understand what was reality and what was something that was gaslit and given to you on a counterfeit silver platter.

And you’d gone silent lately. You were almost completely off the grid, to him at least. It was painful, every breath sitting inside of him, heavier than any gravitational pull in the universe. His heart, his mind, couldn’t help but fill in the blanks. Had you died? Had you done something too rebellious and ended up worse than the last time he saw you? Did you need help to live? Did you need help to even survive?

He can remember the way your hand brushed against his, the way your breath evened in hugs, that very first night, the way his hands glided across your back and helped you clean up. He can remember how your hand felt in his, your head against him, soft calmness seeping from you and into him. He can remember you leaning against him and his entire body lit aflame as he helped you up and down the stairs of the gazebo, the way your smile felt against his lips—clumsy kisses that had managed to turn into something absolutely beautiful and worth craving nearly daily. He can remember that smile that was etched into your shining face as the sunlight created an aura around you, leaves fluttering in the background. Jeremy remembers your hand slipping from his, a final farewell, or something similar leaving your lips. He remembers watching you walk away—why didn’t he watch longer?

Jeremy reaches his hand out, shaking as he tries to move the cursor away from the piece of media. He stops. Sharply, quickly, he shuts his laptop and casts it aside. Rolling over, the tears that had been forming in his eyes now spill down his cheeks. He can feel his legs contracting, toes curling so hard that his muscles begin to hurt, hands gripping the blanket. You were okay. You had to be okay.

Right?