#everything AFTER the lyrics i wrote is like very suggestive um...

[notdysfunk]

This would honestly fit more with our goodie two-shoes Sun, but the moon rot was strong when I drew this LOL 😭💕

[manesalex]

nothing starts without you (we become the stories we’ve always wanted): chapter 1/3

When Alex’s former bandmate, Rosa Ortecho, asks him to write a song to help kickstart her solo career, Alex finds himself struggling to write anything at all. Until, that is, he meets Michael Guerin. Or, a loose Music and Lyrics AU. for @alex-guerin @malexsanta​

Warnings for suggestive comments, references to past abuse, and references to addiction. Not Maria Deluca friendly.

***

“Can you get someone in soon to start making the changes?” Alex asks into his phone, looking around the cabin Jim Valenti left for him in his will. He hasn’t been here in at least a decade, but it’s his now and, while it’s almost exactly what he needs, it’s not exactly accessible.

“I’ve already scheduled someone to get started. He’ll be there the day after tomorrow. Is that soon enough for you?” Alex’s lawyer, Noah, asks.

“It’s perfect,” Alex laughs. “Kyle will be happy to be rid of me.” He’s joking. He knows that, for some reason, Kyle loves that he’s staying with him, loves the chance to catch up for so long. But, really, they both need their own space, if only so Alex can actually sleep in for once.

He’s barely hung up the phone when it rings again and he answers without looking, assuming it’s Noah again with something he’s forgotten.

“Hey, Alex,” Rosa’s voice surprises him.

It’s not that he’s avoiding her, not really. It’s just that, after everything fell apart, he’s surprised to hear from her. “Rosa,” he replies. “How are you?”

“Good. I’ve, um, I went through rehab. And I wanted to apologize. I’ve been sober for two years, actually.”

“That’s amazing.” He’s glad that something good could have come out of their band’s very painful public implosion.

“Yeah, and, like I said, I need to apologize. I said some truly awful things to you and I know you-”

“We were both struggling back then,” Alex brushes it away. “I forgave you long ago.”

Rosa is silent for a moment and then, “I’ve been working on some new music lately.”

Alex frowns. He can’t do this, not again. Not after what happened. “I’m glad. You’ve always been an amazing singer. But, if you’re calling about getting the band back together, I’m sorry, but I’m enjoying my privacy.”

“No, I know,” Rosa replies. “I just… I’m working on a new record and I need a ballad. I was wondering if you’d consider writing one for me.”

He shouldn’t be surprised at the request. He wrote most of their bigger hits, after all, even if Rosa was the face of it all. But he hasn’t written anything new since the band broke up and he’s not sure if he’s ready to go back to mining his trauma for music. He’s not sure if he even can write anything good again. “Can I think about it?”

“Of course,” Rosa answers quickly. “I mean, if you do write something, I’d love to play it at my concert on Saturday night, but– I can wait.”

“I’ll get back to you,” Alex promises. “And Rosa? I’m really glad you’re doing so well now.”

***

Alex wakes to the smell of coffee and bacon the next morning and comes out of Kyle’s guest room to find his friend busy at the stove. “I should be out of here soon,” he says, using his cane to get himself over to the table.

“You know I don’t mind,” Kyle says, handing him a cup of coffee before returning to the stove. “Having you here reminds me of our senior year of high school.”

“Dealing with all my shit?” Alex asks, careful to keep his tone joking.

“Having a brother. And knowing you were safe.”

Alex wraps his hands around the mug, eyes on it when he says, “I’m not going far. Just to the cabin Jim left me.”

 “I’m sorry he never got around to making it accessible for you,” Kyle says, still focused on the stove.

“He did more than enough for me,” Alex brushes it off. “And it’s not like he wasn’t busy with everything else.” He pauses, taking a sip before he says, “Noah is sending someone over tomorrow to get started on it. Well, that and making some necessary updates because I’m not going to rely on that ancient fireplace for heating. Not to mention all the other things that haven't changed as long as we’ve been alive.”

“Good.” Kyle is silent for a moment before he says, “Rosa called me last night. She was worried she overstepped.”

“She didn’t,” Alex replies simply. In truth, he’s pretty sure Rosa couldn’t. At least not with him. She’s been as much of a sibling to him as Kyle has been since they were kids. More than his own siblings. Rosa has been there for him through so much that he’s more than willing to give her as much grace as she needs.

“She said she asked you to write a song for her?”

“Yeah. And I know I should. She deserves it. And the second shot at a music career. I just–” Alex sighs, “I don’t know if I have it in me anymore.”

“Well,” Kyle says, putting a fork and a plate on the table in front of Alex before grabbing his own. “For what it’s worth, I think you should. And not because of what Rosa needs or deserves. It’s what you deserve.” Before Alex can interrupt, he explains, “I know you don’t want to go back to the industry, but, when you left it, I know you lost touch with a lot of your friends. And you deserve to get that back. Those friendships. Or new ones, if that’s what you want. I just– I don’t want to see you spend the rest of your life as a recluse just because some asshole told the world his version of your trauma.” He stops to smile at Alex, “And I know you don’t want to let Jesse Manes win.”

Alex laughs, picking up a piece of bacon and saying, “You’re right about that.”

***

Before the band broke up, Alex never had trouble coming up with lyrics for his songs. But now, he finds himself struggling. He has the start of a tune, but everything he comes up with is terrible.

He was working at Kyle’s house yesterday, but today he has to be at the cabin to let whoever Noah is sending inside and answer any questions they may have. So he’s not expecting to get very far today either.

He gets up when he hears the knock on the door and opens it to find a truly unfairly handsome man standing there, holding a box of tools. “Alex Manes?” he asks and it takes far too long for Alex to nod in response. “I’m Michael.”

“Nice to meet you,” Alex replies, finally offering his hand to Michael’s to shake.

Michael’s hand is warm and his grip oddly comforting and Alex maybe holds it for a moment too long before letting go, judging by the uncertain look on Michael’s face when he lets go and the way he runs his hand through those gorgeous curls.

“Um, the bathroom is just through there if you want to get started on it,” Alex gestures. “If you have any questions, I’ll be over there,” he points to the couch. “Trying to write some music.”

“It might get kinda loud. If you want me to come back later or something–”

“Honestly, the noise probably couldn’t hurt at this point,” Alex laughs.

Michael nods and Alex returns to the couch, trying to work on the song, but mostly getting distracted by Michael walking in and out of the cabin with tools and supplies, paying far too much attention to the way Michael’s jeans ride so low on his hips, the relaxed way he walks, and that damn belt buckle to do more than repeatedly strum the tune he’s already written.

Even when Michael is out of sight, though, busy working on installing bars in the bathroom, Alex can’t seem to get anywhere. It’s not Michael, after all, but him. After having his private problems aired to the entire world, he can’t seem to use them to write a single thing.

He finally just gives up, setting his guitar in its case and picking up his phone, turning his attention to his messages. Unsurprisingly, there are none. After all, he doesn’t really have any friends or family other than Kyle anymore. And that’s his own fault. He was more than happy to disappear from the public eye. He lost a lot of friendships when he cut the rest of the world off.

He’s just about to put his phone back down when he hears Michael singing something to the tune that Alex had been playing.

He gets up as quietly as he can, walking towards the bathroom, curious about what Michael is singing.

Once he can hear it clearly, he knows it’s good. Better, maybe, than anything Alex has written. And he can’t help but wonder why Michael is here, installing bars in his bathroom when he could be writing hits.

“That’s really good,” he finally says, leaning against the wall across from the bathroom door.

“Oh, shit,” Michael curses, dropping the bar he had been holding, looking back at him.

“I’m sorry. I just… I heard you singing and I– You’re very talented. Have you ever considered songwriting?”

“Once or twice,” Michael shrugs. “Long time ago.”

“Well, if you’re interested, I could actually really use your help. I’m trying to write a song for my friend, Rosa Ortecho, and–”

“Thanks for the compliments and everything,” Michael interrupts, tone cold, eyes looking almost pained. “But I’m just here to make this place accessible.”

“Oh. Okay,” Alex frowns. “Sorry for interrupting. I’ll let you get back to work.” He turns around and rushes back to the living room, trying not to think about the look on Michael’s face, trying instead to focus on his guitar and the song he’s been trying and failing to write.

***

Thanks for reading! Chapters 2 and 3 will follow later today!

[couchpotatoaniki]

Idol!ATEEZ: Their s/o secretly writes fanfics pt.2

A/N: This was a request from someone who wanted to read their reactions to dirty fanfics *wiggles brows* but cba coming up with more backstories, so this’ll be a continuation of the first reaction

Tag list: @lovelyrose014-blog​ sorry this took so long :((

WARNINGS: swearing, mature content, heavily suggestive

Part One

Kim Hongjoong:

Hongjoong made no effort to hide that he read your stories. It was as he promised; the first time he read them was not the last.

He’d been filling up his rare breaks with your works, powerful words contrasting your timid nature and no matter how many times he indulged himself in your crazy mind, Hongjoong never ceased to be amazed.

You had more sides to you than he ever could imagined.

Although, there was one thing he put off for quite some time now, and that would be reading your more popular fanfics. The fan favourites. After all, being the leader, he should know what his fans like, and as your boyfriend he should know what you crave.

Hongjoong was a smart guy despite the goofy act he put on--very similar to your intelligence and geeky-yet-quiet nature. He knew that you wanted to keep him away from the dark side of your account, not wanting to scare him away (which he would never let happen). Hence why he hadn’t gone on it since he wanted to respect your wishes to some extent.

Until now.

Hongjoong swears it was curiosity, nothing more, but deep down he knew. He still needed to see that side of you, the side you deem acceptable for a whole world of strangers to see but not him.

Drove him mad.

But he was still in denial as he chanted in his head that this was only for research purposes. Bullshit.

Late at night, when pretty much everyone had gone home and he still had some work left to do, Hongjoong decided to take a well-deserved break, lying on his sofa as he scrolled through his phone.

He was doing what he had planned--he was finally doing it and nothing made the adrenaline rush faster through his veins. He clicked on the one which had the most reads, the one that was the most popular among anything you wrote, and from the title, it appeared innocent enough.

Maybe this wasn’t the one...

Then again, you were adamant that he never read it.

“Never hurt to try...” Hongjoong mumbled, despite being the only one in the sound-proof room. He clicked on it, anticipation making him restless.

Long chapter, as usual, and everything started out fine enough. No sign of anything, nothing suggestive at all.

What was the big deal about?

The next few chapters were of a similar feel. Sweet, gentle, fluffy. But he couldn’t put his phone down, something about this story had him...unsettled. It was nothing like your usually ones--with sadistic characters and an intricate plotline.

No. This had him slightly confused. It felt too kind.

Then he carried on. And then he realised.

That was exactly your intention.

The filter you had put over the first few chapters was slowly startling to peel away, into something more twisted.

Hongjoong buzzed off this, knowing exactly that the earlier chapters were a trap, a false sense of security. How you managed to poison every reader slowly, like your words were mercury.

By the time he got to the first smut chapter in the series, he was already consumed, work forgotten . Every word felt like it sucked out a part of his soul, and the heavy themes in the scenes had him in an uncomfortable situation of rather tight jeans.

Right now, all Hongjoong wanted was you. He needed you. To do all those things you wrote, to be there with him and feel the things he was feeling.

Luckily, you were always awake at this time of night.

Just a phone call away.

Park Seonghwa:

Although he loved your shower time, there was one habit that Seonghwa didn’t like and that was you leaving your notebooks everywhere. It made his daily cleaning harder than it should’ve been.

Never did he look through them, caring too much about not invading your privacy (save for a few months ago where he accidently found out about your fanfic account on AO3). But today was a stressful day already.

All he wanted right now was to lie down with you and watch some cheesy romcoms, accompanied by some snacks. Hongjoong, ever the perfectionist, was under more stress than usual and that meant all the other members were too.

Seonghwa was the nurturing mother, and even he felt like he lacked the energy to be as such with the way things were going right now--a comeback just around the corner.

So, yes, the tall boy was quite peeved today. He needed his charger. He needed you. But you were taking your damn time in the shower and he had to pick up all your damn notebooks from the most random places.

What even was it about these notebooks that you had to buy--or try to buy--a new one every time you entered a shop? Seonghwa never understood your love for them as he had only linked the devilish little thing to his work, where Hongjoong would be composing or writing lyrics.

The last thing he needed right now was something to remind him of his job.

The stress continued to build as this argumentative thoughts accumulated in his head, causing him to drop the hardback in his hands. “Fuck’s sake,” he growled, too pissed off at the moment to notice that your book had oh-so-conveniently opened up.

When he did, however, his fiery anger cooled down at the page, which had a few words on it. Luckily for him, your handwriting was fairly neat (unlike your normal habits) so he could read your little notes.

Phrases, sentences, ideas, the plot line in general, that’s what he got from a first glance. Maybe he could have a peek, seeing as though he was exerting a lot of energy recently.

The words, the plot, everything on that page was something he did not expect. It was smut.

Surely his innocent sweetheart wouldn’t be writing those, right? He gave you the benefit of the doubt when he found out about your fanfics. But you were a sweet girl, and he had always thought you mind was as pure as your heart was.

Then again, no one’s heart is truly pure, and it wasn’t the first time you had been tainted by him.

His eyes scanned your words, finding that it was somewhat vanilla and gentle.

A sigh escaped past his lips when he found that you were still his soft-hearted princess.

Then he noticed it was an old entry. Flicked through the pages and saw that the smut scenes progressively got more frequent and dabbled a little more in the dark side of things. 

His heart plummeted. Not just because your innocence was slowly peeling away, but because he too found himself getting a little interested by it. Especially one of the last entries of that notebook, where he found himself blushing hard enough to turn his normal skin to resemble that of rubies.

Yet, he couldn’t stop.

That was until he heard your voice yelling, "Seonghwa!"

Eyes like those caught in headlights, his large hands shut the book with lightning speed. But you had already caught him snooping.

"What are you doing with my notebooks?" You cheeks a dusty rouge from both the hot water and embarrassment, you snatched away the book from his hands.

"N-Nothing! It fell and opened up and I just..." He sighed, afraid that he'd already broken your trust. "I'm really sorry..."

Exhaling softly when you saw Seonghwa looking like some sort of scolded puppy, you reached on your tiptoes to ruffle his hair. Calms him down a little.

“What,” you cleared your throat to rid your voice of fear, “what did you read?”

Now how was he going to play this? Was he going to lie and say it was only one page, or would he say that he had a peruse through the whole thing? As you had caught him already, it would not be a bad idea to tell the truth. “Um...bits and bobs. Just skipped through, really. I’m sorry.”

Smiling softly, albeit a little awkwardly, you patted his shoulder comfortingly. “It’s fine, I just... didn’t... expect you to... find out this way.”

He chuckled nervously. “Well, I’ve know for about two weeks now, about your... writing.”

“What?!”

Jeong Yunho:

One problem that you have, is that now Yunho knew you wrote fanfics, you became sloppy with hiding it. Not like there was a real need to because--as mentioned--he knew about it. How you loved to write thrillers and suspense and all there strange wacky things you’d find on a documentary about dangerous people.

Though that didn’t mean you never wrote other things as well.

Your works were obviously for a certain age and above (not like the warnings you put matter because the underage ones read it anyway), so writing the occasional smut was normal for you.

In fact, you were comfortable with it. Your personal experience with Yunho, combined with the ones you read online, all fuelled your creativity. Unfortunately, now that you became more open, Yunho had more opportunities to read what you wrote.

Not like it mattered much, you thought, because the words in your google docs were pretty much ineligible from the phrases only you could decode.

Sadly, when it came to smuts (what you wanted in them and what you didn’t), there wasn’t really a way to hide what you were talking about.

So when your tall and rather innocent boyfriend took a sneak peak at your latest entry, he was smacked in the face with the bullet points on there:

Fake dating AU

Cunnilingus

Blindfolds

Size kink

Hand kink

Sir kink

Power play

Complacent sub

(Because for some goddamn reason, every Yunho smut I’ve seen had either a hand kink or size kink...not that I’m complaining tho--)

Was this the stuff you were into? Because he certainly never never knew it. Your sex life with him had been somewhat vanilla due to the fact it only recently started and both of you were still a little too shy to branch out and dabble in other things yet.

His only thoughts until he next saw you were about this. If you were channelling your frustrations into your writing, then he could help you, right? After all, he wasn’t against trying this stuff out. It was a learning experience he was willing to go through. For you.

So when you came back from work, he sat you down on the bed, very nervous with his large hands engulfing your own. Concern would be a drastic understatement.

“Y/N?” You hummed in reply, now thoroughly scared. “I just wanted to let you know... that I’m not afraid of...expanding our experiences and neither should you be.”

Your heart dropped into the abyss of your stomach. “Y-Yunho, are you breaking up with me?”

“Wait, what?” The confusion of this situation seemed rather familiar. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I just...” he bit his lip, still quite shy. He really didn’t know how to say this outright.

So he showed you instead.

As your eyes fell on the document of your plan for the next smut scene you had to write, your face dropped. Horror was evident in every part of your expression and he could see that.

“Yunho, I--”

“Look, there’s nothing wrong with you wanting to try some of this,” he said, before bashfully looking out the same window you had when you had been discovered. “Besides... I wouldn’t object.”

Now that the both of your faces were redder than roses, the air had become slightly more...still and heavy.

“Listen, Yunho, just so you know, I don’t often write my own preferences. But I suppose trying new things is a bad idea...”

Kang Yeosang:

Almost a year had passed since your boyfriend had found out about your writing (through your clumsy cousin, no less) and you were careful as to what you showed him.

He often helped you through tough times like writer’s block, and understood your strange little habits. Even threw you an idea once in while whenever you were struggling to think of something or even took you out--restaurants, landmarks, whatever would help.

Yeosang was looking after you.

But now? Now, he pampered you.

That had you lowering your guard. He was being so kind, so why not let him read more?

Here’s ‘why not’:

Because he kept pushing his limits. Yeosang and you never had done anything, despite the fact that both of you were living together--by your request, since you had been in quite a few bad relationships where sex was a major factor. So, for the past two years, Yeosang had been alone in his endeavours.

All his intention was to find out what you were into. That was it, he swears. Thought it might at least curb the growing need to have you begging under him--or above him--just have a small glimpse as to what was in store. Maybe even have them as company when he really needed you.

Mission Impossible, is what this felt like, buttering you up, making you feel safe and comfortable (this came naturally since he always wanted you to feel this way with him, horny or not). You were like a fortress, always giving him more but not the stuff that he needed.

So he tried the same tactic he used to get you confess.

Truth or Dare (alone, obviously).

“Seriously? Last time we did it like this, you found out my rather embarrassing secret.”

“Just answer,” he pushed, watching you carefully as you climbed into bed next to him.

“Okay... truth,” you mumbled as you buried your body between his arm and chest.

“How about ‘dare’ this time?”

Your lips released a tired chuckled. “That’s not how this works, Yeosang...” But after a long few minutes of silence, you caved into his request. “Okay, fine. Dare,” you grumbled after saying something along the lines of, “if you wanted me to do something, then just ask.”

His lips brushed against the lobe of your ear, sending electric shocks down your spine. “I dare you to send me one of your smut fics.”

‘Surprised’ wasn’t really the word you would use to describe the immense shock that hit you like a train. “No.”

“Can’t go back on a dare.”

“But that’s even more embarrassing than having you read my normal fanfics...”

“No, it isn’t. Not to me, at least.”

“Yeosang,” you whined but as it became more and more clear that he would not give up as time passed on, you caved once more. Hesitant, you pulled out your phone to scroll through your works. What was the best one to send to him, you had no idea. “Can I at least ask why?”

“Because I want to get to know you more. All of you...” That one sentence had you more excited than you’d be willing to admit.

After all, it wasn’t just Yeosang who felt alone at nights (and sometimes days) for the past two years. Arguably, it was harder for you since you used to be very...active. Hence why you had such a selection to choose from right now--it was your outlet.

Perhaps it would be best to let him see the one that had you more bothered than anything after writing it--since he wanted to get to know that side of you as well.

Finally making a decision, you handed over your phone with bated breath. What would he think? Would he be weirded out? Would he not be into any of it?

For the boy, however, it was a completely different story; he was too into it. The more he read on, the worse his boner got until he looked physically uncomfortable.

Immediately seeing the discomfort on his face, it was as if your worries became reality. Hand reached out to snatch the phone from his hand but his reflexes were much quicker than yours, pulling the slab away as he kept on reading.

By the time he finished, his breathing was heavy and ragged.

This, sadly, had only made his situation worse. Only purpose this served was to make him crave you even more. Certainly didn’t help to have you leaning over him, soft, bra-less chest beneath thin, stretchy cotton of your shirt against his bare arm, trying to see if he was alright. Definitely had you concerned seeing his pained self.

“Are you okay?”

“Not really,” he humourlessly chuckled, “didn’t know it would affect me as much as it had...”

For some reason, you leaned further down and kissed him. Whether it was because of seeing his hooded eyes or feeling the tension in his muscles as he restrained himself against your body, you didn’t care. Relief was the first thing you felt, knowing that he was just as frustrated as you when you wrote it.

No, he was worse. You could tell by the feverish movement of his mouth against yours. You could tell by the harsh grip he had on your waist. You could tell by the stiffness poking your thigh.

Yeosang pulled away with as much willpower as he could muster, while your lips chased after his. “N-No, we can’t, remember?”

Huffing, you were thoroughly pissed off at the promise you made two years ago with him when you first started out dating. “Yeosang, look at me.”

His gaze was even more reluctant, knowing very well that it would be much more difficult to have the eyes he loved so much staring back at him with as much lust as he had clouding them. But he listened.

“That promise was there so I could get to know you and see if I want to commit to this relationship, long-term, and we’ve had two years to think it--which is long enough for me.” Each hand cupped his cheeks, pulling him closer for a peck since you couldn’t handle being that touch starved anymore. “So, screw me.”

Yeosang didn’t need to be told twice.

Choi San:

It had been a little over a month and San had still not dropped his admiration. Didn’t look as if that was going to change anytime soon either, especially with one of your recent updates.

Your current story had a lot of pent up sexual tension and all your readers (your boyfriend being no exception) were at the point of begging in the notes of each update.

Finally, you decided to take mercy on all the poor folks and finally write that one scene which had them crying with gratefulness at the end.

As it was a long-awaited scene, it had to live up to high expectations. While you could do the most tooth-rotting fluff ever, that wasn’t your style. This scene needed to fit the vibe of your series so the whole bit flowed nicely.

The problem was, everything you wrote was ‘too much’. Too much fluff. Too much kink. Too much basicness. Too much weirdness. Too much awkwardness. Too much cringiness.

Unfortunately, this put you in a bit of a pickle and you were close to losing your damn mind. On the other hand, San--the caring lover he was--had noticed. Wanted to do something nice for you, not just because he could clearly tell it was a bad case of writer’s block and he wanted to you to write more things he could read, but because it hurt him a little inside to see you this frustrated.

Requested a day of, which he got considering how hard he had been working, an spent that day as your personal servant. First up was breakfast in bed--fried egg (sunny side up), beans, buttered toast, hash browns and a tall glass of cold, hand-squeezed orange juice. Not to mention a shirtless San in plaid cotton pants, the only coverage his torso receiving was the pink apron he had on.

Kissed you on the forehead and told you to take your time, then get ready or a day out while he made lunch.

The next two meals went by in a similar fashion, where he had put so much love and care for everything to be perfect for you. Your favourite sandwich and a fruit salad, water and a chocolate chip cookie before a walk in the park where you both fed the ducks in one of the nearby lakes.

Later was dinner--arguably the best one out of them all. Steak with roast potatoes, and steamed vegetables (much to San’s dislike, but he withstood it for you). The day’s activity had you more than tired, cheeks aching slightly from smiling too much. Then again, you didn’t even notice because all you could think about was how lucky you were to land yourself such an amazing boyfriend.

Even after dinner, he continued to treat you like the royalty you were in his eyes. Offered a nice massage to relieve the past week’s tension all pent up in your poor muscles. It was innocent enough...

Until it wasn’t any more.

Despite the cloths thrown about everywhere on the bed, neither of you had motioned to clean up and San had instead opted to run you a bubble bath. Scented candles and all. It was more relaxing than you had imagined it to be, and by the time your face rested on San’s now-clothed torso--both of you wrapped snuggly up--you fell asleep.

The man loved the sight, and for once, he actually enjoyed running after you, making sure your every need was fulfilled whether you expressed it or not.

Because throughout the day, you were the happiest he had seen in a while, and all his efforts let up to this sight: you cuddled up close with that beautiful, enchanting smile faintly on your plush lips that he had so gently attacked not two hours ago.

He found himself loving you even more; a pleasant surprise as he had thought his cup was close to overflowing.

Two days later, he found himself falling even deeper when you had finally posted your latest chapter. San found himself grinning by the end of it--a little turned on, but more happy than anything.

Because San’s magic had worked. Cured your painful writer’s block since the words simply flowed as you typed the scene that had been causing you hell.

And whole chapter was awfully similar to that special day when San decided to take care of you.

Just tweaked a little so it would be more smut than it was fluff, adding just the right amount of sweetness that allowed your story to continue to flow perfectly.

Which was why San had been more joyous than usual the past week.

You were a perceptive person so you caught the change in his usual demeanour rather quickly. The source of it, however, was beyond you (he was good at hiding his knowledge of your secret). Any reason you tried to pin down on him was a little off.

Stress? No, he was too happy for that. Upcoming event? None that you knew of, and he shared everything of importance with you. Feeling happy just because? San was the more emotional out of the two of you and none of his moods lasted this long.

So what was it?

It was frustrating to say the least, but your boyfriend wasn’t letting it out. And you don’t think he ever will.

“Oh well,” you mumble, “can’t be that bad if he’s so happy...”

Song Mingi:

The boys had made a pact when they began to read your stories: no reading smuts with the group. This was fairly easy since they would normally be oneshots and you generally weren’t one to write them often into your series. On the odd occasion you did, you often put up a warning and explained straight after if there were any important bits.

All in all, very easy to avoid.

Mingi was a gigantic baby, and with babies, comes curiosity. A sense of need to know what’s happening. An insatiable thirst for knowledge and experience. Suppose what is trying to be said here is, is that Mingi wanted to read the explicit stuff you wrote.

What went on inside that wonderous brain of yours, he wanted to find out. But he couldn’t do that with the boys, nor did he want to. No chance in hell he was gonna be caught with an awkward boner.

Never would he live that one down.

So his plan commenced at night, when everyone in the dorms were fast asleep, he opened up his phone.

Now would normally come the dilemma of what to read, but Mingi is not that patient; as mentioned before, he is a giant baby. The first post he found that fit his criteria was the one that he read. Coincidently, that was result of your ‘experimental’ ones.

Using metallic things wasn’t something you had tried yet with Mingi, but you though you’d take it for a test run through your work to at least see it clearly how it would run if something like that was to happen. Sometimes, you found, it’s makes more sense to write it out rather to keep in your head.

On the other hand, Mingi didn’t really know that your writings stemmed from mild curiosity rather than what your really into (not that you would particularly mind trying some of it out). In his head, this was what you wanted to do.

He’d be lying if he said that the idea wasn’t much of a turn on, and the time he  spent trying not to make a sound loud enough to wake up the other members would prove that. To him, this is was your wish and he would gladly comply to it.

The next day, he decided to run along with the theme, but to also add in a few twists of his own. You often liked that, both in and out of the bedroom.

Went out to buy some new rings for you, larger ones decorated with pretty gems for his pretty baby (even though he was one himself). Handcuffs, too, were ordered online, and a silver-chain choker--he made sure to double check it was safe to use. Next up was a little metal ball--he got this idea from the pokey challenge and something called the ‘passion fruit kiss’ on snapchat. Either way, he was excited to try it.

Babies like Mingi, as mentioned, have little patience and so he wanted to try it out as soon as possible, so the moment everything came, he quickly sterilised everything and waited for you to come home.

Made sure each metal piece was cold to the touch by keeping it in the fridge, and had a rolled up black silk tie stuffed in his pocket to act as a makeshift blindfold.

Sensory deprivation was the ‘twist’ he wanted to put on, since you both had tried something similar before with ice cubes and that went quite well...until it became too cold for Mingi’s mouth and that plan had to be scrapped sooner--hence fridge, for a little bit of coldness.

When you finally arrived, he looked like an excited puppy, and you had no idea why. Until he spun you around and tied a soft cloth over your eyes. “Mingi, I’m really tired and I just--”

“Shhhhh,” Mingi lulled right next to your ear, warm breath fanning over the nape of your neck which felt more sensitive than usual, “trust me?”

Sigh escaping past your lips, because yes, of course you trusted him. And now that you felt slightly more awake from his action, maybe you were willing to hear him out. ”Baby, what are you doing?”

Chuckling that followed your question was deeper than normal. Had it always been like that or was it your mind playing tricks on you? Either way, he didn’t answer and all you had heard was the fridge opening.

“Seriously, baby, what are you doing?” Now you were just nervous, all intentions of a lazy evening down the drain as your heart sped up.

It closed, and shortly after your lips were met with his, a faint taste of strawberry attached to them. Then something smooth and cold slipped past from him to you.

The metal ball was passed between the two of you in a playful game of which only your boyfriend knew the rules of.

When he could tell your guard was down and now you became a little more comfortable, Mingi slowly took your hands behind your back.

You had not paid attention, but you should have. Cold, tight restraints pressed against your skin, shockwaves making you gasp from the low temperature. But Mingi kept on going, kissing you to ease your tension.

Two metal things, so there must be a third, right? You knew about people’s strange obsession with threes so you completely expected another cold metal object to come into play. But the question was, what?

You soon found out when a thick chain choker brushed against your neck, clasping around it snuggly. This was it. This was the third and final one. And your suspicions seemed correct when you had not felt another chilly accessory grace your skin.

You wouldn’t have, not when the coldest of all the items--the rings--were being slipped onto your boyfriend’s fingers. You were in for a surprise in just a few moment.

Needless to say, there was only one thought swirling around in your head.

Maybe he isn’t that much of a baby.

Jung Wooyoung:

Ever since Wooyoung found out your fanfics were not about him, but his favourite K-Pop band, BTS, he had been...difficult. Moping around, trying to play for your attention a lot more than normal, not letting you have some peace of quiet with your computer.

It was almost as if he was jealous. You knew how needy the boy could be, wanting skinship with you more than he did with San. Knowing that you were fawning over men that weren’t him had certainly done something to him.

But Wooyoung knew you were no-nonsense. The complete opposite of him. It was exactly why he fell for you, and it was exactly why he wasn’t being as petty as he wanted at the moment.

He knew deep down you were his and he was yours.

Then again, that still didn’t stop him from feeling jealous, and had even gone so far as to decrease the amount he listened to BTS’ songs--especially around you.

At first, you didn’t notice the change since Wooyoung was often spontaneous so his behavioural pattern was difficult to decipher. Eventually there came a point where the clinginess increased so much, you couldn’t feign ignorance anymore.

Looking back, maybe you should not have burst his bubble and let him think that your fanfics were about him... Actually, no; either way, the moment he found out about your hobby, it was going to be hell. But now you just feel bad.

Yet, you don’t feel bad enough to stop. You never actually fantasised about being with them--it was just fun to write about. Clearly, he didn’t understand.

Your boyfriend seemed to be at his tipping point when he came back to you after a long day of dance practices that went sideways, typing away intently on your computer.

This was his time. You usually spend time with Wooyoung when he came back, but you were too busy to comfort him in his desperate time of need. Too busy with fantasising about Taehyung’s large hands or Namjoon’s dimpled smile.

Wooyoung was as cute as Hoseok and Jungkook. He had a unique laugh like Seokjin and was as flirty as Jimin.

He had all your favourite qualities in a partner so why spend time thinking about other men? He was literally right there, begging for your attention and yet, now it seemed as if you gave him none (which wasn’t true since the only thing you’ve done is become less secretive about writing).

When his attempts at distracting you from writing had fail, he tried to see what exactly it was you were writing about. Unfortunately, you had tried to hid it from his sight; the only thing that helped in doing was pissing him off even further.

Only after a tough struggle did he finally see what you had been so focused on that you had neglected him.

It was more BTS fanfic, but this one was worse. This one had him fuming--skin hot red and ears pooling out steam. This one was smut.

It was about no other than Yoongi, and by God, was it a rough.

That was how you liked it, and so did Wooyoung. Probably why he was so angry while reading about mirror sex with one of his fellow idols; you were just twiddling your thumbs in the corner, not sure about how badly your boyfriend was going to burst.

Wooyoung, no matter how mad he was, he had to admit... it did turn him on. Although, he was a prideful boy--not liking how you thought about others and more importantly, how threatened he felt while reading it.

Suddenly realising that it wasn’t enough just being all the perfect parts you liked (even if it came naturally to him).

He had a point to prove; Wooyoung could go beyond your wildest fantasies--and boy was it a wild fantasy.

Throwing your phone haphazardly somewhere (making you wince in prayer that it was not broken), your boyfriend gripped you by the wrist and dragged you across the room. You had barely enough time to realise what he was doing, only feeling a cold surface against your back as his lips ravished yours.

At some point, he broke away--lips swollen and slightly more red than normal. To say the sight had not affected you more than you already were would be a lie.

Still not giving you enough time to speak, Wooyoung turned you around so you could finally see what he had you pressed against.

A mirror.

If an idea of what he was planning hadn’t dawned on you, having his fingers tug at your clothes certainly gave you one now. His free hand had clasped around your jaw, making you look right into your reflection, seeing how your boyfriend’s lips were dangerously close to your ears as he looked at you dead in the eye through the mirror.

“Let me show you that I can be better than your imagination. Let me show you that you need to think about no one but me. Let me show you how good you’ll feel and who is the sole reason behind it.”

Yes, Wooyoung has all your favourite qualities in a partner while exceeding all expectations. That’s why you’re dating him.

Choi Jongho:

Ever since the release of your first movie and publication of the book it was based on, your career had blossomed. Finally, you quit the job that had been draining the life out of you to work full time at the publishing company.

Everyone around you could tell you were much happier, and the one who noticed it the most was Jongho.

Sure, your eyes were less sunken in, your cheeks more red, your step more bouncy. But he could feel that you changed on the inside too.

Your smile didn’t feel so forced after you came back from work and he had asked you how the day was. Now, your boyfriend found himself talking less and listening more to what you had to say.

If there was an expression more powerful to describe how he loved this happier version of you, he would use it in a heartbeat.

Sure, there were still times when the both of you couldn’t hang out as much as you would like to, but that was always in the job description, and the both of you were more than happy with it as long as the bed had both of you in it at the end of the day, both metaphorically and literally.

Then came along your second movie deal of a completely different story. In fact, it was based upon a movie you had watched at the time, and you hated it so much that you simply redid the entire thing.

In fact, it had irked you to the point no one could even tell it was based off of something since you had changed so much of it. However, there were still concepts you kept in the story--intimate scenes, for example (even if they too were completely changed).

You wrote such concepts before, and you would continue to do so since it was just interesting to write. Jongho, however, did not know about it.

At all.

So once your second movie was released, he was in for a surprise.

It was miraculous how terrible your memory was, since you had forgotten that you had not told him about the scene that would come up as you both watched it at home just before it’s release in the cinemas.

‘Surprise’ wasn’t really the word Jongho would use when it did come up, nor would it be ‘shock’. He was... mildly curious? Not that either... Well, all he knew that whatever he was feeling was not overwhelming.

“Did you know they changed this scene?” you spoke up.

“Really?”

Humming, you nodded your head. “They said the original scene was... Let’s just say they thought it was ‘too much’.” Then you scoffed under your breath. “Don’t know why they thought that though. It was fairly vanilla. Just some wall sex is all,” you confessed.

Now he felt a little overwhelmed. But he was mainly amused. “I don’t remember doing that with you.”

“Hmm? Oh... that’s because we didn’t.”

Chuckling under his breath, he cocked his head to the side, the paused scene in the background long forgotten. “Have you ever wanted to try it?”

“Once upon a time. Suggested it to my ex once before but he couldn’t lift me up since I was ‘way too heavy’,” you recalled with air quotations. “Didn’t bother trying after that.” You laughed at the memory, finding it to be hilarious back then and even now.

But your boyfriend on the other hand had not. In fact, he was no longer amused.

He was pissed.

It wasn’t about the fact that you had mentioned your ex--he never felt even remotely threatened by him. It was because he had called you heavy. He called his precious darling ‘heavy’. And you just laughed.

That was who you were--no matter how mean another person was being to you, you took it as a joke and moved on. You saw no point in dwelling over the bad, and that was one of the many genuine things he had fallen for. This time was different; it annoyed him.

Sure it might have been a dumb little memory for you, yet simply hearing about it had his blood boiling.

“Get up.”

“Wha--why?” The dark look in his eye had your lips sealing within the second. As if on autopilot, your body stood from the sofa you two were so comfortably perched on.

He followed you up, wrapping his hands around the back of your thighs, which only meant one thing. “Jongho--no. You won’t be able to.”

“Am I or am I not the strongest man you’ve ever met?”

“You are, but--”

“‘But’ I don’t care.” Forcefully, he lifted you up as you yelped, legs wrapping around his waist. “See? I can pick you up completely fine.”

Scanning his face, you saw that what he said was true. He picked you up as if you were as light as a feather, no tension in his neck, face, or arms to suggest he was having a hard time either.

It had you leaning against him, forehead touching forehead, laughing even more than you did before. Smile once again etched on his face, Jongho pecked your lips, walking slowly with you in his arms.

“Now shush and let me fuck you against the wall.”

[damn-behzinga]

Heart Pains

Ethan Payne Centric

summary - Ethan has a lot of things that he wanted to do before he hit thirty, having a heart attack and almost dying was not one of them.

warnings - heart attack, talks of death, hospitals, angst

request? - heyy if you don’t mind could you please do more angsty ethan centric fics with the boys please thank youuu i love your writing toooooo much

     -Can u do an angsty ethan imagine with the rest of the sidemen, it can be about anything x

     - the way you write for ethan has me FERAL pls do more for him !!!!!

Ethan had been feeling off all day but brushed it off, instead putting on a smile as they shot another Sidemen football video. They were all grouped round for a two hour shoot that would work out to three videos. He had been tossing and turning all night, too uncomfortable to sleep so he was overwhelmed with fatigue.

The shoot had to go over their original time and Ethan was shaking the last of his adrenaline finally wearing down. They were packing away as JJ suggested they go drinking. Ethan wanted to throw up. Suddenly, something was very wrong.

Ethan had stopped as the guys walked across the field. He reached and gripped his chest as his breath suddenly left him. He was wheezing, breath escaping as he tried to suck breaths in. Pain rain from his back, spreading across his shoulders. He let out a groan, loud enough that it caught attention from one of their cameramen.

“Ethan?” Kon called and everyone turned to see Ethan fall to his knees, clutching his chest.

“Help!” Ethan whined out in pain as the group ran over.

“Someone call an ambulance!” Josh called and their producer pulled out her phone.

“Ethan, what’s going on?” Josh asked and Ethan just let out a wheeze as a response. “Okay, okay, let’s lay you down.” Josh and JJ helped Ethan lie down.

“Can someone get some water?” Tobi yelled as Ethan groaned in pain. One of their friends started looking through one of the bags and pulled out a bottle.

“Ethan, we need to get fluids in you.” Vik instructed, holding the bottle to Ethan’s mouth.

Ethan shook his head, his jaw going slick. “No, jaw, stop.�� “What-?” Vik asked before Ethan started gagging. “Hey, Ethan we’re going to roll you over so you can throw up.” The pain bubbled through him as he was rolled over. He threw up as his friends moved back, giving him space to get everything out of the system.

“The person says he might be having a heart attack, an ambulance is on the way.” Simon explained.

“A heart attack? He’s twenty five not sixty!” JJ exclaimed. “Ethan!” Harry suddenly screamed and they all looked and found Ethan had fallen unconscious. It was like everyone had just been slapped because immediately Josh and Tobi were checking for a pulse as Vik tried to see if Ethan was breathing.

“Fuck, he’s not breathing.” Vik yelled.

“I can’t feel a pulse! Tobi?” Josh looked up and Tobi just shook his head.

“Someone perform CPR!” Their producer yelled.

Simon pushed the guys out the way and started performing CPR, thankful for the training he had to do for football.

“Come on you son of a bitch. We were supposed to film tomorrow for my main channel. You can’t be blowing me off now!” Simon was continuing the chest compressions as much as he could, ignoring the tears running down his face. He reached thirty compressions and pulled back as JJ got ready to take over whilst Vik blew deep breaths into Ethan’s mouth.

JJ swiftly took over, muttering the lyrics to ‘Stayin’ Alive’. “Mate, you got this. Come on. You are one stubborn man, you could at least be stubborn about this. Fuck you, Ethan, you never make this shit easy for me, huh?” He let out a chuckle but it was thick with clear tears. Josh blew breaths in as Tobi took over, Harry preparing to breathe into Ethan by holding his head.

He was pressing deeply, desperately trying to see his friend laugh or cry or just blink. Two paramedics were running over and skidded beside Ethan, pulling out a defib and an oxygen mask. They wiped down his chest before placing the pads on his chest.

Harry was crying, small sobs escaping him as the medics performed CPR before the shock was ready. Suddenly, the defib called for everyone to stand back and the medics backed of as Ethan jolted, the shocks trembling through him. The medics continued CPR for another minute when Ethan started jerking, his arm shooting out. The medic stopped the CPR and started checking over him.

“Ethan? Hello, can you hear us?” One of the medics asked and Ethan let out a groan, voice muffled by the mask. The medics were immediately on call with the second ambulance who were going to come and collect Ethan to send to a cardiologist.

When the second pair of medics arrived, Ethan was breathing on his own, his breaths still wheezy. The friends backed up as they loaded Ethan onto the stretcher and carried him into the ambulance. Josh spoke to them, explaining everything to them as they attended to Ethan in the ambulance.

After a minute or two of the medics providing basic first aid to Ethan when they drove to the hospital. The group followed in their own cars, someone was on the phone to Ruth but with the chaos it was hard to identify who was doing what.

Ethan was rushed into the emergency room a few minutes before the guys managed to get to the waiting room. After ten minutes of waiting, the camera crew and producer packed up and left, asking for a call when they heard anything about Ethan.

They sat in silence as they waited for news on Ethan. They didn’t have anything to say. Ethan was young and yet had a heart attack, why? Sure, Ethan had been overweight and had his addictions in the past but he had quit. So, why now?

“Family of Ethan Payne?” The doctor asked, her voice making them jump up. “How is he?” Josh asked, wringing his hands together.

“He’s in a very fragile condition but he will be okay. The next 48 hours are very crucial in his recovery. He did have a heart attack as we initially thought. He’s going to be forgetful and probably ask you many questions without taking anything in.” The doctor noted. “But you have to wait until after twenty four hours to see him so we can monitor his heart. You say his mum is on her way?” “Yes, she lives an hour train ride away-” Harry stuttered out.

“You were there when his heart stopped for approximately three minuets which means he was dead, but within time and some therapy with a cardiologist, he will recover fully.” The doctor explained and Tobi let out a sob of relief. “You can see him but only for a couple minutes but in twenty four hours, you can see him for longer than thirty minutes. Do you have any questions?” “Yes, um, we were giving him CPR before the medics, did we hurt him?” JJ asked.

“He has a bruised rib but I advise you not to feel guilty. Without that CPR, your friend would have died. You did what you needed to do.” The doctor smiled softly. “You saved him.” The men all sighed with relief.

“Is in room 4, he’s hooked up and it looks scary but it’s saving him.” The doctor said. “I’ll leave you alone with him.” “Thank you.” Josh whispered as they all moved into the room.

Their breaths were taken as they saw Ethan attached to many machines, his breaths laboured as a nurse wrote his vitals down.

“You only get half an hour, okay? And then I’ll have to make you leave.” The men nodded and stood in silence when Ruth burst in, mascara running down her face.

“Oh my-” She sobbed. “My boy, my poor boy. You’re okay, mummy’s here now.” She kissed his cheek and ran her fingers through his hair.

“Ruth, we-” Tobi started and Ruth shook his head.

“It’s okay. You saved him.” Ruth let out a small sob. “You saved my boo.” It went quiet, the only noise being from the machine and the cries from Ruth.

“You know.” She whispered, causing each man to look at her. “Ethan never really had more family than me. My parents died when he was a toddler, his fake dad left, it was just us. But he’s not alone anymore, he has brothers now. He has a bigger family than he ever would have believed.” She let out a small smile and wiped away her tears.

“You have raised an amazing son.” Vik said softly and Ruth chuckled.

“Please, you guys have made him a man.” She smiled.

They began talking about Ethan and whatever stories they could remember about him. After thirty minutes they had to leave, walking out the hospital they started parting ways when JJ stopped.

“Did you want to stay with us tonight, Ruth? We can give you a lift in the morning.” He asked and Ruth smiled.

“I can’t impose, JJ.” She smiled.

“Please, we want you to.” He said. “You don’t have to waste money on a hotel or anything.” “If you insist.” Ruth said and Simon booked them an Uber.

The next morning, the group met up at the same time the next day. They let Ruth go in first and after a half an hour she came out and told them to go in. As they walked in, they were met with Ethan’s beaming but tired and pale face.

“Hey, fellas.” Ethan grinned tiredly.

“How are you feeling, mate?” Harry asked.

“Like I had a heart attack.” Ethan responded as the guys chuckled.

“What did they tell you about it?” Josh asked.

“I had like a block in my artery or some shit.” Ethan chuckled. “Hurt like a bitch you know.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Simon commented and Ethan started laughing before stopping to let in a wheezy breath.

“Are you okay?” Vik asked, moving to the door as if he was going to get the doctor.

“Yeah, just - fucking breathless. It’ll get better but for now it’s just annoying.” Ethan explained. “Six weeks of rest for you.” Josh chuckled. “That’s so long.” Ethan groaned.

“And then you have to go to weekly appointments!” JJ smirked sarcastically.

“Oh my- you have to be joking!” Ethan groaned louder.

“It will make your recovery quicker, mate.” Tobi scolded lightly. “Jide, stop being a dickhead.”

“I heard you guys did some CPR, saved my arse.” Ethan winked.

“Yeah, and with this attitude, I’m regretting it already, lad!” Harry laughed loudly.

“Oh you can fuck right off.” Ethan flipped him off, blinking slowly as he grew tired.

[nicknellie]

This one kind of snuck up on me, not gonna lie, and I didn’t have anything prepared, but I I still wanted to thank everyone for getting me to 400 followers! I know I say every time how much this fandom means to me, but I really can’t thank you enough. I wanted to write my usual missing scene celebration, so I had a little think and remembered a little detail that has always bugged me so I wrote about it. It’s a little shorter than normal but I’m still pretty happy with it, I really hope you like it, thanks again!

I Think It Said Everything

Julie hurried down to the studio, her mind and heart racing, overly aware that she was suddenly working against a time limit she hadn’t had before and if all this went wrong then there was a high chance that she could lose her best friend forever.

Telling Flynn the truth about the boys had been a desperate last-ditch attempt to salvage their friendship. Flynn had decidedly not taken it well. Julie knew that she really needed to provide solid proof that she wasn’t lying - because yes, Flynn probably would believe her once she met the guys, but there was always the chance that she wouldn’t.

She flung the studio doors open and saw her phantoms dotted around the room, Alex sat atop the piano, Reggie lounged carelessly on the couch, and Luke perched on the edge of his amp, a pen dangling from his mouth as he stared at a notebook. They each looked up at Julie as she came in.

“Julie,” Luke said happily, “are you here to join the band?”

“On one condition,” Julie replied. Luke positively beamed and nodded so hard that he almost fell off the amp. “I need you guys to help me get Flynn to be my friend again. I told her you guys are real and she didn’t believe me, so I told her I could prove it. Will you help me?”

Before Julie had even finished talking, the guys were moving around the studio, getting ready. Julie watched as Alex sat himself primly behind his drumkit, twirling his drumsticks, Reggie hoisted his bass over his shoulder and plugged it into the amp, and Luke hurried towards her, songbook held out.

“We can play the poem you wrote that Reggie and I turned into a song,” Luke gushed excitedly. “Look, check it out, I wrote all the lyrics down as well as the chords. You can play them on piano and then we’ll poof in at the chorus.”

“And we found some cool high-techy stuff,” Reggie added, pointing towards a stack of synths and drum pads in the corner. “If you know how to use them it would sound awesome!”

Julie smiled, picking up a drum pad and blowing off the dust. “I think I remember,” she said, examining it. “My mom taught me how to use them when I was little but I only did it once or twice. I’m sure I can figure it out.”

“Will it take long?” Alex asked. “How long do we have until Flynn gets here?”

“Um... about twenty-five minutes,” Julie said.

“That’ll be enough time for you to learn the song, right?” Luke said, sounding a little apprehensive. Julie waved a dismissive hand.

“It’ll be fine. As long as you’ve not changed any of the words from the original poem I wrote then I know it all anyway.”

The boys smiled in relief as Julie set up the machines by her keyboard. She gave the lyrics and the chords a quick once-over, then began playing. It sounded good - well, as good as a gross invasion of privacy could sound. But as annoyed as Julie was at Luke for going through her dreambox, she couldn’t deny that he had turned the poem into something spectacular. When the boys joined in at the chorus, improvising harmonies but still managing to blend them perfectly, she knew at once that there was no way this plan could fail.

They played the song a few times over, Alex helped Julie work out a basic rhythm she could loop on the drum pad, and soon enough they had sped through twenty of their twenty-five minutes. Julie ended her last note and beamed at the boys. They all grinned back.

“We sound awesome,” Luke exclaimed, high-fiving Reggie. He turned to Julie, face bright and excited. “When you officially join the band we’re going to blow up.”

Julie couldn’t help but smile proudly. 

“You’re sure this will be enough to convince Flynn to be your friend again?” asked Reggie, setting his bass down. “Because I was thinking that we could add a few finishing touches. Maybe an entire verse that’s just ‘I love you, Flynn’ over and over again?”

Nobody replied for a moment or two.

“Or,” Alex said eventually, “we could not do that exactly. Julie, do you have anything besides this song that really reminds you of Flynn that we could get into the performance somehow?”

Julie thought about it. The trouble was there were so many things that reminded her of Flynn, countless things even in the studio alone. The piano reminded her of Flynn, when they had sat there and sang along to their favourite songs as kids; the dartboard reminded her of Flynn because they’d once had to go to A&E after Carlos accidentally threw one that hit her forehead and Ray had panicked; even unimportant things like the stereo reminded her of Flynn because they had played music through it and danced when they were first trying to start their band, Double Trouble.

That was it.

“Double Trouble,” Julie said, looking to the guys excitedly, though they looked utterly baffled. “It was the band Flynn and I tried to start when we were little. I have a t-shirt she gave me!”

“Great,” Luke said, “go put it on!”

Julie felt her face fall. “I can’t. Flynn’s got it. And apparently it’s covered in betrayal.”

Reggie gave a low whistle. “She’s really mad at you, huh.”

“Well, that means I can’t go and get it,” Julie sighed. “She’ll ask why I need it and I want it to be a surprise.”

“One of us could go and get it for you,” Luke suggested. “I’ll go if you want. I’ll just poof to wherever she is, snatch it from her bag, and bring it back here.”

Alex looked sceptical. “Luke, you’re one of the least subtle people I know. There’s no point in you being invisible if you’re going to make it painfully obvious you’re there by - I don’t know - tipping the contents of her bag all over the floor while you look for it.”

“I could go,” Reggie offered, raising his hand. “I’m more subtle than Luke.”

Julie, Luke, and Alex just sent him flat, disbelieving looks. He looked between them, sighed, and put his hand down.

“I’ll go,” Alex said.

“You’re not exactly subtle either,” Luke protested. “Remember when you were trying to sneak out of my house one time and you somehow managed to set off the break-in alarm even though you were leaving?”

“That was one time,” Alex said, scowling. “You did the exact same thing about twenty times. I don’t know why your parents didn’t just buy a new alarm.”

“Arguments about who is more or less subtle can wait until later,” Julie interjected before Luke could say anything in response. ���For now, can we please focus on making sure the most important person in my life doesn’t ditch me forever?”

“Right, okay, yeah,” Alex said, shaking his head to get back on track. “I’ll do it. Okay?”

Luke and Reggie grudgingly gave murmurs of assent.

“Where is she?” Alex asked Julie.

“I don’t know, probably in the house somewhere. I’d check by the door for her bag if I were you, she usually puts it there with mine. The shirt should be near the top of her bag, near the eggs.”

Alex nodded, stood up, and poofed out. Luke raised an eyebrow.

“Eggs?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Julie sighed. She didn’t feel like explaining the whole thing. “Can we run through a few bits before she gets here?”

They played the chorus once more while they waited for Alex to get back. The song wasn’t perfect, but it was still pretty impressive in Julie’s very biased opinion.

Not long later, Alex poofed back in, the Double Trouble shirt in hand. He passed it to Julie, smiling triumphantly.

“Thanks, Alex,” Julie said, “you’re a life-saver.”

“Not really,” Reggie said. “Considering he’s dead, and so are we so he didn’t really save any of our lives.”

“Thank you, Reginald,” Alex deadpanned.

“What are you waiting for?” Luke prompted. “Go get changed, she’ll be here in, like, two minutes.”

Shooting the boys one last excited smile, Julie hurried up into the loft to change her shirt where they wouldn’t be able to see her. While she was doing this whole thing entirely for Flynn, she couldn’t deny that joining the band afterwards would definitely be an amazing added bonus.

[hawkthewintersoldier]

When the Numb3rs Add Up to = (U+m3) Part 1: Friendly Meetings

“What’ve we got?”

The scene was bright and vibrant… including the blood on the ground, which was a brilliant ruby shade. Don Eppes, one of the lead agents at the FBI in Los Angeles, was kneeling and inspecting a female corpse, who was staring blankly up at the sky.

“Female, mid-to-late 20s, blond hair with deep brown roots… brown eyes.” Megan said, kneeling with Don and pointing. “…Same M.O…. He wrote ‘Trick or Treat’ across her forehead after stabbing her to death… sexually assaulted…”

Don groaned, his eyes going up as he stood. “…Damn.”

“Don.” David called out, gesturing them to look over at the body. “…Look. No splatters… nothing to suggest that this happened here.”

“No. She’s like the others… he’s taking them somewhere else and killing them.” David said, sighing. “…By some miracle of God, are there any prints? Cameras around here?”

“…Uh, sorry Don. No.” Colby said carefully as Don rubbed his temples. “…Is Charlie coming out?”

“Yeah, he’s on the way…”

At that moment, a vehicle pulled up… and Charlie, Don’s brother, stepped out of the passenger side, a notebook in his hands. Don whipped his head up, then shook his head, pointing at the body and gesturing for it to be covered as he walked.

“Charlie!”

“Hey, Don…” Charlie said, his eyes focused on the clues from the last two victims. “…What can you tell me?”

“…She’s in the same age-range… has naturally brown hair that was bleached blond… brown eyes… same build…”

Charlie stared at him, then glanced around at the body that was being zipped into a bag. She was young enough to be a student of his… a fact that made him cringe. “You realize that this practically guarantees that these women were targeted… and this person could be after them for any number of reasons regarding their looks, ages, even some other detail we don’t know about yet. We know their ideal target, but not the WHY…”

“I know, Charlie… it’s why the FBI’s got another person on this with you… how HAS your conversations with J. been?” Don asked, curiosity on his face as Charlie smiled slightly.

“He’s very clever… helped me a bit on figuring out a formula for all of these variables that simplified things a bit more. They have to be more than a mathematician…” Charlie said as a woman off to the side nodded and came over, having overheard.

“…They are.” She said, then offered her hand as Charlie took it. “Special Agent Cameron Dodge.” She said as Charlie shook her hand, nodding. “…Myers is a criminology student as well as a mathematics major over at CalSci. We’re looking forward to trying to hire them once they’re out of school.” She said as Charlie tilted his head to the side.

“A criminology student?”

“And mathematics, yes. They studied YOUR work, actually, Professor Eppes…” Cameron smiled, watching the surprised look go across his face. “Made them want to combine the two. I think their thesis paper is going to be on the proposed benefits of mathematics on the crime scene.”

“Oh, wow.” Charlie said, his eyes widening as Cameron nodded.

“Mmhmm…”

“I was actually thinking that it might be time to bring this guy in to see everything we have face to face and work directly with you, Charlie…” Don said as Charlie nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Charlie said, his eyes on Cameron as she nodded.

“Fantastic… They’re usually working on equations in CalSci’s math wing… room 16A.” Cameron said as Don stared at her. “…I used to go to them to get my questions answered when your brother was unavailable.” Cameron explained as Charlie and Don both nodded. “…You may as well go ahead and find them.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that. I have to head back to CalSci anyhow…” Charlie said, smiling over at Don. “…See you.”

“Sure thing, Charlie.”

~*~

Charlie sighed as he headed through the halls of CalSci, a hand going through his curls tiredly as he glanced at the little piece of paper. He didn’t know much about this mystery mathematician he’d been working with the last few days, just that the FBI worked with them here and there, mostly by e-mail… but Agent Dodge said that she had worked with them personally before sending him to CalSci to get them… and they’re eccentric…

Don had just laughed, because he thought Charlie himself was eccentric… but Charlie never saw it as eccentric. He just… didn’t think like them. And that was ok. He saw the world more in numbers and equations than most did. Everything is numbers, after all…

“…Room 16A…” he muttered, glancing at each door as he walked. He knew every professor, minus a few new ones… but the students… some slid past him without him having met them… and the one he was meeting today was in that group. He never paid attention to memorizing names of students, just faces, but he had asked flat out if this J. Myers was a student of his… they’d said no, but they’d attended his lectures here and there. Apparently, face to face human interaction wasn’t a big thing for them, something Charlie understood. Big crowds weren’t his thing either.

“…J. Myers.” Charlie frowned, glancing at the door as he nodded. “…There. 16A.”

Walking in, he was expecting to find a mathematician at work…

What he FOUND… was a young woman with headphones on her head, her backside moving from side to side as her head bopped. Her hand reached out and grabbed a rice krispy treat off the table, her eyes not glancing over at all… An oversized plaid shirt hung loosely on her, unbuttoned in the front, with a black tank top beneath it, and pale blue jeans hugged her hips. He tilted his head to the side… glancing back at the paper, and he blinked.

“…Hello?”

She didn’t pay him a lick of attention, and that alone caused him to huff a bit and wave a hand.

“…Excuse me??”

Her mouth began mouthing lyrics, too quietly for him to hear… but he made out a few of them… and recognized the song as R. Kelly’s Ignition Remix… not a terrible song… but he wasn’t there to listen to music… or watch anyone dance to them.

Though… he had to admit… as she rolled her hips… she wasn’t terrible to look at… Her hands came up, fingers lacing through her hair before fluffing it as she moved, and he bit back a flush as he cleared his throat loudly.

Her head whipped around and she let out a shout of surprise, jumping from the shock of him seeming to appear out of nowhere. “OH MY GOD!” she yelped, then tugged her headphones off as he gave her a slightly bemused look. “W-WHAT’RE YOU DOING HERE?! WHO ARE YOU!?”

“Sorry… Professor Charlie Eppes… um, the FBI sent me, Agent Cameron Dodge told me that someone might be working on their formulas in here… but I guess they’re out.” Charlie sighed, his hands going into his pocket. “…Can you tell… um… J. Myers that I’m looking for them and that I’ll be in my office?” he asked as she nodded, her eyes wide. “Sorry to bother you in your… dance… session…” he snorted as she stared, then watched him turn.

He was quickly out the door… snorting under his breath… and he heard the sounds of chalk on a chalkboard. His sneakers squeaked as he stopped, a frown on his face as he made an about face and quickly walked back in.

There was the girl… headphones back on, her head bopping and that treat she’d picked up before now in her mouth… but she was working at the board. She was quickly writing out a formula, her eyes focused on the board as she nodded, glancing up in thought before continuing her writing… Her shoulders and hips swayed lightly as she quietly sang, her song having changed…

“Say my name, say my name… if no one is around you, say baby I love you, if you ain’t running games…”

He leaned against the frame of the door, his eyes on the formulas on the board… and he watched as she added more to them, her head bopping…

“…YOU.” He said loudly as she jumped again, her eyes wide as she whipped around.

“DO YOU HAVE A THING FOR SCARING GIRLS?!” she yelped, her eyes on his as he shook his head.

“No… I NEED to speak to J. Myers… Do you know where they are?” he asked as she stared. “…Look, we need them for an FBI case…”

She sighed… then moved her headphones to rest at her neck and setting the chalk down, moving towards him and extending her hand. “…Jennifer.” She said quietly as he took her hand. “…Jen. Jen Myers… senior.” Jen said as he nodded, grinning a bit.

“You COULD have said that.”

“You never gave me a chance.”

Charlie simply chuckled, nodding. “…I guess I really didn’t.” he admitted, then glanced at her equations. They weren’t from the current case… these were more delicate and had been nearly perfected. “…For your thesis?” he asked curiously as she nodded. “…Master’s degree?” he asked as she blinked at him, then simply pointed at the formulas.

“…My thesis is on the application of mathematics in the criminology field, specifically the use of mathematics in the solving of crimes.” Jen said carefully, watching as he nodded. “…Some of it comes from your research and formulas, actually… credited in my paper of course.” she said quickly as he grinned, pointing at the formula.

“I recognize parts of this… this part here, for example… and the bit after it… but you’ve refined some of it. Where’d you get some of this?” Charlie asked curiously as she shifted, then glanced at him.

“…FBI databases.”

“Did you hack it?” he asked with amusement as she shook her head fast.

“No, of course not! I was gathering data for a case… and found it. I found it fascinating, so I… acquired it.”

Charlie simply nodded, his eyes lit up. “…Well you’ve done a great job with it… I like the substitution you used here… it simplifies the equation.”

“I know… part of my thesis is making a computer program that can utilize the mathematical aspects that people like you come up with and come up with likely variables and hypotheses for the investigators to use… the world isn’t filled with Professor Eppes’, after all.” Jen said with a grin, watching as he laughed a bit.

“It’s clever. Might put me out of a job at the FBI, but…” he snorted with amusement as she blinked, her eyes widening.

“Oh, NO! Not at all!” Jen said, grabbing her papers to rifle through them. “There would still need to be someone making new, up-to-date equations for the program to run…”

“I was kidding… Do you prefer Jennifer or Jen?” Charlie asked as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

“…Jen.”

“Ok… well I was kidding, Jen.” Charlie grinned, then stared at the board, his eyes going over her equations, then glancing at her as she moved beside him again, her eyes focused. “…You know, these really are good.”

“Thanks… I was going to ask you for your professional opinion once this case was solved…” Jen said, bringing her chalk back up as Charlie nodded, then peered at her.

“Why DID you never tell me your NAME…?” he asked as she blinked, then shrugged. “…You knew who I was.”

“Who here on campus doesn’t?” Jen said pointedly, a smile tugging at her lips as he ran a hand through his hair. “…I’m just a nobody.” She shrugged, her eyes going to another line of the equation. “…my name doesn’t matter.”

“I’d have wanted to get to know who I was working with.” Charlie said pointedly as she nodded, glancing at him before continuing.

“…Sorry about that, then.” She said, frowning up at her equation. “…I’m not really a people-person. I’ve been told my social skills are lacking.” Jen said as he laughed.

“I understand THAT.” He said, then tilted his head to the side… then grabbed an eraser, removing a portion of the formula before editing what had been there a bit, her head whipping to him as he smiled. “…There. That should eliminate a few steps in the formula.”

She leaned forward… then nodded, her eyes widening. “…Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.” Charlie said, glancing at the door. “…so… there was a reason I came.” He said, holding out a folder as she frowned, then took it and opened it… and paled a bit. “…Another one. This morning.” Charlie said quietly as she nodded, her eyes wide.

“…Damn.”

“Yeah. We have more information, but it also adds variables… we have to pick through them… plug them into a chart to see what aspects align with each victim.” Charlie said, pointing at the paper to show her a few details as Jen nodded.

“Agreed… I’d also suggest some data mining… analyze the victims based on their characteristics… maybe it’ll give you more of an idea as to who the next victim might be.”

“Right, right… I’d thought of that, but we didn’t have enough to go on… but this makes victim four.” Charlie nodded, glancing at the photo and some of the information that he’d jotted down. “…I can work with this… WE can, if you’re interested in helping…”

“I absolutely am.” Jen nodded, her eyes on the photo. “…We’ll figure this out.”

“I hope so…”

[free-pool-trash]

she - warren worthington iii

More Warren!!! He honestly makes me just 🥺 but also 🥵

Requested by the lovely @kurt-nightcrawler​: so,,,, Warren’s writing poetry for a class and he’s really struggling,, so someone suggests he writes about what makes him happy and it’s the reader and then y/n finds out he wrote this really good poetry about them and the reader is all like 🥺🥺

This is so cute thank you for sending it in ✨💕 hope u like it boo i changed it a little i hope it’s still okay :)))

Okay but the tea is I SUCK with poetry okay so I stole song lyrics from a song that I just think is so super cute and kinda goes with the request and that is She by Dodie 🥺 (but I changed it to be more poem like)

Word count: 1,891 :)))

Warning (s): tooth rotting fluff, swearing (obviously), I'm physically incapable of not including Peter in these, that good kissing shit 

masterlist

"Okay, class. Have that assignment for class on Friday." The English teacher spoke loudly to the room full of students and Warren had to fight to contain a groan.

Creative writing - poetry or the way that Warren saw it, torture. Not to get him wrong, he loved poetry. It was deep and it could say things without really saying anything at all, he was one of those people who just got symbolism, no explanations needed. 

However, that didn't mean that he was any good at actually writing poetry. And this assignment was due for Friday, which meant he had four days to figure out how to write a decent poem. 

The thought occurred to him to simply pull some shitty haiku out of his ass and maybe get some marks for effort, but, he dismissed it as English was pretty much the only subject that he had an active interest in, he didn't want his average falling because he handed up one shitty poem.

After the bell rang signalling the end of the class and the end of the day, the winged boy made his way to his dorm to work on his homework and make a start on the dreaded English assignment, where would he even begin?

"Hey man, you coming to hang out?" Warren's roommate, Peter, asked speeding into the dorm room.

Looking up from the blank page of his English copy, Warren cocked an eyebrow at his silver haired friend, "Who's gonna be there?" 

"The whole gang." Peter replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world to which Warren nodded his head and got up from his bed, tossing his English copy onto the floor, he'd work on it some more tomorrow.

"(Y/n) was wondering where you were." Peter told Warren nonchalantly, as if it didn't even matter, oh if only he knew.

At the statement Warren's eyes widened and he was flooded with worry, "Why is she okay? Did she need me for something?" He questioned frantically, as Peter pursed his lips and made a face at him.

"No. She just wanted to know why you didn't come to hang out after class ended…" Peter replied heading out the door with Warren following behind him, a lot calmer now.

When the two boys entered the room, Warren caught sight of you immediately, the bright smile you gave him once he entered the room very nearly floored him.

It was no secret to anyone, not even you, that Warren Worthington III was absolutely crazy about you. You were soft and bright, you were the human embodiment of sunshine. To Warren you felt so familiar, like the cool release of fall coming in after a hot summer.

See, he absolutely understood symbolism, especially when it came to you: His girl that isn't actually his girl. 

Warren walked over to the seat you'd saved him on the couch, beside you, trying his best to keep up his cool exterior Warren sat down and threw his arm over the back of the couch, his hand brushing against your shoulder as he did.

"Hey, Princess." He reveled in the way the nickname brought a hue of pink to your cheeks, and the smile you tried to hide from him only made him chuckle.

"Hey, War. Where have you been?" You asked, scooting ever so slightly closer to him.

At your question Warren groaned and his head fell into your shoulder in exhaustion. "Ugh, I've got an assignment due for Friday. Have to write a poem- I was trying to work on it after class. It's hell." 

Laughing at him, you brought your hand up to play with his blonde curls that were brushing against your neck as he huffed about English. 

"I thought you loved poetry?" You wondered out loud, frowning as he shook his head against your shoulder.

You were sure he loved poetry, something about the symbolism and depth of words.

"Not if I'm the one writing it." He elaborated for you, noticing your frown and adorable furrowed eyebrows and he didn't even realize he was staring up at you until Peter let out an exaggerated groan from the end of the couch.

"Ugh! Would you two just kiss already? The tension is k-i-l-l-i-n-g me!" He exclaimed, dragging out the word ‘killing’ for as long as he could. 

"Peter! Shut the hell up they were being cute!" Jubilee shouted, throwing a handful of popcorn at the speedster who only shrugged.

Kurt looked at you, Warren, Peter and Jubilee confused as Jean and Scott watched you all in amusement.

"Are you two going out?" Kurt asked innocently, looking between each member of the group.

"Might as well be." Peter remarked causing your cheeks to heat and you only added to the teasing as you hid your reddening face in Warren's blonde curls.

"SEE!" Peter exclaimed, pointing at you and Warren accusingly.

You knew better than anybody that you and Warren acted like a couple, but you and him never had that conversation. But it's not like you needed to, it's not like you ever kissed or anything, you were just close.

"Shut the fuck up, Maximoff. You don't know what you're talking about." Warren said, irritation clear in his voice, he didn't even bother to untangle himself from you, you were both used to your friends acting like this. 

He cared a little less about the teasing than you did, however. Awkwardly, you cleared your throat and eased Warren's head off your shoulder before standing up, "I'm, um, yeah I'm gonna go… do homework or something." You stuttered out before practically running out of the room.

If looks could kill, Peter would've dropped dead from the glare Warren was giving him, "Way to go, asshole."

Come the next day everything went back to normal, Peter's teasing hadn't upset you, not really, it was just that fact that you were in some weird in-between phase with Warren where you both knew you wanted to be more than friends but neither of you had said anything yet and Peter calling you out had just sent you into a whirlpool of thoughts about you and Warren that just left you wanting to be more.

It was always the same, day in day out, you hung out with your friends, you or Warren saved each other the seat beside the other and then your friends teased you about what you already knew. "(Y/n) and Warren act like a couple." This and, "(Y/n) and Warren look so cute together." That. Well you were sick of it. You didn't want to just act like a couple, you wanted to be a couple.

The cycle continued until Thursday. Warren had denied Peter's attempts to get him to go hang out as he still had to write his stupid fucking poem. He hadn't made even a word of progress since the project had been assigned. It was getting frustrating.

He'd been slumped over his English work for about 5 hours, it was late in the evening now and sometime during his struggling to write the sun had gone down.

Warren was pulled out of his trance when you peaked your head through his door, smiling sweetly and glancing to Peter's bed to make sure he wasn't in the room before entering.

"Brought you a snack." You told him, handing him the plate of food and sitting down behind him, propping your chin on his shoulder and looking over it with a sympathetic look, "Still no luck with that poem, huh Birdy?"

Warren only hummed, leaning into your body for comfort, he was stumped.

"Yeah, I've got nothin'."

"Well," You started thoughtfully, "Why don't you try writing about something you like?" You suggested while Warren closed his eyes, "Something I like?"

You nodded against his shoulder, "Yeah, like things that make you happy!" You chirped as he opened his green eyes to look at you, your face so close to his. He could smell your shampoo and see every single detail of your face, like looking at a picture.

A smile broke his face, "I think I'll be able to think of something." He told you smugly.

Looks like he'd found some inspiration.

After you left, Warren didn't waste anymore time and quickly finished his poetry assignment and handed it up on time in his class on Friday.

The stress of the previously unwritten poem had evaporated and Warren enjoyed his weekend with you and the rest of your friends, he had to thank his English teacher for handing out the assignment, though. It made him realize everything he'd really been thinking, the little things he noticed often subconsciously.

When his teacher handed him back the graded poem, he couldn't have been happier, he got an A+ and honestly, it was all thanks to you.

His final product had been about you, after all.

After class he'd walked into the common room, to see that you were the first one there and by yourself.

"Princess." He greeted happily, plopping down next to you and shoving the piece of paper with his poem on it, into your hands.

"Ohhh, A+, can I?" You asked, glancing between Warren and the poem.

Warren nodded confidently, impatient and wanting to see your reaction to his poetry.

"Go on. Read it."

"Okay." You smiled and cleared your throat dramatically before beginning to read.

"Am I allowed to look at her like that?

Could it be wrong

When she's just so nice to look at?" You read out softly, a teasing tone to your voice that soon faded away as you continued.

"And she smells like lemongrass and sleep

She tastes like apple juice and peach

Oh, you would find her in a Polaroid picture

And she...

Means everything to me" Warren was biting his lip as he watched you read with a small smile, the lines making sense to you, he hoped.

"I'd never tell

No, I'd never say a word

And oh, it aches

But it feels oddly good to hurt" As you read aloud you knew exactly what he was saying, smooth bastard.

'And I'll be okay

Admiring from afar

'Cause even when she's next to me

We could not be more far apart

And she tastes like birthday cake and story time and fall

But to her

I taste of nothing at all." You finished, looking directly into his eyes, lip between your own teeth almost mimicking him.

"Not to be seen annoyingly oblivious or anything, but I have to ask… who is this 'she'?" You asked Warren shyly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

"She is you." The winged boy stated clearly and you couldn't stop the relief filled laugh that left your mouth, followed by a muttered "thank God".

Warren barely had time to process what was happening before you had practically pounced on him, legs either side of his lap, both hands on either side of his face and your lips pressing against his.

Instinctively his hands grabbed onto your ass to keep you steady as he returned your passionate kiss, lips moving frantically against yours while he pressed you closer to him.

Little did either of you know that none other than Peter Maximoff was standing in the doorway of the common room, shaking his head disbelievingly, "Fucking finally."

[mor-beck-more-problems]

The Two Fingers of Death || Morgan & Gabriel

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @bugbearnecessities & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Gabriel needs a snack and tries out a new scare in the English department offices, to unexpected results.

CONTAINS: slight zombie body horror

“I can't believe that bitch flunked me!”

Gabriel was not supposed to be in the ladies room, and he honestly felt bad about it. Normally he did his best to respect people's boundaries, especially those involving very intimate ceremonies like make-up fixing, gossip sharing and any other mysterious ritual that normally went on in the ladies' bathroom. But he had no choice, really: it'd been far too long since his last feeding, and between that and his natural instinct to just nap the winter away, his energy level was dangerously low, so he needed a little pick me up, ASAP.

And the ladies' room, he'd found, was the best place to get a quick fix: Gabriel only needed to hide in one of the stalls, conjure up the illusion of a giant spider and BAM. Instant snack, with high-pitched shrills on the side. But not this time, apparently. No, this time the two girls washing their faces were too focused on their angry rant against Professor Beck to pay his fake Charlotte any mind, not even when he made the spider dance. The girls sounded so genuinely pissed that for a moment Gabe forgot all about his hunger and just listened intently. Apparently Professor Beck hadn't been particularly impressed with Jessica's essay about The Tell-tale Heart, and frankly Gabriel hated the idea that Jessica could be turned off that masterpiece forever just because of a misunderstanding with her teacher. And truth be told, he was looking for a decent meal... Professor Beck was no murderer, but ruining Poe for young minds all over campus was two steps away from a federal offense, as far as he was concerned.

With that thought in mind, Gabriel waited for the two girls to go away and then he left the bathroom. A quick internet search later, he made his way to the professor's office, knowing that she'd probably be inside. He stood in the hallway in front of her door for a few minutes, waiting for the perfect moment and then, when no one else was in sight, he bent down to spy from the keyhole and focused intently, projecting his magic inside the professor's office.

Morgan cherished her office hours no matter what: if any of her students got over their anxiety enough to come visit, she had a chance to get to know them and put in enough help and suggestions to make whatever homework they turned in after more interesting; if they didn’t, she had some time alone to get her work done,  have fewer things to take home, and listen to some her playlists that didn’t get as much airtime around the house. Today was the latter, and Morgan’s only concern was making sure she didn’t write down the lyrics to “Ivy” while she was trying to respond to her students’ questionnaires. There’s no shame in liking Twilight, she wrote, Looking forward to seeing what your thoughts will be when we get to Carmilla! She got through a few more like this, singing along under her breath since the Medievalist Bros were out doing stars only knew what. Her timer went off. Morgan jolted from the switch between Taylor Swift to the X-Files theme, hard enough that one of her earbuds fell out and rattled to the far side of her desk. Morgan chased it with her hand, only then noticing the bright, bleeding heart on her desk.

She yelped with surprise and scanned the room. “Hello? Is this, uh...for me?” Morgan hadn’t seen anyone come in with a special delivery. But then again, whoever had been tasked with it might’ve been too grossed out to ask questions or stick around. Deirdre was usually more discreet than this when she sent presents over, but sometimes she used her promise binding powers to be a little dramatic. Morgan laughed fondly, remembering a small candy box of eyeballs. “Babe, you shouldn’t have…” she sighed, and reached for the snack, which called to her the same way chocolate cake had when she was alive. Morgan reached and--nothing.

Morgan couldn’t stifle her whine of disappointment, but now there were more pressing problems. “Okay,” she called, louder this time and mildly irritated. “Now I know you’re hiding. Come on out!”

Gabriel had to stifle a villainous chuckle (or, well, the closest thing to a villainous chuckle he could muster) as he waited impatiently for the screaming and the flood of energy that'd follow. Alright, maybe a still beating heart was a bit much, but hey, she was a Lit professor, she had to appreciate the poetic justice in that, right? In any case he'd make it up to her somehow, anyone who listened to the X-Files theme couldn't be so bad after all, and...

Gabriel frowned. There was no screaming, no delicious fear. Why was there no fear, the woman had a freaking human heart on her desk! Granted, hearts were fascinating, Gabriel couldn't wait for the embalming classes to start just so he could maybe see one up close, but most people were at least a little squeamish about them. Was Professor Beck actually... Something else? Blood-thirsty murderer? No, it couldn't be: she'd also been listening to TSwift, and most comments he'd read about her on ratemyprofessors.com actually depicted her as a sweet, caring person. Then again, wasn't that what neighbors always said about serial killers? I never thought he'd be capable of something like that, he was always so nice...

The theory was starting to look more promising as Gabriel watched through the keyhole. She was trying to grab the heart, holy crap! And when her hand just passed through the illusion she looked... Disappointed? Gabriel was so confused that it took him a few moments to realize she'd called out to someone, to him. He hesitated. Should he just go away? That would be the wisest course of action, for sure. But then again, if Professor Beck was a serial killer wasn't it his duty to expose her? He, unlike most people, had the means to defend himself against a crazy murderer, after all. And also he was still so hungry. His mind made up, Gabriel took a deep breath and opened her door, his steps far more boisterous than he actually felt.

“I wasn't hiding!” Gabriel mentally slapped himself. Of all the things he could have said, that was going to be his first line to the very first potential serial killer he'd ever met? Lame. And then he added “Dude, you do realize that's a human organ, right? Like, from an actual person. With a hole in their chest. And it's bleeding all over your papers. Doesn't that... Scare you? Please be a little scared, please.” Even just slightly grossed out. And then he realized what he'd just said. “Uh, I mean... That's a human heart, professor.” Hunger was no excuse to ignore someone's academic accomplishments, not even those of a serial killer.

The door opened and Morgan reached for her bag. Salt, knife, iron, they were all still in there, even if she didn’t want to use them. A dozen different possibilities flickered past her head. Was this a trap? A hunter trap? Some magic critter she’d never heard of? Morgan was alone, and if it hadn’t been for her earbud falling out, she might not have heard anyone come in. This world was cruel and bloody and maybe she was an idiot after all for setting aside her combat training---But then the door opened a little wider and there was just a kid. A college kid, twenty-one at most. Not one of hers, although he did have that awkward intellectual vibe that her more enthusiastic boys held. But he didn’t flaunt that archetype like them, he hadn’t finished growing into himself yet. He wore his presence like a suit that hadn’t been tailored yet, a little oversized in some places and a little too tight in others. But maybe he was just flustered, and she was reading too much to give her mind something to do while she came down from the surprise. Morgan looked from him to the phony heart and back again. Scared?

“Uhhh…”

Granted, most people probably would. The Medievalist Bros absolutely would, even though they loved to posture about how ‘sick’ some of their favorite comic books were when it came to gore. But this was White Crest, people were weird, everything was weird. Please be a little scared, please. And it was only then that Morgan remembered the last time she had been startled by illusion magic: in her family’s old haunted house, the day she’d met Nora.

“It’s...so gross. Nasty, ooey, gooey, gross...thing! Aaaah!” Morgan eyed the boy as she tried to scream. But her heart wasn’t in the charade, she was too focused on the idea of there being another Nora in White Crest and what it was about her that made her seem so yummy to them. Sighing, Morgan deflated. “I’m sorry. I actually kind of…like this stuff.” Especially for dessert. “And it’s actually pretty good looking! More true to life than most movies. Actually, I was too caught up in the visual to know it was pulsing, but that is a really great touch. And um….” Oh, stars, he didn’t think she was being patronizing, did he? He was so young, and she didn’t want to crush his confidence. “Look, it’s not you. Really. Anyone more a...well, anyone different from me in this office and you would’ve really had something. And I’m not just saying that! But, if we’re going to be coming clean about our respective supernatural secrets, you should probably come inside and close the door.”

Gabriel appreciated the effort, truly, but Professor Beck's fake groans were doing nothing to quench his thirst for some genuine shivers. And in truth her act could even get him in trouble: someone might pass by, hear a teacher scream (albeit unconvincingly) and think he was attacking her or something. Which he was, technically, but not in a 'this might get you expelled' sort of way. So even though he was still more than a little disappointed his illusion hadn't sorted the desired effect, Gabe let out a sigh of relief when she apologized. And then, listening to her following words, he actually perked up, a tiny smile tentatively making its way on his face. “You really thought it was realistic? It's kinda tricky to really shape them from behind the door, and I focused really hard to get the rhythm right, but I figured it'd be like, uh... Shakespeare! Mess up the beat and the Bard is just not the same, right? Rhythm's important, so...” Gabriel's voice waned as he looked past the warm fuzzy feeling only a straight-A student could get from a teacher's praise and he finally realized exactly what she had said.

Slowly Gabriel took a couple of steps into the office and closed the door behind him, one hand awkwardly flying to rub his neck. “Wait. Respective supernatural secrets?” Wait, not the right word to stress. “Err, I mean- Supernatural secrets? I don't know what you're...” He didn't finish the sentence, he realized no one, lest of all Professor Beck, would ever buy it. Note to self: learn to come up with a decent lie when put on the spot. “Nevermind.” Gabriel blinked, once twice, three times as he felt the awkwardness of that pause weight on him like a heavy blanket. He drew little circles on the floor with the tip of his foot, unable to meet Professor Beck's gaze as he quickly added “Sorry. About the heart. I know you said you liked it -which we're totally gonna go back to eventually by the way... But, uh... Sorry about the intention behind the heart, I guess. I just...” His stomach chose right that moment to rumble loudly. “I'm really hungry.”

Morgan waited until the boy had closed the door and they were well and truly alone. She ached for her magic and good old fashioned silencing charms. Whatever confusion and discomfort she’d had around his trick was gone. He was too clumsy and good-natured for his own hunt. If she had been a hunter or some kind of heartless caster, he might be in a lot more trouble, and he put so much thought into his magic, he was so...eager. Morgan couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a young supernatural so positively engaged with their power and identity. She struggled not to smile as she said, “First of all, you really need to have your cover story in place before you do anything that might make a normie ask questions. You never know who’s going to turn out to be a hunter or an alarmist. You and I are fine, and I know you didn’t mean anything by it, but that may not always be the case.” She gestured for him to sit and reached into her bag for her pyrex, which had her brain stash, and her knife.

“Secondly, yes. The animal hearts I’ve seen are a little more purple-y, than that but not by much, and your average normie is definitely not going to notice any difference. And the texture of the blood? Amazing. We can and will circle back and it probably won’t take long because thirdly…” She eyed him warily. If anyone was going to not be terrified of what she was, it would be this kid, right? Nora hadn’t minded any, and whoever this boy was, he had her kind of fear magic. He thought bleeding hearts were cool, so maybe a whole zombie body might be something to feel excited about. Or at least...not something to flee in panic over. “Thirdly, first rule of supernatural club is you don’t talk about other people’s powers or species or whatever else without asking them. So I’m keeping this snack attack between you and me--well, I’ll tell my girlfriend, but I’ll leave anything specific to you out of it--and you’ll do the same for me. I uh, can’t help your food front, yet, but I can show you something about me that you might find….” Cool? “...Interesting.”

Morgan couldn’t help it; she smiled, she hoped. “How are you with real-life body horror? And how much would you like to see a real zombie…?”

Gabriel's fingers had a little spasm, desperate for a pen and a notepad. It was an automatic response, atavistic almost: when a teacher spoke, you took notes, and you listened and you learned. And man, was class fascinating today! Gabriel nodded, although part of him was so desperate to tell Professor Beck she didn't need to worry: he could become a 10 feet bundle of muscles and claws, he could defend himself. Then he remembered all those times his roommate had managed to draw penises on his face while he was snoring, and he realized that even an 800 lbs monster, when asleep, could easily be poisoned, suffocated, paralyzed... “Cover story is important, got it.”

As Professor Beck described the ideal heart, Gabriel tried to summon up a good image of it, but the result was somehow worse than the first one: less tangible, the heart illusion floated behind the professor, ghastly and practically see-through, such a pathetic attempt that he made it disappear without even showing the Professor. Gabriel frowned: why couldn't he do it anymore? Was it because he was running out of energy and needed a good scare? Or maybe it was because now he knew the Professor wasn't afraid of hearts, so his illusions would no longer be able to summon a heart for her? He would ask mami later, Gabe promised to himself: she was no bugbear, but with his father still doing his disappearing act she was the only one that had been able to give him any sort of info about those things. Until now.

“So basically supernatural powers or species is sort of like...” Gabriel paused, looked for the right metaphor, and then he perked up again. “S&M! Nothing inherently wrong with it, but some people don't really get or understand it so you gotta respect someone's choice to keep it on the DL.” Immediately he paled. Had he really just said that? To a professor? “Not that I know anything about S&M! I mean, that's not the point, the point is... Respect people's privacy, got it. I won't tell anyone about you, I swear.” Once again, Gabriel nodded solemnly, hoping that his awkwardness wouldn't make her doubt his sincerity as he raised his right hand up and made that promise, an oath he fully intended to keep.

Luckily for Gabriel, Professor Beck's next question brought the conversation back to a topic that was far more comfortable to him. “Body horror? Puh-lease! I'm majoring in Mortuary Science and yesterday I fell asleep watching The Hills Have Eyes... think I can handle some gor- Woah, wait, back up...” While during the rest of the conversation Gabriel's eyes had darted around the room, dancing between captive attention and awkward embarrassment , now they landed solely on the Professor, rudely staring. Normally Gabriel would have apologized about that, but all he could focus on right then was...“Did you just say... Zombie?” If the giant grin and wide-eyed excitement on his face didn't answer her doubts, the excited twitching probably would.

Morgan snorted with laughter at the boy’s comparison. More people knew about her species than the particulars of how she and her girlfriend frequently enjoyed sex together, and she didn’t know of anyone who was maimed for having a ball gag in their purse, but he was on the right track. “Oh, of course you don’t, totally just stuff you’ve heard around the dorms, strictly abstract, intellectual curiosity.” Her smile was knowing as she waved away the subject. There were a lot of things she was willing to speak to that other professors weren’t, but this wasn’t one of them.

The boy had put her so much at ease with his enthusiasm, she almost forgot to warn him. “What’s your name, by the way? This feels like a weird thing to demonstrate to just some kid in my office. But, anyway, brace yourself.” Morgan’s words were for herself too. It had been a while since she’d shown anyone this particular part of herself on purpose. She reached for the knife on her desk and raised it over her hand. She closed her eyes and imagined she was chopping carrots as she brought it down swiftly over her fingers.

There was a bite of pain, enough to make her whimper, but there were no tears, and by the time she opened her eyes and scooped up the two severed fingers to give to the boy, fresh white bone had sprouted from the sockets and red muscle and purple sinew were braiding themselves over it. The severed fingers did not bleed, per se, but dripped a few globs of black blood where they had been cut, but only when squeezed, like tube of toothpaste. “These’ll keep for about a day or two, if you want to stick them somewhere for somebody to find,” she said. “After that, they turn to goo.”

“Gabriel Rivera. Swear on mami's snake, I usually introduce myself before sharing secrets, but in my defense... Zombie.” There was still a hint of amazed incredulity in that last word, but any lingering doubt he may still have was quickly cut down with that swing of the Professor's knife. No matter how comfortable as Gabriel was watching gory movies or even studying the theory of preserving corpses, he still flinched out of concern for Professor Beck more than squeamishness. It was just a moment, and then he was back to enthusiastic curiosity. Without hesitation he grabbed the fingers and held them close to his face, squeezing a little and even sniffing them. He stopped short of tasting the dark blood and, after a few moments of enraptured studying, he looked up at the Professor again. “Did it hurt? Are you okay? Will they grow back?” She seemed pretty unfazed by the fact someone else was holding bits and pieces of her, though, so the questions continued rapidly, before she could answer. “Have you ever tried preserving them? I could stea- Borrow some embalming fluid from the lab and... Wait, is that offensive? Asking if I can keep your finger in a jar must be rude, I'm sorry. But just... Look at 'em!”

Gabriel traced the tip of her fingers with morbid fascination before closing his whole hand around them, like protecting some precious treasure. The Professor's words registered a second later. “Stick them somewhere for somebody? Wait, so you're saying you're not going to tell me I shouldn't scare people?” Not that he wanted to scare anyone, really, he just had to, as the waves of exhaustion made themselves known again. “Because I get it, it's not exactly nice. And, uh, I'd totally understand if you were upset about the heart or if, at the very least, you wanted me to just... Not scare people on campus. And I can totally do that, no feeding on school grounds is a reasonable rule! But since we're being so open I'll be honest.” Gabriel paused, a hint of guilt tinging his next words. “If you let me keep these I definitely will hide them somewhere. Pretty soon, too. And then I'll feed from whoever finds them. Kinda hoping it'll be Baker, since he's kind of an assh- A jerk. And then, after he runs away terrified and I'm no longer hungry I'll swoop in and retrieve them because I don't want the cops to close down the school to investigate your fingers. No need for a cover story if no one is the wisest, right?” Truth be told, Gabriel was proud of himself: between the pangs of hunger and the excitement of the Professor's revelations he thought it quite impressive that he'd managed to think ahead like that. Apparently moms with babies under cars had adrenaline bursts, teacher's pets trying to impress their new favorite Professor had bright ideas. “So, uh, if you want Baker to not see a severed finger maybe just...” It visibly pained him to finish that sentence and offer the fingers back, but he still did. “...Take 'em.”

“Yes, Gabriel, it hurt,” Morgan admitted, “But not to the same degree it would hurt you. And--” She waggled her hand in front of him. All the muscle had regrown on her once severed fingers and fresh skin was slowly growing from the knuckles upwards. “I’m fine. No need or interest in preservation. I can regrow anything but my head, which is great, because I can’t begin to tell you how many times my feet have been eaten by hungry critters here.” She determinedly kept up her blasé attitude, because at least this time she was in charge of what happened to her body. She didn’t need to feel like food or remember that to some creatures, even some people, she was only a thing. This was different. At least she and Gabriel were the same, and he understood the distinction between who she was and what she could do.

Satisfied, Morgan opened her pyrex and popped a brain meatball into her mouth, swirling it in some eyeball puree first. It would speed the re-growing process along and get the taste of fresh heart out of her head. “I should probably mention, the reason I wasn’t scared was because I kind of eat dead organs for dessert. Not really nutritious, but neither are candy bars, and that’s never stopped humans before. It’s like that.” She waved away Gabriel’s hand as he ate, insisting he keep the rather unconventional gift she’d handed him. “Oh, stars, what do you think I am? You’re, what, nineteen, maybe twenty? You’re a college kid, you need to eat! Granted, on campus is a big risk. But I understand that you need this.” And this gave her an idea. She scarfed down the rest of her food and ducked her head out of the office door. No one around, but there were some murmurs from the lower floors. Another class period had ended, and the Medievalist Bros’ lunch break was probably ending soon.

Morgan turned back to Gabriel, brow arched with a friendly challenge. “How do you feel about sticking a zombie finger inside a candy bar wrapper and telling a TA who still needs to respect women more that it came from a secret admirer?” She asked. “This will be easier if you have cash, but I don’t think my snack was so big that I can’t bust through some glass for a good cause. You can still save the other one for Baker. Also, side note, I really respect how fast you learn. But whatever you’re comfortable with, you should decide quickly, because my guess is we’ve got about five minutes to pull this off.”

Zombies were fascinating. Gabriel briefly wondered if there were any zombies working on movie sets, donating their limbs to get that perfect decomposing tint on the thousands of severed hands flying around during movies with a chainsaw-wielding maniac as the main character. Gabriel tried to listen to all the cool facts Professor Beck was spouting, but honestly it was hard for him not to get sidetracked by the gross, slopping noise of brains and smushed eyeballs being chewed. Not that it grossed Gabe out: he was actually memorizing it for his Scare Bank. “I'm 20,” He answered almost distractedly, with a small chuckle. “I only look younger thanks to my healthy diet.” Part of him was dying to ask about her diet: if organ snacks didn't cut it then what? Was the brain myth accurate? How come she was so present, so alert and aware? She moved like a living person, talked like one as well... Had she not claimed the title for herself Gabriel would have never guessed she was a zombie, not even after seeing her gulp down raw mashed livers. But something told him that was not a first meeting question, and the last thing he wanted was to upset the professor, so he kept those questions to himself. For now.

Gabriel's grin grew into a mischievous smirk as he listened to the Professor's plan. “Say no more, misogynistic dic- douchebags are my favorite meal! And it'll be the best two bucks I ever spent!” Acquiring the snack was easy, just a quick trip to the closest vending machine and back to her office, bless consumerism. Unwrapping the snack without tearing the plastic apart was a little bit trickier, but Gabriel was not going to ask the Professor to help, not after what she'd already done for him. Gabriel had finally managed to put one of the fingers inside the colorful wrapping. Not perfect, but hopefully the TA wouldn't notice. “Ready to go, just point me in that guy's direction and watch the magic happen.” He sounded more confident than he actually felt, but this time Gabriel's usual self-doubting and insecurities weren't enough to sully his excitement. “Also, do you want the candy? I'm not sure if you even can eat it. For all I know it's poisonous for you, like chocolate for dogs, and I definitely don't want to poison you.” The wrapped fingers almost fell as Gabe flailed and rushedly added “Not that I'm comparing you to a dog!!! And even if I did, hello, bear here! But, uh, what I mean is... You've been great, and I kinda feel like I owe you, so if you want candy it's all yours.” Another long pause. “Speaking of how great you've been, is this... Common for you? The whole reveal thing? Because it's a skill that might come in handy one day, really so I was wondering if I could maybe... Ask for your advice every now and then. Office hours only, of course!”

Morgan grinned, ducked her head out of the office door to listen. “Even better than that,” she whispered. She grabbed one of the spare chairs and tucked it near her own. “Have a seat here, and uh…” She grabbed one of the books stacked around her work and put it in front of Gabriel. “Look busy, or borrow it to read, if you want, I’ve got way more copies than I should really have.” She huddled near him. “The guy in question might be one of the people I share this office space with, so you can probably watch your handiwork play out if you really want. But, this is your scare, so you can do all the talking. Also, you can keep the candy. It’s not toxic, but it also doesn’t taste like much of anything to me.” She shrugged.

The TAs had made it to the hallway, making plans on how they were going to humiliate the competition on their next co-op game and how they were going to bribe the Anthro Babe into going out with Jeryn.

Morgan rushed herself, whispering rapid-fire, “And uh, about the reveals, I’ve only been dead nine months and I was a little depressed and graceless when I talked to my friends about it. I’ve been trying to work on it more recently, but you’re the first person I’ve told this month who didn’t feel the need to immediately run away. And I only made them check for my non-existent pulse.” She shrugged haplessly. “But, hey! Being dead is really different than eating fear. Maybe--”

Jeryn and his tweed wearing bros burst through the door.

“Maybe you should spend a little more time developing this post-colonial theory you’ve got!” Morgan turned to the TA’s, smiling sweetly. “Gentlemen. Nice to see you back.”

The shyest of the bunch flinched back, still traumatized from the time Morgan had threatened him with bloody murder. But Jeryn, the newest recruit to the program, was unphased. “Good day to you too, my lady. No girlfriend today? I came back early just to see you two.”

Morgan bit back her retort. Whatever she had to say wasn’t going to be nearly as satisfying as what Gabriel was going to do.

Gabriel sat down with his eyes glued to the book, but his mind was busy wrapping around Professor Beck's words. I've only been dead nine months. What do you say to something like that? The Grief Counseling classes included in his major often discussed how to talk to the family members of the deceased, the proper way to offer your condolences while keeping the professional detachment needed to help them through the trying process of accepting a loss, and yet Gabe had no clue regarding the proper etiquette to adress someone who had died. Luckily the door opened and spared him the awkwardness of replying.

When the TAs entered Gabriel was reminded of his high school's football team, only with tweed instead of letter jackets. Any hint of guilt he might have had at the fact he was about to scare, maybe even traumatize a young man was dissipated the moment Jeryn opened his mouth. Gabriel didn't need to look at the professor to recognize the target.

“Wait, it's you!” Gabriel did his best to sound surprised and annoyed at the same time as he stood up and approached Jaryn. “I thought Linda was making stuff up, but man you are something! Linda Blair, you know her?” Jaryn blinked. “The name sounds familiar, but I can't quite pla-” Gabe interrupted him. “She's been auditing your classes and just won't shut up about you, says her fingers literally fell off from refreshing your Facebook page.” As he spoke, Gabriel pretended to dig through his pocket for something, and after a few moments he produced the fake snack. “When I told her I had an appointment with Professor Beck she basically begged me to give you this. Think she wrote her number on it or something. Apparently the way you treated her made her feel things she just can't ignore, and she just has to meet you... Women, am I right?” The wink he offered Jaryn made him feel dirty inside, but it was for a good cause.

Everything on Jaryn's face seemed to scream 'Is she hot?' and sensing his reluctance Gabriel retreated his hand and started to tear the wrapper, raising it to his mouth as if to take a bite. It took all his effort not to gag as putrescine and cadaverine (They were decomposing already? So cool) assaulted his nose, but somehow Gabriel managed to keep his poker face on as he said “Hey, don't worry, you don't have to accept! I mean, honestly I was thinking about asking her out myself, so I was kinda hoping you wouldn't be here, I can tell her I-” Jaryn basically ripped the 'candybar' away from Gabe. “No need, kid. It'd be rude to refuse a thoughtful gift from... What was her name again?”

“Look inside...”

The female voice echoed through the office, repeating the name over and over, punctuating it with the occasional forlorn sigh. Gabriel's eyes were closed as he channeled his energy into the magic. “What the...?!” Jaryn and the other TAs looked around, tense. The more their panic grew, the easier it was for him to add whistles and bells to the trick. “Look what you did to me...” Jaryn turned to stare at the Professor, confusion and nervousness painted all over his pale face. “What's the meaning of this, Profe-” The door slammed shut. Or rather, the door sounded like it had been slammed shut, though it was all part of the illusion.

“LOOK!”

When a ghastly, disembodied voice barks an order at you, you obey. Or at least that seemed to be Jaryn's thought process. He went above and beyond the call of duty and clumsily tore the wrapper, revealing the two fingers inside. Gabriel had to hide a smirk. The smell of decomposition assaulted everyone in the room, magically enhanced by Gabe's illusions, and the sticky dark ooze coming out from the fingers added a layer of realism to the image of copious amounts of blood running down from the severed extremity. Gabe's magic couldn't give it weight or make Jaryn's hands actually wet, but Professor Beck's impeccable prop did the work for him. Jaryn's face paled and his terror... Man, his terror was prime. Gabe even let out a satisfied hum, almost a cat-like purr as he absorbed their fear, sharp and vibrant and oh-so-filling. After a few long moments Jaryn dropped the fingers inside a sizable pool of fake, intangible blood that had collected at his feet. Almost as if that were the signal they were all waiting for, the TAs snapped out of their petrified terror and trampled each other in a clumsy race to the door, their screams echoing across the hallways as they ran from the office.

With a satisfied sigh, Gabriel picked up the fingers, rubbed his belly and turned to the Professor, finally breaking down into a laughter that took a while to die down. Normally he would never be so informal around a teacher, but man he always felt ready to take on the world after an all-you-can-eat buffet like that. “So... Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

Morgan did her best to keep her face straight, even disinterested, as Gabriel summoned the disembodied voice of a young woman into the room. She opened her laptop, watching Jeryn’s reflection through the screen. When he called out to her she looked at him confused. “What?”

The voice cried for everyone in the room to look, and Morgan, her face still bland and innocent as before, did. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself steady. His scream, shrill, throaty, and desperate, must have echoed through the entire hall.

“Aw, guys! What happened?” She called. “Come back, are you okay?”

When she could only hear their footsteps thundering to the bathroom, Morgan finally let out all the laughter she’d been holding in, tipping in her seat and covering her mouth to stop from getting any louder. “Are you kidding me? Gabe! That was amazing! I mean, the way his eyes looked like they wanted to melt! He sounded like a little kid when he screamed too! I’d be surprised if one of them didn’t piss themselves! Oh, stars, I can’t wait to tell him he screamed over a plastic toy when he comes back. This is way better than anything I could’ve done on my own. Seriously, you were--” She shook her head, speechless, and offered her hand up for a high five.

“Hang onto those so you can grab dinner tonight, or dessert,” she said, pointing to the fingers. “They won’t be any good after tomorrow, and I’d rather them go to a good cause than Besides, I can trust a fellow supernatural to look after them, right?” She smiled fondly at Gabriel, already certain that she could. “And, in case it wasn’t clear, I’m really glad you showed up to my office. I think you’d also like my lit seminar, but I hope this isn’t the last time I see you either way.”

Gabriel shook his head vehemently. He wasn't going to take all the credit, he was raised better than that. “Listen, you're the only reason it worked so well, it had weight! Lots of people can take the sight of horrible stuff because, well... TV, I think. But the feel of holding a severed piece of a human bo--teacher?! CSI can't prepare you for that.” Gabe nodded solemnly at his own words, as if he was the teacher and she the student. And then he finally realized her position. Was that a... Holy crap, it was. An actual high five! From a professor! It was almost surreal, but he'd promised to himself long ago he'd never leave anyone hanging. The high-five echoed through the office, to his ears even louder than his own illusions, and his huge grin threatened to split his face in half.

“I'm glad I showed up, too! Though now I better go, I kinda don't want them to come back and find me still here...” Truth be told, part of Gabriel was dying to just stay and ask her all sort of questions about herself, but he still wasn't sure he could trust himself not to put his foot in his mouth and ruin what felt like the luckiest meal of his life. “Oh, and by all means, mail me the deets on the seminar because I am so there...” It was only then that he realized, once more, that this was not one of his peers, this was a teacher, he shouldn't be so casual with her. Yet something about her demeanor had managed to put him at ease from the first moment, to the point where it was hard not to file the Professor under the Potential Friends category in his mind. Maybe, just maybe, that's exactly where she belonged.

[jamesphillimoresumbrella]

WIP challenge

Tell your blog the titles of all the WIPs you are currently working on right now and a little about them and then tag five other writers.

I was tagged by @thetimemoves​. Thank you!

I re-read the instructions, saw the word “all”, and went Oh. No. Because, well, I really am quite terrible.

The Sorceress’s Husband - This is the latest one, which pretty much popped into my head fully-formed when I finally realized what the lyrics of Charming Disaster’s Little Black Bird were saying. Meant it to be a quick little one-shot, but it said, nope, it wanted to be a re-telling of A Study in Pink too, aside from being a fairy tale.

005 - It’s porn about porn, from the kink meme, that has taken me years to write, but I wander back over to this one whenever I feel like I don’t know how to write anymore.

The Turning Point - Mystrade for @merelypassingtime, where Greg does ballet and Mycroft makes a habit of looking in on the older boys when he comes to pick his little brother up from dance class. Research for this was fun because I dove headfirst into Mikhail Baryshnikov videos. This needs one more chapter. I have most of it. I am stuck on a transition and have rewritten it so many times.

Only the End of the World Again - a Good Omens crossover for @khorazir, which is set after the events of Good Omens: Aziraphale and Crowley ask the world’s only consulting detective for help to keep the world from ending. Again. But not Armageddon, that’s been and done.

No Earthly Thing – a fic for @consultingsmartass where Sherlock gets cursed with tentacles, that is also a re-telling of The Devil’s Foot. I tore through so much Celtic mythology and fairy lore for this and I need to stop re-writing the third chapter and just plain old write it, I need to get to Leona Sterndale.   

A Study in Emerald-verse companion to The Hunting Dogs - I want to write this one so badly, and have a few lines down, but do not know if I can do it properly, no matter how many times I read The Lion’s Mane and The Musgrave Ritual. 

Persuading Violet Merville - a sequel to The Seduction of John S. Willoughby, which was my first Sherlock fic. It’s meant to be The Illustrious Client and The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax smashed together, and I know what’s getting me with this one is that I can’t write like I did Seduction, churning out a chapter a day, back when I was half-mad and clinging to everything Sherlock like a lifeline.

Shameless – a kink meme fill where Sherlock and John meet in a club, and have a one night stand. They have been stuck in the one night stand for years now. Help.

Out of Innsmouth – a kink meme fill where John has tentacles, and, well. It’s a kink meme fill. With tentacles. That’s still ongoing.

Black Gods and Ivory Boxes - My first foray into A Study in Emerald AU for BBC Sherlock. I want to write the rest of this. I know how it goes. But I need to heavily re-write the extant bits first, because this was from when I was consuming George R.R. Martin and you can tell I was trying for grimdark and gritty, but that just isn’t how I do things at all. 

The Last Night at the End of the World - Adlock. I am very fond of this, but I wrote myself into a corner and need to extricate myself. And them. Help.

Don’t You Ever Tame Your Demons - started for a prompt asking that John be a certain type of incubus that needs to procreate. I, um, don’t know if this one will see the light of day tbh.

Boots and the Glass Mountain - suggested by @bluebellofbakerstreet when I threw out a post asking for fairy tale to smash into fic. I’m excited to get to this one! It would have been my January fic if “Little Black Bird” hadn’t hijacked my brain.

Snow White and Rose Red - @kitten-kin suggested this on the same fairy tale post, and I don’t know how to do this fic yet, but I am determined to figure it out precisely because I don’t know how to do it.

And, because it occupies a significant portion of my notebook and my head, an original story as yet untitled, where an evil spy (just a job title), a warrior (of sorts), a witch who can’t do magic, a goddess’s avatar, and a girl who just wants to go home need the Chosen One to defeat a Dark Lord - only the Chosen One’s mother won’t hear of her going anywhere near the bastard because the girl is seven. Her mother’s coming instead. 

And those are the ones that I am working on, though I might be missing one or two. It’s a horrifically long list, but seeing it laid out like that makes it a little less daunting for me. Now I have a checklist. Yay!

Tagging @merelypassingtime, @bluebellofbakerstreet, @khorazir, @helloliriels, and anyone who’d like to have a crack at this! (Also apologies if you’ve been tagged before and I didn’t notice.)

[harrys-reverie]

Dog Years // Harry Styles O.U.

Part 3: The Bookstore

a/n: hey everyone! welcome to part 3 of dog years. sorry it took so long on the update -- i just got back to college. i hope you enjoy this chapter!!! i personally consider it harry’s very subtle way of opening up to people (how i’d imagine it) as always like, SHARE, COMMENTS, feedback, all appreciated!!! xoo

STORY PAGE I PART ONE I PART TWO

To be fair I didn’t hear from Jeff or Harry for two whole days. I was starting to feel like they lowkey didn’t want me to be part of their ‘team’ anymore. I couldn’t be bothered even if they didn’t, because at the end of the day I worked for Eve, not them. But at the same time all I could do was sit and recollect about my night with all of them. Everything seemed to go so well, and i really thought they liked me. I liked them.

So since Eve figured my pay was now around the clock, if I wasn’t doing anything that I needed to do be doing something. It was just a bunch of menial tasks like picking up  garbage around the premises, scooping up vile dog shit and what not. Honestly, it kind of sucked. I rather be fetching candles and dropping them off to Harry.

But finally it was Sunday and it was my day off. A part of me wanted to go back to my nans house, stop in and say hi. Then I remembered Sunday’s were her brunch and bingo days and she went out with all her cute old lady friends. I was starting to feel extremely lonely.

So I was left to myself in my little cottage. It was pretty relaxing, but all the time cooped up in here was becoming boring and repetitive. And to think I had 4 months left of this. Just sitting in my bed scrolling through shopping sites putting tons of clothes in a cart I’d never get around to purchasing. Even being payed around the clock wasn’t enough to buy a whole new wardrobe.

So yes, I was starting to get a little antsy that I heard nothing from Harry or Jeff. I sneakily biked by Harry’s cottage multiple times to see if he was still there throughout the two days, and his car was still parked in the driveway each time. I hadn’t seen him even around the premises at all doing anything. Or anyone from his group for that matter. I tried to tell myself by the end of the first day that they were all just super hungover. I knew that was a stretch but it eased my mind. Then yesterday rolled around and I had no comforting excuses for why I hadn’t heard from them.

I expressed my worry to Eve and she insisted that they were probably just getting settled. Okay, I’ll take that. That’s got to be it, right?

As I continued to worry in my head about what may have gone wrong I reached for my phone. Nope, no messages. Fuck. This was quickly becoming a bad habit, constantly checking my phone. Bravely I pressed Jeff’s contact, hovering my thumb over the call option. Should I try to reach out? Eh. Sighing, I locked the phone and tossed it to my side. If they needed me, they would act on it. I didn’t want to be a nuisance and bother any of them.

Focusing my attention back on my laptop I popped open a new tab on my Safari browser. I began typing his name, enter and then search.

Instantly an endless amount of brand new and just days old articles displayed across my screen. Harry Styles this, Harry Styles that. There was one recurring theme throughout all of these article titles though, a girls name - Camille.

“Camille Rowe, ex lover of musician Harry Styles states that he’s ‘overly jealous and begged her to stay when they broke up!’ Oh no, poor H. Read more here.”

“Apparently Harry Styles is a Freak in the Sheets! Ex Girlfriend Camille Rowe recollects on her sex life with the pop star in her new book ’Truth Be Told.’”

“Feeling bad about getting cheated on? Don’t feel bad,Harry Styles has been in your shoes too...his ex girlfriend opens up about the mistakes she made that ultimately led to the lyrics of Harry’s sophomore album, Fine Line.”

I couldn’t help but let out a gasp, all this couldn’t be true, could it? I exited out of the tab quickly, afraid to go on and read more of those terrible headlines. I honestly felt bad if all that was true, and if Harry’s ex girlfriend really did that, then I could only imagine how he might be feeling.

I could tell Harry really valued his privacy, why else would he be out here in the middle of nowhere in complete hiding? I thought back to him telling me how he had a disdain for California, I was now beginning to think she had some sort of connection to it. Poor Harry. Almost instantly I was feeling guilty, like I invaded Harry’s privacy by seeing all of those headlines. Imagining what the whole world most think and know of him right now is extremely unsettling. To bring up how he has sex and his most vulnerable moments and just like everyone know about it, it’s beyond fucked up.

Ting.

The world has a funny way of working making connections sometimes. Deep down in my gut I had a feeling it’d be Harry or Jeff who left me a text, it just had to be. Before I even reached my phone I saw the capital H, I knew it was Harry. Of course, he was texting me now, after I saw all that and felt so fucking bad. If he was any other person I’d ask if he wanted to have a nice chat, bring over some ice cream and wine and help him relax.

I wasn’t slow to swipe up on the message and see what he wrote.

‘Hiiiii Colette. Hope you’re well, it’s Harry. Have a huge favor to ask you whenever you get the chance. X”

Hah, he’s acting me for a favor as if I’m not getting paid to help him with whatever he needs. He’s too nice. I didn’t hesitate to start typing back.

‘Hi, Harry! How are you? I’ve been just well! As for the favor...sure anything :)”

Not even five seconds later my phone was vibrating and ringing at the same time, Harry’s name flashing across the screen. Ah, so he’s one of those people who have to make phone calls for everything. My hands felt like jelly as I went to accept the call. Even though we had a great night, him not talking to me for a couple days made me rethink how great that night might’ve actually been. Maybe I was just super tipsy and thought it was amazing when it was just subpar.

“Hello?” I chimed, placing the phone to my ear.

His deep Americanized-British accent greeted me, “Morning Colette!” He sounded extra chirpy this morning.

“Harry! Haven’t heard from you in a while..” I replied nervously.

There was a small pause. “Sorry ‘bout that just keeping busy and what not. I meant to text but, I was so preoccupied I forgot. ‘M sorry, won’t pull something like that again.”

My heart felt like it was being squeezed, my intention was never to make him feel bad but I could sense that I did. I wondered how stressful it was on him always being so kind to everyone, literally everyone. At all times of the day.  I had a feeling that most of the time he was putting on an act when deep down he was just having real human problems that he had to keep tucked away.

“Don’t apologize,” I rushed. “It’s fine, seriously. What’s up?”

“A little bit of this, a little bit of that,” He joked. I could hear his soft chuckle from the other line. “Sunday’s.”

“The most relaxing day,” I noted, it was true.

“Relaxing enough where I feel like I should take some time and start a book.”

Oh, fuck. There wasn’t much enthusiasm in his voice anymore. I had a feeling I knew where all of this was heading, and I didn’t like it.

“Any day is a great day to start a book,” I suggested trying to hide my nerves. The universe really was one giant head fuck.

“Actually the favor I was going to ask you,” Harry drawled, a slight tinge of hesitation is his voice. “I really want this specific book.”

Yep, this was his heading right where I thought it would.

“Ooo which one?” I questioned excitedly, like I didn’t know. I was really hoping he’d take me by surprise and say that new Twilight book or something.

“It’s called Truth Be Told. Actually, bet it’s sold out everywhere. Can’t even Amazon fuckin’ Prime it.” He laughed. Maybe he was taking this a lot lighter than I thought...?

“Y’ know what. I don’t need it. Um, do you have any book recs?” Harry rushed.

“If you want that book I’ll go out in town and look for it, but if not I do have some recommendations,” I offered.

“Okay, how ‘bout this? I’ll lend you my car and could you get me that uh, Truth book or whatever and also, get me a book you recommend for me and I have one I recommend for you.”

“You trust me in your car? I just only started to learn to drive on the opposite side of the road,” I admitted with a smile, not like he could see it.

“If ya crash my car, I wouldn’t even try coming back...avoid the wrath of Harry Styles at all costs,” He countered.

“Uh-oh I’m scared,” I fake gasped.

“Hm, should be. I’m not like the papers say, ‘m actually a real diva.”

I was starting to really like this conversation.

“A lot of work, huh?”

“You think you can handle it?”

It’s like I could hear his smirk through the phone. This conversation went really, might I say flirtatious, really fast. I knew it was just his personality and I shouldn’t over think it. But if there is one thing I loved in life, it was a good flirt. And Harry, he was good at it.

I must have been zoned out for a moment because I heard Harry awkwardly clear his throat when I didn’t reply back to his flirtatious line.

“So ‘m gonna pick you up actually. We’ll go back to mine and then you can head off to get those books? Sound good?” He spoke into the line.

“Oh yeah, sure.”

“See ya soon.”

With a click, the call was finished. As much as I wanted to sit back and recollect on what the fuck went down in that call I knew I needed to get out of bed and make myself presentable. He didn’t give me an ETA so I assumed I didn’t have much time on the clock.

I ran to my overflowing duffle, with all the time on my hands I really needed to get around to unpacking it. Was it bad that I wanted to try to look a little more dressed up than just jeans and a tee?

Yep, it was probably bad because I shouldn’t care how I look in front of him.

“Ugh!” I exclaimed, rummaging through all the wrinkled clothing. I settled on black jeans and a black blouse. It looked a bit funeral-esque, I’m hoping it came off as chic. I’d look like a rag doll next to him anyway, the least I could do was try.

He really wanted to go and get his ex girlfriend’s book, huh? I don’t know why he’d want to do that to himself, either way I was going to play dumb as rocks when he gave me the list of the name and author of the book. It’s not entirely an act though, I just read a few headlines. Correction, I just google searched his name and scrolled throw a bunch of headlines about how you have sex and cry — how terrible that would sound if he knew it was true. I will be taking that one to the grave with me.

I swore not even 5 minutes had passed by and the purring of Harry’s engine was already echoing through my house. He was only up the hill after all, but he gave me absolutely zero time to fix myself up. I just had to suck it up and go out there with my frizzy hair and oily skin and tough it out.

But that wasn’t even my biggest concern, my biggest concern was the fact I, a shit driver in the first place, was now being trusted to drive Harry’s extremely fancy Range Rover to a book store of some sorts somewhere. As soon as we traded off the car my plan was to start Google mapping a place and praying that it was close. The quicker I’m in and out of that vehicle, the better.

My phone pinged.

Harry.

“Should’ve gone to the bathroom before I left. Can I come in for a quick wee? X”

I just couldn’t get a break, my bathroom was cluttered with skincare products and dirty clothes piling on the side. I ran to the bathroom swiping up the dirty clothes and tossing them in an empty drawer in the dresser. He’ll just have to excuse all my beauty products, I didn’t want to keep him waiting too long.

“Come in!!!” I texted him back.

The sound of a car door slam was almost instantly followed by a polite knock at my door. Although the cottages were spread far apart I rushed over to the door, not wanting him to stay outside too long, afraid he might get noticed.

I peered through the peephole and was blessed by the handsome looks of Harry. He was tapping his foot against the cobblestone, the hood of his Nike rain jacket pulled over his head completely, while his hair was covered by a black beanie. Even being so covered up he was still so good looking. I opened the door for him, allowing him inside.

“Hi there,” He grinned as I welcomed him in. I’d love to chat but ‘m actually bout to wee my pants. Give me a moment please.”

Harry then fast walked his way over to the bathroom, obviously familiar with the floor plan. He must’ve stayed in one of the smaller cottages before. The smell of his heavenly cologne suffocated the room instantly. I knew I’d still be smelling it lingering in the air even later on tonight.

All the rushing to get ready and let him in, I wasn’t even focused on my stomach which was knotting like crazy. It felt like it could explode from nerves at just any minute. I don’t remember ever feeling this nervous when I had to see him. Granted I’ve only seen him those two times, but I played it off so cool then. I think I was just working myself up over nothing right now.

I heard the sound of running water and momentarily the steps of his shoes making their way back over to me.

“Can we redo the greeting?” He questioned with a big smile.

“Ok..”

“No, ‘m actually just going to pop outside, knock again and everything,” Harry insisted seriously.

“I’ll pretend like you didn’t just rush to the bathroom like a toddler who hasn’t gone to the bathroom all day,” I agreed, going along with his little act.

“Great.”

Harry popped open the front door, shutting it behind him and going back into the hazy morning air, doing a quick spin before making contact with the door once again.

Knock.

I couldn’t help but giggle as I opened up the door for him the second time.

“Morning Colette, how are ya doing on this fine September morning?” Harry asked me extra cheerily, creeping in for a hug. I embraced him back, the scent of his cologne engulfing my senses once again.

“Doing just fine Mr. Styles. Could I offer you some tea?” I asked in a proper tone, putting on my best imitation of a British accent.

Harry rolled his eyes, breaking the act...”That’s the best you got? You’ve only bloody been staying in England for a whole month.”

“Is it that bad?” I asked appalled.

“Terrible.”

“Better luck next time.” I sighed jokingly.

“Don’t even try. I like your voice just how it is naturally, anyway,” He spoke honestly. The second it left his mouth he too looked taken aback at the compliment he had just thrown at me.

“Want to go get those books?” I suggested awkwardly, dismissing his compliment and changing the topic. Back to business.

Harry seemed surprised by how I brushed it off and maybe even a little embarrassed, his finger began fiddling with his bottom lip. I was starting to pick up that was a little thing he did when he was nervous.

“The books. How could I forget,” He replied dully.

“If i’m being honest I don’t even know where a book store is around here,” I huffed.

“I do,” He smirked.

“Well that’s no help considering I’m going by myself,” I rolled my eyes back at him playfully.

Harry was leaning his body weight on the wooden table by the entrance, a huge smirk painted on his face.

“Guess you’re outta luck then.”

“Would it be bad if I asked for you to come with and guide me?” I asked bravely. I was taking myself by surprise with how upfront I was being towards him. It was just so hard not to be when he was just so normal.

His face dropped a little. I couldn’t tell what sort of reaction he was feeling towards my question but he looked upset. I instantly regretted it because I know my request was about to be rejected.

“As much as I’d love to...” Harry began. “I can’t.”

“Stupid of me to ask,” I replied casually brushing it off. I wanted to change the topic.

“No, it’s not. Maybe I’m better off ordering books online, anyways.”

“I mean, I could still, go get it for you. Something to do.”

Harry brushed it off, shoving his hands in his sweat pockets. “Nope, don’t want you to anymore..the ratings weren’t even that good.”

Oh wow, Harry has some pettiness in him. I couldn’t blame him though. I think anybody else would feel the same way. I wanted to just reach out and tell him I knew why he wanted that book, and that it’s not even worth a bother. I really felt for him. I too had a bad ex, as we typically all do. I can’t say it was as bad as Harry’s past relationship, but mine was bad in it’s own unique way.

“Fuck it.” He mumbled before turning his gaze back towards me. “Let’s go get them books.”

I was surprised, “Really?”

“I hate to do this and act like a macho pop star  but ‘m really gonna have to go incognito. Can’t even step out the car with ya unfortunately, but I’ll drive us.”

My heart warmed at his offer, I knew he was probably going against what his strict hiding rules were in order to go through with this. If he was just driving a heavily tinted car though, was there still a way for paparazzi to notice him? I was excited, I think he could tell because he let out a small giggle, shaking his head.

“Let’s hit the road then!” I exclaimed.

“After you,” He grinned, holding the door open in front of me and leading me to his car.

_________________

The ride with Harry was going well. He had a incognito get up of sunglasses, a beanie and his hood up, making sure there was no way someone could detect it was him. His car smelled like fresh leather and mint, there was an abundance of chewing gum packets stashed in the front compartment of his car along with miscellaneous receipts. Lucky for the both of us, the roads were almost completely clear and there was no traffic heading into town.

Harry was just as attractive looking while driving as I thought he would be. To be fair there was something so enticing about having any guy drive all manly and taking control. But especially Harry driving was a beautiful sight to see. The background music of the radio was humming in the background as the two of us chatted along casually.

“How are you going to recommend me a book if you can’t even come in?” I questioned him.

He turned to me, “Who said I’m not coming in?”

“You did!”

“Might just be your lucky day then,” He smirked. “Do you have a good recommendation in mind for me? Shall we surprise one another?”

I nodded my head, “Sounds like a plan.”

“No soppy romantic books, please,” He scoffed.

“But those are my favorites!”

“Don’t care. I’ve probably read all the best of them anyways,” Harry argued back, a huge smirk painted on his face.

Deep down I knew already which book I was going to pick out for him if it was there. I didn’t care if it was a romantic one or not because I had a feeling he hadn’t read it yet and I had an ever greater feeling that he’d fall in love with it.

The two of us went back and forth chatting to each other another until we began to reach a cobblestone path that led to a small selection of shops. The plaza was secluded and had just a few small buildings overgrown with ivy unevenly placed amongst one another. I’d say there was a max of 5 or 6 cars in the whole parking lot. To be fair, we were pretty far out of town I’d say we had been driving for at least 20 minutes.

“You ready?” He questioned. I could tell there was a hint of nerves in his voice. He was awkwardly fiddling with his wallet and pushing his hood down. He was now just left with his oversized black beanies and sunglasses as his ‘disguise.’

“Are you sure you want to do this? You don’t have to,” I insisted earnestly. I didn’t want to push him to be in a situation that could get messy really quick.

“I’ll be fine here,” Harry reasoned, turning his gaze to the entrance of a little shop by the name of ‘Greg’s Books and More.’

“If anything goes bad, it wasn’t my fault!”

I didn’t want to be responsible for anything that might ensue, after all Harry was the one who insisted to walk in the shop with me. I had a good feeling that we’d be set though, there was literally nobody around and we were far from any major city with large amounts of people.

The two of us hopped out simultaneously shutting the car doors together. Walking side by side with him in the bright daylight made me more aware of the height difference between us, one I had barely ever noticed before. His single strides were equivalent to almost double mine and his shoulders were just a slight amount higher than my eye level.

“Good morning!” A sweet old man, short and stout greeted us from behind a counter of the shop. Harry and I both waved back.

“Morning sir, how are ya doing today?” Harry asked kindly, stopping short to stand and talk to the man.

“Just having a cuppa, enjoying the Sunday,” The man replied. “Let me know if you two kids have any questions.”

I shot the man another small smile before turning to Harry. “May the best book picker win?” I joked.

“You’ve got 10 minutes.”

“1...2..” I began counting down, but before I could even reach the number three, Harry was already rushing to the rows of books, an agenda already on his mind. He seemed so confident in what he was going to pick that I soon began to re think what I was going to choose for his book.

I hurriedly rushed to the other side of the bookstore, scanning the shelves with my eyes. The shop was small and I could hear Harry rummaging through shelves on the opppsite side. I had 10 minutes to find the book I had in mind, something I loved that I wanted to pass on to Harry.

The thought of trading off books to someone who a very intimate gesture, an invitation to be apart of another’s brain. I still couldn’t believe I was here right now with Harry Styles, a now friend, spending my Sunday out and about the town. I knew it was my day off but I knew when I arrived back to my cottage I’d want to inform Eve.

As my eyes panned over the endless covers and names of authors and titles a familiar bright blue and green cover popped up. Ah, I knew what this was. Before I had even fully removed it from the shelf, the yellow cursive script was already showing.

Love is a Mix Tape.

Given his career in music I knew right away this would be the perfect book for him. I had read it months ago, but the impact it left on me remained the same. A story not specifically circled around romance, but hints at the struggles of love and loss. It was funny and a joy to read.

I looked over the book making sure there were no imperfections, torn pages or bent covers. Luckily there was none, I angled it to my side hiding it just in case he’d pop out of of nowhere.

Walking up to the cash register there was no sign of him, he was probably still amongst the jungle of books so I took this as my invitation to check out.

“Hi,” I chirped to the old man who sat behind the desk, his glasses almost falling off his face as he read through the book in front of him.

“Hello there love, you all set?” He asked, walking over to the vintage-like cash register.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I put the book down between us already beginning to reach in my purse for my wallet. I really hoped Harry hasn’t read this one yet.

“Can I just give you money to cover both my book and the other customers? Like, pass it on..” I spoke handing the man almost triple the amount of my single book. He looked at me inquisitively and then began to smile.

“I’m sure that young man will appreciate it,” He smiles, a glimmer of knowingness in his eyes.  I knew the gesture was small and i knew money was not a problem for him but I had such an urge to just do it anyways.

I thanked the man as he wrapped up the book and placed it in a brown paper bag, graciously taking it from him. Harry was still amongst the jungle of shelves and I didn’t want to prowl or cause attention so I decided to wait outside the store. The air was fresh and crisp, the sound of chirping birds and whistling trees engulfed my senses. I’m almost sure Harry had reached his 10 minute mark, but I wasn’t going to rush him. I had a feeling it was a rare occurrence for him to be able to aimlessly shop around, crowd free.

“Ya ready?” His voice erupted behind me, the bell of the door pinging in the quiet air. I turned to face him, his paper bag tucked underneath his arm.

“Not really,” I joked, it wasn’t a complete lie though. I wouldn’t mind shopping around with him in little hideaways all day. Harry caught up to me and we began the short walk back to his car in quiet. As my hand began to reach the handle he quickly swooped in front of me, opening it himself. I looked at him with a stupid look on my face, in awe of a gentleman.

“Oh thanks,” I spoke sheepishly.

“My pleasure.”

I hopped in and moments later Harry was back in the drivers seat beside me pressing the car on and pumping up the heat.

“Thanks, by the way.” He gestured to the paper bag.

“Oh, not a problem at all! Random acts of kindness or whatever,” I brushed it off.

“Not used to someone covering the bill,” He admitted. “Not like that type of stuff matters to me.”

“Well don’t even worry about it.”

“I’ll get you back next time,” He noted.

Next time. So there’s going to be a next time? A next time of us going to the book store? A next time of us hanging out? A next time of what?

“Should we swap these books or what?” I questioned, changing the topic once again.

“So eager, huh?” Harry laughed.

“Well we’re just sitting here in a empty parking lot, you have any other suggestions?”

“You’re right,” He quipped. “Here you are then.”

The two of us exchanged the bags. He lifted it to his ear, shaking it as if it was a surprise gift and he was trying to guess what it could be.

“Just get on with it!” I exclaimed.

“Hush, hush.” He began opening it, very carefully, soon revealing the book I had chosen for him.

“Lucky for you, I’ve never read this. Thank you,” He seemed very grateful as he looked over the front cover, going back and forth between the pages quickly. “I’m excited.”

“Thank God,” I huffed. “I was nervous you’d have read it before.”

“Nope, never. You did good,” Harry compliments, his eyes falling back to my unopened bag in my hands. “Now it’s your turn.”

Oh, yeah.

“I hate when people watch me open stuff,” I admitted. My hand was toying with the bag as I looked at him nervously. I didn’t like people watching me because I was afraid that I wouldn’t give off the right reaction to whatever they may have given me. It was too much pressure, and especially Harry watching me so intently it made me nervous.

“Want me to turn away?” He offered earnestly. “I know people like that, my sister.”

“Maybe just like causally look out the car or whatever.”

Immediately he began fiddling with his windshield wipers, intently focusing on them as if they were some sort of puzzle. I wanted to tell him not to use them when it wasn’t raining and it’d damage the car, but I’m sure he knew that. I took that as my queue to quickly unpack-age the book, afraid he might cause damage.

When I opened it up it revealed not one but two books. The one on top made my heart sink, I recognized the title right away. It was his ex girlfriends book. Why would he give this one to me? Should I act like I know what it is and what it’s about? No. Play dumb. Underneath it though, was a book by the name of ‘Betting On The Muse’ by Charles Bakowski. Ah, poetry.

“You done yet slowpoke?” Harry interrupted  my thoughts, the two books sat between my lap.

“You can look,” I complied. “Are they both for me?”

“Yes,” He replied simply. “But, I have some stipulations.”

“This wasn’t a part of the deal.”

“I would like if you read the Bukowski book first. It’s poems, I want you to read them and guess which one is my favorite when you’re finished,” He instructed sweetly. Although there was direction in his tone, it came off so kind. “As for the other one..” He paused and then let out a huff.

“I don’t even want you to touch it,” He continued. “Don’t look it up, reviews, synopsis...anything.”

“Okay,” I agreed. I was confused but I didn’t want to let that on.

“One day, if I give you the ‘ok’ I want you to read it. If you want. You don’t have to listen to me by any means, but yeah,” He finished awkwardly.

“So just hold onto it?” I asked, holding up the Truth Be Told book. His eyes glimpsed down to it before quickly shooting back up to meet my gaze. The cover was what I was assuming to be her, his ex. Her hair was messy, lips full, topless with her arms covering her breasts in shades of black and white.

“Yeah, just hold on to it,” He stated.

“You’ve got my word,” I smiled. I could feel the tension in the car and I didn’t want it anymore. This was supposed to be a lighthearted excursion and I wanted to keep it that way.

“Great, well thank you for the books. I’ll start mine right away,” Harry began as he started the car once again. “You ready to take back off?”

I nodded watching him look over the book I had gotten him one last time. He smiled at it before turning to smile towards me. I smiled back. He then brought his hand to the radio, clicked a few things on his iPhone and then turned the notch up loudly. As he began to pull out of the cobblestone parking lot, the beautiful sound of his voice filled the car. This time it was in song.

[issabakugodrangeel]

9 Dorks SKZ 10th Member Au

Summary: Lisa meets the boys and gives Chan her answer

Warnings: none 

Lisa’s P.O.V

After talking to Chan about him letting me in the group. He wanted me to meet the other members before I make up my mind. He told me to get ready at 7PM and gave the place they’re eating at.

Of course, I made sure to shower and dress casually. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. I was never really good at being in groups and making friends. I've always been independent.

I looked up my phone and it read 6:40 PM. Decided to leave my place early just too see who the other members look like. I doubt they'll like me tho. I don't look anything like them.

-----

It's a good thing I left early there was an accident around the corner, slowing people down. By the time I made it to the restaurant, it was already 6:58 PM.I texted Chan saying I was here and he would meet me in the front door.

"Hey, glad you can make it." He opened the door and had a huge smile on his face, like the one where he told me that he wanted me in his group.  

"I did promise I'd showed up didn't?" I told him walking in.

"You did. Come on, the guys are waiting." His hands told me to follow him. He lead me to a rounded table were I saw 8 other younger males. To be honest they were all pretty cute now, I'm questioning my sense of fashion.

"Guys, this is Lisa, Lisa this is the boys." Chan introduce me. They all were looking at me. "Um, Hi." I bowed down to them feeling a little nervous. "Hi." they all said bowing down as well. For some reason I had this good vibe coming from them like I've known them my whole life.

I then notice someone familiar. Well they all were I've seen them in building time to time but one stood out to me.

"Felix?!" I looked at him confused.

 “Noona!?:" I'm guessing he was confused on seeing me too.

"You two know each other?" One that looks like squirrel asked us.

"Uh yeah, we have private Korean classes together." Felix mentions. JYP thought it would best if we both were thought by the same teacher, since we're both foreigners. JYP also thought it would help Felix more too since he was new too. I didn't mind it, it was just the two of us and we both helped each other outs. At least I know one other person in the group, who doesn’t hate me. I think. 

"Anyways you can sit next to me, Lisa." Chan scooted over so I can joined. "Thanks." I smiled placing my bag down.

"Hi, I'm Woojin." The guy that was sitting on the other side from Chris greeted.

"Hi, I'm Minho." the guy next to him winked at me. I didn't think too much of it. I heard from others that he's a good dancer.

"Hi, I'm Changbin dark rapper."

"I think I heard you rap before, you're really good." I complimented him. "Ah! Thanks!" He blushes.

"Hello, I'm Hyunjin."He spoke in english I gotta say his english was good and he was so handsome too. Like god damn, he could be a god damn model.

"Hi, Han Jisung." wow he does really look like a cute squirrel.

"And you already know ya boi Felix." His deep Australian voice always shook me. Like he's 17 and he has the voice of 40 year old.

"Hi, I'm Seungmin." This one also spoke in english well. Damn can they all speak english?

"Hi noona I'm jeongin, I'm the youngest here." He was so cute smiling with his braces. My heart went Uwuw like I need to protect this child at all cost. 

"Noona?!! How old are you?" Jisung asked me.

"Oh, I'm a 97liner." I smiled nervously.

"Wow you’re tiny for a noona." Hyunjin jokingly teased me.

"Bro" Felix nudge him.

"sorry." Hyunjin apologized

"It's fine I'm used it." I assured him I can tell he still a bit guilty. I didn’t really like it when people teased me for my height but I’ve grew to get over it. 

"Join the club." Changbin took a sip of his drink.I laughed.

"It's okay she can be our big, tiny noona." Minho smiles at me giving me a new nickname.  

"I like that." I smiled at the name. 

"Looks like you're the same age as me and Chan. Finally another parent to help keep these kids in check." Woojin teased. We laughed.

“EH, wouldn’t be too sure about that hyung. She may be older but she acts like a child sometimes.” Felix corrected I eyed him. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Last week you were crying because you couldn’t find your airpods.” He chuckles. I frown giving up. The rest of the boys just laughed. 

"So, what's the age range here?" I asked after the waiter brought me my drink.

"16-20" Chan pointed out. I almost choked on my drink as they all chuckled. Damn they are young.

"You, me and Woojin are 97lines, Minho is 98, Changbin is 99, Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix and Seungmin are 00, and Jeongin here is 01." Chan put an arm around him. What the hell!!Damn I feel old.

"Don't worry Chan and I both feel old too." Woojin giggles. I hope I didn’t say that out loud. 

"So, noona, you must be the girl Chan Hyung keeps talking about." Jisung mentions going back to that topic. I'm surprised that he talk about me.

"You talk about me?" I tried to tease him. Which worked cause I thought I saw him blush. He just let out a laugh.

"We-Well, like I said... I always had you in mind to our group. I wasn’t just gonna choose any girl." Chan played with his drink. Does he really think I'm that good. I just smiled.

“Thanks for being my personal stalker.” I teased he froze, causing the guys to snicker. “I’m joking.” I elbow him. He relaxed again. 

"Noona, what position are you in for?" Hyunjin asked me.

"Oh, um...."

"She everything, does sing, rap and dance. Oh she also produces her own stuff right Noona?" Felix rambled.

"Bro how do you know this?" Minho questioned him. He froze for a minute.

"Uh, Korean classes duh." He smily says trying to avoid it. Felix is always good listener. We all just shrugged it off.

“Cool, so you write lyrics too?” Changbin asked me. I nod. “But, they’re not the good.” 

“Are you serious. Your lyrics are amazing.” Felix points out. A smile appeared on my face. These guys are really something else. 

“So, I guess you can be on the production team with Changbin, Jisung and I. we call ourselves 3racha.” Chan mentions. I kinda like that idea. Back in B.A.P the music producers wouldn’t let me or Zelo help out with productions.

"Noon, tell us a bit about yourself seeing hyung and Felix already know you." Seungmin suggested. I nod.

-----

After a few hours pass we all got to know each other very well. It's ironic how we all have something in common. All this time talking we kept on laughing our ass's of seeing much of dorks these kids are. They each showed me their talents and I gotta say they might young but y’all they got talent. I can see why Chan picked them out. He picked the right people. 

Since I've been here I didn't have anyone judge me or say something rude about my race. I think it was Changbin that asked my race but they didn't seemed bother by it. Jisung commented saying I don't look Mexican at all lol. To be honest I love hanging out with them. It feels like we've belong together.  I haven’t felt this way in such a long time. 

"What do you say, Lisa wanna join our family?" Chan asked as everyone locked eyes with mine. At first I didn't know how it'd would work out 9 guys and 1 female. But after today I think if I say no I know I'd regret this. They're a bunch of lovable dorks.

"Say yes noona." Jeongin clapped his hands together giving me the puppy eyes. They all this look in their eyes of pleading.

I bit my lower lip before giving out my answer. I can feel the tension in the air.

I take one good look at each of them. "Looks like I have 9 brothers now?" I brightly smiled at them. 

Once they heard my answer they grew huge smiles on their faces.

"Are you saying yes?" Seungmin questioned me one last time.

"I couldn't ask for a better team." I laughed.

Chan placed his hand in the middle as the other's did to I place mine last. "Lisa welcome to Stray Kids." everyone shouted the name of the group as we lifted our hands up and cheered.

"Stray Kids. I like that."

"We all thought about it. We would've waited for you but I was just too nervous to talk to you." Chan admits.

"The names perfect don't worry. Everyone will like it. I'm sure." I was still confused as to why he would be confused to talk to me.

"I always wanted a sister." Minho said. He told me he was an only child so he never had any siblings other than his cats.

"yeah. I feel like having you in our group, I mean family is going to be special." Changbin nods.

“Very special.” Hyunjin points out. 

"I promise you guys, I won't let you down." I'll show them the best I have to offer them.

"Don't worry you'll be fine." Woojin places his hand on top on mine giving it a squees.

I then remember about Ryujin her friends. I knew how much they wanted Chan to pick one of them if they find out I was the one he picked my life will be a living hell.

"Noona, you okay? Your face went pale?" Felix raised his eyebrow at me. I can't tell them about what's happening me with them. Since Jisung are friends with them. I was surprised he didn’t bring them up. I don’t know if they talked about to him.  I'm new so they probably won't believe me of the things they have done.

"Oh, uh yeah. Actually, can we not tell anyone that I'm the 10th member. I know there were rumors going around Chan looking for a female member and they've all been excited about it so i don't wanna crush the news just yet." I explained to them without telling them that the girl trainees haven't been really nice to me.

They all looked at me funny. "Well, JYP already know who was going to be our 10th member but, yeah we won't say anything." Chan pats my shoulder. Damn he really wanted me to joined that bad huh.

"We should get going it's getting late and we practice tomorrow, I bet you do too." Woojin looked at the time on his phone. I looked at mine he's right.

"Wow I didn't even realize it was getting late." I said surprised.  

"Hey, noona can we exchanged numbers to contact you." Jisung asked me. Oh right I for got about that. We need to be in touched now.

"Sure here." I wrote my number down on a napkin and they all besides Felix took our their phones to add mine. I passed my phone around so they can enter theirs. Felix has mine from class.

"I'll text you more info about when we're on the survival show." Chan mentions picking up his coat.

I nod in response as we all got up and bundled up. it was fall time here in Korea and just like Chicago weather it's freakin crazy.

--------

"Is your dorm far from here? We can walk you? It's late after all." Hyunjin asked as being outside.

"You guys don't have too, it's a few blocks around the corner." I pointed to the direction.

"That's where our dorm is too." Seungmin mentions shivering from the cold.

"Come on guys we're walking our noona home." Minho locked arms with me. Taking me on ahead.

"You really don't have too." I tried to protest I didn't want to bother them.

"Nonsense. You shouldn't be walking by yourself out this late anyways. We gotta protect our sister from the bad guys." Chan announced. 

“Oh, my knights and shinning armors.” I teased. 

"Wait hyung!" Felix shouts, catching up to me and Minho and locked my other arm. I just smiled. What a bunch of dorks honestly. I’ve know I said it so many times but they are. 

This is going to be fun!!! I love my new 9 brothers.

Lisa SKZ 10th Member Masterlist

[linoloverimagines]

Problem (HYUNJIN X READER FEAT. FELIX) ANGST

Problem (HYUNJIN X READER FEAT. FELIX) ANGST

Hi guys! I’ve received your requests, I’ll get to them as soon as I can. I just had to write this quick one shot of Hyunjin first, I was inspired by Adventure time’s song “I’m just your problem.”

Aside from 3rcha, stray had other producers working on their music and you were one of them. You have worked with them since pre-debut and despite of your young age, JYP had entrusted you to help out with them.

You have gotten close to the boys most especially 3racha since they were the main producing team of the group, but aside from them you have grown an interest on their main dancer and rapper, Hwang Hyunjin.

He wasn’t your typical type, since he was usually quiet yet very clingy to his other members. However, he did like to critique your suggestions and contributions, which you appreciated since a little constructive criticism always helped you improve.

You were shy but you were bold, you tried asking him out for coffee in the company’s cafeteria, and he happily agreed.

Your little coffee dates started becoming a weekly thing for you guys, you bonded and found out that you two were more similar than it seems.

It felt nice being around him

The other members teased you both relentlessly, except one member, Felix who seemed to get annoyed when you and Hyunjin were being shipped together.

One day, Felix finally confessed that he had a crush on you and you were absolutely shocked.

He said he admired how hard you worked and your talent for producing and writing, he also found you very pretty which made you blush a shade of tomato red. After his confession, he finally asked you out

“…Would you like to go out with me?” Felix shyly asked

“Um…” You were dumbfounded

“If it’s because of Hyunjin, I totally understand.” He replied

“No no no, Hyunjin and I aren’t dating. We just like hanging out” You awkwardly laughed

It was partly a lie, you didn’t know what to answer because you still did have a crush on Hyunjin, but your coffee dates had lasted for more than a year, and he still hasn’t asked you out. Do you really think there’s a chance that he will like you back the same way? Felix was a great guy, he was handsome, he had a hypnotic voice, he was talented and nice too, his great physique was just an added bonus. So, why would you pass up a great opportunity like this for something unsure?

“….So, what do you say?” Felix asked again

“Sure, why not?” You giggled

You and Felix started off in cute little dates in non-famous restaurants, so dispatch or fans couldn’t see you both. Spending time with him was nice, you felt so comfortable and warm whenever you hung out with him.

You hung out with Hyunjin less frequently since you opted to spend it with Felix instead, since he was technically your boyfriend now. None of the members knew until Jisung caught you and Felix kissing in their shared room

“Y/N AND FELIX ARE DOING NASTY THINGS IN OUR ROOM! CHAN-HYUNG!” Jisung screamed

“Jisung, shut up!” Felix glared

Before you knew it almost every member was huddled near the door to look at you both, you shyly got off Felix’s lap and looked down.

“You two are dating?!” Changbin asked

“Yeah.” Felix simply replied

You looked up and saw Hyunjin with a stoic expression on his face as Felix confirmed your relationship. You didn’t know why, but you felt an ounce of guilt.

“Ah cute.” Chan smiled

“…But don’t have sex in the dorms, or at all or at least just don’t get her pregnant Felix, we still have world tours.” Chan added and Felix just chuckle in response.

“C’mon guys. There’s nothing here to see…” Woojin said as he tried to pull the other members out of the room to leave you and Felix

“it’s my room too!” Jisung protested

Days have passed since the incident, and you tried your best to ignore Hyunjin’s expression that was basically imprinted in your brain. You and Felix were just hanging out in your apartment and he was going through your stuff, which you didn’t really mind.

“What’s this?” Felix got a hold of a little pink notebook

“oh, that’s one of my song books. When I get inspired to write something, I scribble it down there.” You explained, you had nothing to worry about right? If he went through it

“Hey, this is a nice song. “Prince bubblegum?”’ Felix smiled at the title as he read the lyrics

You jaw dropped realizing that was an unfinished song you wrote about Hyunjin when you still liked him

“Who’s it for?” He asked

“Oh, some just some K-drama actor I used to like a few months ago before we started dating…” You lied

“I think the lyrics are pretty good, we might use this as a chorus or something.” He suggested

“Oh no no, it’s really just an unfinished thing…I can write something else for you guys, I don’t even think Chan would like it or approve it it.”

“Trust me, he will.” Felix gave you a reassuring smile

“….No no, it’s okay. I can do better, promise.” You insisted

“C’mon baby, for me? Even though it was for some actor, I think the lyrics are really nice and it would be a shame if people didn’t get to hear it. Open it up to the rest of the group, please?” He gave you his puppy dog eyes which you couldn’t resist

“Fine…” You reluctantly agreed, boy this is going to be awkward

“So, Y/N. Felix told us you had some really good lyrics that you can share for us today.” Chan smiled

“Uhhh.yeah.” You replied

“Well let us hear it.” Jisung encouraged you to start

“I’m not really sure if it’s stray kids material…..I made it from more than a year ago and I don’t think it matches your style now. ” You really did not want to sing it out loud especially with Hyunjin in the room

“C’mon! we’re already here, let’s here it!” Jeong-in excitedly encouraged you, and how can you say no to such a cute smiley maknae?

“Okay..Fine.” You took a deep breath

“Ladadada, I’m gonna bury you in the ground…ladada…I’m gonna bury you with my sound.” You started and some of the boys started to nod in approval

“I’m gonna drain the red from your pretty plump lips..” You tried not to make eye contact with anyone while singing that line

“I think it’s inappropriate and distasteful.” Hyunjin interrupted you.

“…Oh, you don’t like it?” You asked

“Yeah, I hate it actually. It’s pretty sub-par and not up to stray kids standards. Like your song-writing skills” Hyunjin bluntly replied, he used to give you a lot of constructive criticism, but now it seems like he’s doing it to hurt you.

The members looked at him wide-eyed and Felix elbowed him “Hey, don’t talk to my girl like that.”

Hyunjin shoved away his arm “Fuck off and go back to Australia.”

Hyunjin stood up and stormed out of the room

“What’s eating him?” Jisung asked in the midst of the awkward silence

“I think, I should go talk to him.” Chan stood up

“No, I think I should. I think this is about our friendship or something…I’m sorry.” You quickly got up and followed Hyunjin out on of the building’s terraces

“Do you not like the lyrics? Or are you just mad at me?” You confronted him

He snickered at you mockingly “I’m sorry I don’t treat you like you’re perfect and that everything you do for the group is amazing.”

“That’s not what I meant, Hyunjin.” You crossed your arms and he walked closer to you

“Well, sorry I don’t treat you like how Felix does, is that why you stopped hanging out with me to date him? I must be such an inconvenience to you.” He was close enough to put your hair behind your ear

“What are you getting at, Hwang?” You were evidently frustrated. “….I’m sorry, I’m not made out of sugar….was I not sweet enough for you? Is that why you decided to choose Felix over me?” He leaned down and your lips were almost touching

You froze, not knowing what to do.

I want to end it in a cliffhanger hehe, sorry!

[lunatens]

campus antics (ii)

read part I here!

words: 1891

genre: fluff (wow what a surprise)

pairing: han jisung x gender neutral reader

summary: college!au where jisung’s the cute, popular kid you’ve got an intense hallway crush on, but you can’t seem to avoid embarrassing yourself every time you talk to him

a/n: the long awaited part 2!!! it’s finally done!! sorry for making y’all wait, I was having a lot of trouble with this agh but I hope it’s a good sequel to the first part <3 

song rec: i wanna write you a song - one direction

~

“y/n please stop that, you’re rattling my glass,” minho says, glancing across your tiny dorm room table at you. you realize you’ve been anxiously bouncing your leg, causing the table to tremble. you stop, sending minho an apologetic look. he’s slouched in one of the chairs, lazily browsing through his phone in one hand and groping for his drink with the other. you, on the other hand, are a ball of tension, your nonstop fidgeting and constant glancing at the clock a clear display of nerves in anticipation of your date with jisung.

“hey, you’ve still got half an hour before you’re gonna meet him. at least try to relax a little, you’re stressing me out,” minho says, putting down his phone. “besides, you look great anyways.”

“i dunno minho, i feel like i should change...”

“NO! no changing! you’ve already switched your outfit like 20 times, this one is fine,” minho protests. you know he’s here to support you but he’s clearly becoming fed up with all your anxious waiting. 

~

eventually, the time comes for you to leave. you lock the door to your dorm and you and minho part ways. minho promises to keep his phone nearby in case you need anything, but you know he’s hanging out with seungmin tonight so he probably won’t see it for a while.

you walk across campus, the summer air beginning to cool as the first leaves start turning colours. you’ve always loved this time of year, and you find yourself walking towards the library whilst staring up at the trees that line the campus pathway, taking in the transitions of green to yellow to orange to red. your foot catches on the sidewalk and you stumble, limbs flailing as you fall to the sidewalk. you managed to brace your fall with your hands, but you pout as you examine your scraped up palms.

“y/n, are you okay??” a voice calls from behind you, and you groan as you recognize the voice—of course jisung had to see you make a fool of yourself yet again.

“yeah, i’m fine,” you say as you sit up. jisung pulls you upright, and you wince at the stinging sensation in your palms. you’re standing right in front of jisung now, and he gently takes your hands in his to examine them.

“ouch, that looks kinda painful. here, we’re really close to the music studio—there’s a bathroom in there we can use to clean you up,” he says, looking at you with a smile. “your hair’s all messed up,” he says, and as his hand moves to your head you’re expecting him to fix it; you let out a shriek of laughter when he just messes up your hair even more.

“hey!!” you yell, trying to escape from jisung. he holds up his hands in innocence, a goofy smile on his face.

“okay, i promise i’m done. let’s go inside,” he says, and you squint at him suspiciously. you reach out and ruffle his hair in return; jisung tries to duck out of the way but fails.

“there! now we’re even,” you say triumphantly. you beam at jisung and he rolls his eyes, then loops his arm through yours and leads you inside.

“sit here,” jisung says, tapping the counter in the bathroom. he turns on the tap as you hop up, swinging your legs while you watch him forage in a cupboard for a band aid.

“jisung i’m not even bleeding,” you say as he pulls out a box.

“i don’t know first aid! i just know band aids are supposed to make everything better. i’m trying to be cute and stuff here y/n, just bear with me,” jisung says. you laugh at him, elated to finally be getting to know the boy you’ve liked for so long.

“okay we should probably rinse your scrapes, here,” he says as he guides your hands under the running water. you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing at how focused and serious he looks, trying to be as gentle as possible with you. once he’s satisfied, he turns off the tap and hands you some paper towel.

“i’d rather air dry them,” you say with a cheeky smile, waving your hands in the air and flicking water at jisung.

“aghh!!” jisung yells in surprise. “i’ll get you back for that,” he says, turning on the tap to wet his own hands before splashing you. laughing, you raise your hands up in defence. as you lean back away from jisung, your head collides with the mirror behind you with a dull thud.

“ouch,” you say, rubbing the back of your head.

“oh my god, y/n, what am i going to do with you?” jisung says, concerned but still affectionate. “now sit still so i can put this band aid on you,” he says, and you hold out your hands towards him. he carefully peels the paper off, then gently sticks the bandaid over your scrapes.

“there, all better,” he says, clearly proud of himself.

“you’re forgetting the most important step,” you tease, holding your hands out expectantly. jisung’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“but i’m pretty sure i did everything i can...oh!!” he says, grinning at the realization. “does this make it better?” he says, planting tiny kisses on your hands. you giggle at his lips on your skin, glad he picked up what you were hinting at.

“much better,” you say, hopping down from the counter. 

“wanna go get coffee now?” jisung suggests, reaching out to hold your hand.

“um, actually...can you show me around the studio?” you question shyly; you’re always amazed by jisung and when he showed you his song yesterday you wanted to know more about what he does. “i’m really curious. you don’t have to if you dont want to! I just th-” 

“you really want to see?” jisung asks, eyes wide with excitement and a small smile creeps onto his face. you nod, and jisung eagerly leads you to the studio. “it’s the weekend, so none of my classmates should be here,” he adds as he punches in the passcode. the lock beeps and jisung opens the door and flicks on the lights. there’s a few computers, desks, and a projector in the main room, and the recording booth is another room off to the side. jisung eagerly explains what everything is, babbling away and gushing about all things music. it becomes clear to you just how passionate jisung is, but what becomes even clearer is how much it means to him that you seem to care that much about his interests. you watch him in awe as he points things out to you and explains everything.

~

“sorry, I get kind of carried away when I talk about music,” jisung says as sets two beanbag chairs right beside each other in front of the projector screen. you had decided to stay in, order take out to the studio, and just chill and watch a movie instead of going to the coffee shop. you each settle into a chair, and jisung drapes a blanket over the two of you. 

“that’s okay, I like listening to you talk,” you say, turning your head to look at jisung. his gaze sets upon you, and his eyes are full of fondness as he contemplates what to say.

“you know, you’re actually really awesome y/n,” jisung says finally. the movie plays in the background, but neither of you are paying attention to it. 

“you really think so, even thought I've embarrassed myself probably way too many times in front of you?” you question, raising an eyebrow at him.

“it just makes you even cuter than you already are,” he says with a soft laugh and a wink. 

“you think i’m cute?”

“well duh, I mean I wouldn’t be here otherwise,” he says matter-of-factly, taking a sip of his drink.

“oh,” is all you can manage to say, all of a sudden too flustered for words.

“hey jisung, why do you work outside so much when you have this studio here?” you ask after a moment of silence.

“well it started out because it was nice to get some fresh air once in a while, and the picnic tables by the med labs are pretty nice...but then one day I caught this cute person staring at me and I couldn’t help but wonder if they walked by there often so working outside once or twice a week turned into pretty much every day and It turned out that person did, in fact, walk by there often. and then I had the luck of running into them in the hallway--which was a great way to find out your name by the way, thanks for that--and then I figured a good way to talk to them was to show them some of my music and then they spilled their coffee on me and they were so adorable and flustered and I, very bravely I might add, asked them out and then ran away before they could say no and, well, here we are,” jisung rants to you, searching your face for a response to his confession.

“jisung, I-” you begin to reply, not really sure what to say because there’s just too many positive emotions rushing about inside you right now, but he cuts you off.

“oh! I...wrote a song for you, if you wanna listen,” jisung says, pulling out his phone and handing you one of his earbuds. it’s dark in the studio, but you swear you can see a blush. you eagerly accept it, placing the tiny plastic device into your ear.

the song’s soft yet cheerful melody fills your ear, and the more you listen to jisung’s lyrics about you the more you find yourself tempted to lean in closer to him, and the next thing you know, you’ve leaned over and your noses are just barely touching as you hesitate to move any further. jisung seems to sense your hesitation, picking up on your shyness, and he smiles as he tucks your hair behind you ear.

“it’s okay, y/n, you can kiss me,” he says, and he barely makes it through his words before you’re leaning in and your lips are pressed to his in a soft, warm kiss. it’s as if you can feel jisung’s affection for you just by the way he kisses you, and before you know it the song is over. you pull away slightly, still remaining in close proximity to jisung’s face. 

“can you play it again?” you ask, voice barely a whisper. jisung smiles and plants a tiny kiss on the tip of your nose before pulling out his phone to restart the song. he pulls you in towards him and you cozy up into his chest, the weight of his head resting on yours a comforting feeling. 

this night would become the first of many spent staying late in the studio and listening to music together; sometimes having endless conversations that drag into the early hours of the mornings, sometimes saying nothing at all and simply letting the music take over as you enjoy each other’s presence, and you can't help but think to yourself if there ever were such thing as soulmates, you’ve found yours and you’re never letting go.

~

requested by (several) anons <3

[obikinbrainrot]

It’s Me (soulmate!mark)

Summary: In a world where everyone has a tattoo on their wrist that changes every day according to a particular even your soulmate will face today. Sometimes it's promotion, funeral, new pet, or something boring like school, work, and haircut. One day, your soulmate get the words "meeting soulmate."

Genre: fluff, mark x reader

Word Count: 1k

you were born with “first pacifier” in black ink on your wrist

so your parents knew your soulmate was older, but only by a few weeks

(mark’s parents were ecstatic when they saw the words “born” appear on his wrist)

as a baby, not much happened.

“12 hour nap”

“new toy truck”

“mom’s lullaby”

“dad’s birthday”

“first step”

you never understood what they were, but you didn’t question them. it was just part of your body

your tattoo always faded and reappeared with different words at exactly 5pm

(mark’s tattoo changed at exactly 7am. he would always wake up in time to watch it change, smiling when it did)

your parents knew that your tattoo changed when it was midnight in your soulmate’s time and vice versa

in preschool, you see “fought bullies” on your wrist

concerned, you finally ask your parents about the tattoo

they were even more concerned. when they explained everything, you understood why

they suggested that you write in a journal, saying everything you wished you could to you soulmate. when you finally meet your soulmate, you could give it to them

it was a trendy thing

you took out a new notebook

“11/04/XX, ‘fought bullies’”

“i wunt to fite dem to. gud job, solemat!”

“12/02/XX, ‘100 on test’”

“good job! i wunt gud good grads to!”

years passed

you just entered high school, and you know he lives somewhere in the pacific standard time

you still keep up with the journal if you wanted to write something. you already filled the 1st journal, and the 2nd is almost done.

you wrote in it like a diary during middle school

oof you didn’t want your soulmate to read that

before middle school, you thought your soulmate was pretty nerdy. every day was almost just “school” and “study” and “play in snow.”

luckily, there were no more bullies

during middle school, your soulmate seemed to find their passion: music

“guitar lessons” “dance lessons” “songwriting” “first rap”

there was an occasional “story writing”

you wondered what kind of music they liked, what kind of lyrics do they write, what’s their favorite food, where are they?

you were so curious and so impatient to meet them

it didn’t help that one of your friends had already found his soulmate

last year, ten found taeyong, an upperclassman from another school, on instagram.

they were so in love, it was nauseating

but you were envious. they looked so happy together

one day, your tattoo changed to “packing”

then it changed to “moving”

you wrote in your journal, “are you moving houses? i hope it’s not too stressful. take care of yourself”

and you moved on

then something weird happened

your tattoo didn’t change at 5pm like it usually did

“mom? dad? it’s not changing???”

your soulmate moved timezones

all day, you watched it, waiting for it to change

the clock had just struck midnight

the word “moving” faded, and “unpacking” appeared

you fist pumped, jumping up and down in your room. “yES BOI!”

the next few days were mostly “unpacking” and “exploring” with a few “songwriting” here and there

then “first day”

you woke up and smiled, assuming it meant school

you wrote “hope you have a good first day back. fight any bullies!” in your journal.

as class started, your teacher makes an announcement

“everyone, we have a new student. please welcome lee minhyung.”

everyone clapped, but you were like “oh shit”

the cutest boy with the most adorable, puppy-like eyes entered the classroom, and you just stared like an idiot

your... soulmate??

“uh—hEllo. i—uh—go by mark. i’m from vancouver, canada, and i like to—um—write lyrics and play guitar... peace. lezzgEtit. hope we can be friends.”

he looked nervous, but that only made him more cute

you didn’t want to get your hopes up too high. it could be a coincidence

unfortunately, he didn’t sit anywhere near to you, and the teacher was starting class

your knee was bouncing up and down, wanting the class to end as soon as possible

finally, the bell rang, and you had a ten-minute break

you launch from your seat to where mark sat, but he had already gotten up to talk to people

he seemed to be talking to everyone

“i’m mark. i do—play—guitar.”

“i’m mark. i’m from canada. i just moved here.”

“hi, i’m m—uh—hi. i-i like snow. i play in snow a lot.”

finally someone noticed. “wait, mark does that say meet soulmate??”

that caught everyone’s attention immediately

“mark, mine says ‘school’!”

“wait, is your birthday in may?”

“did you get a dog for christmas?”

“what does your soulmate do?”

mark was overwhelmed by the flood of questions

“w-w-w-wait, i-i-i don’t h—my s-soulmate—no, i—”

desperate, you yelled

“mINE IS FIRST DAY AT SChool...”

you realized everyone was quiet and all attention was on you

flushed, you went on

“y-your birthday is august 2nd, you have an older brother, and you once fought bullies when you were younger. you got a 100 on a test for the first time in 1st grade. you once threw up after bad seafood, so i don’t think you like it anymore. you bought from the ice cream man a lot. you’re not very good at science. i think your favorite color is blue because you painted your room blue. you got into guitar first, and then dance, and then song wri-”

mark swiftly lifted you from the chair and hugged you tightly.

“finally. you’re finally here. i wanted to see you so much.”

you couldn’t help the tears welling up as you hugged him just as tightly, ignoring the pictures and videos your classmates were taking.

[silliusssoddus]

Take Another Piece Of My Heart

A/N: I’ve been listening to "Let Me Live" from the Made in Heaven album on repeat and I got the idea of reader living with John as he’s going through Freddie’s death. Also I’m pretty new to this whole writing thing so I’m really sorry this is really bad :/

Warnings: aaangst, mentions of death (Freddie Mercury), inaccuracies, Deacy with a c (lol)

Here’s a goofy gif to ease the pain ;)

You woke up to the familiar smell of your boyfriend’s stench that had been present for the past week. John had barely moved from his bed since the morning you both received a call from Jim, saying Freddie had died the evening before. He’d been quiet ever since, occasionally throwing in a few ‘good morning’s, ‘goodnight’s or ‘I'm not hungry’s’ here and there. You tried your best to leave him be, but you hated seeing him like this.

“Good morning, sweet.” you said as you pecked a kiss at his cheek. He buried his face into his pillow at the feeling of your lips, making you frown. You ran your hand through his hair, ignoring the fact that he flinched at the touch as well. You announced that he should take a bath.

“Bri and Rog want you to be down at the studio today, only if you felt like recording.” He nodded, shuffling and stumbling to the bathroom.

You heard him close the door and lock it. You sighed - he never locks the bathroom door. After opening the windows in the bedroom and making the bed, you made your way to the kitchen to make some cheese on toast for him, hoping that would bring him joy somehow.

While you were pouring the hot water into two cups for tea, you heard him walk into the kitchen. You turned around to talk to him, but your words were quickly replaced by stifled giggles. John had wrapped a towel around his chest, instead of his waist. He somehow found a way to wrap another towel around his head, but what surprised you the most was that the towel didn’t fall. You gave him a light smile as you wrapped the towel in its rightful place and looked up at him. His eyes were avoiding yours.

“Guess I'm too used to taking care of you.” he muttered, so quietly that you almost didn’t catch it. You pressed your lips together as your fingers traced the outline of his jaw. He didn’t like the contact and leaned out of it. You missed the old Deacy, where all he had to do was smile to make you forget your struggles. He wouldn’t sleep until you fell asleep first or get out of bed before you were awake. He’d cuddle you through your nightmares and listen eagerly at every great dream you had.

He’d been so distant lately. It was like he left with Freddie.

“Listen, I get that you just wanna be alone for now but I am here for emotional support, being your girlfriend and all, but only if you want me to be.”

“I'm fine, Y/N, you don’t need to keep asking me,” he said, rather sternly, “and you’re helping me enough.” He sat down at the kitchen counter and took a bite of his cheesy toast.

“Deacy, I know you’re not. And I'm not helping one bit. You’ve been avoiding me, Brian and Rog this whole week. Speaking of, they really wanna finish this album. It might help you clear your mind, doing something you enjoy.”

“I can’t seem to enjoy anything when everything reminds me of him! Especially playing the bass and being with those two,” he raised his voice, making the both of you uncomfortable, “even you remind me of him.” he sighed.

Of course you did. It was Freddie that made him go to a club that night, the same club you happened to be in. He made him talk to you, get your phone number and persuaded him into calling you later that night.

“I'll tell the boys you’re not up for recording today.”

“Thank you...love.” There was a slight sign of uncomfort at the last word, which caused you to shudder.

You really felt useless to him.

The phone call was made. Brian and Roger both understood his reasoning, but they expected something from him sooner than later. You said you’re trying your best and they agreed. John had made himself comfortable on the sofa, his body sprawled across it, staring at the ceiling. You gave him some clothes you found upstairs in his closet and you helped him as he slowly wriggled into them, despite him frequently mumbling that he could do it by himself and that he didn’t need help. You took a seat at the piano next to the fireplace, prodding the keys and playing a familiar tune.

“Monday, start of my holiday. Freedom for just one week, feels good to get away.”

You heard a slight chuckle and you beamed. It worked! He joined you with the second verse.

“Tuesday, I saw her down on the beach. I stood and watched a while, and she looked and smiled at me.” he sang, turning to look at you. You couldn’t help but notice his eyes, glossed with a thin layer of tears.

“Wednesday, I didn't see her. I hoped that she'd be back tomorrow.

And then on Thursday, my luck had changed. She stood there all alone, I went and asked her name. I never thought that this could happen to me in only seven days. It would take a hundred or more for memories to fade.”

You decided to end the song there as John went back to staring at the ceiling in deep thought.

“Y’know, it wouldn’t kill you to listen to your own words.”

“Eh?”

””It would take a hundred or more for memories to fade”? Love, Freddie might be gone, but you can still continue his legacy.”

He broke into tears after that sentence. You abruptly left the piano to kneel next to his head and comfort him.

“Oh, God I'm sorry, I'm really sorry love-“

“N-no it’s not your fault it’s...it’s just the song I-“ he spoke through sobs. You’d never actually seen him cry before, not even after the phone call, and you could feel your heart shattering into a million pieces at the sight of him so broken, “I wanted to write this for you but I couldn’t find the right words. Freddie, he- he helped me so much.”

“And look at how successful this and all your other songs turned out to be. Look at how successful you all are.”

“But that was because of him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Deac,” you said as you sat him up so you could sit next to him. His head automatically fell into your shoulder and you felt the tiniest bit of relief, “you guys are all so good at doing what you do. That’s why millions of people love you and your songs. Hell, I don’t think the name Queen will ever die out.”

“I just- I'm too scared to write a song without having the usual feedback I get from Freddie.”

You cupped his cheek, tilting his head a little to kiss his forehead. You could tell that he was trying so hard to stop himself from flinching.

“Tell you what, since I’ve inspired you before, we’ll go to the studio today and I’ll stay. You can always get feedback from the boys. Or me. Though I’m not as talented.”

He looked up with red eyes and a small Deacy smile that didn’t last long. You wiped away his tears and was about to lean down to kiss his lips, but he seemed to predict that move as he leant his head on the other side of the sofa. Just as you thought things were working out well.

“I love you.” you said as you got up to call Brian and Roger, stroking John’s cheek before you left the room. He didn’t react to that at all.

-

You both walked in to the studio, Deacy carrying his bass with both hands. Brian saw you walk in, frowning at the lack of physical contact between the two of you. He could definitely tell that something was wrong. You hoped he’d ask you later - he gives useful advice sometimes. Roger was standing next to him and when he saw you, he looked more delighted than John recently looked waking up.

“Y/N! Finally!” he ran over to you, kissing your cheek and pulling you into a deep hug, “and Deacy! We’re so relieved you’re here. We really need your expertise.”

“Roger and I have been fighting on how to continue "Let Me Live". It’s the only song we have left of the album, but we’re not gonna release it just yet. Better let the press settle down a bit first.” He let out a sad chuckle when you went to hug him.

“Thought we decided to drop that.” John muttered.

“Ah, we revived it. Anyway, we only have that one verse that Freddie wrote.” Brian finished, scratching his chin with the end of a pencil. John and Roger made their way over and crowded around the various sheets of papers filled to the sides with music notes.

“Why don’t we go for the same melodic structure and just change the lyrics? That way we don’t risk messing up.” John said and the other two seemed to like it. Roger patted John on the back.

“See? This is the genius we were missing.” he said grinning. You laughed at Brian rolling his eyes. John gave a small smile to Roger, but his face quickly turned poker.

“Alright then, let’s just have you improvise and we can gather up some words.” Brian suggested.

“Um, yeah sure.” John never liked singing - he’d only ever do it if it was with you or the band.

“Don’t worry, sweet,” you said, placing a hand on his shoulder, which he wasn’t slow to subtly shrug off. You saw in of the corner of your eye that Brian was looking your way, “just remember what I said. I'm your inspiration, baby.” you said playfully. Nothing. You walked into the control room where Brian and Roger was, ready to press the button and let John sing.

“Okay, "Let Me Live" additional verse, recording one...aaand go.” Brian said, pointing to John and pressing a button that started playing Freddie's vocals.

“Take your time, we’ll just loop the instrumentals and write down the lyrics until you stop.” Roger called out, holding a notebook and pen. John nodded, gluing his eyes on you as his brain visibly whirred.

As the recording of Freddie finished what was then a very short chorus, John started singing.

“Why don’t you take another piece of my…soul? Why don’t you...shape it, and...shake it...ah- um, until you’re really in control. Does that work?” he called out, breaking eye contact with you. Frantically writing, Roger nodded.

“’Good, it’s good. Let’s re-record that part with more confidence this time.” John nodded. As he re-sang the lines, Brian turned to look at you.

“Y/N?” you hummed in response, “Have you noticed that he’s been staring at you the whole time he sang those lines?”

“I told him he could look at me for inspiration. Like how he wrote “In Only Seven Days”?”

“Yes, but that was a love song. This...I'm not too sure what this is, to be honest.”

You paused to hear that John had gone on to complete the chorus and was now working on the bridge with Roger.

“I’ve noticed you two aren’t handsy. Very unnatural - well, for you.” he grinned at you when you playfully shoved his shoulder.

“Thanks for worrying. I guess we all just have different ways of getting through something like this.”

“I guess so. But for the sake of your happiness, I'm gonna call a break so you can talk it out.”

“You’re too kind. Make sure you listen through the tapes.”

“I got it,” he said with a wink, “Alright, great work Deacy. You deserve a break.”

You suddenly felt a wave of fear fall over your body and walked outside to get some fresh air, John following you.

“You alright?” he asked you.

“Those were some pretty harsh lyrics, Deac.” you whispered.

“It’s a pretty harsh song.”

“But you were staring at me while singing it. It’s like you were telling me those exact words.” You bit your lip, he didn’t seem to look guilty.

“I just sang what came into mind when I look at you.” he shrugged.

“You think I'm controlling?” you crossed your arms, trying to mask the growing pain in your chest. Tears started to well up in your eyes.

“No- well...no, that’s not what I meant. It’s just-“ he obviously had something he was hiding.

“What’s wrong, John?” you tried to sound soothing, but it ended up sounding desperate. He was startled at your use of his real name, but his forehead quickly furrowed.

“Look, I’m fine! Could you please stop pestering me!” he shouted at you and you stood in shock, not knowing what to say.

“God, Y/N, this past week I’ve had to deal with your voice constantly repeating the same sentence.” his fists were clenched. You were speechless - in the almost 20 years you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him get visibly mad at anything.

“I- I’m just trying to help-”

“Well, it’s clearly not working! I thought you’d stop after realising it wasn’t.”

“I did, I swear I tried to let you heal by yourself but...Deacy I just love you too much!”

“Yet I don’t feel the same way!” his voice lowered, realising what he said, “not anymore at least.”

You didn’t want to believe it at first. You searched hopelessly in his eyes, trying to find a sign of a joke somewhere, but you couldn’t. Your eyes fell to your shoes as you knew the truth.

“I just- I don’t feel like I can continue this. Us, I mean. Well...Queen and us.”

You felt your heart sink to your feet as the colour drained from your face. He took a deep breath before continuing.

“I’m retiring. I want to finish the album with the boys and then leave. Spend more time with myself. It’s just- it doesn’t feel the same anymore. Not without Freddie.” His voice broke and he rubbed his eyes, “I tried giving it a shot, I can’t, Y/N, nothing feels right.”

“Deacy I-”

“Stop calling me that!”

Your knees were about to give way and your bottom lip started trembling.

“John. things could still work out. You just have tell me what I need to do.”

“I need you to go.” he said sharply. Those words felt like spears going directly through your stomach.

“But John-” you pleaded.

“No, stop. Just- let me live. Leave me alone.” He walked into the studio, leaving you out in the cold.

You hesitated for a few seconds, trying to get some feeling into your legs again and wiping the few drops of tears that had fallen, before walking into the studio. You kept your head down, ignoring Brian’s questions and Roger’s snarky comments on taking a long break. You grabbed your coat and turned to look at the crew for one last time.

“Good luck, you guys. Freddie’s proud of you all.”

You flashed a quick smile to both Brian and Roger as you turned and walked out, hot tears rolling down your face. You could hear John’s voice as they started practicing again.

“Why don't you take another little piece of my life? Why don't you twist it, and turn it, and cut it like a knife? All you do is live, all I do is die…”

You picked up the pace and ended up running down the road, trying to run as far away from his voice as possible, while you sobbed out your heart’s content.

- Part 2

Let me know what you thought! Criticism is openly welcomed :) 

Tags: @notthebackchat @deakyjohns @fatbottomedgorl @fredthelegend

[yeppeojiwrites]

beauty and a beat (unofficial chapter)//bang chan

warnings: a little bit of swearing but like twice so don’t worry

pairings: bang chan x female reader (she’s a little bit of an oc)

word count: 2,499

yo!

so this isn’t an actual chapter of beauty and a beat but it serves as a kind of informational (??is that the right word??) chapter about the relationship between the reader and chan and why chan likes her. there will be more unofficial chapters like this in the future for different characters. 

(previous / next)

plain text is english

bold text is korean

bold italicized text is korean with honorifics (noona, hyung, unnie, oppa, etc.)

--

Chan has had feelings for you from the first time he talked to you. 

In the first video call the two of you had back in May 2018, he found himself enamored of you. He found you so beautiful, with your then chin-length dark brown hair and your milk-chocolate skin and pretty eyes, and the way you talked and explained things...he knew that you would be not only a great musician to have helping his group with their next few albums but a great person for him to have a romantic relationship with. 

The romantic relationship thing fell flat when he found out that you were 17 years old turning 18 while he was 19 years old turning 20. That’s fine, he figured. We can be friends.

His impression of you only grew when he found out that you were basically fluent in Korean. “Why did you learn it?” he asked in genuine interest. 

“I got into K-Pop when I was 10 years old in 2011. My first song was ‘Hot Summer’ by F(X) and not too long after ‘Hot Summer’ was released, ‘Be Mine’ by Infinite came out and by then I was sold.” you started. 

“Ah, I remember when those songs came out! I was 13 years old and it was my first summer in South Korea after I became a trainee,” Chan reminisced. “But continue, sorry.” You smiled and waved off his apology. 

“Don’t worry about it. But as I was saying, in my tween obsession, I took it upon myself to try to learn Korean so I could understand what the artists were saying in their songs. So, I started by watching lyric videos on YouTube and writing down the Hangul and the English translations and then I watched dramas like, um, Boys Over Flowers and The Heirs. By 2015, I could understand and read Korean but my pronunciation was weird so I joined some language exchange apps where I met some really nice people, as well as some really weird older guys, but the really nice people and I exchanged information and we would video chat and after a while my grammar and my speech improved.” you said. “That was a lot, I’m sorry.” you apologized. This time he waved you off. 

“Don’t worry!” he laughed. “So how did you get into music?” he asked you.

“My parents have had me in piano lessons since I was 5 years old and vocal lessons since I was 7, but I stopped after I turned 14. My dad was very involved in music production. He used to write jingles for commercials and he helped make some demos for music made by smaller artists. I think my mom told me that he proposed to her with a song he wrote himself.” you laughed. 

“But when I was 14, my dad got into a really bad car accident and he was stuck in a coma and was basically brain dead, so we...you know. That was a tough time for me but music, especially K-Pop helped me through it. My dad had a small home studio set up in a room in my house and before he passed, my dad taught me how to use everything. So I would do little projects where I made songs that I wanted to hear. The first project that a company decided to use was called ‘Eclipse’ and it was something I made in October 2016 and posted on a website where producers share demos or instrumentals, and production companies can buy them to use in songs. I was contacted in January 2017 by a newer company called Blockberry Creative who wanted to know if they could use my song for their upcoming girl group and I agreed.” 

“Do you know what the song is now?” Chan asked. You nodded. 

“It was released in May 2017 for the debut of the Loona member Kim Lip. They decided to keep the title the same.” you tell him. “Have you heard it?” you asked him. He shook his head. 

“I’ll play it for you,” you said, pulling out your phone. 

“Wait, no.” he says. You look back at your laptop in confusion.

“What?” you asked. 

“Sing it.” he says. 

“It would be better if I played it,” you say shyly. A smile spreads across Chan’s face. 

“You can’t be shy now. We’ve already started the partnership and I’m going to need to hear your voice anyways, so why not start now?” he asks. You bite your lip in hesitation before sighing. 

“Fine, but only because of your dimples.” you agree which causes Chan to laugh. 

“My dimples?” he asks. 

“Yes, now do you want to hear me sing or not?” you ask him in a fake serious tone. 

“Go ahead,” he says. 

“I’ll sing the Korean version since I forgot the lyrics to the demo. Are you ready?” you ask him, a little nervous. 

“I can feel your nervous energy through the screen. It’s fine, don’t worry okay!” Chan reassures you. You sighed one last time before you began. 

“It begins eclipse

In the shaded shadows where you and I meet

It happened in the fate

The light which is lighted by mind of us

Come closer to me

This is eclipse

I can’t keep my eyes off, so will you be with me continually?

Unforgettable eclipse, it’s destiny.” 

Chan felt himself in even more awe. You were nervous for no reason. Your voice’s timbre was beautiful and your breath control and technique had to have been professionally learned.

“How would you feel about joining JYP Entertainment as a trainee?” Chan joked which caused you to laugh. 

“I’ll think about it,” you laughed. 

--

From that night in May, you and Chan created a great friendship. 

You’ve both seen each other at your worst; Chan seeing you at your worst first. Finals week sucks. 

Time differences were very hard. With Seoul being 14 hours ahead of Chicago, someone was always going to bed late while someone was waking up early. Each day that you had school, you would spend a couple hours doing homework before videochatting. Both of you were fatigued for a while but when school ended for summer break, you had much more time to work. 

“Hey Chan?” you asked one night while the two of you were working on “M.I.A”. 

“Hmm?” he hummed as he played a beat over and over again on the computer. 

“Have you heard of this rap group from SoundCloud called 3RACHA?” you asked him. He smiled a bit. 

“Yeah, why?”

“They’re pretty cool and they have really good songs.” you sighed. 

“Yeah, I think they’re really good too,” you said. 

“They haven’t made a song since like 2017 though,” you said before groaning. “They need to comeback so they can save the South Korean rap industry again!” you exclaimed. He laughed. 

“I’m sure they’ll come back soon.” 

“I wonder if they’re handsome,” you tell him, leaning back in your chair. 

“I think they are, especially CB97,” he said, moving a sound clip to a part of a song he was recording. 

“Oh, have you met them before?” you asked, leaning forward in your chair. 

“Yeah, we’re pretty close,” he said. 

“I’m gonna Google them to find a photo,” you declare. 

“Hm, alright,” he responds. 

“Th-ree-ra-chaaaa,” you mumble as you type in the search bar. “Oh, a ‘P.A.C.E’ lyric video!” you say excitedly. Suddenly, your eyebrows begin to furrow. 

“CB Ninety- Chan you motherfu-You’re the fakest person I know! You’re literally the fakest person on the planet!” you yell. 

“So are we hot?” he asks, a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“Choke,” you say flatly, to which Chan laughs. 

--

“Hey Chan, I got an email from this company called KQ Entertainment,” you told Chan one day via FaceTime in September. 

“Oh, Ateez’s company! Changbin knows one of the members.” Chan says. “What did they email you about?”

“They want me to come to South Korea to work as a producer for Ateez’s next few albums. KQ will pay for my living expenses and everything.” you tell him. Chan’s head snaps to face you on his phone screen. 

“Like...this South Korea? The one I’m in right now?” Chan asks dumbfounded. 

“Uh, yeah,” you tell him. 

“Have you talked to your mom about this?” Chan asks, trying to tone down his excitement in the event that you tell him that you can’t go. 

“She says that I can go and my sister thinks that it’s a great idea...” you trailed off. 

“Then why do you sound so sad?” Chan asked you. 

“I visit my dad’s grave every two weeks. I have money saved up from birthdays, Christmas, Easter, royalties, the money from JYP for helping you guys out with I Am Who and I Am You and other odd jobs that I’ve taken up over the years and I can afford to fly to Korea but...I don’t know. I know that some people think of this as a job of a lifetime...but I just...I don’t know, Chan.” you sigh. “What should I do?” you ask him. Chan felt his heart hurt at your facial expression. 

“I don’t know what I would do. If you want to come here, maybe take something of your father’s like a shirt or a photo of him,” Chan suggested. “Wouldn’t you be able to work from your house?” he asked. 

“KQ feels like it would be more efficient if I lived there so I could be easily accessible and so time zones wouldn’t be an issue.” 

“How badly do you want to go?” Chan asked you. You laughed slightly. 

“It’s been my dream since my demo for ‘Eclipse’ was first used,” you tell him. “I hadn’t thought about it prior to my demos being used.” 

“Follow your heart, (Y/N),” Chan tells you. “Do you hear me?” he asks you. You nod. 

“I have to go soon, we have to start filming the music video for the title track that YOU helped me work on in SOUTH KOREA,” Chan said. 

“Are you trying to influence me?” you laughed. 

“Maybe a little bit,” he said. “Bang Chan, we need your for filming!” you heard a voice off-screen. 

“I’ll be right there,” Chan said to the source of the voice. 

“I’ll let you go, Channie. Thanks for listening.” 

“Anytime, (Y/N),” he replies.

“Chan, one last thing!” you tell him. 

“What?” 

“You look really handsome with your curly brown hair.” you tell him. 

“What what-” “See you later, Channie!” you say before hanging up. 

He sighed, his cheeks reddening. Minho came up next to him. “Who were you talking to that has you so flustered?” he asked. 

“No one,” Chan replied, sliding his phone into his pocket. 

“Oh, it was (Y/N), wasn’t it?” Minho said, leaning closer to Chan. 

“No,” Chan said unconvincingly. 

“Yes, it was, you cradle robber!” Minho exclaimed. 

“Are we talking about Chan having the fattest crush on Lav?” Jisung comes over, taking a sip from a bottle of water. 

“No, we aren’t, and no, I don’t have a ‘fat crush’ on Lav,” Chan groans. 

“Oh he totally has a crush on Lav, he’s a cradle robber.” Woojin said, standing up next to the forming group around Chan.

“I’m not a cradle robber!” Chan exclaimed.

“That’s totally something a cradle robber would say,” Jisung whispers to Minho who nods in agreement. 

“I heard that,” Chan warned. 

“What did (Y/N) say?” Changbin asked, coming up from behind Chan. Chan shifted a little bit, knowing his younger member’s feelings towards you. 

“KQ Entertainment emailed her about coming to Korea and working on a few albums for their new boy group,” Chan said. 

“So she’s coming here?” Changbin asked, excitedly. Chan relished in knowing he had the ability to change Changbin’s mood with a single phrase. 

“She wants to but she isn’t sure if she can,” Chan says. Changbin’s happy mood changes into a dejected one. Jisung throws an arm around Changbin. 

“Here’s the other cradle robber,” Jisung teases, poking Changbin’s cheek. 

“I’m not a cradle robber,” Changbin exclaims, pushing Jisung off of him. 

“That’s something a cradle robber would say,” Minho whispers. 

“You guys are annoying, I’m going to go film,” Chan says, standing up from his chair. 

“Make sure your scene looks nice for Lav!” Minho yells. Chan ignores him. 

“Hey, Binnie, did your scene look good for Lav?” Woojin asks Changbin. 

“Chan’s right, you guys are annoying,” Changbin says as he walks away in the opposite direction as Chan. 

“I hope their rivalry doesn’t split us up,” Woojin says, crossing his arms as he looks between the two boys. 

“Me too,” Felix agrees. 

--

“Channie?” you say into your phone, your speech slurred from sleep. It was two in the morning after all.   

“Lav? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” Chan asked worried. 

“I’m gonna go to Korea,” you tell him, your pronunciation a bit off. 

“What?”

“I just had a dream that I went to Korea, and it was great and I feel like things would be just as great in Korea as they were in my dream. I’m gonna go to Korea.” you tell him. 

“What about your dad?” Chan asked you. You sighed. 

“I’ve gone four years without him. It’ll be tough, but I’ll be able to go four more years if I have you and the rest of the guys by my side.” you tell him. Chan smiled. 

“Why are you telling me this in Korean?” Chan laughed. 

“I wanted to see if I could speak Korean while half-awake and I feel like what I’m telling you is more meaningful when it’s said in Korean.” you slur. 

“Go to sleep, (Y/N). We can talk later.” he says. You hum in agreement. 

“Good night, Channie. I love you.” you tell him before hanging up. 

“Wait Lav-” the line beeped. 

“I love you too.” he whispered. 

“Cradle robber!” Jisung sang as he passed the doorway to Chan’s dorm room. 

“Shut up!” Chan yelled. 

--

Chan received a text from you on November 17, 2018, at 1 PM in Seoul, before a variety show appearance. 

1 new message from lav <3

lav <3: channie!!! look!!! it didn’t hurt that much!!

attached image

Chan clicked on the image and his eyes widened. You had gotten a small-ish tattoo of a stalk of lavender on your left forearm. 

chan: SDKLFSJLKFJ what did you do??????

lav <3: are you blind?? i got a birthday tattoo!!! i’ve been 18 years old since the 10th!!!

chan: (y/n) it looks really nice! it complements your skin tone!

lav <3: thanks!! it stings and i’ll have to put the tattoo solve on it for a while but it’s TOTALLY worth it. i’m getting another one next month!!

chan: where? 

lav <3: don’t worry about it, channie

chan: what do you mean???

lav <3: not like that!!! the odds of you being able to see it are VERY slim though

chan: ???? that doesn’t worry me any less but go ahead i suppose

--

author’s note: 

here’s something that describes the relationship between the reader and chan and a little bit between chan and changbin!! i have yet to start working on the third part of the actual fic BUT i’m going to start tomorrow. alright homies, its 10 pm and i have school tomorrow so i’m going to dip!! see you guys in the next one! 

ellie <3 

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