#i mean you gotta really love a person to sit through and enjoy them improvise singing on guitar lol

[linktube]

link zonked out of his mind all tired from the hospital being made to sit on a couch and listen to a 15 minute improvised song on guitar by rhett, all while giggling like a little boy

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

Chapter One. Welcome to Sweetland

the scene is set in 1956, a young man moved to Hollywood to follow his dreams of becoming an actor. But with little money and a struggle to keep his apartment, he is approached by a man who offers him a job at Sweetland

a/n: THE FIRST CHAPTER IS FINALLY HERE! this story is loosely based on the Netflix series ‘Hollywood’. just the general concept of it and ofc adding my own twist to it. I hope you enjoy this as much as I loved writing it! happy reading <3

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The familiar click of his boots onto the tiled shiny floor is what Harry looked forward to all the time.

He found motivation as he walked down the hall as he passed by locals pacing back and forth with their fingernails in their mouths or sitting on chairs against the wall as they nervously chatted with one another. Some of the girls glanced at him seductively as he walked, making his confidence shoot up a bit. Harry took each and every single one of them in; telling himself to not let their anxiousness get the better of him because he was better than them, he was more good looking than them, and he was a better actor than them. At least that’s what his self affirmations tell himself every morning.

The bright light shining from above him as he takes each step made him feel like a spotlight. He put on his best game face and walked confidently as he wore a white crisp button down shirt with a yellow polka vest, blue flared jeans, and red boots. It was his lucky outfit and one of his favorites. It was a stuffy outfit for the hot weather in Hollywood, but he needed to look dashing. Plus they were all a steal in the clearance section!

“Harry! Over here!” He saw Mikey waving over at him at the end of the hall. Harry waved back at him as he hurriedly walked towards him.

“Hey, Mikey. How is it in there?” He asked as they tried peeking into the room everyone has been waiting to have a chance to get into.

“Man, it’s crazy. Everyone in there is so intimidating!” Mikey shook his head as he looked up at Harry. He was a tad bit shorter than Harry, but he was humorous and the camera always loved a funny person.

Harry and Mikey met in front of the gates at Paramount Studios almost a year ago. They were both standing right next to each other amongst the hundreds of people waving their hands up in the air as they tried to get the attention of the casting directors. But in the midst of it all the chaos, Harry had accidentally elbowed Mikey’s head, which caused him to get infuriated and led them to a fight.

“Think you can go fucking around elbowing people, huh?” Failed punches were being thrown at one another as they tackled each other to the ground; a crowd had circled around him. Despite Mikey’s height, he was underestimated. He was feisty, tough and can pretty much handle anyone.

But that fight had been broken up by security, and somehow and some way, the casting directors found that entertaining and picked the both of them to be an extra. They were both ecstatic, not knowing a so-called fist fight would lead them to being an extra on set. Of course, it was hard to work with one another after the fight they had caused. But after throwing looks at one another, they figured it was best to get along and work together.

And they found out they had many things in common and respected each other’s dislikes. Since then, they’ve been by each other’s side.

“I’m sure you did great. Don’t sweat it,” Harry patted Mikey’s shoulder, reassuring him from his audition.

“Oh, oh! They’re coming! Get ready!”

Two older women walked out of the doors of the room that was frightening but exhilarating all at once. Everyone rushed to the entrance of the door, putting on their best smiles and mystery looks as the two women looked around to find their perfect face. Harry stood still, not putting on his best look as a way to tell them he was trying too hard.

“Alright, here’s how this is going to work,” one of the women screamed out to the eager crowd. She was tough as she wore an all black dress that stopped below her knees and 2 inch heels. Her expression was stern, giving everyone a hard look as they listened to her. “I’m going to choose two of you to walk inside with us and you will be given a chance to audition. We want to see the best actors and actresses to give us the performance of a lifetime.”

“Everyone ready?” The other woman in purple said and everyone nodded their heads. “Please get into two lines on both sides of the wall.” The crowd did so. Harry being the first one in the line since Mikey saved him a spot. Nervous was an understatement for Harry. He wanted to be chosen and this can finally be the start of the career he’s been dreaming of.

The two women glanced at everyone as they walked between the lines, looking at everyone’s smiles and anxious looks. Everyone’s heads turned as they walked passed by them, frowns present on their faces as they didn’t get chosen.

After a few minutes, Harry heard their heels clicking onto the floor as they were walking back. He turned his head and saw a girl walking behind them as she beamed in excitement. A small frown was placed on his face, feeling as his hopes have been crushed.

Suddenly, he felt their presence stop walking and stopped in front of him. His head immediately was brought back up to look at them, frown was replaced by a small smile.

“You’re good looking,” the lady in black said with no emotion. Her stare was intimidating, making Harry stutter.

“T-Thank you,” he cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he said again more clearly.

“Can you smile for me?” She asked. Harry gave her his best smile. The one that wasn’t too bright nor the one that wasn’t too small. But he gave his charming smile, making his dimples pop out. She looked at him for a few seconds as she stared into his eyes before she said, “Okay, come with me.” And she walked off into the room followed by the other director and the girl that they picked.

Harry couldn’t believe that they actually picked him. He turned towards Mikey and he was smiling so big, giving him a big thumbs up and a pat on his shoulder.

“Go get ‘em kid!” He lightly pushed him towards the door as Harry felt his feet were stuck to the ground from the shock.

Entering the room, he was met by the eyes of three other producers sitting at a long table. They had their coffees in front of them and a notepad with a pen, looking through a list of actors and actresses they’ve come across.

“Okay, just wait here as we prepare. Names?” the lady in purple positioned Harry and the other girl in the center of the room in front of the table of people that would dictate his future as she got their names before walking back to the table.

The room was freezing and Harry shook as he got shivers down his spine.

“Nervous?” The girl said next to him.

“Yeah, a bit. You?”

“Eh, I’m doing okay. Not my first audition,” she said in a bragging tone, and Harry just simply nodded. She was a small petite girl with long hair as she wore a pink pleated skirt with a pink striped top. Her hair was short as it curled up towards the end of it, giving her a more girly and preppy look. “I’m Brandy,” she introduced herself.

“Harry.” They softly and quickly shook hands.

“Say, Harry, how about we have a little fun after this audition?” Harry looked down at her and she gave him a brow raise with a teasing smirk.

“Uh-” Harry hesitated and luckily, they were interrupted.

“Okay, you two. Since we planned on not doing any scripts for this audition, you’re going to need to improvise. Show us your true and natural talent. I’ll set the scene: you two are at a party and are about to break up. Okay? Ready? Action!” One of the producers told them hurriedly, giving them no time to take it all in.

Harry and Brandy turned towards each other, and Harry’s face was immediately met with the palm of Brandy’s hand, giving him a hard and loud slap to his cheek. Harry’s head whipped to the side, covering the sting with his hand.

“What the fuck?” Harry asked in shock.

“How dare you break up with me! You don’t get to break up with me,” Brandy’s eyes were immediately filled with tears, and Harry wondered how she was so quick to make herself cry like that.

“I-I’m sorry. But it’s not my fault I caught you fucking some other guy!” Harry retorted back. Brandy’s tears had fallen onto her face, and Harry’s face remained annoyed.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. It didn’t mean anything. I promise I won’t do it again,” she grabbed his hands as she pleaded.

“No,” Harry started softly, feeling sympathy for his co-partner. “This has to end. It’s for the best-”

“CUT!” One of the men screamed out, interrupting their scene.

“Great, great job guys. That’s all we need. Brandy, come see us. Harry, you’re free to go.”

Brandy squealed beside him, walking towards the table to possibly talk about a contract and a part in a film while Harry slowly walked back to the entrance that was now his exit, feeling completely gutted. He thought he did fairly well; if they had given them more time, he would’ve been able to continue on and show them what they’re really missing. But that was their decision, and Harry had no choice but to try again the next time.

As he exited the room, he was immediately met by Mikey waiting for him with a big and hopeful smile.

“Well? Got that contract you wanted?” He asked.

Harry shook his head in defeat. “Gonna try again the next time. Didn’t fully get to show my talent y’know?” He said as the two friends walked towards the exit of the building. Mikey put his arm around Harry’s body, hand resting on top of his shoulder.

“There will be plenty of more auditions to come. Don’t worry,” Mikey reassured his friend as they walked out the door to be met with the bright shining light of the California sun.

“S’alright. Gotta keep goin’,” Harry said, convincing himself not to give up as he places a cigarette between his lips and lighting it up.

“That’s the spirit! But listen, I gotta get going. The family needs me, but I’ll see you at the next audition! Be there!” Mikey bid him goodbye as he was walking away from him. Harry waved at him, watching his friend walk home to his family.

And Harry needed a drink.

He found himself at a bar close to his apartment. It was midday so no one was really at the bar except about four other people, chatting and playing pool. He was drinking whiskey, downing glass after glass, needing something stronger than a beer as he had a tough and long day.

“Long day, kid?” A man with a full head of grey hair and grey mustache asked. He was very attractive for an old man. Looked very classy and proper, probably had a good job because he just looked fucking rich; while Harry is struggling to find a stable job to pay off his bills.

Harry scoffed, “You have no idea.” He called for the bartender, getting his attention. “Can I get another one of these please?” The bartender sighed, shaking to himself while getting Harry another drink; his fifth one in just 10 minutes. Once the bartender set his drink down, Harry simply picked it up and threw it down his throat as if it was mouthwash.

“What’s got you like this?” The man asked curiously. Harry turned towards him, giving him a look up and down. He’s usually very polite with meeting new people and is usually shy, but with the alcohol in his system on top of the horrible day he had, it was like he was a different person. He’s usually the soft and cuddly type when he’s buzzed or drunk, but again, he just had a bad day.

“Ya wanna know?” He didn’t wait for the man’s answer, but he nodded anyway. “Well, for starters, got a fuckin’ audition earlier because y’know, that’s what I do. I’m an actor. Anyways, I do the audition that they picked me out of, like, 50 people, and this girl who bragged about having plenty of auditions. And when we start, not even 5 minutes as we start actin’, they stop us! Thought they were lovin’ what we were doin’ that’s why they stopped us, but she told that Brandy girl to meet them after and dismissed me, like for fuck sakes!” Harry was seething as he was telling the story, and practically everyone was listening in since he was talking so loudly.

“Sorry about that, kid. But that’s what you do huh? You act?” The man asked, placing his cigar in his mouth.

“Yeah. Tryin’ to make a fuckin’ living and I’ve been struggling keeping my apartment,” he rolled his eyes, trying to remember the next due date was for his rent and electricity bill.

“It’s a tough world out there. But hey, what do you say you work for me?” The man offered and Harry’s brows furrowed.

“Don’t even know your name.”

“Well if you must know, like you didn’t just tell me your whole life story, I’m Daren,” he offered a hand to shake, and Harry takes it.

“Harry. So what exactly do you do?” Harry wondered.

“I work for a candy store,” he simply stated.

“A candy store…” Harry repeated and Daren nodded. “What the fuck am I gonna do at a candy store?”

“Simple. It’s like a self-serve candy store, but my workers serve them instead. Just grab a bag and they tell you what they want, and you get it. Simple as that,” he explained. “You’re an attractive man! Got the face and everything, and considering you’re tall, bet you’re packing down there too,” Daren said nonchalantly.

“Are you offering me a job or you’re gonna compliment my cock?” He wondered why the sudden mention of his cock came to play, but brushed it off. Harry hadn’t realized that he would be working at a candy store when he moved to Hollywood. He had big dreams, and he wanted to follow his dreams by getting as many auditions as he can and be in front of the camera, not work in candyland.

“Both. Just think about it. You’d be making a lot of money working there—hell of a lot more than minimum wage. And I’m talking about starting at $30 for an entire day. You can’t pass that deal up! And you just said it yourself that you can’t afford to keep your apartment. I mean, let’s face it. When are you going to get another audition? You’ve already gotten rejected from the one today!” Harry was breathing out of his nose, practically huffing at him as Daren mentioned the rejection. He knew that what Daren said was right, but Harry was hard headed and didn’t want to believe him.

“Sorry, mate,” he stood from his chair, grabbing his wallet from his back pocket as he set out a $10 bill on the counter. “Thank, but no thanks,” he told Daren, pride getting in the way.

“Well, my offer is still on the table. I’m located on Sunset, so you know where to find me once you get what I said through your ass,” he said louder than usual as Harry was walking away with no look back, exiting the bar and walking home.

When he reached the front of his door, he was met by paper taped to it that read ‘LATE RENT SECOND NOTICE’. Harry sighed, ripping the paper off the door before unlocking it and heading inside. He briskly threw the notice on the table and he sat down on his couch, rolling out his neck and closed his eyes for a moment. His shoulder and neck felt tight—his overall body felt tense, like he couldn’t relax for a tad bit.

He was stressed. The dream of becoming an actor was made when he was a teenager. From auditioning for one of his school plays in comprehensive school and getting the lead role, he felt the rush of being on stage when he was only sixteen. From then on, he wanted to take that dream to the next step, and he was talking about being on camera, on billboard, stepping on stage when he wins and collecting his Oscar. Harry reaches for big dreams, and he was determined to make his dreams come true.

In his state of pondering about lifelong dreams of making it in the industry, the electricity had gone out. It was like he was so in his head about becoming a famous actor that he felt like he was in the clouds and nothing was limiting him, but the harsh reality of his source of light going out had brought him back to the ground.

A groan from Harry’s mouth was heard between the walls of his tiny apartment, frustrated that he can’t seem to find money just to save him from getting evicted from his home. He took a deep breath as his body was stretched across the couch, hands on his face as he debated what to do.

He thought about getting more auditions, which he will eventually try for because again, that was his lifelong dream, but how many auditions did he have to do for anyone to see him other than a pretty face. Let’s face it, Harry knew he was attractive and having a nice face helped him get auditions, although he’s only had two in his lifetime. But he wanted to be seen more than that. He wanted to be seen for his talent, his ability to act, and being the person the camera loves.

Harry then thought about the offer Daren from the bar made him. It was quite random how someone badly wanted him to work for some candy shop when there are so many people who are looking for a side job. Of course he didn’t want to work there, but he did remember Daren saying that he was willing to pay a lot. But who in the world has that kind of money to pay $30 for working at a simple candy store?

Hell if Harry knew, but he knew that he needed to make some sacrifices.

You were sat in the beige booth across from your two friends, waiting on your food as Alice was reapplying her lip gloss and Frances was talking to you nonstop about a boy she had met from class.

It was your usual Friday afternoon as the three of you met up at Mel’s Drive In to have weekly breakfast for lunches. It was a ritual ever since you were in high school.

Having met them your freshman year of high school when you three were in the same dance class, you girls were inseparable. You’ve been through breakups, crushes, and gossip with them; and they were like your sisters. Sisters who talk about anything and everything with no limits or shame.

And now you three were dance teachers at the academy school you all danced at. It honestly worked very well; when a dancer hits eighteen, they graduate and that’s their farewell from growing up and continuously dancing at the studio. A year before you three graduated from college, your ballet instructor, Sally, had told you three that her and the rest of the staff always loved your techniques and stability. And you were all very excited for the journey.

“I swear to god, I was gonna jump him right then and there,” Frances said waving her hand as if she was fanning herself.

“Wait, he did what now?” Alice asked, pausing from putting on her lip gloss. She did it all the time, but you had no idea as to why she was doing that when you were about to eat. But Alice is Alice.

“If you can take one second not eating your lip gloss, then you would have heard me,” Frances turned to her right to face Alice, a frustrated look on her face. It was the same old annoyed look Frances gave Alice and to others, it looked like she was about to start a fight, but to the three of you, it was just pure bickering and humorously messing with each other.

“Anyways, tell us more,” you said, reaching over to Frances, and she excitedly turned back towards you, happy someone was paying attention.

“He just kept flirting with me! Kept saying I looked so pretty and said he wanted to take me out, which I think he’s gonna ask me out the next time I see him because he kept hinting at it, and I’m just so excited! Although I wasn’t sure if I wanted to date another dancer, let alone a coworker, but I don’t care anymore!” She squealed in excitement, and told her how happy you were for her.

“What about you?” Alice asked suddenly.

“What about me?” You asked back, leaning back on the leather cushion. Before Alice was about to answer, their food had arrived and was placed in front of you,

“Any guys or girls you’ve been into lately?” You thought about it, and shook your head truthfully as you dug into your pancakes. “C’mon! There isn’t anyone at all?” You shook your head again, taking a bite. “Not even that Tyler guy?” You rolled your eyes, waiting to swallow your bite before you answered.

“No, no, and no. I don’t know. It’s hard for me to get out there y’know?” You slightly frowned, realizing that you had been missing the affection and attention you wanted.

“Oh, whatever! You’re just saying because you’re too shy and proper to say that you haven’t been fucked in forever,” Frances said too loudly for your liking. You looked around your table to see if anyone had any lingering eyes on the three of you, but everyone seemed to be only paying attention to their business. “Face it, the last time you’ve been touched was Chris—and hell if he did the job.”

“And we know you can get out there. You’re pretty, smart, funny, and you’re a rich bitch! So many guys go after you in the passing!” Alice added.

“Yeah, only cause they want to get to my dad, remember?” You raised your eyebrows at them, and they went silent for a bit, remembering that ordeal.

“Well, those fuckers don’t know what they’re missing,” Frances said back.

“Since when have you used such language?” You faked a dramatic gasp, teasing her as she laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Please, ever since you told us about your kinkful night of sex that one time our freshman year of college, knew you weren’t an angel yourself,” Frances smirked, and a gasp was heard from Alice.

“Oh god, I remember that! It was with that junior Lance Mills! I want to hear that story over again. It was like listening to a sex film.” Alice put her hands under her chin as they both eagerly waited for you to tell the story again.

“Maybe next time. Y’know when we’re alone and I’m not about to devour this pancake,” you promised and they nodded excitedly.

The three of you ate your food as Johnny Cash was playing from the jukebox. You and Frances were minding your own businesses, thinking the subject prior was far gone and over with until Alice spoke up again.

“Y’know…I know something that’ll help you with the whole…” she started waving her hand around you like she was casting a spell, and you were utterly confused.

Your brows furrowed, “With what?”

“Your whole dry spell of not being able to get some,” her brows raised, and your mouth slightly opened.

“I am not on a dry spell!” You exclaimed, crossing your arms once you were finished with your pancakes, but felt satisfied, knowing Mel’s pancakes were the best you’ve ever had.

“Please. It’s been what? A year since you’ve had sex? Unacceptable.” You rolled your eyes at Frances’ statement. “You have everything you want except a good orgasm. Can you believe that?” She turned her head towards Alice in disbelief; the two of them shaking their heads.

“Ugh! I don’t need to have sex to complete my life! I am perfectly fine with pleasing myself and not having someone do it for me, and I am perfectly fine with not having sex… at the moment,” you added the last part in case the universe had some weird way of working, making your dry spell even longer. Frances and Alice laughed, knowing you all too well that you loved having sex and someone to hook up with.

It was like you were contradicting yourself in your head--thinking you were okay with yourself, but wanting someone else. But you honestly were fine with doing the job yourself--you didn’t mind that at the very least, but it is always nice to have someone to do it for you. What you were thinking was: yes, you could do it and reach an orgasm yourself, but you didn’t need someone to do it for you. If someone comes your way and helps you out, great. If someone doesn’t, also great, you’d do it yourself.

“Anyways, as I was saying,” Alice spoke up. “One of the girls was talking about some shop that always has hot guys working there and they’re always hiring hot guys.”

Frances turned her body towards her, “Ooh, tell me more.”

“You are about to get asked out by some other guy. Don’t be greedy, this is for her!” You chuckled at them as they fought like a married couple. “Well, she was saying how she met this one guy there and they fucked in her car! She would not stop talking about orgasm after orgasm! And she also said all the other workers there are hot too, so you can go down there and check it out for yourself,” Alice explained. “You can just do it once too--get all that stress out of your system.”

You thought about how long your dry spell has been going for. It hasn’t been too long that you were deprived from having good sex, and you would love to look at handsome men even if that means you wouldn’t get any since you were tired of looking at the boys in your class as you thought none of them were really all that attractive to you. So, you nodded in agreement and Alice perked up.

“Where is this shop at?” You asked curiously.

“It’s a candy shop on sunset. But you need a code to get in.”

You confusingly asked, “A code? Why would you need a code?”

“Don’t know. Probably for some identity reason. But they also serve celebrities as well, so that could possibly be a reason,” Alice said.

“Okay…What’s the code?” You asked slowly.

Frances squealed, “You’re really gonna do this?” You shrugged your shoulders but nodded your head.

“So, the code?” You asked Alice again to see her and Frances smirking at one another. Probably because you agreed to doing this and admitting that you wanted to get laid.

“Cloud nine.”

Harry found himself in front of ‘Sweetland’ at 12 in the afternoon on Sunday.

After much debate, he realized he really needed the money when he was in the midst of a shower and the water had turned off. Just as he got soap in his eyes, he figured he would put his pride aside and take up on Daren’s offer. Because what could be so bad working at a candy store? People have to start somewhere in their life in order to make it.

He had a night’s long of pondering, telling himself that an audition is not just going to pop up out of nowhere, but he couldn’t lose hope just yet. And besides, he probably wouldn’t even get paid that much if he wasn’t under a contract with a big agency. So the candy shop would have to do it for now.

Walking through the door, he was met with a few pairs of eyes from men who perked up thinking he was a customer, but quickly put their heads down.

“Ah, so I see you decided to work for me,” Daren said as he noticed Harry at the entrance of the shop, a smirk placed on his face.

“Yeah. Just really need the money,” Harry replied honestly.

“Well, welcome to your first day, boy! Here is your uniform, restrooms are over there,” Daren handed Harry clothes and slightly pushed towards the restroom to get changed.

Once he finished changing and got out of the restroom, he noticed he was matching with the other workers; wearing a blue sparkly blouse with a pussybow and white trousers. He had to admit that he loved the outfit, but wished everyone had different outfits so he could stand out.

“Everyone! This is Harry. He will be joining our team and will be along with this journey of ours.” He noticed Daren smirk as he introduced him to everyone with a hand on his shoulder. There were about five other guys working at the shop that day, and everyone waved, greeting him.

Everyone working were guys and Harry noticed how good looking everyone was, and there were no women working at all, which confused him at the very least.

“Alright, so your job is to basically serve customers. Easy as that. You’ll just grab a bag,” Daren does so as he speaks, “and whatever you want, just fill it up to however they desire. Simple.” Harry didn’t miss his sexual innuendo, even if it was innocent as candy, but he chuckled, amusing Daren. “Got it?”

“Yeah. Seems pretty easy-”

“That’s the spirit! But first, I’m going to need you to stock some of the candy containers in the back,” Daren grabbed a couple of empty jars that were out on display, and Harry nodded as he followed Daren to the back where all the candy was stocked in large containers. “These have the labels on them, so just fill them with the right ones.”

“Alright,” Harry responded, and Daren pats his back before walking towards the exit. “Hey, Daren.” He stopped him before he was able to walk out. He turned around and Harry gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks. Y’know, for the job. I really mean it.”

Daren smiled back, “Don’t thank me yet, kid.” And with that, he walked out as Harry filled the empty containers with more candy.

After 30 minutes of filling jars and sweeping the floor, Daren called him to the front of the store. It was more busy than usual but enough for all the workers to be occupied.

“Ready for your first customer?” Harry perked up, and nodded his head eagerly as he was finally going to help a customer out and serve them. “There she is. Remember to smile, and if they say cloud nine, do as they say.”

“Wait, what’s cloud-”

“Go get ‘em.” With a slight push, Harry was lurched forward, walking towards the woman waiting by the door.

“Hello, how can I help you?” Harry asked with a shy smile on his face.

“Just a bag of candy, please,” the lady said as she looked around the store.

“Sure thing,” Harry grabbed a candy bag and followed her around the store as he waited for her to tell her what kind of candy she wanted.

“Can you put these in there?” She said, pointing to the container of gumballs and Harry grabbed the metal spoon, filling it before dropping it in the bag. “That’s all I want,” she said, and Harry ties the bag up.

“Okay. Anything else?” He asked.

“Yeah. Cloud nine?” Harry was utterly confused when she said the phrase; he didn’t know what to do at this point because Daren didn’t take the time to explain it to him.

The woman slapped a few quarters onto the counter before grabbing the bag of gumballs from Harry’s hands and walking out of the store. He turned around and looked at Daren raising two thumbs up at him and Harry was quick to follow her out.

“I’m sorry. I’m not sure what you want me to do,” he said, still confused on what he was supposed to do. She stopped walking, stopping right in front of her white car, and turned around.

“I want you to fuck me,” she said straightforwardly, and Harry’s eyes widened. The woman was about in her forties with a diamond ring on her finger, flashing in his face from how bright the diamond is and how it clashes with the sun.

“P-Pardon?” He stuttered as his face turned red. The lady’s brows raised and Harry could tell that she was getting frustrated mentally and sexually.

“Isn’t that what you guys do? Fuck your customers when they want to?” She crossed her arms impatiently, and Harry’s mouth opened slightly but nothing came out from it, truly speechless at her words.

“I-I’m sorry…I don’t-”

“Ugh, never mind. Forget it,” the lady scoffed and walked to the driver side of her car and got in quickly before driving away, leaving Harry with an unsatisfied customer, a frustrated him, and possibly an angry boss.

With slow steps, Harry walked towards the entrance as he gave himself a 30 second pep talk before he had to go through the door, hoping he wouldn’t get fired on his first day.

He opened the door, the bell from above ringing from the movement of the door. The first thing that his eyes landed on was Daren’s confused face, and Harry frowned, nerves boiling through his veins.

“The fuck you still doing here?” Daren asked with his hands up. Harry scratched the back of his neck, feeling his blouse getting too tight for his own good.

“I, uh-”

“I sure hope to god you’re about to say you made her orgasm in two minutes. And you better not that you lasted two minutes,” his hands are now on his hips, waiting for his answer. “Well? Gonna give me a straight answer or are you gonna just stand there?” Harry’s brows furrowed in anger; from frustration and desperation of making money.

“You never told me what to fuckin’ do. Just expected me to hear a phrase and fuck someone? A little heads up would’ve been nice!” He snapped, his voice louder than he would like, but figured it’s necessary.

“Thought you already figured it out when I was talking about your cock back at the bar!” Daren retorted back, grabbing Harry’s arm and bringing him to the back, away from the other workers.

Harry yanked his arm back when they were both away from the rest, “The least you could’ve done was tell me straight up.”

“I didn’t think you’d care! You’re a good looking guy that probably wants to get laid. When was the last time you fucked someone anyways?” Harry looked at him and rolled his eyes, not answering his question. “I’m assuming it’s been a while…” he paused, eyes widened as if he made a realization. “Unless you’re a virgin because I’m not sure this is the right job for you—well, it might be depending how you look at it-”

“Yes, it’s been a while and no, I’m not a virgin. Not like there’s anything wrong with that,” Harry interrupted just to simply shut him up.

“Look kid, I’m sorry I wasn’t more clear on what this job offered, that was my fault,” Daren placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, how about the rest of the day, you just work with the candy. You don’t have to deal with customers today, and you can decide if you still want to work here. If you do, then you start tomorrow— actually start tomorrow this time. How does that sound?” Harry took a deep breath and nodded slowly, figuring he has about 3 hours to decide what he wants to do. “Great. There’s a few containers that need restocking and some unboxing in the back.”

Harry got to work immediately, but he took his time to make time somehow go by faster as he was surrounded by sour candies, chocolate, and bubblegum. And he was also thinking on how this whole thing will end up. It was only his first day so he wouldn’t get paid, but if Daren was true to his word when he said he would start out at $40, he may as well end up staying here. Because where else is he going to get that type of money in one day? No where. He’d have to work at least two weeks to get a whole $30 when he can make so much more if he were to stay at Sweetland.

Time did go by faster as his brain was scrambled with thought and his mouth felt like he’s eaten every piece of candy. He threw out all the boxes and stored the candy in its right container before washing his hands to see the rest of the workers cleaning up. He wanted to help out, even though he’s done enough, and grabbed a rag before wiping down the counter and the spaces between the candy containers.

“Hey,” Harry said to the guy, whose name tag read Pete, as he was sweeping the floor of sugar and dropped candy.

Pete looked up and smiled, “How did you like your first day?”

“It was unexpected.” Harry chuckled.

“It is, isn’t it?” Pete smiled, and Harry nodded.

“That’s how he dropped the bomb on all of us. Didn’t say much of what we do besides what we do with the actual candy, but just threw us into the pack of wolves and fed us alive.”

“That’s…descriptive.” Pete laughed. “I mean, is it worth it?”

“If you’re desperate for money, then yeah. The reason why we all stayed was mainly because of that, but we’ve grown to like it a lot, and that’s not because we get to have sex everyday. But because Daren is actually really fun and cool, and we’ve all made friends with each other. It’s an experience, for sure.” Harry nodded, taking everything in. He knew his answer before talking to Pete, but he just needed some reassurance, guidance.

Daren came to view when Harry looked up, walking towards him, obviously for one reason. “So, boy, what do you say?”

Harry thought for the last time. Quickly going over his decisions, and having a full on debate in his head as he imagined pros and cons lists. The pros out weighted the cons, and there was really no question about it. The pros were: lots of money, sex, nice coworkers, and good candy. The cons list was: nothing.

He didn’t think he’d end up like this. Working for a fake candy store, but in the sense it’s not fake because it sells real candy, and getting sex this way.

But again, he needed to make sacrifices in order to keep his place and practically live.

“I’ll stay.”

Your muscles were strained from the amount of hours you were on your feet--more like years since you’ve been dancing ever since you were little. From teaching your students a plie to releve to saute; always making sure yours and their toes are always pointed. Your muscles were aching and you were tired, physically and mentally.

It wasn’t like you didn’t love to dance--you’ve been doing it for years, hell, you were teaching it. But it was the long hours during the day where some days, you had to teach and rehearse for at least 12 hours a day. So, needless to say, you were exhausted.

But that wasn’t even the worst of them all. At the end of the day, you had to go home and deal with your family. They were supportive, but not in the sense where you want them to be. They were supportive in what they want for you, not what you want for yourself. It was something you had to live with--you don’t remember a time you got what you wanted, except when you suggested you wanted to do dance when you were younger.

It didn’t take long for them to agree for them to sign you up for dance classes, but only signing you up for classical ballet.

“Sweetheart, it’s just more elegant. You’ll learn how to be more flexible and fix that god awful posture of yours,” your mother had said when you suggested you wanted to do something like tap dance. You had nodded your seven-year-old head as you sulked back to your room, figuring ballet was better than nothing when you asked to take some dance classes.

Your mother, Jane, wasn’t always so harsh with you. In fact, her attitude towards you had gotten better as you got older, but that was probably because she found your dad, Richard, cheating on her with another woman. And she thought you didn’t know a thing, hence why her attitude changed towards you, but you knew everything.

But you were all Jane had, and it was when you were sixteen, she suggested a girls day with you; talking to you with a soft tone and not making any remarks towards how you look. But you were happy for the change; it bettered and strengthened your relationship with your mother and she sides with you with almost everything once your father comes at you for something so little.

Walking through the large doors of your home, you threw your bags on the floor, the heaviness was making your back and shoulders hurt even more, immediately walking towards the kitchen as you stretched out your limbs and joints.

It was almost 10 p.m and you realized you had so many things to do still. Between coming up with a routine and some new ways to warm up, you were filled with overwhelmingness, and you just wanted to have a decent meal in silence.

But sadly, you didn’t get that--either of that. Instead of silence, laughs were heard from the dining room, and once you walked into the room to see what all the noise was about, the thought of a decent meal was lost from your appetite at the sight in front of you.

It was your father laughing with your ex boyfriend, Chris. The sight was unbearable and you wanted to run out of the room, but first, you wanted to know what the actual fuck is Chris doing here.

“Ah, darling, so glad you could join us. Was just having a laugh here with your dear boyfriend, Chris,” Richard had said once he saw you, calming down from his laughter. Chris was looking at you with a smile, and you never wanted to slap a smile off someone’s face before him.

“Ex boyfriend,” you said clearly, making sure they both heard you right.

“Oh, tomato, tomahto. Same shit. Won’t be long until you get back together with him,” Richard chuckled, thinking he was right. But he was far from right; you have no plans whatsoever getting back together with him nor do you have plans ever associating yourself with him, so the fact that he’s in your house right now is just boiling your blood.

“Father, Chris and I are never getting back together. I mean it,” you tell your father, but looking at Chris as you say so, hoping to get your words engrained to his skull. But all Chris did was smirk at like you were wrong, but you rolled your eyes, not amusing him.

“Sure, whatever you say. How about you sit and join us.” Richard points his hands towards the empty chair next to Chris.

“I’d rather not,” you sighed.

“Not asking you, darling,” Richard gives you a disapproving look as if he’s trying not to lash out in front of his ‘perfect’ guest like he’s a ‘perfect’ host.

“Well, I’m telling you I don’t want to. Besides, I have schoolwork to do.” You told him sternly, completely over this conversation. As you were about to walk away, his voice raised slightly.

“Darling. Sit. Now,” he demanded. He was angry, that’s for sure, and the vein on his forehead looked like it was about to pop from you not cooperating.

Giving him the point, you sighed as you took a seat next to Chris, but left a chair between you two, not wanting to be anywhere close to him. You wouldn’t be in this position if you hadn’t walked in on your father and Chris being buddies, and you wished that you had just ignored the laughter because your night would’ve been much nicer than sitting at a table with the two of them together.

But you were rather proud of yourself for sticking up for yourself. Some parents may call it talking back, but that was nowhere near talking back. You grew a thick skin around him throughout the years. From the countless times of crying in your bedroom because Richard would call you names or tell you that you weren’t good enough, you had to grow that kind of toughness around him. Sometimes you had to fight back for yourself; you weren’t going to let him or anyone walk all over you. Seeing your father do that to your mother just broke your heart, but you told yourself that no one will ever treat you like that.

“So, Chris and I were talking about your futures together-”

You raised a hand up only for it to be smacked onto the table causing the table to make a loud sound. “What did I just say? I am never going to have a future with him.”

“Not after what he planned for us,” Chris pitched in.

“Well, you can shove that plan up your ass if you think I’m gonna let you plan my future!” You said, turning towards your father. You were on the edge of your seat, close to getting up and raising your voice even louder or completely walking out of the room as anger flushed through you.

“Do not speak to me that way! Who gave you the right to even use those words?” Richard’s eyes furrowed as he pointed a finger at you, obviously angry, and not giving a fuck if he had a guest hear his anger.

“Gave me the right? You did when you decided to be an absolute dick to mom and I!” You were fully standing up, hands planted on the table.

“Language! You don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“But I do, don’t I? Right, father? I know everything,” you gave him a challenging look, which he was not amused with.

“I’m gonna give you five seconds-”

“Don’t bother,” you scooted your chair back, and walked out of the dining room and up the stairs. You just wanted a peaceful and relaxing night, but you got the exact opposite.

You were headed up the stairs, quickly, furious and frustrated at your father. Stomps on the hard floor were heard that you didn’t even hear the footsteps following behind you.

“Hey,” the voice you recognized was Chris’, and you felt your arm slightly being yanked by him, causing you to stop walking. You turned around, immediately taking your arm out of his hold.

“Don’t touch me or ever grab me like that,” you said, and he thinks it’s the most serious tone he’s ever heard out of you.

“Chill, I was gonna see if you were okay after that-”

“Well, don’t! I never asked for you to check up on me, and stop grabbing me like that--I’ve told you a million times. It’s annoying, not cute,” you rolled your eyes. You were right in front of your bedroom door and you just wanted to go inside and be over with the day, but of course, Chris keeps talking.

“Would you stop being a bitch for once? I don’t understand why we can’t be civil with each other, I’m working with your father,” he said, voice slightly raised, but you don’t let it get to you.

“The only reason why I can’t be civil with you is because I can’t stand being around you. And guess who messed that up? You did,” you pointed at him. “You’re just like him. Can’t have one person satisfy you. Always wanna sleep around and think you’re forgiven,” you shook your head in disbelief, trying not to let the tears cloud your eyes.

It wasn’t like you were still hung up on the situation, but the thought of being that heartbroken again did not make you feel the best. The feeling of your heart sinking into your stomach was something you did not want to feel again. And you didn’t think you were wrong for wanting to protect your fragile heart. You were strong on the outside; not taking shit from anyone, and you think that’s a strong quality to have. But deep down, you still had your guard up. Physically, you were fine connecting with people, but emotionally, it was necessary to protect yourself.

“C’mon, baby, it was one time,” you cringed at the name.

“First, don’t call me baby. I mean it. Second, one time was enough. I’ve witnessed it--still witnessing it with my mother staying with my father when he cheats time and time again. That ‘one time’ shouldn’t have even happened. Now, leave me alone and get out of my house.” You walked into your room, but before you were about to shut the door, he placed a hand on it, stopping you from closing it.

“Y’know, maybe we can just have a little fun. Hate fuck all the anger out of each other. Maybe it’ll help get that stick out of your ass,” he smirked and you rolled your eyes in disgust and annoyance.

“Don’t worry, I have better places to go other than you.”

With that you slammed the door in his face, knowing exactly where you could go to destress.

just a glimpse of what their lives look like! CHAPTER TWO IS COMING ON AUGUST 21!

taglist babies: @froggystyles @outofsstyles @whoschantel @4592222 @groovybaybee @bfharry @wellbafineline @tfonty @bfilipa52 @afire-hes @thorsangel @brrilliant-harry @apples2019

[ourimpavidheroine]

I’ve gotta say, I’m really enjoying these stories. Also, your late father sounds like an amazing man. I can really see the inspiration for LoLo come out in your mentions of him.

When my mother got pregnant with me - a planned pregnancy, they were young when they married but I was born 16 months later - my father knew from the get-go that he wanted a girl.

This was (and, I am sad to say, still is) an unusual thing for a father to wish for. Most fathers wish for a son. My Dad, however, was raised by a drunken, abusive, narcissistic man and he was afraid that if he had a son he’d just turn into his father. He thought a daughter would help him break that cycle of abuse. 

When I was born he told the nurse who brought me out to him in the waiting room that I was an angel, and Angel was the nickname that he alone called me.

He and I were very, very close, something that made my mother and younger brother jealous. (I didn’t really see or understand that until after he died when I was 26.)  There was nothing whatsoever or remotely sexual about it, which is what people usually assume when a father and daughter are very close. As my girlhood best friend said to me a few months ago, my father thought the sun rose and set on me, thought that I was his fairy princess. All of my odd, Autistic/ADHD weirdness was something he loved. I always knew he loved me not just despite my weirdness but because of it. (Something that my late wife did as well.)

My father was a brilliant man. He graduated high school at 15 and went into university to study architecture. Academically he handled it, but he was way too young to handle the social aspects as well as the responsibility of it and so he dropped out a year later. Things were apparently hellish with my grandfather and my Dad enlisted in the Army on his 18th birthday. This was 1965 and the US started sending soldiers to Vietnam. Not my Dad, though. He took some tests the military gave him and after boot camp spent his entire three years on a Nike missle base in the middle of Milwaukee, working on one of those huge old mainframe computers (you know, the kind with punch cards). I’m guessing they didn’t send the really smart ones off to be killed.

He taught himself how to be an architect through reading books at the library, including textbooks that he would sit and read at UC Berkeley’s library, even though he wasn’t a student there any longer. Then, after he had learned that, he read through engineering and physics textbooks. Then he read through every single book he could find that taught him how to actually build the structures he had learned to draw. He was completely self-taught, and the man not only designed and built complicated, Broadway-worthy theater sets he also designed and built houses from the ground up. He wanted to build a rock retaining wall at our house (which was located at the base of a hill and was on an incline) and so he went to the library and got a book about how Romans built walls and spent three years going to the local river to source variously-sized river rocks to build that retaining wall, which he did completely without any kind of mortar, just balancing the rocks perfectly. It’s still standing, 40 years later.

He always worked at very menial jobs - he was a line cook, a stocker in a supermarket produce department, an RV park manager, etc. He was terrible with money, didn’t understand it at all. We lived right on top of the poverty line. He had zero executive functioning and that caused a lot of problems for all of us and meant a lot of broken promises, too.

I am completely sure that like me, like both of his grandchildren, he had Autism and ADHD. Not diagnosed of course, they weren’t in those days, But he had them nevertheless.

He was a voracious reader and introduced me to sci fi and fantasy. On my eighth birthday he gave me his copies of The Lord of the Rings and had me read them. (This was 1977, trust me when I tell you those books were not a household name at that point.)  He’d wake me up at 3:30 am and we’d go fishing together, him with a thermos of black coffee, me with a bottle of orange juice and a box of Entenmann’s mixed donuts and we’d sit there in happy silence together, fishing and enjoying each other’s company. He was a wonderful storyteller and only once did he get angry with me. He never laid a hand on me or my brother but the one time he got angry with me he slapped me across the face and then the both of us cried.

He taught me many useful skills, like how to jimmy locks and how to walk through people unseen and how to learn on my own how to do things and how to make the world’s best pie. He always told me that I could absolutely anything I put my mind to. When I asked him once if that meant I could be a father - I was joking - he looked me straight in the eye and asked me if I actually wanted to be a father. When I told him no he responded that he had said if I had put my mind to it, and he wasn’t vouching for anything I pulled when I didn’t care.

He also told me that I was the strongest person he’d ever met and when I scoffed at that he shook his head and said, “Angel, most people see you and they have no idea at all what’s inside of you and what you are capable of. There is nothing in this life you won’t overcome. Someday, when we’re both dead, you come find me and tell me I’m wrong.” (So far, he has not been wrong.)

He was a functioning drunk; he only drank after 8 at night, however. Just enough to make sure he’d not be hungover in the morning. He was a night person and all his life only needed about 4 hours of sleep to be completely rested.

He loved movies but he hated to go alone and usually took me. Not all of these movies were appropriate for kids my age but there it was. When I was eleven he took me with him to see The Elephant Man and I broke down completely, devastated and sobbing, horrified at how cruel people were to the lead character, just because he was different. After the movie we sat in the car and he held me until I was done crying and when I was all done he told me to never forget how the movie had made me feel and to remember that no matter how different people were from me they were all human and deserved kindness, compassion and understanding. This was a lesson I have tried very hard to live throughout my life. He took people at face value, and that included everyone. I don’t think he was particularly woke based on 2021 sentiments but he tried very hard to treat people equally and that included queer people during the AIDS crisis, too.

He was a feminist and believed women should be equal to men. He walked the walk, too: he cooked, he cleaned, he changed diapers, etc. And by that I mean he did them as par for the course, as part of his daily life. He did not rely on my mother’s emotional labor to remind him to do shit. He just did it because things needed doing and he was a grownass man, not a man-child. He did not consider caring for his children as babysitting, either.

He liked to sing. My mother and brother have opera-quality singing voices - for real, both of them are quite gifted - but his wasn’t like that, it was just a perfectly ordinary, passable baritone, just like mine is a perfectly ordinary, passable alto. He sang and he whistled when he was happy and I do the same. He used to make up funny little songs and rhymes on the spot, he had a gift for improvisation that way. I wish I had inherited that but alas! No.

Even when he was a boy all of the neighborhood kids would come to him with broken toys to be fixed. He quite genuinely liked kids and even teenagers and spent a lot of time working with the local high school drama department, building the sets, working as the stage manager and setting up and working the lights and soundboard (he taught himself to do that as well) and even directing some of the plays when the drama teacher was out on maternity leave. To this day I still get contacted by people who were in school with me or my brother who tell me what an influence my father was on them, the special things he did for them to make sure they knew he was paying attention and cared. One guy a couple of years ago contacted me on Facebook and told me that he got into some trouble after high school, even got imprisoned for a few months. My father visited him in prison and afterwards took him to AA with him, became his sponsor, helped keep on the straight and narrow. He named his oldest son after my father, in fact. I hear a lot of those stories.

He loved books and he loved music and he taught me to love those things as well. He fell in love with my mother when he was seventeen and married her five years later and came to regret it - like his father, his wife was an abusive, narcissistic person. He stayed with her, though, until my second year of university, when he abruptly walked out on her, went to AA and quit drinking. I asked him about it later; he told me that he had wanted to leave her for years but knew that if he did he’d never see me or my younger brother again. The courts in those days automatically gave kids to the mother and my mother was an accomplished liar and would have told the courts anything and they would have believed her. Once I was out of the house and secure, then he was done. (The fact that my brother was only fifteen and left to fend for himself with my mother was...not good. Not good at all. My father was not perfect and he was not a saint and that was a mistake that still has repercussions today.) He did not do enough to protect me from my mother while I was growing up, however. He regretted it, he told me later. I understand now that he was constantly walking a knife’s edge, trying to keep her satisfied enough so she wouldn’t try to take me away from him, but it took therapy long after he died for me to really understand that.

His special interest was model railroading and he built these amazing, intricate landscapes, all by hand and by scratch. The man took latex molds off the sides of rocks to build mountains with and built buildings out of tiny pieces of wood and such. I spent many hours with him as he built, listening to music and reading or just laying there, thinking my thinks, or sometimes chattering nonstop to him.

He called me, every single Friday night, right after the X-Files ended, right after the child’s voice said “I made this.” My phone would ring and we’d chat for hours, talking about the show (we both loved it) and whatever else. He lived about 5 hours away from me at the time and we did talk at other times during the week but that was our standard date. He died in the middle of Season 2 and to this very goddamn fucking day whenever I hear that “I made this” I wait for my phone to ring. And I cry every single time because he will never call me again.

I absolutely think that meeting my late wife via the X-Files was my father, watching out for me. When my twins were newborn and pretty much all I did 24x7 was breastfeed them I re-watched the entirety of X-Files on the DVDs I had and I’d talk to my father in my head, telling him about his grandchildren.

He’d always buy the new Stephen King books in hardcover and read them and then give them to me to keep. He especially loved the Dark Tower series but I haven’t finished the ones that were published after he died. I bought them myself but they are still sitting on my bookshelf, unread. I just can’t.

He died in the hospital after being in a coma for a week. The ICU nurses were very kind and showed me how I could turn off the life support machine if I wanted to and told me that I could be in there with him as long as I needed. They very considerately closed all of the curtains and closed the door to the room. I was alone with him in there and I turned off the machine and I held his hand and I sang to him as he died. I didn’t want him to be alone. 

He was right. I was strong enough to do that. It hurt, though. It still hurts.

He’s buried in California with a free military headstone because my comfortably upper middle class grandfather refused to shell out for a headstone and I was flat broke. Many years later I had a regular stone engraved with the words, “Go then, there are other worlds than these” and I placed it at our summer cottage here in Finland for him. I like to think that he and my late wife are keeping company. They never met here, but they would have liked each other very much, that I do know.

[theficplug]

Girls Trip {Erik fic}

Warnings: 18+, smut.

{reader goes on a cruise with her girls during winter break post-breakup & meets Erik when she needs him most. The intro to a series. I hope that y'all enjoy this long ass intro x}

“Told you you'd like it! We know what you need.” your friend Lynelle says as you and your other 2 best friends step into the lobby of the ship.

Your original plan was to stay home and catch up on much needed sleep and netflix binge watching during Winter Break but Khadijah, Tasha , and Lynelle (Lennie)  had other plans.

They could never get on the same page to go on a proper vacation but the one time you wanted to be left alone they've decided to get it together. 

2 plane rides and now you're here on a cruise on the way to 'paradise'.

The last few weeks went by in a blur while you were buying bikinis, trying to contain your emotions, and leaving behind your frozen over city for Bali.

You'd be lying if you said that you weren't a little excited to be leaving behind a terrible end to a 4 year relationship.

“Girl I just paid 12 dollars for Netflix this month. I planned on staying home and re-watching The Get Down. I need to at them and ask them when they're gonna add Crooklyn." You say as your phone begins to go off. 

"Uh-uh, just cause your man had community dick don't mean you gotta feel like you did something wrong. You are the sweetest and most caring person I know and gave everything you had for that man. You are a strong beautiful talented black woman. You run your own business and don't need his ass for nothing. And if I were into girls I would've been shot my shot back in the 7th grade. Now, we gon' get tipsy, dance the night away in 23$ dollar heels, and find a fine ass beard to rid-"

You quickly cut off your best friend by answering your mother's call. You held onto Khadi's hand to let her know that her support means everything to you.

"Hey Mama. Yes I made it safe and sound." You say into the phone as you shake your head and laugh at your girls. 

"HEY MA " Khadi says waving as she smiles at the woman on the other side of the phone she's known for over half her life. 

"Hello Khadijah, are you behaving yourself ?" She asks as Khadi shakes her head with her tongue sticking out.

"MY GIRL." Your mother says as they both laugh and point at each other through the screen. 

"I'll talk to you later, enjoy yourself baby. Sometimes a little fun and laughter is the cure for heartache. Love you, be safe." She says before ending the video call.

"Alright , we all meeting up for the foam pool party after the tour right? Cause I need to shower and stuff first." You say as everybody agrees

An hour or two later you were standing in front of the hotel mirror giving yourself a pep talk in your new bikini. You eyed your reflection as you tell yourself that somebody son is gonna love on your fupa, and the 3 years wasted with Derrick isn't going to matter anymore. 

"Knees. Knees. Come on knees." Khadijah yells as Lennie and Tasha  drop it low and make it clap as a chorus of 'ayyeeee' erupts in the elevator. 

You make your way down to the lobby with the girls after throwing back a few shots in Lennie's room. You past by a group of other girls in the elevator and they were blasting Cash Shit from their phone. 

"Link up with us later." Paris says from the other group before moving over to the party already happening. 

The drinks are flowing through your system and Tasha is filming you for the gram as you sing along to the music. You accidentally trip backwards onto a man behind you before immediately apologizing and giggling.

"You good mama." He says as he catches you with one hand and the other still holding his drink. Without missing a beat he twirls you to the beat so that you can play it off. 

"What's the nigga name?" He asks as he takes another sip of his drink and tries to act like he ain't see you watching the suds slide down his scarred and chiseled chest to his happy trail.  

"Excuse me?" You ask confused as he flashes his gold fanged grill and cock his head towards the phone in Tasha's hand as she gives you a quiet  'oooh shit okay'. 

"The one you tryna prove a point to. Only name that matters now though is Erik." He says as he grinds against you and move your braids to your other shoulder. 

"Alright Erik, lemme see if you can keep up then." You tease him as you begin to whine on him and ride the beat as he keeps up behind you. You realize you have an audience now with his boys glancing over at you and your girls watching him. 

His hand holds you in place before he asks if it's alright if he kissed you. You nod before you know it his soft ass lips are on yours. He pulls at your bottom lip slightly while you continue to whine on him. 

"Thank you for the dance." You say before you place one final kiss to his lips as the song ends.

You walk over to Tasha before grabbing her hand and leaving to find Lennie and Khadijah 

You knew he was still standing there watching you walk away you turned to give him a look over your shoulder with a raised brow.

"Stop watching my booty" you mouth at him jokingly 

"YOU CAN'T EVEN BLAME ME. ITS FAT AS FUCK." He yells back to you over the music.

After an hour of dancing and having a good time with friends you only checked your phone once to find 3 messages from Derrick begging you to call him then two talking about how disappointed he was with you.

You stepped out onto the upper deck to tell him to stop calling you and ruining your good time. 

"I can do what I want. I'm fucking grown. All you ever did was sit at home on your ass and criticize me for every damn thing I did. I made sure you were happy when I wasn't even okay… And fucking my cousin was your way of showing me you loved me huh? Don't call me no more and stop calling my mama asking her about me too. " You yell into the phone before hanging up.

You stand there staring out at the ocean for a moment. Trying to breathe deeply and ground yourself so that you don't cry.

"You good?" You hear a voice call from behind you.

"What, you following me now?" You ask Erik as he pulls up one of the lounge chairs to sit next to you and light his blunt. 

"Nah, not at all. I came out here to smoke and chill. All that going on in there really ain't my scene. My boys got me to come here. They got white boys in there doing backflips off the balcony and shit. I probably would've still been at work right now." He say as he exhales and leans back against the lounge chair. 

You laugh softly before shaking your head. 

"That's how I ended up here. I was planning on spending Christmas and The New Year at home with my family. But my friends had this surprise for me to ring in the new year in Bali. And now here I am. I'd still rather be watching Godfather of Harlem. I gotta catch up." You say sitting next to him in the lounge chair. He instinctively wraps his arm around you letting you lay your head on his shoulder.

Granted, it probably seemed weird as hell to be cuddling with somebody you just met and barely knew but to both of you it just felt right in the moment.

"Godfather of Harlem ? That show is my shit. It's slept on forreal… If you ever in Oakland you should stop by sometime. I run a museum based on preserving black art and culture." He scrolls on his phone until he finds some of the pieces and shows it to you. But the main thing that stood out was Stevens Black Art & History: for the culture. 

"Erik Stevens?" You gasp and sit up to get a good look at him

"Yeah , why you looking like that? What's up?" He questions

"Oh my fucking God. We was best friends back in the day. It's me, look, minus the bifocals, braces, and that James Brown bob my mama gave me damn near every day." You say and he stares at you in awe for a second. 

"Damn it's really you." You says quietly as he runs his thumb over your cheek imagining you the way you looked in 5th grade.

You loved Erik growing up and spent almost all of your time together but after his father died you didn't get to say goodbye. He was taken into the system and after that you heard that he was in the military doing who knows what. You tried to find him but after a while it was no use. You couldn't believe how different he looked now. He looked tired down by the woes of life but still as beautiful as the day you met him.

" 'Member this?" You ask as you fish your out of the pocket of your cover-up and start playing Best Friend by 50 Cent. 

You watched as he looked up at you standing up to dance. You pull him up too as he puts out the blunt while laughing and stepping with you. 

"If I was your best friend, I want you 'round all the time. Can I be your best friend, if you promise you'll be mine?" You sing to him as he twirls you around 

"First we get the talkin, then we get the touchin. If we get pass the phone games we'll be fuckin. I kiss like the french therefore my tongue in your ear. Do it like the dogs do it girl and pull on your hair. For me a different scenery just mean a different position. In the tub or on the sink I improvise now listen. In the chopper or on the jet join the mile high club. I'm no fool I know money can't buy me love. But I'm a different type of nigga that make sure that you know. Instead of a rose, there's a hundred dozen of those. See I see somethin special when I look in your eyes. With your legs way back I see this pussy is mine. If you ain't sure when I'm talkin I don't tell you no lies. But there's things that you say that have me wonderin why. When I don't say what I'm thinkin it don't mean that I'm shy. Got on that shit you picked out for me that's why I'm so fly." He raps effortlessly while kissing softly on your neck and all those memories start flashing back to you as you sway with him.

"Damn you still remember all the lyrics to our song." You say to him as you look over to see your girls and some of his friends.

"You out here ?  Bitch! I thought I was gonna have to do an interview on First 48 for yo ass. I was gon' drop a raft over to come find you. You know I can't swim and I don't got my floaties with me." Khadi says as she walks in with Tasha and Lennie . 

"I'm sorry I came out here for fresh air and then ended up literally finding my fuckin childhood best friend. Before the baddest bitches on the planet came to be. There was THEE duo. Everybody meet Erik."

After everyone got to know each other. Y'all brought the party to the secluded little upper deck with the perfect view of the ocean. You had drinks , music, and good company almost enough to forget about the whole situation back home. 

"Girl you know I love you but my feet hurt and Sebastian said he gon' rub em" referring to the man she currently had her arms around. 

"Alright , we'll meet up in the morning for breakfast" you tell them before giving them kisses goodbye and heading out with everybody. 

Tasha and Lynelle were currently singing to each other and sharing cute kisses off to the side. You couldn't help but to smile and think of how true love must feel. To love and be fully loved back like that.

You were standing in front of your opened room door when you realized that his room is across from yours but he had no plans of sleeping in it.

"Uh-uh. Who said you were invited in?" You ask Erik with your index finger on his chest. 

"I thought you said you wanted to watch Netflix? We can order room service and everything. Whatever you want" he says to you licking his lips and closing the gap between the two of you. 

"I want to forget. I want to have fun. I want to feel loved and appreciated for once. That would be nice." You say quietly as he takes his hand in yours. Pressing small kisses to each of your knuckles.

He hesitates for a moment before leaning in to kiss you slowly. He held your face in his hands as he continued to back you into the room kicking it closed with his foot. 

 "I'm glad that we found each other. After all of this time. " You say to him in between kisses

"Believe it or not I kept that picture of us. The one your mama took of us at the zoo next to the monkeys. I took it with me on tour everywhere. Right next to my mama's picture in my wallet. I never lost a battle. I made it home in one piece. Shits wild." He said zoning out for a moment like he was going somewhere else. 

"Heyyy." You call softly. You move his hands from your waist 

" I've got you." You whisper to him before leading him to your bed and laying him back. 

You wrap your arms around him almost cuddling him as you lay your head on his chest while listening to his heartbeat and sitting on his lap. 

You place a soft kiss to his lips before moving away from the bed to change, settling on a large shirt and nothing else. 

Erik followed suit and just stripped to his boxer briefs before you come back to the bed carrying soda , your laptop, and snacks. 

"And before you ask. Yes, I packed my laptop because work never stops, and yes I packed snacks because I can't find Takis out here." You say chuckling softly while he shakes his head laughing softly. 

You both settle into a comfortable position before loading up the movie. You settled on Nappily Ever After but it wasn't long before he was softly kissing on your neck with his hand under your shirt.

"Gonna eat it from the back. That's cool with you" he mumble into your ear.

If that's cool with me? BIH, I'm trying to let you give me twins. Triplets even. Play it cool. Play it cool . You thought to yourself before saying a silent apology to your girl Sanaa Lathan as you quickly moved the laptop to the bedside table.

"Damn she pretty." He says before kissing each cheek and gripping the back of your thighs. You knew what was coming next as your hands found the headboard and arched your back.

You can feel his tongue begin to explore the back of your thighs to your folds as he bends you forward. 

You hiss softly as his hand began to roam. You looked back at him as his fingers enter you. He begins to slowly and deeply work you open for him. You knew that you were dripping at this point and couldn't contain how loud you're being.

You can hear him let out a groan as he gets his first taste. Before you know it he's devouring you like you're his favourite meal and is completely in his element. His hands are massaging over your cheeks while he suckles your clit and then slides his tongue in. You begin to work your hips down onto it as he's on his knees behind you. His fingers massaging skillfully over your clit. 

"That's how you want it? It's all for you." You egg him on shakily as you reach back to grab at his dreads knowing that you're nearing your orgasm. You thought you were seeing stars but the audacity of this man bringing his hand down hard across your left then right cheek and then the pom-pom itself, did it.

Your toes curled and your head was tilted back as you continued to ride his face and the orgasmic wave crashed over you so hard it took your breath with it. 

You called out his name speaking in all types of broken Xhosa as he begin to lap you up and savour your taste. 

When you stopped shaking he sat back on the bed, proud of himself as he licked his lips. 

You turned to face him and he wasted no time continuing to massage you.

But what you hadn't realized during changing you accidentally dialed Derrick. Who's now on the other end, yelling into the phone 

{to be continued! I hope that it was alright!}

[the-gay-prometheus]

🍄🍂🌻🌿 for the main three of your AU + Ernest

What are your OCs favourite snacks? Their favourite comfort food which always cheers them up when they’re down? Favourite meal to make? Do they enjoy baking and cooking and are they any good in the kitchen?

>Victor: Oat cakes? Oat cakes. ...Oat cakes. Yes I am 100% leaning heavily into the Victor Loves Oat Cakes thing. Because I also love oat cakes. He can't cook to save his life though. This poor man couldn't even make toast without it ending up either raw or literally turned to charcoal. All of which is highly ironic because he actually had cooking lessons due to ~circumstances of his birth~ - he just never paid any attention.

>Henry: Henry's favorite snack is literally any kind of bread. If Henry gives you his bread, that must mean he really likes you, because Henry would never give his bread away to just anyone. (<casually thinking back to the 'home again' segment where Henry smuggles like half his bread to take back to Victor> heh. gay.) Anyways- As for go to comfort food, rabbit stew - because when he, Victor, Ernest, and Elizabeth were all allowed to spend a weekend essentially camping in the woods, the first meal he cooked on that outing was an improvised rabbit stew. It didn't turn out well the first time, but the memories surrounding it are what made it special - so now even though he's really perfected his recipe and techniques and what he makes is practically unrecognizable to that first attempt, he can't help but feel all warm and fuzzy with the thought of spending the night goofing off with all his best friends. As for if he enjoys cooking, he loves it! It's one of his favorite things to do! He loves the creativity and freedom he finds in cooking for himself, and especially loves seeing others enjoying what he makes.

>Creature/Agape: For most of the AU he would say any sort of wild nuts and berries are his favorite snack because, well, they're just about the only snack he's ever really had access to. Later on he'll agree with Henry that bread is The Best, but is made even better when accompanied with a good goat cheese - so that easily becomes his favorite snack. As for comfort food, really just... Anything anybody cooks for him - the mere gesture of somebody making him food is enough to make him feel so incredibly loved, so it doesn't matter what it is, as long as it's being made with care. When it comes to cooking, he definitely enjoys it! He's not quite on Henry's level, but Henry is a great teacher and he cherishes every moment he gets to spend helping to prepare meals with him.

>Ernest: Favorite snack is... Any kind of sweet he can get his hands on. Bonus points for cakes and cookies. As for comfort food, he doesn't really have a comfort *food* but his comfort drink is hot cocoa, mostly because it's delicious but also because he has fond memories of sneaking into the kitchen with Victor late at night and making hot cocoa - because everyone knows the best thing to accompany Victor's "world famous" ghost stories was hot cocoa! As for cooking.. Ernest doesn't cook. He's convinced he's no good at it despite really never having tried. This is much to his detriment because when everyone else is gone and all the servants have been laid off, Elizabeth is the only one left to cook - and Elizabeth's cooking is.... Edible, at best.

Does your OC enjoy hugs? What do they do as a show of affection for: their friends, their family, their significant other(s) or for strangers? Over all what are they like with recieving affection from others?

>Victor: ...Sort of enjoys hugs. Victor is a little iffy about touch being initiated by anyone other than Henry. He prefers to show affection to others by way of compliments (or by clearly-sarcastic insults if it's someone he really trusts), and prefers to have affection shown to him the same way. There are only some exceptions to this rule, all of which include him either initiating physical contact himself or by explicitly stating that it's ok to touch him.

>Henry: Oh Henry loves hugs 🥺 Henry loves giving everyone hugs. You get a hug! You get a hug! Everybody gets a hug!!! Victor is his favorite hugging target obviously. Despite being a generally sharp and pointy object, Victor is surprisingly very huggable - this is probably because he just absolutely melts in Henry's arms. Henry gives hugs to show just about anyone affection tho, and loves getting hugs in return.

>Creature/Agape: How do you say "absolutely fucking touch starved on main" in french? Because yeah. Yeah. That's him. If you hug him he will cry. If you let him hug you he will cry. If you so much as rest your hand on him he will cry. And by cry in every case I mean a mixture of emotions ranging from joyful at the thought the somebody really cares and that they’re not afraid of him/don’t hate him - to mourning the fact that such acts of affection are seen as a rarity and something he’s not worthy of. As for showing or receiving affection, his best ways of showing it are either by giving gifts or by mimicking a person's behavior, or by just telling them he really appreciates them. And as for receiving affection, he'll take all the platonic/familial affection he can possibly get. It doesn't matter what kind.

>Ernest: Eh. Hugs are alright. They've gotta be gentle tho because Joints Hurty. Generally he shows affection to others by offering to do things for them or trying to help them with tasks, and as for his preferred way of receiving affection? Simple. Tell him not to help you. Let him have a fucking break for once in his life and he'll be absolutely thrilled. Either that or just tell him you can see he's really doing his best.

What little things do they notice about people or the world around them that make them happy? What tiny little treasures do they find in the normal every day that makes the world seem a little brighter for them?

>Victor: <gestures vaguely at Henry> This guy. This guy right here. Everything about this guy. Literally everything. I would go on but that would make this post way longer than it already is. So just. Everything. Also mountains, forests, grass in early spring, waterfalls, any body of water really - all of those things make him happy too. Also bones and shiny rocks. Oh. And moss and lichen. And moths. And stars!

>Henry: <gestures vaguely at Victor> I mean seriously loving each other is like 90% of these guys' personality. (that's not true but still lmao) Anyways other than Victor, he also is made happy by just about anything in nature, as well as just... Life itself. He thinks life is a wonderful gift and he's just glad to be living it.

>Creature/Agape: <gestures vaguely at literally everything all the time every day> Agape is a simple lad. He sees nature, he sees people that care about him, and he is filled with so much goddamn serotonin. Or at least he would be if he wasn't also filled with so much anxiety and trauma. The only thing that doesn't make him happy is people he doesn't know. People absolutely terrify him.

>Ernest: Ernest tries to see the best in everyone around him, so any time he does that he can't help but smile and feel a little more hopeful. Other than that, he's thankful for having such a beautiful home and, despite all the tragedy and all the responsibility that was placed on him because of it, he does enjoy the freedom of just... Being able to live as he pleases for the most part. Tending to the gardens outside makes him happy, finding new litters of rabbits emerging from their warrens makes him happy, baby goats make him happy, goats in general make him happy (humble goat farmer Ernest simply loves to vibe in the field with his goats), sharp pointy objects make him happy - so many things make him happy. So then why is he so sad all the time?

What way does your OC show that they care without using words? What way do others show your OC that they’re cared about without using speech?

>Victor: Despite generally not being a very touchy person, his best way to show that he cares without speaking is through touch. Either by taking that person's hand, resting a hand on their shoulder or back, giving them a hug, just... Anything to let them know he's there for them. As for how someone can show him they care? If it's Henry, literally anything will do. Hugs, hand holding, snuggling, gentle little kisses on the cheek or forehead or lips too. If it's anyone else, the best thing they can do is just... Sit with him. Just be there beside him. They don't have to say anything, just exist in his general space and that would be enough. He'll let them know if/when he needs any more reassurance than that.

>Henry: Did I mention Henry loves hugs? Hugs are the go to method for showing somebody he cares. He also loves receiving hugs as signals that somebody else cares. The H in Henry stands for Hugs.

>Creature/Agape: Well ideally he would show he cares by being attentive to their needs - so like, say, if it's Henry he'll give him a hug, if it's Victor he'll just sit with him for a bit (as long as Victor is ok with that). But unfortunately usually he feels like the best way he can show he cares without words is... by disappearing. He still thinks of his presences as being unnerving or a nuisance, so he often feels the best way he can let somebody know he cares is just by... leaving them entirely alone. As for how other show him they care, very few do, but those who do know the best way is through some kind of physical contact.

>Ernest: Growing up with a variety of different kinds of personalities meant that Ernest came to realize very quickly that there is no 'one size fits all' for how to show others he cares. So if it has to be done without speaking, then he'll simply try to find something to write on and try to ask through writing what the person needs. Either that, or sometimes he'll pull out his guitar and play them something to help get their mind off of whatever it is they're worrying about. As for others showing him they care, just leave him be, usually. Either that or write him a note just saying 'im here if you need to talk.'

[deus-ex-knoxina]

classical pianist andrew minyard

okay i KNOW. i know we all love classical pianist kevin day. but LISTEN.

in juvie andrew joins the music program. or, well, he sneaks in when he’s not at exy, and eventually the program directors decide more activities are better than fewer, and if andrew wants to play music and figures he might as well play exy, then they will make it possible for him to do both.

he’s immediately drawn to the drums (because d u h you keep everyone else on track, don’t have to stand up, get to hit things and make loud ass noises)

and he gets pretty good at it but one day he breaks a drumstick over the head of some asshole and the program director decides not to let him play drums anymore :(

in fact, the program director decides not to let him play ANY instrument that could be potentially used as a weapon. this rules out pretty much everything up to and including the harp, but not piano

and hey, andrew’s already demonstrated that he has a good sense of rhythm, so why not, right?

and the piano is andrew’s need to be loud and to get some of his anger out, and he can slam on the keys as much as he wants, he can teach himself the atonal pieces and the twelve-tone pieces and silently appreciate how they are crafted, not just created. they are deliberate. they are intentional. every single note is placed intentionally.

also atonal piano pieces frequently involve some stabbing at the piano so that’s fun too, because like i said. gotta get that aggression out somewhere now that he can’t throw drumsticks at people (he still does they’re just not his drumsticks)

and andrew and his eidetic memory and his speed and rhythm that he got from playing the drums and being in fights and his appreciation for the type of music that is crafted make him a PRODIGY.

he starts learning some older things, classical piano concertos written specifically so their composers could show off, and because andrew is andrew, he learns them flawlessly. he would be insulted by anything less. it’s one thing to fuck with other people when you’re playing with them, it’s another thing entirely to fuck with yourself. and andrew does not fuck with himself.

he starts learning some variations and thinks ‘oh, that’s not that hard, i could do that’, and suddenly he can sit down at the piano and figure out a short melody and improvise twelve melodies on it like he’s fucking wolfgang amadeus mozart

andrew finds himself appreciating what he knows about some composers. mozart, beethoven, tchaikovsky. these are people who have suffered and were never properly recognized until long after their deaths-- recognized as they were. mozart who was a prodigy, who burned bright but couldn’t get anyone to hire him permanently, beethoven who concealed his deafness as long as he could and fought as long as he could only for audiences to think he had made mistakes or couldn’t hear the dissonance of his own music, tchaikovsky who struggled so much in the closet

and andrew is an instigator at heart. he loves causing drama. and he DOES. how can he interpret this sonata in the way that will piss off the most people while still technically being true to what the composer wrote? who says mozart *really* intended the third beat to be weak instead of the strongest one in the whole measure?

andrew being andrew, he wouldn’t have done anything about this. he gets out of juvie and he goes to live with tilda and aaron and then he and aaron go to live with nicky. he would have forgotten about piano, about drums too.

but nicky (and it always comes back to nicky, doesn’t it, all the little accidents that mean that the twins have a shot at a good life) has an idea. it’s a terrible idea but it’s an idea. he’s always been able to sing, he thinks maybe if he teaches himself some piano he can learn to accompany himself, maybe find some hipster bars or coffeeshops and play there, maybe earn a bit of money, maybe just some free drinks.

he buys a cheap electronic keyboard and practices diligently, with some increase in skill, and andrew tries to ignore the keyboard and almost succeeds, almost, but he wants. he wants to do the one thing that successfully kept his interest through juvie, the one thing that he... kind of misses. he can be alone when he’s playing-- nobody interrupts, people leave him alone, and if he plays long enough then they even go away before he’s done and don’t bother applauding or complimenting him or anything at the end. it is mortifying to be known and andrew does not want this. he doesn’t want to play for other people. he plays for himself, and occasionally to piss off other people.

and it’s satisfying, tactically, to play a piece and get everything exactly right. he... enjoys it. that’s a realization that surprises him.

so he takes some chances. when nicky is at work and aaron is in his room, andrew starts to play. he hopes aaron will interpret it as nicky magically improving, or maybe nicky playing some inspiration-- because nicky is learning, and andrew does not make a single mistake. he plays slowly, at first, re-learning and also learning for the first time an instrument other than the old upright piano he learned to play on, but he plays perfectly.

aaron never mentions it and andrew grows bolder. he plays whenever nicky isn’t home, and when aaron isn’t home either he plays loudly. he remembers everything he ever learned, and soon he’s finding new recordings, listening to them, playing them by ear, and then playing his game and composing variations-- only he wouldn’t call it composing because that’s not what it is to him, it’s just a game. how much can he fuck up this melody while still letting it retain its true character? it’s amusing to him in a dark way. how much does he fuck it up before it’s not the same anymore? i never said it was healthy for him

playing piano, like being gay, is a secret andrew keeps control over. he chooses who, and when, to reveal it to. nicky takes the keyboard to college when they all go, for exy, because andrew minyard is smarter and more capable than he will ever truly let on, and has managed to master goalkeeping as well, with the bare minimum of effort. at this point, the keyboard is a hobby for nicky, not a money-making scheme, but he brings it. why not? andrew is secretly pleased.

the first person he tells-- the first person who wasn’t at juvie with him, because even after all of that time he’s still viscerally uncomfortable with random people hearing him play-- is bee. the second is kevin. or, well, he doesn’t *tell* kevin. he wanders over to the piano while kevin is talking and whips out a scarlatti sonata in double time, banging on the keys, flawless and yet somehow sardonic and brutal in the way that manic andrew is. he drowns kevin out, because kevin stops talking. he is... shocked.

but kevin is not stupid. he knows that andrew does not give up secrets lightly, and he knows that this is a secret, because he knows this is nicky’s keyboard, and nicky would have told him if andrew played. if he had known.

so this is a secret andrew is trusting him with, and if anything kevin is amazed because what does it mean for their deal, if there is already something andrew cares about? or is this like goalkeeping, where he’s good at it because he had no choice but to practice but at the same time refuses to put in effort?

kevin can’t make himself believe that these flawless, energetic piano pieces at the speed of light are the result of not caring. he wonders if andrew chooses the fluttering, embellished, complicated pieces because they provide enough things for him to focus on. and he wonders how that’s different from a game of exy, but he also knows he might never understand.

renee is the third person he tells. he offers, actually, to teach her. underneath the medication he recognizes someone who has something they want to cling to, but who hasn’t really figured out a whole... person, to wipe away who they used to be. renee applies herself diligently and plays duets with him. they still fight, but sometimes they play.

after he comes off of his medication, andrew can’t make himself touch that stupid keyboard for weeks. he wonders what will happen if he does. it’s neil that causes him to snap out of it, accidentally. neil doesn’t know andrew plays. nobody except renee and bee know that andrew’s music isn’t dominated by heavy metal and screamo. but neil has never played piano and is intrigued by it, in the way that you’re intrigued by something you know people care about, and you can’t fathom why. it’s a mystery to him. he’s bugging andrew in the monsters’ suite one day and winds up turning on the keyboard and plunking out some notes just to see what it feels like, and to neil, it feels like nothing. there’s no exhilaration. it’s about as exciting as typing a few letters on his phone.

but neil can get under andrew’s skin like almost no one else, and when neil shrugs and turns away from the keyboard, andrew finds himself sighing, standing, crossing the room, and saying, ‘not like that.’ and neil says, ‘oh? then like how?’, and it’s a challenge, and andrew knows it’s a challenge. and he meets that challenge head on.

neil doesn’t know he’s in love but he’s a little bit closer to finding out, seeing how andrew looks when he cares about something despite not wanting to. and andrew is surprised, because he’s given up another secret to a pipe dream, but somehow, he doesn’t regret it.

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

A lesson in knowing your limits

Gyroid hunting, magic spells, mountain climbing, hanging with friends - all the makings of a fun campsite event! But as with all events, there's also the stress of getting things done in time.

Let's say that what happened earlier today served as a reminder to us that sometimes life gets too stressful and that there will be times where we don't have everything under control. That's not to say that this gyroid adventure hasn't been fun, but on top of all the other stuff that's been going on, it's hard to enjoy yourself when your mind is elsewhere.

Since opening the camp, I have developed a love/hate relationship with the holidays. And with this being a holiday event, we're in a bigger time crunch if we want to get everything set for Toy Day. There's also the fact that Daisy Jane and I are going back home to Rosevine for Emmaline and Minnie's wedding right after the festivities so that puts even more pressure on ourselves to finish things fast.

Joining us for our toy gyroid escapades are Almie, Pippa, and a new friend - Mariposa Silva! Her name means butterfly - isn't that pretty! Almie and Pippa talked about her a lot last time and I'm glad to finally meet her! The three are staying with us until Toy Day, which is in a couple days, so Daisy Jane and I will be leaving with them for home.

I can see why Pippa's all starry eyed over Mariposa and after what happened today, I think the two of them being friends is the best thing to ever happen to her in light of everything she's been through this year. Almie's been a good big brother to her but Pippa really needs someone who can understand her and Mariposa's the kind of friend who fits right in.

So Mariposa is a newcomer who's been living with Rosevine's notorious troublemaker witch Luna as her apprentice. Luna may act all tough but we all know she has a soft spot for us kids like Almie and Emmaline. Pippa's been training with Luna too as witchcraft and wizardry kinda overlap in some areas. I don't know what surprises me more - Luna taking in a teenage girl she randomly bumped into (literally) with no questions and teaching her magic or Luna agreeing to help Pippa (a wizard of all beings - in short, bad association with wizards) with her magic as well as teaching some witchcraft as well. Then again, for the latter, Luna and Almie are partners in crime so it makes sense that she has a soft spot for Pippa as well.

What makes Mariposa unique is that she's able to conjure magic despite not being magical herself, which takes a lot of work. It's not an easy feat for us ordinary people - believe me, I've tried (and tried)! Maybe there's hope for me but at this point I shouldn't get my hopes up too high. Because of life circumstances she has to bear since birth (she really has a way with words), Mariposa has mastered the art of improvisation.

Since she can't summon magic naturally like Luna and Pippa, Mariposa developed her own way of conjuring glyphs and such. So she has to do a little bit of extra work to cast a spell, which can complicate things a bit. There's a lot of things that can slow Mariposa down, however there's two that can't. First is the conjuring of spells - she's resourceful, creative, and super imaginative - when you can't make magic the traditional way, you gotta get crafty. Second is her right arm - or lack of.

In short, Mariposa was born with a bunch of health problems, a nonexistent right arm is one of them. At this point it's all just "blah, blah, blah" to her. She's spent sixteen years with one arm - her entire life - so whatever pitying thing someone wants to say to her, she's heard it all. Sure it might complicate conjuring magic in some situations but she just rolls with it. That's why she's so good at improvising, problem solving, and thinking way outside the box - something she believes is the universe's way of compensating for what she's been given.

For the past few days we've been hiking around the camp looking for gyroids. Mariposa and Pippa showed off some cool spells they learned from Luna while Almie told us about their latest shenanigans. Highlights include Pippa one-upping a frenemy of Luna's with a scalding hot burn, Almie offering to fix up Luna's car with some "embellishments" which may or may not have caused a wingbat uprising, and Mariposa accidentally awakening an ancient spirit while trying to impress Willow and Angie. And of course, we've been talking about the upcoming wedding.

Since I last saw Pippa, she's been getting her strength back. From being diagnosed with leukemia to suffering from complications as well as a near relapse, the past several months have been hard on her. Almie said that outside of family, Mariposa and Angie, and later Willow, were a great deal of help - especially Mariposa. It's so good to see Pippa out and about, almost like how she was before she got sick.

I guess sometimes we're so focused on trying to get things back to normal after getting thrown off that we don't always realize that in many cases, there's no going back. With Pippa keeping up with her studies, practicing her magic, and helping out with the wedding, it seems like everything's back to normal. Aside from having to keep up with meds and appointments and such, Pippa's well on her way to recovery.

Of course, looks can be deceiving. While Pippa is doing well, she still has to be careful not to wear herself out too much. The wedding's been a bit of an incentive for her to stay healthy, especially since she's a bridesmaid - so she's been keeping busy helping Soph with planning the reception and everything. Pippa's a hard worker but she has a bad habit of putting herself last.

The main reason why Almie wanted to come back to the camp was to give Pippa a chance to relax. He's been protective of Pippa since her hospitalization due to other people's carelessness regarding her health. So he wasn't too happy when Pippa admitted to him a couple days ago that she slipped up by missing her meds a couple times over the past few weeks. He said she'd tell him if something was wrong but seeing that she's been trying to keep on schedule for the most part, she should be okay.

While the past couple days were fun, it was clear that the cracks were starting to show. A combined mess of stress from personal life stuff, holidays, the gyroid event, and the upcoming wedding hit us all at once. My mind was elsewhere, worrying about getting stuff done - it can be draining.

Mariposa was the one who helped us refocus by sitting Pippa down and setting some hard truths for her. Almie was right to be concerned about Pippa overworking herself. I get that she's been feeling stuck in a rut so anything to break her out of that monotony is a welcome change. It's good to try to get back on track but you can't force it. From the way she was jumping up and down and climbing all over the place, you'd think we were being timed on finding gyroids.

Exhaustion has a way of wearing you down, physical and mental. If we had health bars hanging over our heads, Pippa's would be almost depleted. And if I'm being honest, mine's probably in the red zone too. Almie and Daisy Jane are likely in red too while Mariposa's probably in yellow. To be honest, I think everyone in the camp's either a red or yellow - it's just one of these days.

So Pippa overestimated herself and eventually reached a point where she couldn't just get back up and act like everything's fine. As in, she fell off a tree, landing hard on her back and was unable to move for a few seconds, scaring the hell out of everyone. Thankfully she doesn't have a concussion or broken bones but she'll be really sore and bruised tomorrow. By then I figured that we collected enough gyroids for the day so we headed back to the camp despite Pippa's protests.

Almie's usually a pretty chill guy so seeing him go off on Pippa was... let's just say I'm glad we all cleared out when they both started raising their voices. When things started getting out of hand, Mariposa decided to step in for a bit. What she said to Pippa had me thinking about accepting your limits.

Basically what Mariposa's saying is that we can't measure our worth by our productivity. If anyone knows how Pippa feels about stagnating due to circumstances out of control, it's Mariposa.

She got it through to Pippa that it's okay to fall short of expectations. I get that it's frustrating when you try to set goals for yourself, only to fail - but you just gotta accept that sometimes things don't work out and it's not your fault. I know that Pippa can be hard on herself, especially since this year has been turned upside down for her.

Mariposa also brought up a good point about the whole don't let your disabilities and illnesses stop you from being accomplished. It's one of those things that's supposed to be encouraging but does more harm than good. Because there will be days when your disabilities will stop you from achieving what you want. There will be times when you're forced to put your life on hold while the world is unsympathetic to your battles. You have to learn how to accept that it's okay to step back and accept that there are things beyond your capability - and that you shouldn't be shamed for that.

In other words, it's important to know your limits. Wise words from the witch in training, something we all need to be reminded of.

Once it seemed like Mariposa's words got through to Pippa, we stepped aside so the siblings can have a moment alone. To keep ourselves busy, I took Mariposa to the Marketplace to craft Toy Day stuff with Reese, Cyrus, and Jingle, which she had a blast doing. After making a bunch of toys we headed to the cabin and put together gift boxes.

It was nice getting to know Mariposa on a one on one basis during that time. Almie and Pippa weren't exaggerating with her wild, creative, and daring imagination. Who knew that there could be so many ways to wrap gift boxes? We got to talking about a lot of stuff, like how she's enjoying staying with Luna, Skully, and Owly, her magic training, Willow and Angie - she's only been in town for a short time and it feels like she's been part of the Rosevine gang since forever!

Also, she has met Emmaline and Minnie so she's definitely on the guest list. Actually she's coming as Luna's plus one since she met the couple after the list was finalized. Though knowing how Emmaline makes friends like bees to honey, Soph made extra sure to accommodate for a growing guest list - which I'm pretty sure has doubled since the invitations went out!

Once we finished with the gift boxes, we headed back to the campsite. Pippa and Almie finally worked things out and were back to their old, playful, bickering ways. They surprised us with desserts - Toy Day themed cookies and mochi! After having a busy couple days hunting gyroids, we decided to take it easy with a cozy bonfire dinner.

Nothing like freshly baked cookies and mulled cider to unwind after a stressful week!

[letterboxd]

Run, Brittany, Run.

“It has changed my life. It’s changed the way I look at myself, the way I speak about myself or even think about myself. I feel like I’m a much kinder person to me.” We talk to stars Jillian Bell and Lil Rel Howery, and playwright-turned-director Paul Downs Colaizzo, about his debut feature film Brittany Runs a Marathon.

Transformation stories, makeover movies, ugly duckling tales: Hollywood has long been awash in them, but usually they’re steeped in fantasy (average girl discovers she is princess! Princess reveals she is ogre!). Brittany Runs a Marathon is the very real story of a woman who is transformed not by any magic spell or deus-ex-machina, but by the words of her doctor, warning her to follow a healthier diet, get some exercise and lose some pounds.

The real-life Brittany ended up running the New York Marathon, inspiring her friend, playwright Paul Downs Colaizzo, to write and direct a feature film about her journey. It’s a great vehicle for Jillian Bell, who racked up her own running miles to prepare for the title role. Playing Brittany’s wonderfully supportive brother-in-law Demetrius, lending moral support via video-chats, is Lil Rel Howery (Get Out TSA agent Rod Williams).

While Brittany Runs a Marathon is being heavily marketed as a comedy, “there’s something deeper, more serious and heart-wrenching lying at the heart of this film” observes Letterboxd member Nina. “Sticking to regimens and coming off of setbacks is hard,” writes Michael. “It was refreshing to see growth portrayed in all its fits and starts.” “A really beautiful story of someone trying to better themselves and how that doesn’t mean you have to do so alone,” Claire agrees. “Jillian Bell is excellent and really raw as Brittany.”

We spoke to Jillian Bell, Paul Downs Colaizzo and Lil Rel Howery ahead of the film’s US theatrical opening.

Jillian Bell (Brittany)

What was the first thing in the script that you related to and made you feel that you could be Brittany? Jillian Bell: I got the script from my manager and I was very nervous [laughs]. She said, “You’re going to be a little scared while you’re reading this because I think you’re going to relate to the character and then you gotta keep reading because the script is really beautiful and powerful.” I read it and I remember thinking the exact same thoughts: ‘This is going to be very different to take on than most things I’ve done’. It was different in a good way. Something I wanted to try and go out of my comfort zone. I just related to the characters so whole-heartedly. There were moments where I thought ‘someone is taping me right now’ because I’ve thought the exact things and now they’re in a script I’m reading.

What were some of the conversations you had with the real Brittany? How did meeting her affect your approach? The script is inspired by her story but there were a lot of other characters in the film that were not in her actual life story. Paul and I decided to create a character together and Paul had sent me early on a video of the real Brittany when she was making a tape to raise money for the marathon. I completely got her essence from that. She is so inspiring, smart, and funny, sometimes very silly.

Paul and I worked together on creating a character based off all these other characters and it informed us about X, Y and Z. But the first time I met the real Brittany O’Neal was when we were shooting a super emotional scene. I was concerned about making sure she was okay. It’s one thing to know that your life story was about to be told; it’s another thing to see an actor trying to portray all of these things you really went through in your real life.

What were the other types of preparations you did for the role? I decided I was going to do the actual physical journey of the character. I decided to lose 40 pounds for the shoot, 29 pounds before we shot and eleven while we were filming. I just thought it would inform me on certain approaches the script took that I didn’t quite connect to emotionally. There was so much that I did connect to with Brittany, and then there were moments in certain scenes where I thought ‘why is she acting that way? Why is that her response?’ Once I had done the physical journey I completely understood. I had never experienced what it was like to plateau, for example, and focus on a number so intensely. That was part of the script that I didn’t really understand.

You’re known more as a comedic actress and this was a fantastic opportunity to show off your dramatic talent. How did you want to subvert expectations of yourself coming into the more dramatic scenes? I think there’s always a lot of pressure when you try something that is different than people expect to see when they come to see a movie that you’re in. I was just so drawn to the script and I wanted to protect the character. I know I told Paul that I didn’t want anyone else playing her, not that anyone else couldn’t do it, but I wanted to make sure that the way I read it was the way he was going to shoot it, and he was so on the same page.

I felt like I was in really good hands. We were both taking a chance on each other. He was a first-time writer/director and this was my first time doing something that had dramatic elements, and I was playing the title character which I’d never done before. This is the first time where I was in a movie where I was in every single scene. I had no idea if I was going to enjoy doing something that was such a departure of things I had done in the past, but I truly loved it and I hope I get to do it again.

There’s a fine balance between the need for people to live healthily in order to avoid lifestyle-related illnesses, versus the need for society to accept everyone for who they are, no matter their appearance. What conversations did you, Paul, and other creatives have about this line? We had several conversations and talked basically every day for seven months before we started shooting. We wanted to make sure that we were being honest about these conversations: what it’s like going to the doctor and have them say to you: “You need to lose weight to be healthier” because of some health concerns; and the difference between that and the friendship that you have where somebody is saying: “You’d look better if you drop a few pounds” and how unhealthy that is. And how you can have self-hate and lack of self-worth and [how some of that] is society-ingrained ideas and some of that is of your own making. I think Paul did such a beautiful job with the script. We hit on everything without being too political or too shy.

We just covered Sword of Trust and had the delight of chatting with its director, Lynn Shelton. That’s another fantastic, funny movie you’re in. Can you talk about the different pleasures you get from working from a script versus the type of freedom you have in improvisation, as you did on Sword of Trust? I’m definitely more comfortable with things like Lynn’s film, where it’s not as scripted and you get to be extremely loose and bring whatever you want to it, and Lynn was so open to any ideas we had. I remember Michaela and I, the night before we shot, we were sitting in a hotel room together talking over who our characters were and what they wanted, what their goals were. We approached Lynn saying “this is what we’re thinking” and she said “great!”. It’s very different from doing a role like Brittany, where all I got was the script and I fell in love with that. I decided to stick more to the script than I’ve done with any other film. But I definitely wanted to make sure I was telling the story that I received and was so moved by.

Jillian Bell, Micah Stock and Michaela Watkins.

It’s awesome that in both these movies you’re opposite Michaela Watkins. It’s wonderful for me. Michaela Watkins is one of my favorite actresses. I just think she’s so strong, and honest in her performances, and she also makes me laugh harder than most people in this world. I would really love to work with her again. I’ve worked with her twice in one year so I’ve felt very lucky.

Paul Thomas Anderson has said he’s gearing up for a comedy with Tiffany Haddish. He brought you onto The Master and Inherent Vice because he thinks you’re very funny. You must be on his speed-dial for this project, right? I don’t know about that. [Laughs]. I may not be on speed-dial. I’m definitely a huge fan of his and I love that him and Tiffany are working together. That’s going to be amazing. If I hear nothing more than it coming out, I’ll be very excited to go see it.

Brittany has a life-changing experience and your hard work to demonstrate that really shows. How has working on the film changed your life? It has changed my life. It’s changed the way I look at myself, the way I speak about myself or even think about myself. I feel like I’m a much kinder person to me. It made me examine what I was putting out there and how negative that can be and I think that happens, not to all women but to some, and I’m definitely one of those women.

I feel like a movie like this really inspired me to look at that and have a deeper look at how I would talk about myself. I think this is the movie that I wanted to see when I was thirteen, about a real woman who was struggling with these things and how hard it can be to make the first step, how amazing it can be to really choose yourself first over everyone. It’s a hard thing to do, making that first step.

What was the film that made you want to be in film? Clue was the movie that made me want to be in films. I watched that when I was a young girl; it was one of the first VHS tapes we had and I watched it on repeat. It wasn’t just because I loved comedy and mystery and anything that’s a little dark and twisted; I also loved how all these funny character actors were the leads. I still love watching that movie and it’s still my favorite movie to this day.

Jillian Bell with writer/director Paul Downs Colaizzo.

Paul Downs Colaizzo (writer/director)

The film is based on your best friend and roommate Brittany. What was the moment you realized her story could be a movie, and how was she involved in shaping her own narrative and the tone of the film, if at all? Paul Downs Colaizzo: It was after a conversation she and I had after I first moved in with her, where she decided she was going to turn her life around and take control of what she could control and find some structure in her life. So she went for a run. It was when she was out for her first run that I thought this could possibly be a movie. I outlined it without telling her I was working on a movie that was inspired by her life and then a few months later I let her know. She was surprised and flattered and excited and interested and intrigued.

The character of Brittany is different than my real-life friend Brittany in a lot of ways but her DNA is all over it. She was incredibly supportive, and now she’s at a point where she’s excited that people are going to be inspired by something that was inspired by her.

Which aspects were fictionalized for the movie? I took some milestones from her journey and there were elements of her personality that I incorporated into the character of Brittany, but none of the characters is really based on anybody. The character Brittany is different from my friend and really none of the scenes from the movie is a recreation of anything that happened in real life.

What was it that convinced you Jillian was right for the lead? How did you identify the dramatic potential of the comedic actors you selected? [With] Jillian, I’d always been a fan of her comedy and her comedic acting; when she was in 22 Jump Street I fell in love with her. When I met with her about the role she really had this connection to the character. She wanted to tell the story and she wanted to protect the character in the way that I did. Her brain is naturally funny so we got the opportunity to play with the comic genius that is Jillian Bell and also expose this well of untapped emotion that most people had never seen her access. She’s never done a dramatic role before, I had never directed a film. We had to place bets on each other. That drove both of us to work as hard as possible to not let the other one down. 

The idea of the film is that we’d take a character who is typically a sidekick, start with the archetype of her as someone we know how to laugh at and create actually a really deep, personal pathos-filled human that we also empathize with and relate to. We wanted to do that with Brittany but also with all the other characters in the film. Luckily we got incredibly talented comedic actors who are normally playing supporting roles and also have these other elements of their personality that we were able to expose and illuminate for the world to see.

Do you feel there are films or plays that have done justice to body image issues before? What did you want to bring to the topic you felt was lacking? I never really approached this as a body-issue film. I started working on this in 2011 and that wasn’t really part of the cultural conversation at the time, at least in the way it is now. Her relationship to her body was always a big element of the film as far as her trying to understand what her own value system was, not the value system that the world put on her. But I would consider it a story of a person coming into their own.

I think we all can relate to this idea that we’re not living the lives we want to live and that we’re maybe not taking ourselves as seriously as we could because we’re afraid that if we try we will fail. I think we’ve been ingrained to feel that failure is a bad thing. For me this was a story about a person who learns to help and dream for herself and pursue these dreams in a way that’s earnest, without losing her edge and irreverence in the process.

I like how you kind of utilized the “friend-zone” in a way most rom-coms don’t know what to do with. What were some of the genre clichés you deliberately resisted? Again, you know, I never really looked at it that way because I come from theater. I really am just looking at the characters and their journey and the story we’re telling and how it all relates back to the theme. It’s not quite how I look at the construction of a story; I’m not starting with the genre. The one thing I was starting with here is I was starting with the archetypes we were familiar with and allowing the story to decidedly go in a different direction by deepening the characters and seeing where the story would go as we deepen the characters.

How do you feel your instincts as a playwright and experience in television informed your approach in making your first feature film? What were the different satisfactions in the process? The good news about theater is that it’s an all-hands-on-deck situation. You’re making things work, you’re solving problems because there are limitations in the space in which you’re telling the story. In an indie film, there are also a lot of limitations. So getting creative with your surroundings and figuring out how to multi-purpose environments so they can be several different settings so your film can have a feeling of scope and a change of scenery, but also be filmed in a certain amount of time, was a technical thing I brought over from theater. But beyond that, it’s all storytelling and it goes back to Aristotle and the poetic and finding heroes with flaws that we can relate to. It’s just, in this movie, I’m just asking that the sidekick is the hero because she deserves to be one too.

You filmed at the New York City Marathon. That sounds very challenging. Can you talk about your experience filming there? Did it go smoothly? It was incredible. There were six of us from the crew permitted to be there. We had three units in the race. It was a monster of a day. And also, the action you see in the marathon is easily one of the most emotional days of the city in the year because everybody is so supportive and lovely and kind to their fellow man. We could feel it that day, and I think you ultimately feel that energy in the film. It’s a magical day to experience in real life and we did our best to honor that.

What was the importance for you of depicting an LGBTQIA+ family in the film? I’m a gay man. I think this story is about giving depth and relatability and asking for empathy for all of the people in the film, many of whom are “others” in our society. I wanted to subvert the idea of the gay best friend as a trope, which is usually in a lot of ways the comic relief or kind of a hot mess, sort of the character Brittany would be in a typical big comedy. I wanted him to have a full life that honored where our culture is headed and made the gay storyline as relatable as any other storyline.

What are the types of films you’d like to make moving forward? Do you see yourself making more personal projects/dramedies like this or maybe adapting your own plays? I’m gonna go wherever the inspiration takes me. One thing a friend of mine observed about my work recently: I tend to like to unfreakify people we freakify. My guess is that thread will remain in my work but I’m going to do it in a whole bunch of different ways I hope. I’m working on something right now that’s a historical thriller but I’m not done with it yet. I’ll let you know.

What was the film that made you want to be a filmmaker? The first film that made me realize that films had the amazing potential to break through to people all through the country in all sorts of situations and make them feel excited by the idea of insight was American Beauty. I grew up in Georgia in a conservative area in a religious home and the idea that my life could be subverted in a way that movie depicted made me excited to understand more about myself and the world about me and the lies we tell ourselves.

Great choice, it was formative for me too, I resent this backlash it’s been getting. American Beauty? Fuck that! It’s great!

Lil Rel Howery as TSA agent Rod Williams in ‘Get Out’.

Lil Rel Howery (Demetrius)

What did you connect with most about the script? What was it that stood out to you? Lil Rel Howery: How honest it was and how Paul did a good job of writing the human experience on an aspect of you know, “you lose weight, everything becomes peaches and cream” but you have to get your mental health together too. I thought it was dope. Brittany’s character really showed all the different processes of getting it together. She would be running and losing weight and it’s like “everything’s going great now” but then here comes an obstacle. It’s not about the weight, it’s more than that, and I thought that was very deep. I love how, also, he wrote all these stereotypical characters in such a human way without a political agenda to it. He made these beautiful families look like real people.

Most of your scenes you’re acting in front of a computer. What were the challenges of acting without your co-star present? How did your scenes work? I always joke with people, like, “I’ve done more than Get Out”, and they’re like, “Have you ever acted with people before?” I’m joking. It was acting, man. I think one of the things I love about what Paul did a good job of was each of us got our one-on-one with Jillian. And not just one-on-one, especially for us funny people, very dramatic one-on-ones. It wasn’t hard, it was a beautiful well-written movie and for me, that scene with me and Jillian was one of the coolest things I’ve ever filmed because it was filmed with honesty and emotion and I think we did a good job of filling that.

Do you feel eager to show that dramatic side of yourself? How will you reconcile that after establishing yourself as a comic relief? I’ve never put myself in that box. Unfortunately people just love to do that, I guess. With Get Out, as funny as I was in that, I was only funny to people because it was so intense. It wasn’t like I was just telling jokes. I wasn’t doing anything silly. My character Rod was just being honest: “This is what I think is going on.” It’s just funny the way I was saying it because the rest of the movie is insane. I even look at Bird Box, that character, I threw in a couple of jokes in there just because I felt like it, but that was a dramatic character. 

Even the scenes in Get Out, most of those things were dramatic. Even doing Uncle Drew, I made sure they didn’t make me the funniest person in that movie, especially with a movie with everyone running around with prosthetics. I thought that was crazy. I made sure I was the one who brought the heart into the movie. I’m very specific about what I pick. So I think with my next few films, the ones coming out this year, along with Brittany Runs a Marathon and the stuff I’m filming now, I just think you’re not going to put me in a box. You’re just going to have to call me good at one point.

You are good! [Laughs, generously.]

What are the different pleasures for you working in a scripted format compared to the freedoms you might have on other projects where you can improvise jokes? The crazy thing is, when people hire you they want to hire the best of you, right? I can improv drama. When I met with Paul it was about playing a love interest. We had a conversation of how I loved the script so much and I was talking to him about how I wish the father figure would be aggressive with her and he ended up making me that character where I played the father figure. He created this character based on our conversations. This character didn’t even exist at first.

I’ve worked with directors so far that trust me, and I trust them along with the creative process. I’m one of those dudes who’s a control improv-er. Maybe some comedians go off the rails. I know what the story is, I know what the moment is, I never go off what we’re supposed to get. My only thing I like to do is make a scene real. Even if the scene is funny, I don’t like to do nothing funny if it ain’t real. If it’s too silly, I don’t want to do it. I’m very big on keeping it real.

The same goes for my standup. My standup always comes from a real place. I try to make sure, everything I do, every project, every role, even the stuff now, I’m working with some great directors and I’m like, “can we get on the phone today because some of these lines are too stupid. Let’s think of something better and dramatic and I’ll make it funny” [laughs].

Get Out is a bonafide classic. It must have been exciting two years ago when it was being lauded and discovered, but in hindsight, it’s a key part of a movement that’s defining Hollywood right now. How does that feel to be part of? It feels great, man. I feel like I’m a part of so many different versions of that. I’ve been lucky, I’ve been able to do some cool stuff, man. I think with Get Out and what that did. I think about even Bird Box, you can do whatever you want, that was a fun time and I loved the script. After that, Netflix said they were breaking all these records. “This is a record-breaking movie.” There are a lot of interesting things I’ve been able to do, which I’m not done with.

I think for me, Brittany Runs a Marathon falls under that category with Get Out where I don’t think people know what they’re about to get into. I remember telling people that about Get Out and they were like, “Oh, okay”, and I was like, “Naw, you have no idea what this is about to be”. I think Brittany Runs a Marathon is like that too, I don’t think people have any idea how special this movie really is until they see. That’s why I think it’ll do well word-of-mouth more than anything.

Did you get to keep the hoodies for your character’s birthday? That’s the best piece of costume in a film for 2019. [Laughs]. Naw, I didn’t. It’s so funny you say that. I don’t know why I didn’t keep a t-shirt. Damn, I should’ve. I’d keep anything.

What movie made you want to be in movies? Let me tell you something funny. It’s not a film that made me want to take this on at first. It was an episode of Family Ties. It’s the episode where his friend got killed by a drunk driver [season 5, episodes 23 and 24; a two-parter titled A, My Name is Alex which won the Emmy for Outstanding Writing for a Comedy Series in 1987]. Michael J. Fox performed in a way, you know, you watch things to be entertained at first? But that was the first time I watched an actor and I was like, “Yo, this is crazy good”. Then he did like a one-man show in the second part, like a play where he was walking on different parts of the set and it was different parts of his life. Man, I thought that was brilliant. I thought, ‘Whatever job this is, this is what I want to do!’ [laughs].

‘Brittany Runs a Marathon’ is in US cinemas now.

[doomfisthero]

...& Stepping Out

And here’s the second half! Enjoy!

“…Jacob!”

I blink, and everyone is back, looking at me with outright fear in their eyes. “S-sorry, what?” I stammer, knowing that it’s hollow. I didn’t mean to dive so deep.

“I healed your arm,” Felipe says. As I turn toward him, he pulls his hand back, and I see a few rainbow embers flicker out around it. Does he look tired after helping me? Is that how his healing works? I can’t tell. “How does it feel?” He asks.

Belatedly, I lift my right arm and move it around, and it doesn’t hurt at all; it’s not even stiff. I bring it back down. “’s fine,” I mumble, looking slightly downward at nothing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the mood or anything.”

The Rangers exchange glances around me, uttering quiet sounds of worry. I make quick glances upward, dancing in and out of eye contact with everyone to avoid the pity in their eyes. The voice from my darker brain whispers alluring thoughts that run down my spine and claw at my insides.

I got hurt, I messed up, I made everyone worry I can’t do anything here I’m completely useless why am I here I shouldn’t be here I should never have asked-

“Jacob,” Thuban speaks, a gentle murmur that I respond to immediately, rising from the mire and looking him in the eye. He knows – somehow, he knows how I feel, because his red eyes are full of sorrow. “Forgive me, but there is something wrong, isn’t there? Something deeper than mere injury.”

I nod. I can’t even consider disregarding Thuban Chuan.

The dragon’s whiskers twitch as his frown deepens. Despite this, his eyes never become anything less than caring and soft. “There is no need for you to carry your pain solely by yourself, my dear friend. Though we may have only known each other’s faces for a brief time, I promise that you are cared for and loved by everyone on this ship. We all bear injuries, and it is our duty to unite and help each other heal.” He places a hand over his heart. “I swear, by Draco’s eternal name, that if you speak, we will all listen.”

Everyone else speaks gently in assent.

“He speaks the truth, Jacob,” Rasalhague says, serene but focused upon me. “It would not behoove us to ignore the suffering of a dear companion. Whatever pain you choose to lay bare, we will do our best to carry you through.”

“Listen to Pops and the kid, Jake-o,” Champ adds, his voice a gentle rumble. “You’re cruisin’ with us now, dude. Whatever you gotta let out, you got eleven pairs of ears here for ya. Don’t leave ‘em hanging.”

Logically, I know that they’re all right. I have no reason to doubt that everyone in this room, standing around me now, would drop everything to be at my side if I needed them. I turn my head slightly toward Keaton, the creation yet to be surpassed by anything else I’ve conceived of, and he gives me a firm nod and a warm smile. I have no reason to doubt him, or anyone else.

But against the current in my head that comes and goes like a midnight tide, reason doesn’t always mean much. Even so, it’s an anchor, and I grip it as tightly as I can and pray like mad that everyone can help pull me to safety.

It takes a moment to decide the order of my thoughts, and then I take a breath and being speaking. “Shortly after we met for the first time, after Matty and I left you guys, I told Matty a story,” I say. “A…another fantasy I’d created where things…took longer to go well. Where we didn’t click like we did in reality. I don’t know if Matty – did he tell you about the Dark Matter Power Sphere?”

The Dark Matter Power Sphere – a concept I’d created for the Nebula Nine universe while anticipating my first meeting with the Rangers. I knew my difficulties with making friends, and I’d feared the idea of failing to connect with the Rangers after wanting so badly to meet them in person, so I devised a happy outcome for that scenario. A Power Sphere of shadows, unconnected to any constellation, that would Choose anyone who could claim it – sharing in the Rangers’ powers would surely form a strong bond between myself and them.

Even before the pleasant reality that led me to discard the fantasy, I’d refused the Dark Matter Sphere’s offer for fear of supplanting Matty within his own beloved universe. But if I was made the same offer now, I can’t say I’d decline.

“Matty did tell us,” Raptor says. “And he explained your reasons for crafting that fantasy.” She looks at me, her usual stern expression tempered by a concern that I would describe as sisterly. (Is she older than me now, with the time that’s passed in-universe? Are any of the Nine? I have no idea.) “For what it’s worth, Jacob, we’re sorry. We had no idea that you felt distressed enough to need a fantasy like that. That was never our intention.”

“It must have been pretty nerve-wracking to think about,” Lizbeth adds, looking at me with sympathy. “We’re flattered that you’d consider us a special interest, that’s no small thing to say. The idea that you could be let down after thinking about us for so long…I get it, Jake. That’s a crazy level of anticipation.”

Felipe nods in agreement. At times like this, it’s really nice to know that I’ve got friends similar to me, who understand what being autistic can be like.

“You didn’t let us down, by the way,” Ze’ev chimes in. “Meeting you was one of the best things that’s happened to us, big guy. We were all so happy that you wanted to visit us, and we all had an awesome time talking to you. I’m sorry you were so scared about clicking with us, but honestly I think we clicked long ago, before we even met.” He smiles and cocks his head. “Back when we only knew about you through Matty and Keaton, and they told us all about how you took care of them and gave them so much thought and affection. That’s when I knew we would get along great if we ever met.

“And we did!” He pulls his fists to his chest and grins. “After you left, it felt like we’d known each other for ages! I understood exactly what Matty and Keaton always said about you! You never needed a Dark Matter Power Sphere, Jake, you’re amazing all on your own!”  

Everyone agrees, with energy to spare – Champ booms a loud “YEAH!” from nearby. It should bring a grin to my face, being reminded that my friends will stand as a bulwark between me and the mire.

While I do smile slightly, however, more than anything their words just make my chest tighten even more. I should feel like I’m enough, they said as much…so why don’t I?

“Thanks, guys. I-I’m happy to hear that,” I respond, because I feel obligated to. “You guys didn’t let me down either, I just want to say. Don’t…I couldn’t have asked for it to go better. I really feel like I clicked with you guys too, so, like…you too. Every, everything you said to me, Ze’ev – you too. All of you.”

My wispy smile fades, gone in an instant. “But that’s not…that’s not what my problem is now. You said – Ze’ev, you said I never needed the Dark Matter Power Sphere, and I know that’s true, but…I’m starting to want it again. And I know it’s not real, but I’m starting to wish it was, after what happened today, because…”

I take some of the bedsheet in each hand and start twisting it as an improvised stim. My constricting chest forces soft, breathy noises from my mouth, and I can feel the pressure of tears building beneath my eyes. “I had to…to hear you guys fighting for your lives, and it was – it was terrifying,” I say quietly. My voice catches toward the end, and I begin to shake. “And I…I couldn’t help. I-I couldn’t fight, I couldn’t d-do anything but get hurt and now-!” A convulsion sends a stream of tears spilling down my face. “I…I don’t think I’m enough anymore.” I barely finish the last word before I hang my head and sob.

I feel terrible for it.

Immediately I feel hands come to rest gently upon my body; looking up, I see Felipe, Champ, Keaton, and Ze’ev holding onto my shoulders and arms from both sides of my bed, bearing sad, sympathetic looks mirrored in each of the other Rangers’ faces.

“Jacob, we…” Ze’ev begins. His lip quivers, and his own eyes are quickly growing wet. “We’re so sorry, Jake. You must’ve been terrified, having to sit and listen to everything.”

“Today was a mess,” Felipe mumbles, shaking his head sadly. “We’re just…used to it by now. All the fighting and other grak we get into. We never…we never thought about how you’d handle it.”

“I should have,” Keaton says, looking up at me from a head bowed in shame. His voice is thick. “I’ve struggled with that – being the last civilian on a ship full of heroes. Feeling you ought to be doing something but being helpless in the end.” His shoulders shake as he takes a deep breath. “It really sucks.”

“Yeah, it does.” Champ wipes a stream of oil from his optics with his cape, staining it dark as fresh lubricant spills to replace what he wiped away. “J.J., that Dark Matter story…it was kind of a bombshell. You seemed so happy back then, we had no idea you were freakin’ out inside. And today…ya seemed fine again, so we thought everything was A-OK in Jakeland…!” He bunches up his cape over his eyes and sniffles into it. The dark stain in the cape’s fabric grows by the second.

He blames himself for this, for not realizing the danger, and probably the others do too. That realization is another anchor, pulling me from my whirlpool of emotion and granting me a little more focus. I rub my eyes and take as deep a breath as my racking chest will allow. Things still hurt, and I’m still sobbing, but I need to fix this.

“I-I was having a good time,” I say, as clearly as possible. “I was-was so happy to finally meet you guys, and Matty too. I couldn’t have…couldn’t have asked for a better day.” I run my fingers through my hair. “I just…I had a, uh, depressive episode, a little while after. It really th-threw things off. I couldn’t stop thinking about, um, about-about what it meant to ask to visit you guys as me, not as Keaton. I already spend a lot of time in fiction, and espe-especially in your universe. I’ve got my own worlds to work on, and real life stuff.

“Then I started, ah, catastrophizing,” I say, using a word I learned in therapy. “I started wondering what I could even do in this universe, since it-it’s not mine. I don’t have a Power Sphere, can’t have one if I don’t live here, and I don’t really know how to fight. I thought for a while that I could find some way to access their minor powers, and just learn to use those…but I forgot this isn’t like Kyuranger, where there’s minor Kyutamas that the Kyurangers can use at will.

“Anyway, I…I couldn’t stop spiraling, feeling more and-and more like I messed up, until I started thinking that I…maybe I shouldn’t have even asked to meet you guys at all. That wanting to do stuff with you guys was a-a big mistake.” One last whimper passes through my lips, and then my breath comes a little easier – a break in a storm. The worst seems to have passed, and I do feel better for having spoken about everything.

Seph blinks and shakes their head. “Wow, Jacob. I…Matty told us you had a hellbrain like his, but we had no idea stuff like that ran through your head. For what it’s worth, we’re sorry you had to live with that. Sledge, if we’d known, we would’ve said something.”

“Indeed,” Rasalhague agrees. The stare he fixes me with is warm and compassionate, devoid of the eerie blankness that once colored the Ophiucian’s gaze. “Jacob, being that we do not share a mind, I cannot comprehend the pain that you have experienced. However, I implore you – as do we all – not to consider our association a mistake in any regard. You would be doing yourself a grave disservice.”

The young man’s slitted pupils, unsettling as they may be, soften as the thought crosses his lips.

“Raz is right, Jakey!” Solomon adds, clapping and spreading his hands dramatically. “You gotta think about all the good you’ve done! Matty’s happier and inspired, the Wufflebear power couple is a thing, and we’re finally going places! That’s on you, Doomguy! I know having a Power Sphere would be the maraschino cherry on the sundae, but you’re an awesome guy without one!”

Felipe bites his lower lip and mulls his words over before talking; his voice is quiet and timid, contrasting with his firm bedside manner from before. “Jacob, I…as someone who’s had some experience with all that, depression and the like, I…I don’t know exactly what it’s like for you, but maybe…if you don’t mind, we could…talk about it? Just you and me? Might help us both, I guess…” He nervously rubs the back of his neck.

“Yeah, that’d be nice, if you want,” I assure him, and the Leo Ranger seems relieved. It always feels good to speak with people about things like this. “I just…I don’t know. It doesn’t always make sense to me, what runs through my head when I’m like this. I thought I had to be like you guys to belong, a powerful and badass warrior, but…I don’t think I can be that here. I’m just me, whatever that entails.”

“Jacob, that’s not a bad thing!” Lizbeth states with a sad but determined look in her eyes. “That’s what we’re saying – you don’t need to be a Ranger or any kind of warrior to be our friend! Maybe it doesn’t feel like enough, but I promise it is! There’s a reason we all wanted to meet you, and why Matty let you visit us, and it’s not because you’re a badass. It’s because you’re a good person, and a great friend!”

“She’s right, Jacob,” Raptor nods. “And outside of incidents like this one, we really don’t fight as much since Hyperspace fell. You wouldn’t have that many opportunities to fight with us.” The gynoid internally weighs an option. “Although…if you truly want to stand beside us, you don’t need a Power Sphere. We have some other weapons and tech that we could show you how to use, like our Nebula Weapons. It wouldn’t be the same as what we can do, but it’s something.”

I blink, taken aback. “Wait…you’d do that for me?” I ask. I was only expecting reassurance, to be told that my presence here isn’t an anomaly. Not an offer to stand on the battlefield with the Rangers themselves.

“We certainly would!” Shaula declares. “Besides, we don’t only go on adventures and fight evil. We have normal lives now. Perhaps…it would be good for you to see us in environments other than the Asclepius.” She smiles. “I, for one, would be honored to show you about the Scorpian court and introduce you to my people, if you chose.”

“And you could visit us at college!” Keaton adds, perking up. He motions to himself, his brothers, and Lizbeth with a circular movement of his hand. “We can show you our dorms, and introduce you to our friends, and everything!”

“You can help us with our homework,” Felipe deadpans, causing everyone to laugh.

“And I could teach you to wrestle!” Champ shouts, practically vibrating with excitement. “Come to MSU, and I’ll totally show you the ropes! I’ve already been teachin’ Kee and Feli, just for fun!”

I laugh. “Wait, really? Would I need a wrestler name?”

“Absolutely!” Champ brays. “We’ve all got ‘em – we’re a trio of animal brothers! The Steel Steer, the Luthian Lion, and the-”

“Mafi-orso,” Keaton says quickly.

“Blueberry Bear!” Champ finishes at the same time, shooting Keaton a pleading look.

“They’re ironing it out,” Felipe comments, taken by his own big grin.

“Truthfully, we no longer fight as regularly as we once did…” Shaula’s expression becomes eager and excited. “However, I have been trained in martial arts since my childhood, and I wouldn’t object to taking a student of my own. Have you ever trained in any sort of combat before?”

I blink. “Uh, karate. I got my black belt, but it’s been a while.”

The Scorpian princess claps. “Superb! Working back to that level shouldn’t take long, and then we could spread out to other disciplines at your discretion. You would receive an excellent education, I assure you!”

“Don’t forget about me! We still need to compose your song!” Solomon chimes in, pulling out his futuristic lute. “You don’t play any instruments yourself, do you?”

“Piano and alto sax,” I reply.

“Keyboards it is!” The rock star says, dancing with glee. “Now we just need to cook up some rhymes for ‘Jacob’, and we’re gonna make it shine!”

Thuban murmurs a pardon and walks alongside my bed up toward me, everyone else on his side stepping back to form a path. He towers over me for a moment, then kneels to lower himself toward my eyes. “If I may, I spent a considerable period without Draco’s blessing as well, Jacob,” The dragon says. “And I too spent many nights in frustration, feeling as though that made me unworthy to stand astride my companions. I needed time to understand the impact that my presence had upon the Rangers, and the help that I could provide them with my own power, regardless of my capabilities compared to theirs.”

The dragon places his hand gently on my arm, and he smiles – a comforting and benevolent sight. “Jacob, my dear sir, we value you because you are a kind, compassionate, and creative young man who has given more than time enough to us and our creator for no reason other than you liked us. You don’t need power, or the potential to wield it, for us to consider you a precious friend and companion. You have already blessed and inspired us to no end merely through your own talents and character. For that reason, and not any power you may possess, you will always be welcome aboard this ship.”

As everyone agrees with their Commander’s words, I feel myself welling up again, for a very different reason than before. “You guys…thanks so much. I…I’m glad to be here.” A watery chuckle bubbles up from my chest.

“And we’re glad as Goldor you’re here, bud,” Keaton assures me. “We’re in no rush here, but if you’re feeling better, Felipe can give you the all clear and we can head out to Cajia. We’ve got a lot to show you before the concert tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you have to see the spice trees!” Lizbeth says, grinning. “They should be blooming this time of year, and they’re so beautiful!”

“And the food’s really good, too!” Ze’ev adds, tail wagging at the thought of the Cajian cuisine. “We’ll show you all the best sights, and it’s gonna be great, I know it!”

Coming from Ze’ev, I don’t doubt that for a second. As Felipe gives me a clean bill of health and we all depart to the surface of planet Cajia to explore, I wonder exactly what I’ll do in this universe that I’ve come to love so much. I’m not sure if I’ll be any good at fighting, but I wouldn’t mind learning as much as I can regardless. Perhaps the stars will smile on me and I’ll get to have some heroic moments of my own.

It’s a massive universe, and I’ve got the best companions I could ask for; with that in mind, I’m sure it really will be a great time.

[i-am-so-over-you]

Yoonmin Fic Recs Masterlist (only happy endings)

So I have been reading a lot of Yoongi/Jimin because they are giving me all the feelings, here are some of my favourite ones. I will keep updating this. It is short because I just started not too long ago. :)

Note that this is for fun only and I do not actually believe that the real Yoongi and Jimin will be romantically linked in any way. 

All of the fics are complete and on Ao3.

Updated: 19th February 2018

Wow it’s been a while since I’ve updated this list and I came back to 800 notes!! Here’s more of my recent favourites.

Aeon

aeonian (adj.) [ee-oh-nee-uhn] eternal; everlasting.

In the year 1304 A.D., tensions between the Vampires and the Lycans are at an all time high. Min Yoongi is the Captain of the Death Dealers and the most elite of the Vampires' protectors. Over the long years of his life, Yoongi has grown unemotional and apathetic, no longer interested in feeling emotions. When the human nobles come to visit, Yoongi meets Park Jimin, the youngest son of a baron, and his whole life changes. Suddenly Jimin is the most important thing in his world, and Yoongi will do anthing to protect him.

Me: Someone I just enjoy the same story of aloof Yoongi finally finding something to care about, no matter the universe. Enjoy this one, I loved it.

oil, lube, service

"Unless you know what a ‘rear oil change’ is? I mean, what the hell are they going to oil, my tires?” Jimin laughs at the ridiculousness. “Oh, I don’t know, but that sounds kind of kinky, 'changing your rear oil.' It sounds like the mechanic is preparing you for buttsex.”

“Tae!” Jimin complains.

AKA The mechanic AU where Park Jimin thinks Min Yoongi is overcharging him for car maintenance, but he's really not, cue Yoonmin falling in love.

Me: It’s refreshing to see real-life relationship struggles and personal insecurities in a fic. Honestly I think our fandom has one of the most talented writer base there is. This was so good. The author is someone I set notifications for so I get an email whenever they update. Amazing work. Do check out her other stuff if you looking for great characterised stories.

Warm Mr. Wolfie

Jimin's late aunt left him a cabin last year, and he still hasn't been by so he takes time off to spend the holiday season there. Little does he know he'll meet a wolf on his hike behind the cabin, a wolf that will change form in front of him and claim to be his mate.

Me: If you are looking for something short and cute this is the one to go for. Very fast burn.

Gotta Be Fate (If We’re Under the Covers)

Jimin is excited to just sleep for a day and maybe catch up on some tv shows at the hotel.

That is, until they get to the new hotel they’re staying at, and he gets handed a room key that’s the same as Yoongi’s. Meaning, he and Yoongi will share a room and worse, he and Yoongi will have to share a bed.

“Why do I have to share with Yoongi-hyung?” Jimin complains. He’s managed to avoid it this whole trip which is really in his best interest if he wants to keep his raging heart boner for him hidden.

AKA my response to Yoonmin sharing a bed, 8 years too late.

Me: I’ve loved canon-compliant fics, not because I really believe the real-life them are together but because it makes it easier to picture, somehow, This is so cute and sweet.

The Songbird and the Sea

In a world where dominance of the sea is an endless battle between pirates and mariners, Park Jimin is content living in his little village on a small, uninteresting island by the eastern mainland. He wants nothing to do with the bloodshed of good and evil, the heartless killing of both innocents and condemned, the constant establishment and disruption of order. What he wants is peace, to live his life in the same town he was born in, to spend his days in the beautiful forest, and to use the powers of his Blessed Rune to nurture the home he loves so dearly.

But when his island is attacked by pirates, Jimin will have no other choice than to do as they command and leave all thoughts of peace behind in favor of boarding the Agust, a pirate ship captained by the infamous Min Yoongi, Black Fox of the East.

Me: I just want to say that I’ve been aware of this pic since a very long time ago but I refused to read it until it was completed (cos I am just not very good at waiting). THIS IS A MASTERPIECE.

Updated: 28th September 2017

Winter Blues

Yoongi is turned into a cat by a sorceress, and novice witch Jimin finds him and takes him home. Fluff and feelings ensue.

Me: This fic is fluff. Fluff. Fluff. There is just enough tension. Just enough angst. Just enough everything to make this the perfect warm-feeling fic to end off the night before you sleep.

7 Minutes in Heaven

“It’s a fusion game. The person who spins the bottle gets to ask the person it landed on truth or dare, and if that person doesn’t want to answer or do the dare then they either take a shot or take off an article of clothing,” Jin says like he’s proud of improvising such a fantastic game. “I’m not playing that,” Yoongi says. “Hyung, don’t be a party pooper, are you scared we’ll learn your secrets?” Hoseok asks and Namjoon ah’s dramatically. Yoongi shakes his head and puts his tongue in his cheek before he smiles at their antics, pushing Namjoon over closer to Jin so that he can sit down. “Please, hyung, it sounds like fun!” Jungkook says. “It’s my birthday.”

Me: Indulgent!Yoongi and shy!Jimin is my favourite thing.

Coffee and Honey

"-Hyung...- Hoseok sighs -You are as intimidating as a pink marshmallow. -That's the fucking point! -Yoongi literally bangs his head on the table -He IS a pink marshmallow."

In which Yoongi has insomnia, cannot for the love of God socialize, and Jimin is the way too cheerful and, oh, so downright gorgeus barista who works in a nocturnal coffe shop.

Me: As an insomniac, this fic feels like a dream come true.

13 Iconic Yoonmin Moments

"Taetae

https://youtu.be/jESuM-NRS9k 23:59 I feel like you might want to watch this, hyung ;) 23:59"

Or, the one where Taehyung sends Yoongi a video that shows the top 13 Iconic Yoonmin Moments, and suddenly Yoongi is way too aware of the way Jimin acts around him.

Me: I really love canon BTS fics and this one is good so much that it is believable. I really really love how the writer made it realistic and well-paced.

Money can’t buy happiness (except when it does)

“So, I know that you're homeless and that you don't need my pity, it's just that I noticed you always write on the edges of your notebook because you probably can't buy a new one, so I bought you six new notebooks and... wait, are you crying?” AU

Me: This made me sad but made me smile at the same time. As always, all fics all this list end well so get ready for some light angst that ends with fluff.

Please don’t take my Sunshine Away

"As you took the sun away from my life I will do the same. You'll never feel the sun on your skin again, you will never see the light of day. Only when someone will feel for you love in the purest form, in the brightest way, only then the sun will come back again. But too bad, such love does not exist and it will never find it's way."

Min Yoongi is cursed and hasn't seen the sun in three years. Enter Park Jimin, literal ray of sunshine, and suddenly the sun isn't so important anymore.

Me: As someone who has days that feel like they never see the sunlight. I think I am also looking for a Jimin who is the embodiment of sunshine.

in your eyes (it’s where i wanna be)

Jimin pauses with his marker inches away from the cup, because — is he really going to do this? Isn’t it a bit old-fashioned to write something flirty on a coffee cup? But no matter what his churning gut says about danger and what the hell are you doing do you want to die, this guy is — with no better way to put it — totally Jimin’s Type with a capital T.

(Or: Jimin accidentally starts a nickname war with the cute blonde who likes his coffee way too bitter.)

Me: This is just so much cute blushing Jimin and tough but secretly soft Yoongi. I love love love this so much.

Updated: 25th June 2017

I only rec fics with happy endings.

Heated Love

"In his daze Jimin barely realizes the seriousness of the situation, but he’s sure of one thing: he’d trust Yoongi with his life. And right now, with his aching body and burning skin, he couldn’t trust anyone else but the alpha to take care of him."

In which Jimin is going through his first heat and, again, he doesn't really know what to do.

Me: this is the continuation to the First Love fic further down this list. I am a sucker for protective!Yoongi and needyOmega!Jimin so let’s just leave it at there. I also might have a bit of a Hyung kink but let’s not talk about this anymore.

Movie Night

Movie night with the band usually means a lazy evening watching some dull western flick while eating unhealthy amounts of popcorn, but every now and then, when it’s Jeongguk’s turn to pick, it means gory horror movies that has Jimin burying his face in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck to not scream in terror at every single jumpscare.

And Yoongi? Well, Yoongi finds a new way to distract him.

Me: This is *blush* the filthiest one-shot I have on this list and it hits all the right spots. Featuring the shy Jiminnie and his indulgent Yoongi. 

Barbershop Romance

Jimin's impromptu visit to a salon called SUGA turns out to be more interesting than he expected. Way more interesting.

(Also known as 27 pages full of tooth-rotting fluff, painfully obvious flirting, and sexual tension.)

Me: This is just so much fluff and tension and Min Yoongi being a secret softie for our Jimin. 

Barbershop Love

Jimin has never taken his best friend’s jokes about his alleged praise kink seriously, because that’s all they are and ever will be. Jokes. They’re stupid jokes that Taehyung makes at his expense to see the shy Jimin turn into a blushing, embarrassed mess of stuttering protests and meek curses. They’re only jokes, and they’re so stupid.

Or at least Jimin has always thought so, but then his hairdresser boyfriend asks him to pose as a model for his winter collection, and Jimin realizes that there might the teeniest, tiniest bit of truth to Taehyung’s persistent teasing.

Me: I am quite the sucker also for a Jimin with a praise kink. Let’s just leave it as that. This is a sorta sequel to the fic above. MissterMaia is a genius, I would recommend reading everything they have written.

Greedy

Yoongi gives Jimin anything he asks for, but Jimin still wants more.

Me: SugarDaddy!Yoongi pampers SugarBaby!Jimin but his baby wants more. So much more. This is just fluff there is so much fluff.

Math Tutor

Min Yoongi is the school's resident Bad Boy™. He's covered in tattoos, is pierced, curses like a sailor, smokes like crazy, doesn't give a shit about anything, possesses a hot temper that has people steering clear of him, and is desperately in love with Park Jimin, the adorable math nerd. When Jimin is tasked with tutoring Yoongi in math, who is in danger of failing the class and being held back a year, both boys are hesitant. Yoongi because he can't think straight around the boy with startling red hair, and Jimin because Yoongi is scary as hell and looks like he can easily kill someone. Gradually, though, the two grow closer, and Jimin finds that Yoongi is nothing like how he'd imagined.

Me: BadBoy!Yoongi being a softie for our good student Jimin. Hits all the right spots.

Blueberry Muffins

Park Jimin, a meek, quiet assistant at Bangtan News Station, catches the wrath of his long- time crush, the 7’o clock news anchor, Min Yoongi, when Jimin accidentally switches scripts one night and almost causes an incident on live, national television. Yoongi is furious and makes Jimin cry in a room full of their coworkers, calling him names and telling him how stupid he is. Afterwards, Jimin takes to avoiding Yoongi like the plague, and Yoongi, who at first couldn’t stand Jimin, can’t help but start noticing him everywhere. Soon he finds himself falling for Jimin, which scares him, because Yoongi has never felt this way about a man before. Will it be too late to salvage a relationship with Jimin, or did Yoongi ruin his chance for good?

Me: Some light angst here and there but of course, like all the other fics in this list, there is a happy endings. 

The Devil’s Mistress

Yoongi is Captain of the pirate ship, the Devil's Mistress, and he and his crew are racing against time to find a famous buried treasure, always one step behind and losing it to another rival ship. To gain the upper hand, Yoongi kidnaps a silver-haired beauty who is rumored to be a creature of great power. He isn't expecting to fall in love on the way.

Me: I love the bed-sharing trope in fics. So this is perfect.

Side Dishes

Yoongi is Korea's most famous actor. He's kissed so many pretty girls that he doesn't know what love is supposed to feel like anymore.

And then he meets rookie actor Park Jimin.

Me: What? A fic with feelings and plot and also a secondary plot that is good enough to be a fic of its own? 

Magic Appa Love Scone

The one where Park Jimin thinks he mostly has his shit together until he wakes up married in a future universe that tells him otherwise.

AKA the one where fate slaps Park Jimin across the face.

Me: I know that the title sounds weird but wow this gave me far too many feelings. 

Sexy Mochi

Yoongi’s never really understood why it’s a stereotypical thing for alphas to have some obsession with omega’s necks. He’d always thought that was kind of weird and just some macho ��make your mate submit by biting their throat’ thing until he’s alone in the kitchen with Park Jimin and his damn shirt falls down his damn shoulder.

Me: Omega!Jimin is a tease when he wants to be.

Spring Day

Even when he was a pup, Park Jimin never even dreamed that he would find his soulmate. Thoughts like that were better left to his hopelessly romantic best friend and partner in crime, Kim Taehyung. It's a one in a million chance, but a twist of fate brings a strange wolf into Jimin's life and it changes things forever.

Me: Alpha!Yoongi learns to love with our little Omega!Jimin. With a healthy amount of angst to add to the fluff at the end.

Updated: 3rd June 2017

I have returned with some new fics I found over the last few weeks. Enjoy! :D 

Out of My System

Yoongi likes one night stands and he understands how they work. What he doesn’t understand, however, is how he ended up in bed with a probably-not-legal kid crying in his arms about his broken heart, because he’s pretty sure (and correct him if he’s wrong) that a babysitting job was not what he was looking for when he went to the opening of his friend’s new club.

Me: How do I say this, there are fics that start with one night stands and none of them went on as beautifully as this one. It is a natural progression, almost like a real relationship, I am like the way Yoongi is portrayed here. Conflicted but ultimately a softie at heart.

where the heart is

She hadn’t been ready to be a mother and Yoongi hadn’t been ready to be a father, but where she had turned tail and run, Yoongi had vowed never to do the same.

Me: I wasn’t expecting this single father Yoongi story to pull me in as much as it did. There is sufficient twists in this to keep it interesting and also a climax at the end which is nice. A soft, mostly fluffy story of how a Yoongi believes in love again. 

tear the moon from the stars tonight

"Remember what I told you. You are mine now and I take care of my things."

Joseon Era AU: Jimin, a low born, catches the attention of nobleboy Min Yoongi.

Me: I wasn’t sure what to expect of this Joseon AU fic but it was pretty good, with enough character progression. Read it for something different.

Paper Chase

Jimin thought that joining a fraternity would be all parties and fun. He hadn’t anticipated falling for his cute roommate, Yoongi.

Me: If you are looking for some light fluff and PWP, this is the fic to go for. It is a hard R so beware.

Updated: 29th May 2017

when you're in love all the lines get blurred

Jimin isn't sure what possessed him to lie to his mother and tell her that he had a boyfriend, but now that he's opened the position, he has no choice but to fill it. Yoongi is, apparently, his only option.

Me: I just love love love love the whole fake boyfriend idea no matter which fandom I am into at the moment. I really enjoyed this one there is some angst but also so must fluff.

The 100-Day Love Challenge 

For a variety show challenge, Jimin must tell Yoongi every day for 100 days that he loves him.

Me: There is nothing for me to explain. Nothing. If you are having a bad day and need fluff this is it.

Conflicting Arrangement

"Absolutely not," Yoongi deadpanned. "Namjoon-ah. I value you as a friend, and I think I'd even go as far as to say that you're my best friend, but absolutely fucking not."

"You owe me," Namjoon pleaded. "Come on, Yoongi, it's not a big deal."

"Your boyfriend's best friend's best friend needs a fake boyfriend to come out to his family this Chuseok, all the way in fucking Busan." Yoongi repeated drily without pause, making Namjoon wince. He flipped a page of his textbook, picking up his highlighter. "Not a big deal, Namjoon. Amazing."

Me: This is a really really long fic but god do I love it. It is worth it. Slow but the character development is really really well done. It is also yet another pretend boyfriend fics (I just love them)

First Love

Jimin is being courted for the first time. He doesn't really know what to do.

Me: This fic is in the OmegaVerse, if you are not into it please do not enter. I repeat, DO NOT ENTER. However if you are, this fic is just too precious not to share I want to drown in the fluffiness of it all.

Do You Like Your Drafts Rough?

As a romance novelist, one would think Min Yoongi would have his own romantic life sorted out a little more than he actually did. Because instead of being in a happy, nauseating relationship, Yoongi was juggling both a one-sided crush and some punk who lived downstairs.

Me: This is an AU where Yoongi is a writer and Jin is a librarian. I highly recommend the entire series.

we pass in front of a flower shop (and i catch the scent of roses)

Jimin's a florist who sings to the flowers and crushes hard on the mint-haired man who just came in to buy a cactus.

Me: Just picture Jiminnie singing to flowers and watering them because i am dying at the thought of it and this fic is exactly what it is. PLEASE READ for a fluffy time.

[homo-noodles]

.:Dream Daddy:. Robert x Dadsona "Tattoo"

Spoilers for Dream Daddy!!! Dream Daddy is an amazing game with beautiful art, clever dialogue, and lovable characters. I really recommend you check it out if you haven’t yet. This fanfic will have your personal dadsona with Robert; I tried my hardest to type this fic so it could work for any and all dadsonas, although there may be some exceptions. This fanfic is assuming you got an S rank on all dates with Robert, and you ended up with the good ending for him. (This means that you got 100% stuff correct when dating him). I tried my best to do the game justice, so I hope you enjoy. Thank you. (Be warned! This is a One-shot, meaning it only has one part and it’s finished, but it’s pretty long!) Since I can’t possibly know what name you gave him, your dadsona will be referred to as “(d/n)”, which stands for “dad’s name”.

(Besides the heavy spoilers, this fan fiction contains a head canon to Robert and Joseph's relationship, and Joseph's involvement in his cult)

_______________

"And what's this one from?" I asked softly as I gently traced my finger along the small scar on Robert's chest.

"Unicorn".

I laughed "Oh boy, can't wait to hear this story. I didn't know you had beef with a magical horse!".

Robert and I were laying together in his bed, the both of us shirtless and pantless. After a full day of spending time with one another, we decided to just relax in bed almost completely naked. It was way nicer to lay together in just our boxers; I loved the feeling of Robert's skin against mine. As we laid there, I pointed out the little scars on Robert's chest, asking him how he got them. Of course, he just made up stories for all of them, which to be honest....I really enjoyed. I loved hearing Robert's improve; it was really impressive. We've known each other for months, so I was always able to tell when he was lying. ...I mean joking. I've even started to pull some of my own improv tricks!

"Betsy and I were sitting together at the park at night, right at the edge of the woods. I was carving, ... simply enjoying the stars...when Betsy started to growl at something".

I smiled gently as I rested my head against Robert's bare shoulder, closing my eyes and enjoying the crazy origin story of just one little scar. I blushed faintly as I felt him start to stroke my hair as he spoke "...and as I got back on my feet, Betsy chased the unicorn halfway into the woods. When she came back, she had the its horn in her mouth! I've kept it ever since".

I looked up at Robert with a smirk and a raised brow "Oh really? Can I see it?". Robert smiled slyly "Hmm...I don't know...you've gotta be pretty special for me to show that to you". I jokingly whined "Awww...c'mon, Bobert~". He responded with a playful glare "I told you not to call me that". I giggled "C'mon, Bobert. We're literally laying naked together".

Robert chuckled with a roll of his eyes "Alright, alright. But tell no one" he then reached into a drawer sitting next to the bed; it was where he kept all of his wood carvings. He pulled out a long and slim piece of wood that was carved to look like a unicorn horn. Like always, it looked really awesome and very well done. "Wow...that's...beautiful!" I grinned and nuzzled Robert's neck, gently kissing the crook of it "You're so talented" I purred softly. He blushed at the compliment and sat the fake unicorn horn aside, wrapping his arms around me "I couldn't have done it without Betsy". I smiled widely, just enjoying the warm snuggles with bad dad.

I opened my eyes and remembered something "Hey," I spoke in a soft tone "When did you get this cool hand tattoo?" I asked, gently holding Robert's left hand. I've never questioned that tattoo until just now; I'm not sure why... I guess it never occurred to me. When I thought about it, it got me really curious.

Robert pulled his hand away, and I looked up at him in confusion. His expression was....very serious all of a sudden "Uh...a couple of years ago" he replied, definitely not lying....which was weird for him. I raised an eyebrow "What does it...mean?". He frowned, and I stared at him in surprise "Nothing" he grumbled, sounding uncomfortable. Now that was definitely a lie....but, it wasn't a made up story. When Robert 'lies' to me, it's only ever when he's making up some outlandish tale using his improvisational skills.

"Really? ...that's it?" I didn't know what to say....Robert hasn't acted like this since I first met him, which was almost half a year ago "It...just doesn't mean anything?". Then, out of nowhere, Robert pressed a deep kiss to my lips, gently pulling me close. My eyes widened in surprise, but they slowly closed as I melted against it. We laid there for a while just simply making out, until Robert pulled me on top of him and started to stroke my sides, eventually moving his hands down to the brim of my boxer briefs. I quickly pulled away, realizing what he was doing "W-Wait wait, Robert. Wait". He looked at me with an expression that held worry, but with a stern and serious twinge to it. I looked back into his eyes, giving him a concerned stare as I gently held his face "What's up with that tattoo? I know it's more than just a simple marking...I can tell by your expression".

He frowned again "I don't want to talk about it...". I sighed, feeling as if I was talking to Amanda. I didn't want to upset him, but I didn't want him to bottle up his feelings either. Alright, I'll just ask him one more time...and if he doesn't want to answer, I'll drop it. "Robert, are you sure? You know you can tell me anyth-".

"YES! I'm sure!" He interrupted me with an angered tone, glaring daggers at me. I looked at him in shock, feeling a painful feeling of hurt in my chest. He's...never talked to me like that before. This was the first time he's ever really gotten angry with me. I slightly moved away, feeling tears wanting to fall. Goddammit, I'm such a wuss... I felt bad; I didn't want to guilt-trip him or anything, I just couldn't help but feel awful.

As soon as he saw the tears, Robert's stone-cold expression instantly changed to soft "(d/n), I...I'm sorry...fuck....I shouldn't have..." He sighed stressfully as he pressed his hand to his forehead. I sniffled and wiped my eyes "N-No, ...I get it. It's okay. I'm a baby, I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel bad. I...I don't have a right to ask you that question".

"No, (d/n). You do have a right. I trust you....I love you..." Robert argued "I'm just...very sensitive about that tattoo". "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want...you can tell me later...or never. It's okay" I quickly said, not wanting to be a burden. "No, I'll tell you. But...how about I tell you tomorrow. I'm really tired...and I think this conversation would be better if we were dressed and clean". I felt an almost non-existent smile tug at the corner of my lips "O-Okay...you're right" I leaned close and gently kissed Robert's forehead, before laying back down next to him and snuggling close. He pulled the blankets over us and wrapped his arms around me "Love you, (d/n)" he whispered softly, wanting me to know that he wasn't mad at me. I hugged him close "I love you too, Robert".

The next morning, I awoke to the feeling of Robert's arm gently around me. He was laying on his stomach, facing me, and I was laying on my left side, facing him. I smiled lightly and stroked his hair, loving the sight of his relaxed expression. Robert slowly opened his eyes and looked at me, giving me a tired smile "Morning" he muttered as he rubbed his eyes. I sat up and got out of the bed, stretching my arms out with a yawn. Before I could say anything, Robert sat up and spoke first "You gonna get in the shower.... So I can tell you about my hand tattoo afterwards?" he asked with a sarcastic and snarky tone.

I chuckled in amusement "Yeah, if you don't mind" I replied with a grin as I walked towards the bathroom. Robert sighed softly and looked at his scarred hand as I left to shower. He gently rubbed the top of his hand with his thumb, just staring at the black tattoo for a moment.

His silence was broken when his Boston terrier, Betsy, jumped up onto his lap. Robert grunted in unexpected pain as the small dog panted happily and licked his face "G-Good morning, Betsy" he said softly as he pet her head "Guess that means I gotta get up" he sighed as he gently moved the excited little dog off of him and got up to get dressed. _______________

As soon as I got out of the shower and dressed myself, I left the bathroom to find Robert. He was sitting on his couch drinking whiskey while Betsy laid next to him, her head rested in his lap. I sighed softly and sat down next to him, lightly leaning against his side "We don't have to talk about your tattoo if you don't want. I just...don't want you to bottle up your feelings, ...or lie to me". Robert ran a hand through his messy hair "It's alright. I trust you, (d/n). I'll tell you". I looked up at him and then looked down at his right hand, observing the mysterious, minimalistic sun tattoo.

Robert took a sip of his drink, cleared his throat, and sat the glass of alcohol down on the side table. This is the kind of thing that he would do to get ready to tell a long fictional story that he called the truth, but I trusted him to not lie to me. Plus, I could usually tell when he was making something up anyway.

"When Marilyn, ...my wife, passed away, I was in a pretty dark place. It's... part of the reason Val and I started fighting".

My eyes lit up a little. Okay. He's definitely not making this up; he never jokes about Marilyn. I stayed silent, letting him know that I was not going to interrupt, and that I was paying attention.

"Everyone in the cul-de-sac wanted to help, but I usually just kept myself shut away from them. The only people I ever talked to or hung out with was Mary... and..." he sighed quietly "Joseph".

I raised an eyebrow, getting kind of confused. Robert always acted weird whenever Joseph was around, or whenever I mentioned him. I think he's really nice; he was one of the first dads I met in the cul-de-sac, and he's always been pretty friendly. Mary and Robert have both acted very strange around the blonde youth minister, and I've never known why. Mary is his wife! She'd always avoid him to go spend time with Damien in the graveyard or Robert at the bar.

"Eventually... Joseph and I... started dating" Robert admitted quietly under his breath. I looked up at him in surprise, assuming that he's told that to almost no one, maybe only Mary...or maybe not? "I...don't even really know if I actually loved him... I was just... so desperate to be in a relationship again, and... he did help me feel better about myself. Just by a little". Robert rubbed the back of his neck "But uh... after a while, we decided to split up. He's married to Mary, and... I shouldn't have been in a relationship at that time".

I looked at him with a sincere and concerned expression; I could sense that he was close to tears. We sat there in silence for a moment, before I finally worked up the courage to say something "I'm....um..." I didn't know how to word it; I didn't want to be rude or ignorant "I'm glad you told me, Robert, ...but...what does...that have to with your tattoo?".

Robert scratched the side of his face "Right...erm ..." he looked as if he was trying to figure out how to tell me "I got the tattoo from...Joseph. It um...was kind of like a symbol of our relationship" he said this with a bit of unsureness "I just don't like talking about it because...it....reminds me of the tough parts of my life".

Something about what he just said was fishy, but... I didn't try to argue or pry. I just, accepted what he said as the truth; I trusted him. "Well, thank you for telling me, Robert. I hope it made you feel better?" I said, worried that he was upset with me. I felt relived when he looked at me with a faint smile "Mhm, talking about it helped. Now I never have to talk about this stupid tattoo ever again" he replied, reaching over to his glass of whiskey and taking a sip of it.

I smiled happily and rested against his shoulder. For the rest of the day, we mostly just relaxed. We watched TV at his place for a while, before going out to eat. After spending the whole day together, I eventually went back home.

The next day, I got a message from Joseph on Dadbook while I ate breakfast. I smiled and checked my computer, seeing that he wanted to hang out. I love spending time with everyone in the cul-de-sac; ever since Amanda and I first moved here, I've become great friends with all my neighbors. I gladly told him that I'd love to hang out.

"Sure thing! Do you have a time and a place in mind?".

In just a few moments, Joseph responded.

"I was thinking noon would be a good time! That sound okay? I thought I could take you sailing".

I thought about my fear of the ocean, hesitating for only a moment. I shrugged and quickly replied.

"Yeah! Sounds great! Should we meet at the bay?".

"Sounds perfect! I'll see you there!".

I kept my warm smile as I finished up eating, looking at the clock to see that it was 9:15 a.m. There was still a couple of hours till I had to leave, so I decided to watch Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Ghost Truckers to pass the time.

When the time came to go, I got myself ready, getting an unexpected message on Dadbook. I quickly checked my computer, expecting it to be Joseph. My faint smile faded when I realized it was Robert.

"Hey, (d/n). Mary and I are heading to the bar. Wanna come?".

I sighed, feeling bad that I had to say no.

"Sorry, I can't. I'd love to, but Joseph invited me to hang out with him. Maybe you and I can go cryptid hunting tonight?" I suggested, wanting to make up for not being able to hang out.

It took a moment, but Robert soon replied with a simple "Sure". I felt kind of bad, but I knew he'd have fun with Mary, so I felt good that I wasn't completely leaving him alone.

Right before I left, I messaged him a quick: "Love you". _______________

"I just needed to get away from the house for a while. The sea is always so relaxing; the calming waves, the oceanic fragrance, and even the seagulls" Joseph spoke smoothly as he looked to the cloudy, blue sky.

I smiled, the both of us sitting in lawn chairs on Joseph's yacht "True... but the whales...". Joseph let out an amused chuckle "Oh c'mooon, The whales aren't going to bother you! Just enjoy the beautiful sea!". I giggled "Maybe you're right. Thanks for having me, Joseph. This is a lot of fun!".

The religious dad looked towards me and smiled "Of course! You're my good friend, I'm always glad to have you". His eyes lit up, as if he had gotten an idea "Hey, there's some wine down in the bedroom of the boat. Think you could grab some glasses?". I nodded "Sure. Be right back" I got up and walked off, going down to the room Joseph was talking about.

I stepped into the room, seeing clothes strewn about around an untidy bed. There was a wardrobe full of different things such as books and boat-themed items, along with a coffee table that had a bottle of wine and some wine glasses sitting on it. Curious, I passed the table and stepped up to the wardrobe, deciding to do a little snooping. Okay, maybe 'snooping' isn't the right word.... Robert's antics has definitely rubbed off on me.

Searching through the shelves, I found some bibles, some ocean-aesthetic trinkets, and even some photos. I picked up the pictures and looked through them, seeing that most of them were just captures of the dads in the cul-de-sac, or Joseph and his family having fun. There was one photo that caught my attention though. It was a picture of Robert....wearing a very familiar blue sweater. I quickly realized that it was Joseph's...and this picture must've been from when him and Robert were dating. I instantly felt bad for looking through Joseph's stuff, so I quickly put everything back.

I started to leave the room, but I jolted in surprise when I slipped on an empty wine glass that was sitting on the floor. I fell backwards, letting out a shocked yell as my back slammed into the wardrobe, slightly shaking the wooden furniture. I fell to the ground, getting sore quickly "Ahg..." carefully standing up, I brushed myself off and nervously turned around, hoping I didn't ruin anything.

Something instantly caught my eye. I looked up to see an odd looking book sitting on top of the shelf. I raised an eyebrow, wondering if I should take a look or not. With curiosity getting the best of me, I reached up and grabbed the dusty ol' book, gently brushing it off. It had dark grey front and back covers with aged pages, and a black symbol on the front. It was the same symbol as Robert's hand tattoo...

I slowly opened the book, and a sudden dread encompassed me. I gulped and started to read the black text, realizing that it was Joseph's journal. It started off sort of normal, but...as I read on, everything just went downhill. There was a lot of talk about 'sinners' and their 'impurities'. I continued to read, seeing eventual information about....me? It was a recent entry too.

"(d/n); a great neighbor and an overall great person. He's truly a fine fellow, and I am glad to have him as a friend. It would be a shame to lose that. Hopefully he stays true and pure...I have faith that he will".

Getting uneasy, I stopped reading the paragraphs about me and skimmed through the pages, anxiously reading through the devious phrases and sentences. Did I mention how thick this book is? It's about the size of a Harry Potter novel. It seemed as if Joseph has had it for many years. As I got to the older pages of the book, I read something...horrifying. My eyes widened in fear, and my hands shook.

This book contained logs of information...and a part of that information was about everyone in the cul-de-sac. Reading it, revealed that...somehow...Joseph was the reason why all of the dads were single. It didn't say that word for word, but I was able to put two and two together.

Hugo's ex husband...Craig's ex wife Ashley, ...and...even Robert's deceased wife Marilyn. Joseph was the reason behind the divorces and deaths of all of the spouses of the dads! How was this possible?! Who is Joseph?! What is happening?? Is he some kind of cultist? Why would he do this? HOW could he do this? The book confirmed that he's definitely religious...but...he wasn't an ordinary youth minister. He's some twisted freak destroying the lives of my friends. Wondering why he would be doing such demonic things, I speedily read some more. In his writing, Joseph explained how Maple Bay is a "psychic beacon of unfathomable power" that "requires sacrifice". This was complete nonsense....I couldn't believe tha-

STEP...STEP...STEP..

I jolted, getting startled when I heard footsteps approaching. I frantically put the book away, scrambling to grab the wine and two wine glasses. I ran out of the room, immediately bumping into Joseph "J-Joseph!" I yelped in surprise, taking a step back.

He looked at me in confusion "(d/n)? What's the matter? What took you so long?". I shook my head "Uh, n-nothing. Sorry, I got uh, ...side-tracked with something....heh" I gave him a cheap smile, hoping that he would believe me "I um, was just looking around the room. I decided to take a quick peak at some of the books that you own! Very interesting information. A-After that, I stumbled upon some old photos of everyone in the cul-de-sac, it was really sweet!".

Joseph looked at me with a suspicious glare. Something about the way he looked at me terrified me. It's as if he was reading right through me...as if he was reading my mind. He suddenly smiled "Oh, well I'm glad you found my stuff endearing. I should've come down here with you, I could've shown you those things myself". Before I could reply, he took the wine bottle and a glass from my hands "But it's alright. Now c'mon, let's get back to enjoying the ocean with Jimmy Buffet".

I simply nodded with a nervous gulp, quickly following him back up to the deck. Once back up there, Joseph and I went back to sitting on our lawn chairs. He drank some of the wine, ...but...I drank none. I had an awful feeling of dread in my chest. I was sitting right next to a murderous cultist!

"Hey, ...(d/n). Are you still nervous about the ocean?" Joseph asked, having a...very odd tone to his voice. It almost sounded as if he was secretly mocking me, but...he had no reason to, so...I just told myself that he was speaking normally. Did he know? How could he know? There was no possible way that he could know that I know.

"Uh...y-yeah" I rubbed the back of my neck, leaning against the chair with a deep exhale "I'm uh, ...I'm okay though. I'm having fun. It's really pretty out today, and Jimmy Buffet is always nice to listen to".

Joseph simply nodded, and for the rest of our time together, we stayed silent at times, while only occasionally chatting. The conversations were always started by Joseph, and I always made them awkward, but...Joseph seemed to never take note of it.

Finally, after Joseph took us back to the bay and we said goodbye, I rushed home. When I got back to the cul-de-sac, I dashed to my house and hurried inside. I haven't been this scared in forever...I needed to tell Robert.

I logged onto Dadbook and quickly sent a message: "Robert, you need to come over now. There's something really important I have to tell you".

I sighed deeply as I sunk into the couch, thinking about how terrifying and confusing this whole situation was. This couldn't be real....it had to be some sort of joke, right? ...Right? As I thought about it...I remembered Robert's hand tattoo. I don't doubt that he got it from Joseph...but...was he lying to me? What does that tattoo mean? Does he...work with Joseph? I had no reason to believe this, but my paranoia got the best of me. What if Robert doesn't actually love me? ...What if it was just all a big setup created by Joseph?

I shook my head, not wanting to believe this. Robert has shared so much with me...and....we've done so much. Besides, Joseph was the reason Marilyn died! Why would Robert be on his side? Unless...Robert didn't know that Joseph was the cause of his wife's death.

After minutes of sitting by myself just thinking about everything, I heard a sudden knock on the door. I froze, obviously getting startled. I shakily stood up and walked over to it, thinking that it was Robert. I glanced to the ground, seeing an envelope sitting there. Someone must've slipped it in after knocking. I picked it up and ripped it open, seeing that there was nothing in there...except an odd, sweet-smelling aroma.

I inhaled, instantly regretting that when I started to feel light-headed. Losing control of my body, I dropped the envelope as my arms went limp and I passed out, collapsing to the ground. _______________

I awoke slowly, feeling that my face was pressed against a cold floor. I opened my eyes, seeing that I was in a dimly lit room made out of brick and stone. I looked up, seeing a wall with chains connected to it. That same wall also had a red symbol painted on it. It was the same symbol that was on Joseph's journal, and on Robert's hand. Panic quickly settled in as I looked down, seeing that I was all tied up. Ropes were tightly wrapped around my ankles, legs, and around my chest and arms, which were put behind my back. I could barely move.

"F-Fuck...this can't be happening...th-this can't be happening" I felt tears brim my eyes "Oh god...oh god...A-Amanda....Robert...fuck.." I laid my head on the ground, shaking as my tears dripped from my face. I stayed there for a while, before a voice interrupted my anxiety "(d/n) ...oh, c'mon...don't cry".

I looked up, seeing Joseph wearing a dark grey robe, something that a priest would wear. Such an article of clothing shouldn't be so menacing and threatening...but Joseph definitely pulled that off. "J-Joseph, p-please don't hurt me! I-I promise I wont tell anyone about this...".

Joseph chuckled "Oh, hush, you're being ridiculous" He smirked lightly "I really wish you didn't read my journal. Since you already know about this, I can't have fun explaining it all to you!" he shrugged "Well, I suppose you wouldn't be here if you didn't read my journal in the first place".

I sniffled "W-What? ...H-How did you know that I read your journal?".

"The same way I know you notified Robert before I slipped that envelope through your door".

My eyes widened "W-What?". 'Can he...actually read my mind? Holy shit...' I thought to myself, thinking that I was going crazy. Joseph snickered softly "Mind reading...I suppose you could call it that". I gasped "Oh god, Joseph...please...please let me go...you don't have to do this anymore". Joseph sighed "I'm sorry, friend. You knowing my secret makes it less of a secret, now doesn't it?". I stayed silent, ...not knowing how to respond.

"Now, if you'll excuse me... There are some things I have to attend to. Don't run off anywhere" Joseph stated as he turned away from me and left, walking up some stairs and closing a door behind himself.

As soon as he left, I laid there for a moment, wanting to be 100% sure that he was gone. After a short while, I fruitlessly shook around, attempting to free myself. I struggled as much as I could, soon just...giving up. It was pointless. "Th-This can't be it....there has to be a way to get out of here...I...I can't give up now" I sniffled "ahhg...what would Robert do?". Just then, my eyes lit up "Robert! Th-That's it!". I shuffled my hands around, trying to get them into my pocket. Ever since Robert first gave me that folding pocket knife, I've kept it with me. Thankfully, I still had the lucky knife. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the blade and unfolded it, turning it around to cut the ropes.

It took a while, but eventually, I was out of my restraints. I jumped up to my feet, getting a little dizzy in doing so. When I regained my composure, I hurried up the stone stairs and tried opening the door, realizing to my dismay that it was locked. I sighed stressfully, knowing now that I'd just have to wait for Joseph to return. Great.

There was a long hallway that I could go down, ...but...something about that just rubbed me the wrong way. Now, ...my only real option was to wait till Joseph came back so I could defend myself with Robert's knife, and then escape.

I sighed and walked back down the stairs, going over to the wall and sitting down against it. I hoped that I wouldn't have to wait for too long... I knew that just sitting in a cold room all by myself would drive me to want to sleep...but doing that would be suicidal; I needed to be awake for when Joseph came back.  

I ran a hand through my hair, just staying quiet and in my thoughts for a long while. After what seemed to be hours, but could've just been 30 minutes, I started to hear footsteps. I clambered up to my feet as quickly as possible and held the knife up in a defensive pose, ready for anything to jump out at me.

I looked over at the hallway, hearing that the sound was coming from there. I kept my position, shivering slightly in fear and worry. Could I really defend myself? I've...never stabbed anyone before. What if they were too fast? W-What if-

The person approaching finally revealed themselves as they stepped out of the darkness of the hallway. My eyes widened and my jaw dropped when I saw that it was Robert. He looked tired and defeated. It was as if he'd been walking for a very long time.

"(d/n)!" He gasped. "R-Robert!!" I returned the gasp as I dropped my knife and ran up to him, giving him a tight hug. Robert wrapped his arms around me, holding me close "(d/n)....where were you?? You've been missing for a whole day...I've been so worried...". I looked up at him with tears in my eyes "I-It's Joseph. H-He brought me here. H-He was going to k-kill me!". Robert looked at me in shock. "Did you know that he was in a cult?! Did you lie to me about your tattoo?" I asked frantically, so many emotions going through my head; I couldn't think straight.

Robert sighed "I-I knew he was in a cult, but...I didn't know that he was..." he shook his head "Are you sure Joseph brought you here?". I nodded "Yes! I-I found a secret book hidden in his yacht...I-It had information about all of this! ...H-He..." I gulped "I know this might be hard to believe...b-but he's the reason the dads in the cul-de-sac are single. I read it with my own eyes...a-and he admitted it to me!".

Robert looked at me in disbelief "Th-That's not true. It...it can't be. Are you saying that he's the reason why everyone in the cul-de-sac divorced? Or...widowed?" he looked at me with an angered, but confused glare "What about...." he sighed "W-What about Marilyn?".

I felt my tears come back as I held him tighter "Yes...I-I am saying that. He admitted it to me!" I sniffled once again "H-He even admitted that...he's the reason Marilyn...d-died" I said quietly, almost choking on my words. Robert didn't know what to believe; I could tell that he didn't know how to feel. "J-Just, ...c'mon. We need to get out of here". I expected him to be furious, but I guess he was still in disbelief. I didn't blame him; this was all so sudden and confusing.

"W-Wait, h-how did you know where to find me? W-What is this place?" I asked hectically. "When I couldn't find you anywhere in the cul-de-sac, I asked around. Craig told me you could be at the park. I searched for hours, until I finally found a secret entrance in the woods. It led me to this...long hallway. I've been walking forever. I don't know how long" Robert responded, before grabbing my hand "C'mon. That doesn't matter. We need to-".

Just then, the sound of the door unlocking made us stiffen in place. It opened and closed, and Joseph walked down the stone stairs "Robert...I was just looking for you. I'm assuming you found the entrance hidden in the woods" he sighed "I've never liked that way...it takes forever to walk from the park all the way down to the cul-de-sac".

"W-We're under the cul-de-sac?" I muttered out, staying close to Robert.

Joseph shrugged "Sort of, but that doesn't really matter now. I have a job to do, and you impure sinners are in my way". Robert clenched his fists "What the hell is going on, Joseph?! Let us go. Now!". Joseph grinned "Oh, Robert... so simple minded. Don't you think that tattoo of yours means something? That was your opportunity to join me. When we broke up, ...I let you live. I thought we were still together on this" he chuckled devilishly "But now that my secret is out, I'll have to remove you both".

Robert stared at Joseph in shock "You fucking bastard. (d/n) said that YOU were the reason behind everyone's divorces... and even behind the death of some spouses. Is that true?". Joseph held his hands behind his back as he nodded "Yes, it was my job. I had to".

"You're the reason my wife is dead!? YOU'RE the reason my life turned into a fucking nightmare?!" Robert asked, pure fury in his eyes. Joseph nodded once again "Yes, Rob. I was pretty sure that I made that quite clear...".

Robert let go of me, pulling out his knife "YOU BASTARD! YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD!". I quickly grabbed Robert, not wanting him to kill Joseph. I didn't want to get into any trouble with the authorities when this was all over... Robert stopped, and Joseph suddenly grabbed the knife from his hands, before shoving me to the ground and pushing Robert against the wall. I groaned in pain as I landed on the hard, cold floor, feeling soreness engulf my arm and side.

I quickly looked up, seeing Joseph pinning Robert against the wall, the blonde cultist holding the knife to his neck. I panicked and quickly got up, throwing myself against Joseph "Leave him alone!!". Joseph hit the ground with a grunt of discomfort. He quickly shoved me off, swinging the knife close to my face. I winced in pain and held my cheek, feeling blood start to drip. As soon as Joseph got up to his feet, Robert grabbed him and harshly shoved him against the stone wall, keeping him there.

I stood up and adjusted myself, tensing up when I saw Joseph grip the knife in his hand "N-NO!". Before I could do anything, Joseph thrust the knife at Robert. Luckily, Robert noticed and let go of Joseph, trying to get out of the way of the knife. In doing so, Robert dodged most of the blade, but was still scraped pretty badly. He groaned in stinging pain, immediately holding his side, which was now bleeding, his jacket and red shirt torn. "R-Robert!" I rushed over to him, but before I could help, Joseph grabbed me and pulled me close, holding the knife up to my neck.

Robert froze, not wanting me to get hurt. "Just accept your fate, Robbie. Neither of you are getting out of here alive" Joseph threatened as he kept his hand over my mouth. Tears ran down my face as I stood as stiff as a statue, knowing that I'd definitely get stabbed if I tried to free myself.

"You two are required for the sacrifice, and I can't let either of you g- AHG!" Joseph let go of me and even dropped the knife when I bit down onto his hand hard. I quickly moved away from him, going over to Robert and tightly hugging him. He whimpered in pain, and I instantly backed off "O-Oh! S-Sorry...are you okay?". He snarled "Far from it".

Joseph growled angrily, swiftly moving to grab the knife he dropped, but before he could, Robert stepped on his hand, pinning it to the ground. Robert grabbed the collar of Joseph's robe and pulled back a fist "This is for my wife, my daughter... and everyone in the cul-de-sac" with that, he punched Joseph in the face, knocking him to the floor and making his nose bleed.

I panted heavily, not realizing I had a shortness of breath until just then. I grabbed both of the knives that were lying on the ground, folding them and putting mine in my pocket. "W-What are we going to do with Joseph...?" Before I could put Robert's knife away, he grabbed it from my hands. 

"If it bleeds...we can kill it" He growled in response, pointing the knife at the bleeding, unconscious blonde. "Robert! Stop!" I said as I grabbed his arm "You can't kill him. We have to call the police". He pulled his arm away from me and grabbed the cultist.

I frowned "Robert! Think about It! Would you be any better than Joseph if you killed him? What would everyone in the cul-de-sac think? What about the kids?".

Robert's angered breathing calmed down as he stared at Joseph. "Can you really kill him? Look at him and tell me that you could actually end his---or anyone else's---life." I spoke softly, wanting to calm him down. Finally, he put the knife in his pocket with a sigh "No...I can't kill him. But I can sure as hell put him in jail. C'mon, we've gotta get out of here before he wakes up". _______________

It took some effort, but when we left the underground, it lead up to the inside of Joseph's home. We kept away from the kids, not wanting them to see what was happening. Robert found Mary and tried to explain everything to her as I called 911.

By the time Joseph woke up, the police were there and ready to take him away. As I explained to the police what happened, Robert was getting bandaged up by EMTs. Before everyone left, the cut on my cheek was looked at and simply cleaned and bandaged.

For the next few days, things were pretty rough in the cul-de-sac. It was obvious that everyone was uncomfortable with the situation. Mary had to look after her kids more often, but of course, I, or one of the older kids in the cul-de-sac would babysit if Mary needed time out of the house, which frankly, was quite often. Her attitude didn't seem to change much. To be honest, she seemed to be a little relieved. But of course, she felt somber for her kids.

I told Amanda through phone what had happened, and she came down to visit for a week, spending time with me, Robert, and the kids of the cul-de-sac.

After that week of stress, confusion, and worry, Robert and I went to the hilltop that looked over the city to relax. We sat next to each other on the back of Robert's pickup truck, staying silent while we just admired the view. Everything that had happened was so shocking...that we hadn't shared a normal conversation that entire week. 

Feeling the need to say something, I finally spoke up "I'm...sorry all of this happened. I feel so awful...I...wish there was something I could've done". Robert sighed quietly and wrapped an arm around me gently, pulling me close "It's alright, (d/n). We've all been through a hard time this past week. But, ...it'll get better. You're the one who taught me that" he told me with a faint smile. I looked up at him and returned the loving look. I leaned close, our noses lightly touching "You're right". With that, I gingerly pressed my lips against his, and we both sat there kissing.

Robert smirked and pulled me up onto his lap, gently holding my waist. I giggled softly and wrapped my arms around his neck, moving in to kiss him again. As we kissed some more, Robert leaned back and laid in the back of his truck, with me still on top of him. As he moved down to start gently biting my neck, Robert ran his fingers through my hair, keeping me close. I smiled with a deep blush, leaning into the kisses and loving nibbles.

Robert sighed quietly and hugged me close "I love you, (d/n)...thank you for saving me...". My blush stayed as I felt warmth in my heart "I love you too, Robert. ...You've saved me too" I muttered quietly as we snuggled close, the both of us eventually dozing off to sleep in the back of the pickup truck. Everything was fine...we were together, and everyone in the cul-de-sac was safe. As the sun set, Robert and I stayed cuddled together, comfortably sleeping in the back of the truck under the stars.

[thehiccupingbanana]

Just Another Day in Paradise

PAIRING: Phan (Phil / Dan) GENRE: fluff WORD COUNT: 1,641 WARNINGS: pre-smut, mentions of sex, but no sex, cute parent!phan stuffs, mpreg  SUMMARY: songfic based off of Just Another Day in Paradise by Phil Vassar AUTHORS NOTE: I thought dan and phil having their own kids instead of adoption would be cool. Also yes this is a country song.

[READ ON AO3]

“I want to play with that!” Olly grabbed the building block set out of Jamie’s hands.

“I had it first!” Jamie stomped her foot.

“I was born first!” Olly stuck out his tongue.

“There enough toys in this house, you don’t need to fight this early in the morning.” Dan could feel a headache coming on and he couldn’t do anything about it.

“Daddy! Someones at the door.” Jamie told him breaking him out of his self pity party. How did he not hear the dog barking. He walks over to the door and the phone starts to ring.

“Just ignore the phone! If it’s important they will call again.” Dan yelled, eying the kitchen table with the too many bills for comfort.

Dan opens the door to see a postal man waiting with a box and a clipboard. “Phil Howell-Lester?” he asked.

“Thats my husband...” Dan replied, signing the clipboard being thrust into his hands. Dan shut the door and turned around to see Olly and Jamie sitting at the table with cereal in front of them, and Phil putting the phone back on the hook.

“Good morning baby.” Phil smiled. “How are you feeling?” Phil walks over to the fridge and takes a swig of the orange juice right out of the bottle. The orange juice must’ve been sour because Phil made a very sour face, but it was worth it because Dan laughed harder than he thought he would that day, Phil couldn’t help smiling at his beautiful husband. Phil walked over to Dan to give him his good morning kiss, “I have an half hour to shower and get the kids to school. I’ll be right out.”

“I just have a little headache, but it will leave, and this came in for you this morning.” Dan handed Phil the box.

Phil gave him a concerned look. “Right. Thank you.” Phil walked down the hall.

“Olly. Jamie. Dirty clothes. Laundry room. Now.” the headache residing but still present. He started putting his and Phil’s clothes into the watching machine. It’s not starting – again. The only to get it to start is to kick the washing machine.

“Dan, don’t kick the washing machine.” Phil walked by buttoning up his shirt. “I will fix it.”

“Along with everything else you promised to fix?” Dan smiled.

“Yes. Kids let’s go!” Phil announced walking closer to Dan putting his hands on Dan’s waist. “I know today may not seem like it’s going well, but around us. We our living our dream. Two beautiful kids of our own, a dog that we’ve been talking about since our flat days in London. This is our paradise baby.” Phil placed at chaste kiss on Dan’s forehead.

“Let’s go Papa.” Olly grabbed Phil’s hand dragging him away from Dan, “You and Dad are going to make us late to school.

“Love you guys.” Dan yelled after Phil and their two kids trailing him. This really was a paradise.

-

“Phil, what time is it? Phil?” Dan opened his eyes. Not seeing a Phil next to he reached for his phone, 10AM. His eyes shot opened as he ran across the hall. Jamie’s not in her room and Olly’s not in his. Dan ran to the kitchen maybe Phil took them in, without letting Dan know. Seeing the box from the previous day sitting on the counter top by a piece of paper.

“The box is yours to open. Wear something nice with it. Meet me at the first restaurant we ate at in London. 6PM. We have the babysitter until 8:30 tonight. So we can eat and the kids will be in bed. I took the kids in to school earlier today, I didn’t want to wake you.” ‘It wasn’t their anniversary,’ Dan thought as he was reading. “You deserve an evening as amazing as you are.” At the bottom of the note it read Phil XOXO. Dan opens the box to see a dark blue tie with white outline hearts on it. Dan remembers why he loves Phil as much as he does.

-

“Just in case, there is an EpiPen in the cupboard. We have already set out Thor’s food. He can sleep wherever he wants.” Dan was going over everything with the babysitter – for the 5th time.

“Dad. Stop. Go meet with Papa and enjoy your date.” Olly came marching up.

“Yeah go Daddy.” Jamie echoed.

Dan looks at his watch eyes widening seeing 5:55 on his watch. “Emergency numbers are on the fridge. I gotta go.” Dan said his goodbyes and rushed to the nearest taxi. Dan knew they didn’t live far from the restaurant, but when the taxi pulled up at 6:02 seeing Phil sitting outside on a bench, he wanted to cry. Phil wanted Dan to relax and not worry about anything, but of course he had to be overbearing with his children. He remembers the day he found out he was a carrier, happened to be the day he was already a month pregnant with Olly. It was impossible to feel comfortable in his own skin, and when he told Phil, Phil showed him everything he loved about Dan with constant praise. Dan felt really happy until he kept getting sick. Phil thought it was just the flu but Dan insisted on going to the doctor. He knew something was different. As Dan was listing off everything he’s been feeling the doctor made notes.

“Mr. Howell-Lester, have you heard of a carrier?” The doctor looked up towards Dan.

“Sure. That’s when males can carry… Wait.” Dan paused.

“I don’t want to tell you anything for sure, but we’re gonna need to do a pee test to see if for sure.” The doctor pointed Dan to the private bathroom. Phil stood there in shock, the words how and what circulating through his mind, not noticing when Dan came back and the doctor was out of the room.

“So Phil, how do you feel about the fact that we possibly created life?” Dan interrupted his thoughts, “Are we ready to be parents?”

“I don’t think anyone are ever ready to be parents, Dan. But I mean-” Phil stopped when the doctor walked in.

“Mr and Mr. Howell-Lester, you’re going to be parents. You are about 5 weeks along, regular check ups are highly recommended.”  

When they got home they celebrated in a way that could’ve put another baby inside Dan if biology worked that way.

Dan was shook out of his thoughts when Phil said “Hey Dan, don’t cry.” The only thing Dan could think to do was put his head on Phil’s shoulder hiding his face in Phil’s neck. “Hey, hey. We’ll just improvise. Like when we had to tell our families about a little Howell-Lester joining the world, how did we even do that. We always have our plan B.” Dan smiled.

-

Babysitter thanked and paid. Over-sized duvet, Domino’s Pizza, Phil with glasses on, and pajama pants with hoodies. Candles lit and anime playing softly in the back ground. Dan and Phil paying more attention to each other than the TV set. After a while Dan rested his hand on Phil’s thigh, he couldn’t help it – Phil wearing glasses was attractive. “Do you wanna take this to the bedroom and make some love that is way overdue.”

He doesn’t have to ask Phil twice. Phil rushes to shove the rest of the pizza in the fridge while Dan is blowing out the candles and grabbing the duvet, both men rushing down to their bedroom like two teenagers. Phil kicks the door closed and pushes Dan down on the bed not even taking a moment to breathe before he’s tackling Dan in kisses. He starts out with playful kisses on his face then he gets down to Dan’s neck and Dan can’t help but wrapping his legs around Phil’s waist.

“You look cute in my old hoodie, but you would look even cuter with it on my floor.” Phil smiled.

Before Dan could get the word dork out of his mouth another sound was in the room. “Papa? Daddy?” Phil immediately plopped off of Dan onto the empty side of the bed. “What’s the matter sweetheart.” Phil asked concern all over his face, seeing his and Dan’s daughter cuddling her teddy bear, Dan no longer in the mood.

“I had a bad dream. Can me and teddy sleep in here tonight?” Jamie asked quietly, almost afraid.

“Jamie come here.” Dan beckoned.

When Jamie crawled inbetween them, Dan couldn’t even be mad. Phil reached over and turned off the lamp and sunk underneath the duvet. “I love you Dan. And I love you Jamie.” Phil smiled poking Jamie’s side making her laugh.

Dan reaches over to grab Phil’s hand giving it a kiss “I love you Phil.” and reaching over to Jamie’s little hand, “I love you Jamie.”

Dan thinks this isn’t how Phil imagined the night to go on, but Dan wouldn’t change it for a thing. They are happy and have anything they could ever ask for. It is his paradise.

-

Of course Jamie and Olly are in an argument over the fact that they both can not be wearing green shirts. The phone is ringing again, Thor isn’t barking. Phil has 4 bowls of with cereal pouring milk into them. Dan walks behind Phil wrapping his arms around Phil swaying them back and forth gentle enough to not spill any milk. Phil sets the milk onto the counter top next to the bowls, and turns around in Dan’s arms. Phil leans up giving Dan a kiss full of love and adoration.

“Gross Papa!” Jamie laughs.

“Ewwwwww.” Olly groans

“Hush you two.” Phil smiles giving Dan one last kiss. “Eat your cereal so we can go.”

Dan hugged into Phil more just enjoying his own personal paradise.

--

[4jimin]

Let The Walls Break Down | 4

CHAPTER IV: Closer | crossposted on ao3 Summary: Resistance never really was their forté. A/N: all i have to say is: i'm sorry i have a lot of reasons to why i took so long to update (i was writing lost stars and another oneshot i didn't post yet) but it still doesn't justify, so for those who were waiting for it, i'm truly sorry and i hope you're still here sdjdkfj anyway i hope you enjoy and i promise i will do my best to not let that happen again

It wasn’t the way Jimin's body was moving under the blinding white lights of the dance studio. It wasn’t the way his sleeveless shirt was sticking to his solid muscles, the wetness of the fabric turning it see-through. No. It wasn’t how he rolled his hips like it was liquid, his thick thighs keeping the pace while his upper body flowed just as the lightest leaf. No, it wasn’t. It fucking wasn’t. It was the sleepiness spur of midnight, his mind too dizzy, too sore from the nonstop practice to be thinking straight. “Jungkook.” Namjoom bumped shoulders with him. “You're standing in the way... If you're tired go sit over there and relax a little, okay? We'll be going home in half an hour anyway.” He numbly nodded thinking maybe he really needed to take a rest. His line of thought was getting a little bit out of control, too much for his dismay. He sat on the corner of the room, away from everyone, a bottle of water in hands and a heart beating on his throat. He drowned it in water, shoving the beats down within each gulp. The hot sweat accumulated on his forehead and arms had already turned cold thanks to the air conditioner – Jungkook attributed to this the fault for his shivers. The room was filled with a loud beat that wasn’t their music anymore since some minutes ago. Almost everyone was seating or laying down trying to catch their breaths – except for Jimin and Hoseok, still up, all the energy from the world spilling from them. It almost didn’t seem like they had just spent the whole day dancing and trying to get their new choreography right. Hoseok was doing the most, randomly dancing to the foreign song blasting out of the speakers, moving his body everywhere, in a lame and forced attempt of sexiness due to the vibe of the song, which was, yeah, now that Jungkook realized, pretty sexual. Jimin was bending his body forward, too much laughing stopping him from standing straight. The sound of his laugh was filling the room, almost overlapping the song, and providing that so usual joy to Jungkook’s chest everytime the sound reached his ears. Hoseok stopped moving, hands on his waist and the brightest smile on his face – but still sweating and panting, obviously tired. He pointed with his chin to where Jimin was standing catching his breath and trying to stop laughing with a hand on his tummy, as if saying 'your turn'. Jungkook could only gulp, because Jimin sexily dancing to a slightly too explicit song was definitely not what he needed in that moment. No one was actually giving them too much of attention so Jungkook thought it would be weird if he was caught intensely staring. He busied himself pulling out the plastic label of the water's bottle on his hands, and heard Jimin's voice over the music. “Aish, hyung, no, no.” He was laughing and giggling all cutely – that way it made everyone’s heart melt. “Come oonnn, Jiminie! Show me those sexy skills you got, dance for hyung!” Jungkook put the bottle aside – the plastic around it now partially hanging off – and searched for his phone on his bag. His father had called him. He should call him back. Yeah, he probably should. In fact, he should call him back in that exact moment. “Aish, okay.” Jimin's little mumble didn’t go unnoticed by the maknae’s ears. Jungkook stood up, hurrying to leave the room so he could find a silent place to talk with his father, but somewhere along the way his body stopped moving, his own eyes betraying him and shooting a glance at Jimin. He was obviously fooling around, but that alone was enough for Jungkook's palms to get extra sweaty and tingly, because what the fuck? He was rolling his hips all the way, more for Hoseok's loud squeaky laughs along with the intense clapping of his hands than anything. Jimin kept pulling out faces that were kinda funny and destroyed the mood, but Jungkook was totally ignoring it, focusing on his body alone, because that was far than enough. Some point along the way, the beat seemed to really start enveloping Jimin's skin, because he was suddenly too serious, body moves too sharp and controlled – too letal, much for Jungkook's despair. His breath hitched when he looked up his face and their gazes met. Was he fucking dancing for him? No way. But Jimin didn’t break eye contact, eyelids partially falling closed in that way he knew it was too fucking tempting. He took his hands to the back of his neck as he tauntingly threw his head backwards, rolling it to the side until it was back staring at Jungkook's eyes, gaze piercing through him. Jungkook thought that was already too much when Jimin suddenly dropped his upper body down, thighs tensing for a second, before he was back up again, arms and hips hitting the beats too pointedly, too perfectly for a improvisation. Jungkook was barely breathing. Hoseok was the one who stole Jimin’s attention, body starting to move with the music again. They got serious about it and Jungkook didn’t know what to do. He should leave. He didn’t know what just happened, but he needed to leave for sure. It was when the music suddenly ended and the place was plunged in silence, heavy breaths being the only thing responsible for filling it. Jungkook held his phone on his hands harder and glanced over at the two men in the middle of the room one last time. It was just curiosity. Hoseok was smiling as always, but Jimin was looking directly at him, the slight hint of a smirk playing on his lips. He lifted his head up a bit, hands resting on his hips as he teasingly smiled. “Like what you see?” Jungkook's heart fastened its pace so violently and in such a short period of time his vision blurred. Hoseok's turned his head to him, still smiling innocently and probably completely oblivious to what was happening there. “I... You–“ he weirdly muttered, cheeks blushing and voice failing, “You were cool.” He gulped changing his focus to Hoseok so he wouldn’t feel on the verge of exploding. “The dance. It was cool.” Hoseok smiled more widely than before and Jungkook almost felt guilty – his eyes didn’t focus on him even once. “Anyway, ahm... I gotta... call my father, so, mhm, yeah.” He left the room without having the guts to meet Jimin's eyes again.

•••

Jimin knew more ways to have a crush than to actually deal with one. He had always been the person to fall for the small things. He was a hopeless lover, he could do nothing about it. He was in love with many things – Namjoon's dimples, Taehyung's eyes, Hoseok's smile, Seokjin's laugh, Yoongi's little nose –, not to mention other things unrelated to his members. But Jungkook... It was fucking crazy, to begin with. Jungkook was his dongsaeng, Jimin had always believed his love for him was old-brotherly – and the fucked up thing was, it really was old-brotherly, it really used to be, but... But what? He didn’t know and it was driving him crazy, because that shitty feeling had already caused problems enough, for god's sake. It was past the time for him to get his shit together and simply get over it, but it always seemed like there was something holding him back every damn time he decided to let go. Maybe it was his wishful mind making things up to delay his heartbreak, but Jimin always noticed – or he think he noticed – the sublte (sometimes not so sublte) glances Jungkook directed at him, the way he cleaned his hands on the back of his pants every time Jimin approached him – or even, how one night his eyes clearly landed on Jimin's lips, seeming to drift away from the conversation for a second or two. Jimin knew all of this could mean many things, none of them being what he wanted – he could have had a strand of hair sticking on his lips, maybe. He knew it all, but his mind kept creating nonexistent things to fill his need for correspondent love. Yeah, it was love and fuck that. He knew it, because different from with the other members, Jimin was in love with every single thing about Jeon Jungkook. His flaws. He was in love with his flaws, for fuck's sake. He wasn’t in love with anyone's flaws – not even Taehyung’s, not even his owns. He sighed loudly, his head falling from the couch while he watched a shitty anime on tv. “Your neck will hurt later if you keep doing this.” Hoseok warned walking past him. “I don’t care.” “Aish, stop being a brat and straighten your back.” He slapped Jimin's legs. “I'm the one you look for later with puppy eyes asking for massages.” Jimin grinned. “You can’t say no to my puppy eyes.” “I'll start to learn to, you cocky asshole.” He smiled back and Jimin straightened his back, returning his attention to the television, until Seokjin parked in front of it, hands on waist and looking pretty pissed. He sat straight on the couch to listen the scold he knew it was to come. “What did I say about the bathroom, Park Jimin?!” Jimin lowered his eyes, little guilty remembering him his forgotten duty, “For god's sake! I told you, bathroom is yours and Jungkook's responsability, didn’t I? It's not because we have a cleaning lady coming every week we need to leave the house this disgusting mess for her to do all the work!” “I'm sorry, hyung...” he sincerely apologized. “I don’t want apologies, I want you and Jeon Jungkook cleaning that bathroom until it's shining! Now!” Jin turned off the television and pointed for Jimin to leave with his finger. And he left, head down and feeling slightly embarrassed. He did nothing all morning, he could have quickly cleaned the bathroom, but he kept procrastinating until he forgot it. Jungkook was already there, sitting down, a sponge in hands rubbing the tiles of the wall. He heard Jimin's footsteps and looked back, smiling understandingly. Jimin shifted his gaze away, because his smile did funny things to his stomach. “Jin-hyung can be pretty serious when he wants to, right?” Jungkook started, returning his attention to his duty. “Yeah... What were you doing when he appeared?” Jimin took a sponge for himself to clean the sink. “Playing fallout. He was pretty pissed.” Jungkook giggled. “Oh, and toilet's yours.” “Jungkookie!” Jimin whined, turning his head to look at him in deblief. “No!” “You should've been faster to call dibs.” Jungkook laughed. “I hate dibs.” He pouted. “And I hate you.” “Ahhh, don’t be like that...” Jungkook teased, a smile sounding on his voice, “You know I'm your favorite dongsaeng.” “You're my only dongsaeng.” “Shhh...” Jimin laughed. He really hated him. “You're a brat, Jeon Jungkook.” “Hyung loves me anyway...” He singsonged. Jimin shook his head laughing. A brat. He was in love with a brat. Unbelievable. Time went by and silence dominated the place as they kept rubbing and cleaning. Jimin was already feeling bored and his fingers were starting to get wrinkled from the water, when, with no previous warning, a cold hand was placed on the inner part of his warm – bare – thigh, making him shudder, caging his breath inside his lungs. He looked down – a gulp in his throat – just to find a pair of innocent eyes staring back at him – completely unaware of the effect his touch had on Jimin's body. “Hyung, can you pass me the disinfectant?” But his hands remained there, and Jimin suddenly didn’t know how to speak. “Oh, it's so warm here.” Jungkook closed his eyes, taking his other hand to rest on the back of Jimin's knees. “Jungkook–“ Jimin gasped, because, one: his hands were pretty cold, and well, the other reason he was trying to ignore. “My hands are cold, hyung.” He frowned whining. “Yeah, I know that.” “Oh.” The younger snapped his eyes open, taking his hands off Jimin's skin, “Sorry.” Jimin swallowed the tip of disappointment that surged on his gut. “Sure. Disinfectant, right?” He reached for the bottle on his right. “Here.” “Thanks.” And there was the silence again. But this time it was awkward. Jimin finished with the sink and took a deep breath, knowing the toilet was next. Disgusting. He crouched down by Jungkook's side, who was almost finished with the bottom tiles, and plunged the sponge into the foam bucket. Jungkook grabbeb his wrist before he could take it out. “Oh, no, hyung, I was joking. I'll take the toilet.” “No, it's o–“ “Hyung.” Jimin was trying to avoid eye contact, but Jungkook was searching for his eyes so he gave in, “It's okay.” When did his eyes become so warm? Jimin sighed, shifting his gaze away. His heart was racing stupidly. “Okay.” He murmured, pulling his hand out of the bucket and his wrist out of Jungkook’s hold. It was silent for a second until Jungkook leaned in closer, startling Jimin. He turned to face him, eyes slightly wide and a question hanging on his lips. What are you doing? Jungkook's eyes were glued to his jawline and as Jimin's breath got increasingly shorter, Jungkook brought his hand to the side of the older's neck. “You...” he murmured while brushing his thumb over it. “There's soap on your neck.” Jimin felt the cold foam spreading on his skin until Jungkook completely wiped it. “T-thanks.” He managed out, wondering why Jungkook was still with his hand on his neck. Their eyes met and Jimin fisted the fabric of his shorts a little, the distance between their faces being the only thing he was thinking about. “Hyung, I–“ “Are you two going to take the whole day to finish this or what?!” Seokjin's loud voice was heard from the hall. Jimin jumped on his feet so fast he almost slipped on the partially soapy floor. His heart was thunder on his chest, the welcomed air on his lungs showing he was unconsciously holding back his breath for god knows how long. Jin appeared by the doorframe while Jimin was still trying to figure out how to act. But, thank god, he didn’t give a shit to them, just inspectioned their job with a nod. “Okay, that's fine, just finish the tiles and the floor, so you can come eatn. Lunch's already ready.” “And the toilet?” Jimin heard Jungkook asking. How was he so calm? “Nah, it's okay. Just throw disinfectant in it and press the flush. Be quick, we're waiting for you to eat.” He was gone just as fast as he came, leaving the two of them alone to deal with the weird atmosphere that settled in there – which they didn’t, just tried finishing their duties as fast as possible, so they could go away from each other and pretend nothing unusual happened at all. Just another ordinary day.

•••

It was under the soft fabric of his blankets, air beginning to get stuffy and thick from too little oxygen to breath inside his made up shelter, that Jungkook had his first anxiety attack after a long time. His mind was dizzy, and he was miserably failing at the only function he needed to focus on in that moment: breath. Exhale and inhale. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do it, and his throat was closing and he was panicking. He pushed the duvet off his head and even when the cool air of the room hit his face – he still couldn’t breath it in. He wanted to cry, but the tears were stuck, making his nose tingle and then burn, until he had no other option apart from laying on bed and waiting either for death or for his mind to pass out. He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on the soft sheets around his body, on how the sensation on his skin was refreshing, and on how the hum of the air conditioner was far more welcoming than the idle buzz inside his ears. Eventually, oxygen naturally invaded his lungs without warning, so smoothly he was scared to stop doing it again if he got too focused on it. So he just redirected his attention to the cozy sound of the ac filling the room. He was alone, Namjoon wasn’t there. No one was in the house, in fact. He was alone. But it was okay. He was going to be okay. His grandmother once told him if he kept repeating a lie for too many times, it'd might turn true. In the time, it had been a warning to stop him from lying little lies, but now it was just an encouragement for him to get through difficult times. It's okay. You’re going to be okay.

He woke up to the blinding light of early morning invading the windows. His eyes were blurry and gross, so he rubbed it to see better, the sleepy state of his mind confusing him about where exactly he was. When Namjoon's silhouette took in his sight on the other bed, he let his head fall back on the pillow. He was feeling drained and he had barely woken up. His phone buzzed on the nightstand, so he took it in his hands. Full of useless notifications. Except from one. He clicked on it, a lazy smile settling on his lips for the next five minutes as he stared at Jimin's latest selfie on twitter. He was so gorgeous. Jungkook sighed, a tiny hint of exasperation hidden in the way he closed his eyes and licked his mouth. Why him of all people? He was always so sure he liked girls, why was that happening to him? It was so frustrating. As his thoughts floated on his mind, memories of the last night flashed quickly before his eyes before he blew them away. He didn’t want to remember. It was so embarrassing – even more considering it had almost a year he didn’t have a crisis like that. Stupid. All due to a sexually frustrated crush. Because that's what it was, in the worst of cases. A sexually frustrated crush. It couldn’t be any more than that. He wasn’t going to let it be. Jungkook knew it was okay, and even normal. He knew it all – he and Jimin talked, he had read things and had even heard Namjoon talking about it one day. It was okay for people from the same sex to love each other. It was normal. But for other people. Not for him. For him, loving Jimin was his mother's disappointed eyes, his father's harsh words, his grandpa's disgusted face and his grandma's promises of praying for the lord to save him. It was his fans heartbreak, his members dream being shoved into a trashcan. All of that and more. He couldn’t risk it. Jungkook was still laying in bed when the door softly opened some minutes later – one arm resting above his eyes to block the sunlight and the other on his stomach, which instantly reacted the moment he saw Jimin's sleepy face by the door. Jimin peaked inside the bedroom and assumed everyone was still sleeping, because he was about to close the door when Jungkook's hoarse voice resounded in the place. “Hyung.” Jimin put his head back in again, wondering if he was hearing things. Jungkook still seemed asleep. “Hyung.” He called again, voice scratching his dry throat. He had a bad morning taste in his mouth, so he completely regretted calling Jimin the second he started walking till him. Now he was going to smell Jungkook's terrible breath and would be disgusted by him. The smaller boy crouched by his side and Jungkook's futile worries were completely washed away. Jimin's hand went to his hair, and it felt almost as refreshing as cold water soaking his scalp during a shower after an unbearable hot day. Jungkook allowed himself to relax, closing his eyes for a moment too long to drown in Jimin's touch. “I thought you were sleeping.” Jimin's low whisper forced him to lazily open his eyes. His face was such a wonderful thing to see first in the day. “I came to see if anyone was awake, so I could do breakfast for more than one person only.” Jungkook slowly nodded, partially stunned by the sight before him, eyes dazed like it was a dream. He was so beautiful. “You're still sleeping, it seems.” He wasn’t. He was so fully awake. Jimin giggled and Jungkook's heart skipped a beat. He wanted to hear it one more time. “Hyung...” he called again, even though Jimin was right in front of him. “What is it?” the older rested his chin on the border of the bed, staring at Jungkook’s eyes just a few inches from his, hand's still on the younger’s hair, caressing it softly and sweetly. Jungkook's throat closed and he was scared to break in front of Jimin. He wanted to take his hands on his, kiss his knucles and ask him to lay by his side. He wanted to intertwine their fingers and ask him to sing him to sleep. He wanted to, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t and it fucking hurt. “I–“ he started, voice choked. But Jimin was mistaking his sadness with sleepiness. He didn’t know if that relieved or depressed him. “Can we... Can we spend some time together today?” Jimin's brows briefly furrowed, lips falling open in a silent coo, unaware of the situation he was in. “Of course we can. But why all of a sudden, though?” “I'm... I’m homesick.” Jungkook lied, watching the expression in Jimin's eyes change. “Are you okay?” he slid his hand down to caress Jungkook’s temple with his thumb, worry hanging from his words. Jungkook closed his eyes again, fighting the urge to cry. “Yeah, just...” he slid his eyelids up, “Stay with me today.” Jimin smiled and, for a moment, it was like there was no evil in the world. “Of course I will.” Jungkook nodded, a weak 'okay' escaping his lips. Jimin turned around, still crouched down, and then looked at him over his shoulders. “Come on. Hop up.” Jungkook didn’t fight when a sweet smile bloomed on his lips. “What?” he asked, sadness being replaced for a fluttering heart. “Hop up. I'll carry the sleepy baby to the kitchen. We need to be together today, right?” Jimin giggled and Jungkook was far more than pleased, “Come on.” “Can you even handle my weight?” he teased. Jimin placed a hand on his chest, mouth hanging open in a dramatic offended expression while looking at Jungkook with fake disbelief. He got up on his feet. “Oh brat, you'll swallow those words up.” He wrapped his arms around Jungkook’s back and picked him up. “Hyung!” Jungkook ridiculously squeaked in surprise, heart beating like crazy, scared to fall in the ground but already falling – in a completely different context. “Hyung, put me down!” he complained even though his arms were already around Jimin's neck. Jimin just adjusted the younger's body better on his arms and smiled. “Enjoy the ride, bride.” Jungkook pinched his shoulder, but buried his face in the crook of his neck anyway. He closed his eyes and resisted with all the strength of his body to not place gentle kisses all over it. He failed, giving in to the will one time only, his lips sticking to Jimin's skin like honey – lasting one moment too long and one moment too short. Neither of them uttered a word about it – the butterflies in their stomachs speaking a lot more than necessary, but never reaching each other’s ears.

•••

By spending time with each other, Jungkook didn’t mean losing the entire afternoon on a practice room working on a choreography a little bit too intense to catch on, but he guessed that was what life had for him. They remained there though, after everyone left, Jimin saying he wanted to train his vocals and Jungkook just following him around everywhere and agreeing with everything he wanted to do. That definitely wasn’t what he had planned on his head when he asked Jimin to be with him that day, but to be completely honest, he was far more love struck than he ever thought he would be. And it was okay, because it wasn’t romantically speaking (or so he told himself). It was a too-stunned-and-too-admired-to-form-a-word type of love struck. His eyes were glued on Jimin's focused features, unable to swerve away even for a second. Because Jimin was singing. Acapella. And it was simultaneously the most beautiful thing Jungkook had ever seen and heard his entire life. Jimin had his eyelids tightly pressed against his lower eyelashes, getting his brows to slightly furrow as he hit a high note that bristled Jungkook's nape hair. It was when he opened his eyes that Jungkook realized he was holding back his breath. He slowly sucked in a good amount of oxygen to his lungs, feeling refreshed but still in trance. He watched as Jimin took his hand to the back of his neck and pressed the muscle – probably sore from too much exercise –, a slight hint of pain hidden in the way he pressed his lips together and failed to sing the next note. The melody stopped flowing out of his mouth to be replaced for a little whine and a frown on his face. “God, it hurts.” Jungkook almost instantly double tapped the ground in front of him. “C'mere.” His muscles were just as sore, but he'd do anything to erase that expression of pain from Jimin's face. “Let me massage it for you.” His hyung crawled till him without resistance, accepting Jungkook’s offer with pleasure. He settled his body between Jungkook's legs, his back to the younger's chest, and lowered his head, waiting for Jungkook's hands to do the job. Jimin was wearing a tank top, so Jungkook had to deeply breath before his fingertips met the skin of Jimin's nape. He pressured the sore spots with just the right amount of force, completely cupping the neck with both hands to make it feel better for Jimin. He slided his hands to the smaller boy's shoulders, pressuring the muscles with his palm and thumb, Jimin's tiny moans reassuring him he was doing right. “Mhmmm...” Jimin let out and Jungkook was forced to close his eyes in order to maintain his self control. He continued to squeeze Jimin's shoulders and neck with eyes closed, trying not to focus on the little whimpers coming out of the older's lips, pretending to not notice the droplets of sweat forming on his own nape. He was doing fine, until Jimin roughly grabbed his thighs with both hands and loudly moaned, Jungkook's breath hitching. “Oh, right there, Jungkookie, right the– God, yes...” Jungkook stopped moving to breath, Jimin's palms still pressed down on top of his painful thigh muscles. He closed and opened his eyes a few times before bringing his fingers to move again, Jimin's warm skin feeling so soft against his touch. He had such a nice skin. In that moment it was creamy and a little bit shiny from sweat but Jungkook didn’t care. He straightened his back – increasing the height between them even while sitting –, and somehow it made him feel a little confident, to see a small Jimin melting under his touch. “Mmm– God, this feels so good–” It was in a dizzy spur of lust and desire that Jungkook leaned in closer, placing an open mouthed kiss on the back of Jimin's neck. He slightly sucked it, his stomach twirling and his heart thundering, loving to hear the way Jimin gasped midway his sentence and held on Jungkook’s thigh so hard he dugged his nails on the flesh. Jungkook didn’t care, intoxicated by the feeling. He slided his hands to Jimin's biceps and kept massaging it, mouth travelling to the skin behind Jimin's ear. He tasted like after training salty sweat and Jungkook was addicted. He swiped his tongue over Jimin's ear lobe, catching it on his lips a second later, hearing the older loudly sucking the air through his mouth, hands clutching so tight on Jungkook’s leg it made him whimper, voice vibrating against Jimin's skin. Jungkook didn’t know what had got into him, but he decided he didn’t want to take the time to find out, tracing a path of kisses on Jimin's neck instead, hands pressuring his muscles roughly now – both stimulus seeming to be too much for the boy to take it, having turn into a moaning mess already. “Mmmm... Jungkook-ah...” Jungkook clutched Jimin's arms hard, the sound of his voice crying his name making his cock twitch and his heart burst. His eyes were tightly closed as he tried to easy his unsteady breath – hotly hitting on Jimin's now wet skin and making him shiver. The pause in the moment made Jungkook hesitate, fear menacing to invade his empty mind – but it only needed for Jimin to drag his hands up his thighs for him to be back at it again. He brought his right hand up Jimin's shoulder, fingers sliding beneath the fabric of his shirt and swiping it down, exposing this shoulder. There was something so sexual about that sight that Jungkook couldn’t repress the needy moan escaping his mouth in response. His lips found Jimin's shoulder at the same time his arms found his waist, pulling him closer, the end of his back clashing against Jungkook’s cock and causing the friction he was so much earning for. Jungkook tightened his thighs by the sides of Jimin's body in instinct, wanting the contact to be bigger. It was when Jimin pulled away and Jungkook almost instantly felt terror settling inside him. But just as fast as he was gone he was back, straddling Jungkook's body with both his thighs and sitting on his lap, Jungkook's mind going instantly blank, a groan escaping both their lips. He held on Jimin's waist and pressed him down, their erections briefly touching, too many clothes between them. Jimin harshly placed his elbows on the wall behind them by both sides of Jungkook’s head, their faces so close he could feel their noses brushing. He was panting, hot breath invading Jungkook's mouth, and a look on his eyes that made him gulp in antecipation, heart beating too fast for his own good. “I swear to god...” Jimin started low, voice hoarse and iris so dark Jungkook swore they were black, “You're going to be the fucking death of me.” Jungkook closed his eyes, ready to feel the most perfect pair of lips against his mouth, – but instead he felt a trace of cold air spreading on his skin where the missing warmth of Jimin’s body was a second before, his weight leaving his lap in a heartbeat. He snapped his eyes open in confusion just to find a nervous Jimin fixing his shirt and signalling for him to get up – when Yoongi entered the room and Jungkook was terrified, pulling his knees up to hide his too much apparent hardness. “Hey kids. I brought food.” He showed the plastic bag on his hands, walking past them to put it on the table in the corner of the room. “Hi hyung. Ahm...” Jimin started while fixing his sweatpants, thankfully large enough to hide any sign of what was happening there an instant before. “Weren’t you supposed to be home?” “Me?” Yoongi looked at them, but Jungkook was too scared to look back, “No, why? I was working on the mixtape at the recording room.” “I see...” Jimin nodded and the room was  oddly silent for a moment. Jungkook wanted to disappear. He was feeling guilty and dirty, as if he had cheated on the most important moral principle of his life, when in fact he had just – partially – made out Jimin. God. He had partially made out with Jimin. “Come eat before it gets cold.” “Actually, ahn...” Jungkook jumped on his feet, avoiding both gazes on him and hurriedly picking up his things from the ground, “I have a really important thing to do right now and I can’t be late, I'm sorry, hyung. Thanks for the food anyway.” Yoongi turned around to pick Jungkook's portion so he'd at least take it with him, but when he looked back a second later the younger was already gone, having left behind just the loud sound of the door closing shut and a confused Yoongi with a package of hot yakisoba in hands.

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Picnic table cloth-inspired dye job is wild and wonderful

Hair colorist Ursula Goff created a nearly spot on rendition of plaid fabric on one of her clients’ hair. (Photo: Instagram/Ursula Goff)

If you find yourself scrolling through social media for hair color inspiration, you’ve probably come across Ursula Goff‘s work. The Kansas-based colorist is not the type of stylist who posts boring photos of a blond going blonder, but instead, everything from plaid to crystal-colored hair looks.

She recently shared a photo on Instagram of one of her clients rocking custom clip-in extensions inspired by a gingham picnic table cloth. “This is awesome,” one person shared under her vibrant photo. “So glad it’s getting shared and I came across it, freaking stunning.”

Hey internet, I see you seeing me. I’m inspired by other stuff, too. Like…gingham picnic table fabric. This was for a project I did with @matrix and their Color Sync Vinyls. Don’t worry, it’s painted on a clip in extension, so she can make sure it looks perfect every time. #matrixbrandpartner #redhair #ginghamhair #textilehair #plaidhair #matrix #colorsyncvinyls #modernsalon #beautylaunchpad #behindthechair #americansalon

A post shared by Ursula Goff (@uggoff) on Nov 26, 2017 at 12:00pm PST

The 35-year-old licensed colorist isn’t new to adding amazing hues to hair. In fact, Goff tells Yahoo Lifestyle that she has been coloring her and her friends’ hair since the age of 13. Years later, she decided to take her talents to the next level. She explains, “I attended a community college cosmetology program after dropping out of art school, so I have a strong art and painting background.”

After browsing through all the out-of-the-box color sessions Goff shares on her Instagram feed, one can’t help but wonder where she draws inspiration from. “Sometimes I just see a pretty photo or take a photo of something pretty and set it aside for later,” she says. “Other times, while I am consulting with clients, we come across inspiration photos and concepts while we work out what they want. Then, we work from there. Sometimes it’s something that’s more in my head than anything, and I might do a quick sketch to demonstrate my idea.”

Melissa already had a bit of a red and blonde balayaged ombre, and wanted a dusty rosy color. Her blonde was pretty brassy (second photo), so I mixed equal parts @schwarzkopfusa Blondme toners in Lilac and Strawberry (generously provided by Schwarzkopf) and just worked that through all over for this fabulous rosè tone. I am trying to get better at subtlety because it’s definitely not my strong suit, so I am pleased that I was able to exercise some restraint here! #stronglyblonded #schwarzkopfusa #rosegoldhair #rosegold #rosé #peachhair #beautylaunchpad

A post shared by Ursula Goff (@uggoff) on Nov 12, 2017 at 3:18pm PST

Goff does admit to having her share of hair-color mishaps in the past, especially early on in her career. Now, she’s a pro and can easily fix subtle mistakes or improvise. “I’ve also gotten good at turning mistakes into new ideas, so I run with that a lot too,” she says.

On average, most of her clients that require double or triple process coloring on their hair will sit for about 4-6 hours, but more detailed projects can take up to 10 hours for maximum results, allowing Goff to usually only take one color client a day.

“Almost all of my clients tell me to do whatever I want,” Goff says. “Occasionally, they might say something like, ‘I’ve been liking pink lately, so just make sure there’s some pink in it’, or something along those lines. But for the most part, I get a lot of creative freedom to do whatever. I do talk with my clients to make sure they’re on board with whatever I’m thinking, and if they have reservations, I might modify the design or concept until they are confident with it. But for the most part, they really trust me, and I appreciate that so much.”

Goff’s work has not come without criticism, and she shared that other colorists will often say her work looks like too much work. However, she doesn’t think of it this way and finds the initial drawing and painting process quite pleasurable. “When it’s done, it’s done,” she says. “I approach hair the same way. Yes, it can take time and work, but I enjoy the process, as it is just as satisfying as the outcome.”

We couldn’t help but ask what Goff is thinking to try next, and she told us that she’s really been into the lovely golds, oranges, teals, and blues seen in Yellowstone hot springs. “I have some ideas regarding light,” she says. “I’ve been playing around with prism concepts lately, but I really want to expand on that and try to incorporate other ways that we perceive light, especially with regards to shape and focal points. I know that sounds very vague, but you’ll know what I mean once you see it.”

While we have to wait to see what masterpiece Goff will come up with next, sit back and prepare to be amazed by some of the most stunning looks she’s already created so far.

Crystallized color!!! I feel pretty good about this color today. I was inspired by how color lays on crystals and changes tone and directionality on each side. So I played around with a new technique where I applied color both horizontally and vertically in panels on my gorgeous model Rachel @puglieserachel. I did this using @matrix’s new vivids line, Socolor Cult, to be released in June 2018. Gotta say, I’m a fan…and I loved the work everyone else did with them, too! #matrix #socolorcult #crystalcolor #naturecolor #naturehair #rainbowhair #texturewithcolor #iridescenthair #prismhair #opalhair #holographichair #behindthechair #beautylaunchpad #americansalon #modernsalon

A post shared by Ursula Goff (@uggoff) on Nov 7, 2017 at 5:56pm PST

I've been looking for an excuse to do this particular color combo ever since I found that photo of a black opal almost a year ago. My Kandinsky hair piece provided a great opportunity after we colored Katie's hair Cobalt! It also inspired the fiery roots mixed with indigo hair I did on myself earlier this summer. #blackopal #kandinsky #bluehair #geology #geologyhair #naturehair #modernsalon #beautylaunchpad #behindthechair #americansalon

A post shared by Ursula Goff (@uggoff) on Oct 24, 2017 at 9:17am PDT

PRISMS ERRYWHURRR. Inspired by the work of @kristinacheeseman, who is fanfuckintastic and I love her #prismhair #rainbowhair #sciencehair #naturehair #prisms #rainbows #beautylaunchpad #modernsalon #behindthechair #americansalon

A post shared by Ursula Goff (@uggoff) on Oct 23, 2017 at 10:55am PDT

The falliest of fall hair #autumnhair #pumpkinspicehair #orangehair #fallhair #americansalon #beautylaunchpad #behindthechair #modernsalon

A post shared by Ursula Goff (@uggoff) on Oct 21, 2017 at 10:23am PDT

Hot springs…This was another super experimental collaboration with my artist client Sadie @queenofcolorartist. And once again, we ended up so crazy ecstatic with it. My eyeballs are SO happy when I look at these colors together. I'm so dead. #hotsprings #yellowstone #rainbowhair #naturehair #fallhair #autumnhair #zombiesnott #lanza #joico #pravana #specialefeects #beautylaunchpad #behindthechair #modernsalon #americansalon

A post shared by Ursula Goff (@uggoff) on Sep 17, 2017 at 10:02pm PDT

Read more from Yahoo Lifestyle:

Pharrell’s new hair color has pumpkin-spice vibes

Kim Kardashian, Mel B, and more stars rocking fall’s shimmery silver hair color trend

‘Purple Unicorn’ Justine Skye Is the Beauty Chameleon You Need to Know Right Now

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