#i live in a triangle and they do this every mother fucking weekend and I hope they all piss and shit their pants

[catgirlwarrior]

I wanna turn a firehose on and douse my neighbors parties. Like I'm sorry I'm so so sorry but if I can't hear my own blasting headphones in my house and your music is shaking my floor and you live 3 blocks away from me across a fucking creek you deserve to have everything you're enjoying rn ruined i think

[sugamamacustard]

Two for One Special!

Pairing:  Alpha! Tendo Satori x Omega! Reader X Alpha! Nishinoya Yu (Poly!) 

Genre: Fluff

Request: Heyo! :3 could I request a omega!reader where they’re kinda in a love triangle between two alphas of your choice? But then they kinda compromise and end up being in a poly relationship? Fluffy or not is up to you! -Mochi

Summary: You weren’t even a manager. You were a medic for the Nekoma team and yet, you still caught they of not one, but two, powerhouse alphas. What could go wrong, right?

Author’s Note: This is literally the rarest rare pair to ever pair but I think they’d make a cute couple??? Like, their energy just looks like it would be compatible. idk, i just want a fic with these two,  🥺  Also- hi Mochi! :DDDD Also also- I thinking of changing my banners, any idea on what kind of aesthetic I should change them too? Or like a new website to make them on? Idk anymore.

Requests: Open!

Satori Tendo & Yu Nishinoya

➵  “Tetsuro Kuroo!” 

➵  You weren’t necessarily scary in the grand scheme of things, but when you were armed with not only a med pack, but a rock fucking hard ice pack?

➵ Terrifying. 

➵ The head alpha was shivering just thinking about it. 

➵ They were at a training camp where every team in their precinct was forced to go, and while they were in the middle of a practice match against Fukorodani, Kuroo had landed on his ankle wrong. 

➵ You were the resident medic-- as one of your relatives was a paramedic and you were well versed in the world of medical needs. 

➵ So you were the nurse for Nekoma, and apparently every other volleyball player. 

➵ You didn’t mind though. 

➵ You were happy to help. Even if sometimes, you felt the injuries were a little... overplayed. 

➵ You checked over Kuroo’s ankle quickly, placing the ice pack against it and helping him off the court. He’d be fine, but better to be safe rather than sorry. 

➵ He’d rest it for the rest of the game and be as good as new. 

➵ You continued explaining why he needed to rest, unaware of the eyes watching you.

➵ “Tanaka, we’re bros, right?”

➵ Looking over, Tanaka raised a brow at Noya. “Last, I checked, yeah?”

➵ “Good, good. Can you do me a favour?” Noya now looked up to him, eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. 

➵ “I...can? Depends on what it is-”

➵ “Punch me in the face.”

➵ “What-”

➵ “Please. Tanaka. Your my bro, Ryu. Punch me in the face.” 

➵ At this point, even Daichi was looking to Nishinoya, raising a brow. 

➵ “You know, getting Kiyoko’s-”

➵ “Daichi, it’s not Kiyoko anymore.” Noya clasped his hands, holding them up to his cheeks as he fluttered in a weird, love induced fluke. “Have you seen Nekoma’s medic?”

➵ There was a moment of- what the fuck that rushed over the court, making Daichi face-palm.

➵ Tanaka was busy cheering that he had Kiyoko to himself, but Noya didn’t care. 

➵ He just needed to get you over here some how. 

➵ “A shrimp like you? Thinking you have a chance?” The tall middle blocker of Shiritorizawa sneered. 

➵ Tendo had been watching you as well, eyes careful and locked on. 

➵ “What’s it to you?” The libero growled, making Tendo snort a laugh. 

➵ “I mean, just looking at the grand scheme of things, do you even stand a chance?” It was mean, yes, but Tendo wasn’t a nice person. 

➵ The libero winced. “Of course I do. I’m not watching her like some sort of stalker.” 

➵ Shit. That one hurt. Tendo let out a warning growl, this time actively being aggressive towards the much shorter alpha. He didn’t back down, growling right back.

➵ No one knew what to do except watch. If they interfered now, that could result in a full blown pack fight. Karasuno vs. Shiritorizawa would turn very ugly, very quickly. 

➵ “Hey! If you two knotheads are done stinking up the gym, why don’t you continue on with your game, huh? Other teams need the court.” 

➵ All heads snapped to you, silently praying for your, probably now limited, life. 

➵ You stood with your hands on your hips, one jutted out. You looked bored with having to yell at the alphas, but knew it had to be done. Like a tired mother. 

➵ To everyone’s shock, both backed down, grumbling under their breath as the next set was set back up. 

➵ You knew this was far from over, but shook your head at the small bit of peace you had for the moment.

➵ Even if you had to hit Kuroo when he started cackling.

___

➵ You knew the peace wouldn’t last long. The minute the game was done and you were alone filling water bottles, the two were hounding you.

➵ Asking you questions about your life at Nekoma, you, your life, everything. 

➵ You answered them, occasionally asking some back, but it was obvious you were focused on the water bottles. 

➵ Then the fated question came. 

➵ “Can I get your number?” “Wait-no, me too!”

➵ You rolled your eyes, giving them the digits before turning and leaving. 

➵ That was probably your first mistake

➵ You were constantly bombarded with texts to the point you just made a group chat with the two of them  and let them figure out their own rivalry. 

➵ That turned against you as well. 

➵ Since now, they weren’t fighting, they were teaming up against you.

➵ “I’ll beat up those deadbeats if you need me too.” “Without me? For shame, Noya.”

➵ “Paradise, you are literally the most gorgeous thing I’ve seen.” “Step on us.”

➵ “Okay, but like, what if- hear me out- we stole the horses from Shiritorizawa, and totally went princess bride on you?” “Well guess what buddy boy. I got an extra uniform to sneak you in and I know the horses by name.”

➵ Yeah. You didn’t know what was worse. Having two alphas pinning after you or having both show up on horses, dressed in the most ridiculous outfits you’ve ever seen.

➵ As annoying as they were though, you grew closer with them. 

➵ You all would take turns travelling to the others during the weekends, grabbing lunch, coffee, whatever was suitable for the time you guys met.

➵ While you didn’t pursue a relationship immediately, by the time you all were in University, you were mated to them and happy. 

➵ You were making plans to live in Paris, where Satori could pursue a career in chocolate, Yuu was finishing up a photography degree where he would also get a good lift off in Paris and you were finishing your residency at a nearby hospital, planning a wedding in your free time (With the boys helping every step of the way)

➵  Life was good, and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

➵ “Hey, if Tanaka actually punched me, would you have helped me?”

➵ “I would’ve laughed at you and threw an ice pack at you.” 

➵ “Mean, baby, so mean.” 

➵ “Aw- I totally could’ve gotten Ushiwaka to hit me back then. Smart thinking, Yuu.”

➵ “Please don’t feed his ego.”

➵ “EGO IS ALREADY FED BABY-”

[chrisevansszn]

THE BERMUDA TRIANGLE 🔺️🔺️🔺️ PT 6

Word Count 1.3k

“Noah text me and I thought it was you. I replied that I want the baby to have brown hair and blue eyes. Noah has black hair and brown eyes. I fucked up bad. He’s so pissed. He told me to get home now.”

“Fuck. Shit. Do you want me to come with you?”

“Hell no. Are you crazy? I’m a dead woman.”

“Don’t talk like that. If he does anything to you. Call me. I will drop everything for you.”

You give Chris you address and head out the door to face Noah. This is probably the last day of your marriage.

You grab your coat and purse and head out the door. You look back to see Chris standing there very concerned with his hands on his hips.

You take a deep breath and push the elevator button to go down. The car ride was silent, all could hear was your tires hitting the road. You turned off your radio. Your anxiety was through the roof.

You pull up at home and just sat in the car. This was about to be a shit show. You decided to leave your purse in in the car just in case it gets too crazy. You walk in the door. Noah is standing in the kitchen waiting on you. You both sit and stare at each other for a few minutes.

It’s time to come clean.

“Noah…I’ve been having an affair.”

Silence

“I already knew that.”

You looked confused.

“You think I am stupid. You never stay the night at any friend’s house. You always find a way home whether someone drops you off or you take an Uber. You’ve been leaving out at night not returning home. You fucking disabled the ring doorbell! How stupid!”

You swallow.

“Who are fucking Y/N? Enlighten me. Is he your baby’s father? We’ve been together for over a decade and not even one close call.” Noah’s is beginning to yell.

“I don’t know who the baby’s father is. It’s between you and the other man.”, You are literally whispering right now from being so embarrassed.

“And that is?” Noah sits up a little more and tilts his head. Takes a drink from his whiskey glass.

“A coworker.”

“A coworker? You get to see this fucker EVERY SINGLE DAY?” He’s basically yelling right now.

“You’ve been working so much, and I felt neglected! You don’t have time for me anymore. The getaway to Florida was the first time in a long time that you even paid any attention to me. The sex is boring, and I don’t love you anymore Noah!"

The next thing you knew Noah threw his drinking glass at your but barely missed. It hit the wall behind you. You looked up to see Noah charging at you and you threw your hands up. He slammed you in the nearest wall. He had you pinned.

“I have been saving lives while you have been here being a fucking whore.”

You hear your living room door burst open and look over to see Chris. Oh God no! The look in Chris’ eyes showed that he was ready to kill!

“Chris!” You hollered.

Noah lets you go.

“This is the mother fucking you’ve been screwing?”

“You are fucking right. I’ve been dicking down your wife bitch! Oh, and she’s having my baby too.”

Lord Jesus that made your pussy throb.

Noah charges towards Chris and Chris hits him with a quick right hook. Noah flys back and Chris runs to Noah and clocks him again.

“Chris please.” You pull Chris’ arm to drag him away from Noah. Noah is touching his mouth and it’s bleeding.

“Don’t you ever put your hands on a woman again!” Chris yells. “Punk bitch!”

“Chris leave please. Now…go!”

“I’m not leaving without you, are you crazy?”

“I will wait outside until you come out.” Chris walks out and stands by his car.

You turn to Noah.

“This marriage is over. I am in love with Chris. I am going to be with him.”

“Get your fucking shit and I want you out. Out of this house and out of my life.”

“I am going to go pack some clothes. I will get the rest of my shit when you leave out again for work, so we don’t have to see each other.”

You walk upstairs and grab a suitcase. You pack everything that is important, clothes, shoes, products. Everyday stuff. You take a deep breath and walk downstairs and out the door starting your new life. Chris is still outside. You walk up to him and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Let’s go home baby.” He speaks.

You both make it to Chris’ apartment and your phone begins to ring, it’s your mother. Noah probably told her what just happened.

“Hi Mom.”

“Y/N, what is going on between you and Noah? You left him for another man? And he man got you pregnant? What in the world.”

“Mom, calm down and listen.”

You tell your mother everything. Yes, you had an affair, you are pregnant, and you are in love with another man. You know this mess is going to take some time to calm down, but your heart wants Chris. You stay on the phone for about another 30 mins but don’t introduce Chris because now is not the time.

“Hi Chris.”

You go and sit next to him on the couch.

“Hi there.”

“How are you feeling?”

“My adrenaline is going right now with everything.”

You smile.

“I understand. How is your hand?”

“It’s fine. It hurts a little that about it.”

You get up to go get ice for his hand and come back to watch tv and cuddle. You order take out for dinner and head to bed. You never thought in a million years that you would be in this kind of situation. You just have to take it a day at a time.

The next day you get in contact with a divorce lawyer. You want this process over with as soon as possible. You continue for the next few weeks living with Chris. Everything is going great, and no one at work has a clue until….

Noah creates a Facebook post going on a rant about the event that have taken place. You knew the divorce paper would be served today but you didn’t think he would take it to social media! Your phone begins to blow up with people trying to let you know what is going on and asking questions.

Your bestie Carrie sends you the screen shot.

“Look at this bullshit Chris!”

You show Chris the post.

“Oh my God he is bonkers. What is that going to accomplish?”

“I don’t know. He leaves for Arizona to go work this weekend. I am going to get the rest of my shit and try to get the house on the market."

You are trying to stay as calm as possible to not upset the baby. You and Chris decide to work from home for the rest of the week to get a game plan going for work. You both know people will talk but there are bigger fish to fry now.

That Saturday, you and Chris drive over to your home with Noah. You notice his car in the driveway. That’s weird he should be gone by now. You roll your eyes and walk to the door. You turn the knob, and the door is not locked. Weird.

You walk in and holler that you are there and just picking up some more stuff.

Nothing.

You walk around. You see Noah’s keys and wallet on the living room table. OK…

You walk upstairs to the bedroom, and then to the bathroom because the door was opened and lights are on. You see Noah’s lifeless body in the tub.

“CHRISSSSS!” You scream out while running out the house. He meets you at the door.

Noah is dead!

@chris-butt 💙

[staticscreenwriting]

The loneliest time of the year || Part two

Part 2 of 4

Summary: With a broken heart and the fear of having failed as a father, Frankie returns to his parents house for Christmas. What is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year feels quite lonely. Though when an old friend shows up unexpectedly with her young son in tow, Frankie’s Christmas seems to gain a little more happiness. Can they help each other fight the ghosts of their pasts and overcome their fears ?

A/N: This is part of my 12 days of Christmas / Advent special. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated.

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Four messed up pies

By the morning of December 9th a heavy blanket of snow rests upon the world like a tick coat of marshmallow fluff. 

A restlessness surges through Frankie as he turns from his left to his right to his back then repeats the process all over again. He kicks away the blankets then pulls them back. Sleep doesn’t come easy these days. In fact sleep hasn’t come easy in a while. It’s a price you have to pay for leading the life he leads, has led. For doing the job he did. You see things, bad things, and they stay with you. Not always but in the quiet moments they creep back into your mind and all you can do is stare and hope they fade again soon. Fill your brain with other things. Occupy your mind.

It’s moments like these that his fingers are twitching and his body is aching for release. For something to numb his mind. Help him forget. 

There aren’t a lot of things that Frankie is proud of. In fact he can count them on one hand. One of them is his ability to fly. He's a damn good pilot … most of the time. (He is when someone doesn’t force him to navigate an overloaded plane across the Andes). He’s proud of Rosie. Despite his flaws and shortcomings he managed to create something so utterly perfect, that’s something to be proud of. And the. There’s the little coin in the pocket of his jacket. The one he fumbles with whenever he’s anxious or stressed. It’s gold and smooth and it proudly displays a big number 10 in the middle of a triangle on the front of the coin.

10 months. That’s a proud achievement. 

It could be more. It should be more! He really tried but after coming home from Colombia, one man less than they went in, after his girlfriend broke up with him and took Rosie with her. After everything. He needed the psi to stop. Just for one goddamn minute. He felt immediate regret wash over him when he woke up the next morning. Called Pope. Entered a 12 step program.

10 months and he feels better. He likes himself more now. But in those 10 months the voices have gotten louder, the images clearer, his heart feels heavier. 

With sleep being so far out of reach, he kicks off the blanket and drags his body out of bed. The smell of coffee hits his nose as soon as he steps out of his room, it drifts from the kitchen all the way up the stairs. 

His parents are sitting by the kitchen counter, mom holding onto a big steaming mug of coffee while his dad is deeply invested in the morning. Paper, glasses perched low on his nose. This is home, it sends him straight back to his childhood. If only, he thinks, if only he could provide this sense of warmth and domesticity for his own child. 

A knock on the front door shakes him from his thoughts. As he swings it open, a sharp sting of cold winter air whips at him, nips at his nose, his ears and his bare feet.

“Frankie hey, oh sorry did I wake you?”

(Y/N) is once again bundled up in layers of cozy clothes, keeping her warm and sheltered from the harsh weather. She looks cute. Absolutely fucking adorable. But in that moment, he doesn��t really notice that. Doesn’t notice Leo standing behind her either. His entire attention rests on the steaming pie she holds in her hands. 

“You made a pie?”

“She made 4.” Leo speaks up, his voice dripping with irritation and annoyance. 

“Thanks for throwing me under the bus, dude!”

Frankie regards the exchange with a fond smile pulling at the corners of his lips. There’s something so distinctly familiar in the way she interacts with her son, so unapologetically her. The way she’s always been. But now grown up entirely. A mother. 

“Why did you make 4 pies?” He asks, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Well I didn’t plan on making 4. The first one I mistook salt for sugar so you can imagine how it tasted. The second one I put way too much sugar in, might’ve been trying to compensate for my mistake with the first one but yeah that one did end up in the trash as well. The third … well I got pretty invested in an episode of unsolved mysteries and forgot it was in the oven so it turned out um — “

“Black. It was burned to a crisp.” Leo chimes up again, this time more amused than annoyed by his mother’s baking escapades.

“Yeah. It burned. But number 4 is looking pretty good.”

She looks up at Frankie with a smile so radiant it rivals the sun reflecting on the snowy ground. Pride shines in her eyes as she holds the pie towards him.

“Did you make me a pie?”

“Not exactly. It’s mostly for your folks. They agreed to watch this one while I got shopping for his Christmas presents.” (Y/N) explains, her tumb motioning towards the little boy over her shoulder. “This is a thank you to them for being literal angels. “

“Oh man you wouldn’t be saying that if you had to live with them growing up. I can’t tell you how many times dad unplugged my console while I was in the middle of a game.”

It’s a joke, of course it is. He really lucked out in the parents department and he’s not too proud or too shy to admit it. Maybe, he thinks, the good parent gene might’ve skipped a generation with him. His ex will surely agree with that statement. 

“Hey uh — you mind having some company while shopping ?”

“You wanna go shopping for toys?”

“I need to get some presents for my daughter.”

“Oh that’s right, you have a kid too. “

He doesn’t blame her for not remembering. He doesn’t strike people as the father type. And really, he hasn’t seen his little one in quite some time.doesn’t see her during the entire Christmas time. Is he really much of a father anyway?

“Sure yeah! I’d love some company.”

Maybe, Frankie thinks, this will help him drown out the voice. Those that tell him bad thoughts, whisper mean things. Maybe it will help him filter out the images. The blood. The suffering.

Frankie was never overly fond of the extreme commercialization of what should be a peaceful family holiday. But maybe this year he is,a little bit at least. Because those bright colors, the loud noises, the crowds, the ads assaulting you from every corner, that all will help drown out the dark. At least for a moment. 

“Alright lemme just get changed real quick.”

On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Five days a week

“What the fuck is this?”

“It’s uh … it’s a … a game?”

“A game where you have to catch a piece of … poop.”

A wave of laughter tumbles from (Y/N)’s lips as Frankie holds up the brightly colored box, proudly displaying a drawing of a smiling turd. 

“It’s so dumb. And that says a lot coming from me, I can appreciate a good fart joke. But this is …. this is just dumb. “

“ It's what the kids these days want. I guess …”

“Would you buy this for Leo?”

“Absolutely not,” (Y/N) replies before taking the box from his hand and placing it back on the shelf between several more games of a similar kind. “But he wouldn’t like it anyway. Leo likes books and animals and fantasy movies. He’s so smart sometimes I wonder where he got it from.”

“You kidding me?” Frankie exclaims, “you’re so smart and if I remember correctly, you always carried around books when you were younger.”

(Y/N) just shrugs at his words though Frankie can’t make out a faint blush of red dusting her cheeks. “Leo is such an easy kid, always has been. Sometimes I wonder if that’s really the way he is or if he just tries to be that way because of me. Because he knows that I have to do all the parenting by myself and he feels he’s responsible for helping me along.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re doing good with him. Least you know what to get him for Christmas, what he cares about, what he’s interested in.”

His heart feels so heavy. His words seem to weigh down on his tongue like a stack of bricks. To admit your own failures to yourself is one thing, to admit them to someone else is quite another story.

“What do you mean ?”

“I — I have no idea what to get for Rosie. I don’t even know when I’ll see her next. She stays with her mom 5 days a week. I only get her on the weekends and even then her mom often finds a reason not to let her stay. Special occasions? I don’t get to spend those with her. Bet she doesn’t even recognize me anymore next time. She’s just a baby …”

This can’t be happening. He’s not going to start crying in the middle of a Toys R Us like a hyperactive toddler on a temper tantrum. Not in front of a beautiful girl who has been nothing but kind to him. This can’t be happening.

(Y/N)’s hand settles on his arm with a gentle touch. Almost as if she’s afraid he’ll break any minute now. And honestly, he might.

“Tell me about Rosie. I know she means the world to you and that’s all that matters Frankie. You’re trying. You’re trying so hard and I’m sure there’s lots about her that you know that no one else does. She’s your baby too. So tell me about her and we’ll figure out what to get her.”

And so they sit down on a swing set, one that’s definitely not meant for adults to sit on and have deep discussions, and Frankie starts talking. Once he starts it’s like a cork has been popped. It pours out of him, all of his pride and admiration and love for Rosie. All that has been brewing for so long now bubbles over. 

“... and she, she loves cuddling onto my chest and just listens to me. She doesn’t understand a word but she looks at me with her big beautiful eyes and it feels like I’m telling her all the biggest secrets of the universe the way she looks at me. Sometimes I sing and she — she falls asleep immediately.”

“That’s adorable.”

“Nah I think it's because my rendition of Eric Clapton is just real bad and boring.”

Their laughter is quiet, almost as if they are afraid of breaking the spell of this moment. Sometimes you find yourself at your most vulnerable during the big moments of your life and sometimes you do in the middle of a Toys R Us, sitting on a swingest that just barely holds your weight while a plastic giraffe looks over your shoulder and Kacey Musgrave’s rendition of “I’ll be home for Christmas” plays over the same overhead speakers that have been installed there in 1983.

“I just don’t want to disappoint her.”

 He’s already disappointing himself and that hurts bad enough.

“Frankie, let me be honest with you. She’s a baby, she’s not gonna care what you get for her. This is more about you than her. Whatever you get she’s gonna like it. Babies are easy to please, gets harder the older they get. We’ll find something cute for her but um … I think you should call her.”

“She’s a baby, she doesn’t have a phone yet.”

“ Really? I had Leo on a newborn data plan the second he popped out.”

Frankie raises his eyebrow in confusion.

“I was joking you dingus. Of course you’re gonna call her mom. There’s this thing, I don’t know if you’ve heard about it, it’s called FaceTime. You can actually see ther person on the other side. “ 

“ Very funny. I know what facetime is … “ 

“ Then call them. You said it yourself, the little one doesn’t understand a word of what you’re saying but that doesn’t matter. You’re there. You’re showing interest and taking initiative. It shows you care. And I think seeing her might be good for you too, even if it’s not in person.” 

“ You know, that sounds like a pretty good plan. “ 

“ Yeah? “ she asks him, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes, in her voice, in her entire being.

“ Yeah. “ 

“ Alright! Now let’s go find some presents for the little princess. May I suggest a cellphone? “ 

This time her laughter isn’t quite. It’s loud and radiant and the way her own joke amuses herself, is so goddamn endearing to Frankie. 

“ Ah shut up. “ he replies though his voice too is dipped in amusement as he throws his arm around her shoulders and they walk down the shiny linoleum floor, past dolls and teddy bears and Star Wars action figures.

And it feels right. Like the fit together perfectly. Like puzzle pieces slotting into place. 

And that feeling is damn scary.

On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Six-hour flights.

The floor of (Y/N)’s living room is covered in wrapping paper. Reds and greens and silvers and golds hide what once was a nice dark cherry wood floor. There are bows and ribbons and gift tags in all shapes and sizes and colors. 

“ Looks like Santa’s workshop in here, “ Frankie exclaims as he drops down on the floor next to her. All the presents they’ve purchased, neatly lined up in front of them, ready to be wrapped. Though to be fair, Frankie is quite sure he’s not gonna do a lot of wrapping himself. Sometimes you gotta admit defeat. And he ain’t too proud to admit that he is a horrible, horrible wrapper. 

“ Yeah, I know I’m making a big fuss over things like this. Wrapping and the tree and stuff like that. I just — I don’t know it just makes me happy when I see that my actions put a smile on the faces of the people I love. “ 

“ Oh I wasn't judging. It’s sweet. “ 

For a while they stay in comfortable silence. Just them and the radio playing old Christmas songs. (Y/N)’s hands do quick work on the presents, Santa’s elves would be jealous. 

It’s the first time in a long time, that silence doesn’t make him feel uncomfortable. That it doesn’t open up the gates for the voices to grow louder and the bad images to consume his head. No, this silence feels comfortable. It’s soft and warm. It’s tinted in golds and reds. 

Maybe, he thinks, maybe seeking the company of someone who exudes joy and warmth does him good. Someone who knows him but not the bad. Never the bad. The faults, yes, the fears even, but not the blood that stains his hands or the vices he so desperately tries to fight.

“ What was the best Christmas present you ever got? “ (Y/N) speaks up as she glides a pair of scissors along the ribbon turning it into shiny curls. 

“ Millennium Falcon playset.” 

“ You and a million other little boys. “ 

“True. What can I say, I was easily pleased. What was yours ?”

(Y/N) thinks for a moment before a wistful smile settles on her face. 

“My bubblegum pink roller skates.”

“Oh, I remember those!”

And he did. Squeaky pink roller skates with 4 pastel blue wheels and glittery silver laces.

“I remember the following summer all you did was skate up and down the street.  “

“Yeeeah but that wasn’t entirely because of the skates.”

Frankie combs his hair from his face, he really needs to get it cut, and looks at her in confusion. “Huh?”

Another chuckle falls from (Y/N) ‘s lips. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice.”

“ Notice what?”

“That I had the biggest crush on you.”

Frankie is grateful for the fact that he’s not taking a sip of his drink right then, it surely would’ve ended in a spit-take. He was a nerdy kid, a nerdy teenager too. Kinda shy, a little lost. He wasn’t usually the boy that girls fancied.

“Me? You had a crush on me? “

It doesn’t make sense, not really. She was the one that was fascinating and exciting. Though he didn’t think of her that way when they were kids, he knew she was beautiful even back then. He hadn’t been interested in her romantically because she was a few years younger but that didn’t meanie didn’t realize the magic she held.

“Yes, you. You were cool, Frankie. You were older and you knew stuff about cars and planes and you could name every Star Wars spaceship and you had a skateboard. “

“I was a horrible skater.”

“Sure but it wasn’t so much about the skating as it was about the aesthetic. You were cool and you still are cool”

Frankie shrugs his shoulder nonchalantly. She thought he was cool, still does. No one ever thought he was cool. He isn’t a smooth talker like Pope and even he himself can admit that look wise he isn’t even playing in the same league as Will and Benny. But if (Y/N) thinks he’s cool that must mean something. Right ?

“You were the one traveling all over the world with your dad and you thought I was cool?”

She sets down the scissors, let’s her hands rest on her lap. There’s a sense of nervousness exuding from her now. Like the words she wants to speak are resting on the tip of her tongue and yet they are so difficult to speak.

“Maybe that was part of it too. I never had a real home. Nothing stable at least. Except for my grandparents’ house. This was home and you were, you are, forever entwined with my idea of home. Sometimes I missed this place so much that I’d sit in my room and my little brain would think of all the fun adventures we could go on if only I was old enough to hop on a 6 hour flight by myself. I’d ask grandma about you every time I called and she always told me what trouble you got into.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yeah and that only made you more exciting in my eyes. Then she’d offer to let me speak to you but I was too chicken shit to do it. Thought you might look right through my facade and realize how into you I was.”

“I was so oblivious, I can assure you I wouldn’t have noticed.”

“Well … it’s too late now.”

“I guess so. Just — next time you fall in love with me let me know, alright.”

Her laugh rings through the room like bells, like songs, like whispers of a childhood magic long forgotten.

“That only sounds fair. It’s a deal.”

“Good, now …. would you mind wrapping my gifts for Rosie?”

“Nope, but in return would you come see Leo’s play with me next week? My dad can’t come and I think Leo would like to have some more people there that support him. And he seems to think you’re cool so …”

“Huh guess if you both think so it must be true.”

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Of course I’ll come. “

She smiles and it sends a weird flicker through him. Like fire, like electricity. 

“ Now let me teach you how to curl the ribbon properly.”

[artificialqueens]

Taste of a Poison Paradise, Chapter 6 (Multi) - Joley

Chapter Summary: Lemon continues to cope poorly, Brooke Lynn, Kameron, and Vanessa realize that love triangles are out and triads are in, Nicky surprises Jan with a travel proposal, Jackie gets invested in Jaida’s OnlyFans, and Gigi is dealing with some unwanted attention (TW for mentions of stalking and sexual harassment).

ao3 link

Jan watched as Lemon packed her suitcases. “Maybe we should let the lease expire,” she remarked, hoping that distracting her friend with mundane conversation would keep her from getting upset again. “If you’re gonna stay with Rosé, and I stay at Nicky’s most of the time, it doesn’t make sense to keep paying for this place. And like, you’re always welcome to stay with us too, if you want.”

“No offense, but I don’t really wanna be around your beautiful, blossoming romance any more than I have to be. Also, don’t you think you guys are moving a little fast? I mean, it’s been like… a month. Vanjie’s a nut but even she waited a solid three months before rolling out the u-haul,” Lemon replied, throwing her body onto the suitcase to get it to close.

“You’re not wrong,” she conceded. “But her place is gorgeous, you can’t blame me for wanting to just stay there and get fucked for hours on end.”

She rolled her eyes but nodded. She couldn’t complain because she was the one that brought it up, but hearing how perfect things were for Jan and Nicky made her seethe with envy. “Guess we’ll just have to see if you guys can still stand each other once the honeymoon phase is over.”

Jan frowned. “Okay, I’m not gonna take that personally because I know you’re going through a hard time right now,” she murmured. “Is that everything?”

“Yep,” Lemon mumbled as she got up and dragged her suitcases to the front door. She then stopped and rifled through her purse, pulling out a flask and taking a swig, then offered it out to Jan.

“No thanks, not really up for day drinking today,” she said, then leaned over and sniffed the opening of the flask. “Is that straight vodka?”

She shook her head. “There’s sprite in there too,” she assured.

Again, Jan chose not to argue with her. She knew her friend was hurting and she hoped the worst of it would pass once she got settled in with Rosé. “Let’s get going,” she sighed.

Once Rosé had officially taken Lemon in, Jan’s nerves eased up, but her concern hadn’t. “I think this is the best place for her to be right now. Make sure she doesn’t fall off with her coursework, okay? This is her last semester and I’d hate for this to derail her entirely and–”

“Jan,” Rosé put her hand on her shoulders to try to focus her attention. “Breathe, baby. I love your love for her, but you don’t have to be her mom. I got it from here.”

Jan nodded, taking a deep breath in an attempt to quell the remaining concerns. “Okay, I’m good,” she told her. “How are you, by the way? Things going well with Denali?”

“Yeah, there’s not much to report,” she shrugged. “We’re just sleeping together, and neither of us has a boyfriend so there’s no downside.”

“You say that now.”

——-

Brooke Lynn sat in an uncomfortable silence of her own creation, her gaze fixed down on her plate. It was so much easier talking to Kameron when Vanessa was sandwiched between them – being alone with her made her feel exposed.

“I’m not trying to take Vanessa from you,” Kameron bluntly broke the silence. “I like her, I like spending time with her – with both of you – but I’m not interested in creating drama.”

She blinked, taking in what she’d said. Had she come off as threatened? Jealous? She supposed it wasn’t the most outlandish thought. “No, no it’s not like that. I trust Vanjie and I trust you. I’m just still kind of new to the world of relationships, let alone serious ones, you know?”

Much to her relief, Kameron nodded in understanding. “Listen, I get it. If you don’t have a lot of dating experience, someone like Vanjie can be… a lot. But I know you guys love each other, though I’m not gonna sit here and claim that I don’t have any feelings for either of you… I can get a little clingy after sex, what can I say?”

Brooke bit her lip and looked down. “I can’t say I expected this, but I’m not complaining,” she told her. “And I know you haven’t told Vanj yet, or I’d have already heard about it.

“I kind of figured you’d be a tougher nut to crack,” she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “I mean, I’m not oblivious, I know you weren’t thrilled with the whole open relationship thing at first.”

“You’re right,” she conceded. “But I’ve honestly warmed up to it… I’ve warmed up to you, anyway.” She pressed her lips together as she thought. “I think the three of us should talk. Because I don’t think she ever wanted an open relationship, she just wanted you. And I don’t blame her.”

Kameron arched her brow, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. “So, what, you’re thinking of trying a throuple situation?”

Brooke smiled and shrugged. “I think it’s an option worth considering.”

But to consider it properly, they did need Vanessa. So, once they were all together in their apartment, they opened the floor. “I think it’s a damn good idea,” Vanessa started. “Can’t believe it took us this long to think of it.”

The other two girls laughed. “I think we were expecting that answer,” Brooke told her. “I don’t think any of us are opposed to it, it’s more about working out the details. For example… Do we move Kameron in with us? I feel like it’s a bit awkward to have two-thirds of a throuple living together with the third somewhere else.”

“I’m not about to say no to not having to pay rent,” Kameron laughed lightly. “I rent month to month, so I just have to be out by the end of it,” she explained. “And besides, if I get sick of you guys, I could just crash in the guest room. Which, by the way, is like half of my entire apartment.”

“This feels like a business transaction,” Vanessa remarked, a bit of an annoyed whine in her voice.

“You know what they say, baby,” Brooke hummed, “business before pleasure.”

——

“Would you like to come with me to Paris?” Nicky asked as she laid in bed with Jan. “I’m going over there for a long weekend and I think you could use a little holiday.”

Jan beamed brightly and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds like fun. What’s the occasion?”

There was a hesitation before her reply that wasn’t lost on Jan. “I try to go and check in on my mother now and then. But I don’t want to trouble you with that, there’s plenty of things to do and–”

“Do you not want me to meet your mom?”

Nicky quickly shook her head. “It isn’t that. It’s just… I have never brought a girl to meet her before. She means well, usually, but she can be… judgmental. I don’t think she ever fully came to terms with having a gay daughter. It is like… she loves me, but not who I am.”

“And her gay daughter bringing home a stripper would give her an aneurism?”

“This isn’t about what you do, Jan,” she insisted, “she’d react all the same if you were a doctor or a lawyer or the fucking president. But I mean, come on, what do your parents think you do for a living?”

Jan frowned and crossed her arms. “They know I’m still trying to find acting work during the day, and they know I work at the club at night… They just think I’m a waitress.”

“You guys do not have waitresses.”

“But they don’t know that!” she pointed out, then quietly followed up with, “I get it, whatever, forget I said anything.”

Nicky sighed and sat up, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Do you want to meet my mother that badly?”

This time, it was Jan who hesitated as she thought for a moment. “I mean, I don’t wanna make things more difficult or stressful for you…”

She reached out and took her hand, squeezing gently. “Come with me, we will burn the bridge after we cross it. But I need you to understand that I am not ashamed of you, okay? Not at all.”

Jan smiled softly, picking her head up and resting it on Nicky’s shoulder. Ever since she had started working at the club, she had made a promise to herself to never date anyone that made her question her self-worth. Truth be told, if her parents ever found out about her career, their response wouldn’t be one of anger, it would be pity. They would take her in, give her money, treat her like a poor, lost soul that needed to be put on the right path. And to her, that was so much worse. “I have always wanted to go to Paris.”

——

Having consciously been in the closet since she was sixteen, Jackie was well adept at keeping secrets. But this time, keeping a secret felt so much more difficult, because it involved more than just herself. And as inconsequential as the secret may be in theory, it weighed heavily on her conscience.

She had waited a couple of days before creating an account to subscribe to Jaida’s OnlyFans, lest it look suspicious. But once she was in, she was checking her page almost obsessively. Sure, she had seen Jaida in every state of undress, but this was different, more intimate. It came with the territory, but seeing Jaida’s body in ways she had only fantasized about drove her wild.

Then she decided to get bold.

Maybe it was the extra glass of wine, maybe it was an overwhelming bout of horniness. But something compelled her to send Jaida a private message, happy to pay the five-dollar fee.

NYCdude1985: Hi, do you take requests for personalized videos? How much does it cost?

Jaida: As in you want me to moan your name while I touch myself? Yeah, I do thirty-second clips for $20.

NYCdude1985: Done. My name is Jack. But I go by Jackie, so use that.

NYCdude1985: Please, sorry.

Jaida chuckled softly as she read the messages. Even through the brief exchange, she could sense Jackie’s anxiety, the trepidation she had. She found it endearing and she was proud of her for being brave enough to take that step, even if it was under a rather uncreative screen name.

How had she known it was Jackie? It was a simple oversight on Jackie’s end - she had left her laptop open in her office, where the girls would frequently enter if they needed to refill the snack shelves or replenish the bathrooms. Jaida had merely gone to see if she had any extra zebra cakes when she noticed the tab in the upper-left corner of her browser. Suddenly, snacks were the last thing on her mind.

And she had considered bringing it up to her but realized it would do more harm than good. Instead, she would give Jackie exactly what she wanted. She filmed herself rubbing her clit while she moaned Jackie’s name. She didn’t bother timing it, she decided she was going to give her the whole thing, start to finish. Her gaze fixed on the camera, wanting Jackie to feel like she was looking right at her.

When Jackie watched it, she felt the intensity. Her heart pounded in her chest, she couldn’t even touch herself the first time she watched it, so utterly fixated on how Jaida’s body moved, how her name sounded spilling from her lips, how desperately she wanted it to be for real. She had to consciously get herself to get off during her second watch-through, though she was actively imagining being there with Jaida, with her head between her thighs, eliciting those moans herself.

“I have to tell her,” Jackie said to Nicky the next day. The two of them had formed a friendship since Nicky first arrived, Nicky, finding comfort in a fellow French speaker and Jackie appreciating having a confidant. “It’s gonna eat me alive until I do.”

“You should tell her,” Nicky replied as she took a hit off her vape. “You said it yourself, it is the only way you are going to feel any better. Besides, what is the worst thing that could happen?”

Jackie looked at her as if she’d sprouted another head. “I lose a close friend and incredible employee, not to mention the potential ethical ramifications of buying porn from an employee.”

Nicky tilted her head, thinking, before asking, “est ce que tu l'aimes?”

Her eyes went wide and her face went red at the question, at the mere suggestion. “Je ne pense pas pouvoir dire que… l'amour est un mot si fort.”

“Maybe so,” she conceded, “but consider that you could not say ‘no’.”

“I’d rather not,” Jackie chuckled dryly. “Listen, I gotta send some business emails out before the girls start coming in. You should go pack for your little getaway tomorrow.”

Nicky nodded and kissed the top of her head. “I will bring you back a souvenir.”

Jackie wasn’t left alone with her thoughts for long, not a minute after she finished her emails, she looked up to see Gigi walking in and sitting down on one of the chairs. But what caught her attention was their body language – they were looking down, fiddling with their hair, and swinging their legs. “What’s wrong, Geege?”

Gigi sighed and looked up. “Okay, like, this is stupid and whatever, but Crystal thinks I should tell you that I think a client I had a couple of weeks ago is stalking me. I made a composite sketch,” they explained, opening their messenger bag and pulling out a piece of paper. “Do you think if I give this to Kameron, she could make sure he stays out?”

“Gigi,” she said firmly, “that isn’t stupid at all. This is serious. Did he hurt you? What happened?”

They groaned, knowing this would happen despite any attempt to avoid triggering Jackie’s maternal instinct. “He kept asking about the VIP room and I decided I could use the extra cash. So, we were in there and I told him I’d give him a handy and he was like, okay cool. But after he paid for that he kept trying for more and was being really creepy about it, so, I left. He just… really didn’t like that I blew him off instead of blowing him. He found me on Instagram and started harassing me there, kept making fake accounts after I blocked them and he figured out where I go to school.”

Jackie’s eyes widened in horror. “Geege, this isn’t a matter for Kameron, it’s for the police.”

“But I hate the police,” they crossed their arms and whined.

“We all hate the police, but this is a serious safety risk. Kameron can’t follow you everywhere to keep him away. I need to know that he won’t get the opportunity to hurt you.��

Gigi sighed, chewing on their lip. “I don’t wanna give him that power over me, I don’t even wanna waste the time or energy,” they explained. “But fine, just for you though, okay?”

Jackie smiled graciously. “Thanks, kiddo.”

After Jackie had taken Gigi to file the report, she had offered them the night off, but Gigi defiantly insisted on performing, though after one set, they found themself tired, laying on the common room couch.

Jan sat cross-legged on the floor beside them. “You know, gorge, it’s okay to not be okay. That asshole put you through a lot. I had to take off a week after… you know, the incident. We’re in an industry that can attract real creeps, we gotta put our mental health first.”

Gigi shook their head. “Your incident was different, it got physical. The only time this guy touched me was to try to push down on the back of my head.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Denali chimed in, sitting on the arm of the couch. “It’s about boundaries. You made yours clear and he kept crossing them. And you don’t know what this dude is capable of, any of us would be scared in that position. I’ve dealt with a stalker too – he never touched me, but I sure as fuck didn’t feel safe.”

“I just don’t see the point in dwelling on it. Feeling shitty about it isn’t gonna make it go away,” they replied.

Jan frowned, putting her hand on top of Gigi’s and squeezing gently. “It’s not healthy to ignore your feelings either way. It’s better to work through it than let it manifest into some nasty shit.”

“Who gives a fuck about feelings?” The three of them looked over to see Lemon stumbling into the common room, setting a freshly-emptied glass on the counter. “And who gives a fuck about men? All they do is get in the way and think the world revolves around their ugly dicks,” she ranted, a bit of slurring in her voice.

“Speaking of what happens when you ignore your feelings,” Jan muttered under her breath, then turned to face Lemon. “You’re not getting back on the pole tonight, are you?”

Lemon furrowed her brows. “Why wouldn’t I? I still have one more set,” she scoffed. But when she started to walk towards the other dancers, she stumbled, nearly losing her balance on her already precarious six-inch heels.

Denali and Jan exchanged concerned expressions. “I’ll call Rosie to come and get her,” she said before Jan could suggest it, turning on her heel and going to get her phone from her locker.

Gigi, meanwhile, nearly got whiplash from how fast their head moved back and forth from Jan and Denali to Lemon. “You know,” they said to Jan, “maybe I should start working through my feelings. Even therapy seems like a better alternative to…” they gestured to Lemon, “that.”

“As her friend, I feel like I need to intervene, but I think anything short of breaking up Pri and her fiancé is going to be a waste of time,” Jan mused as she watched her sit on the floor and struggle to take her heels off, cursing and whining quietly. “Something tells me things are gonna get worse before they get better.”

“Maybe,” they shrugged. “Lemon’s stubborn and possibly a little unstable… she might need to hit rock

[jenmyeons]

Favorite Fics 2019

hi hello it’s me your local mess. ok so this hit me on my way to work the other day and since it’s friday i feel like today is a good day to hopefully make someone’s day/night/weekend a little brighter? 

i love reading fanfics. periodt. there are lots of incredible writers out there on this site and other platforms who take time to write beautiful fics about the real people and characters and their emotional support kpop ladies and gentlemen to show their love and appreciation so i want to dedicate this to my favorite fics of this year. these fanfics are of varying lengths and genres but they all have two things in common 1) they were posted this year 2) i love them.

(most of these are exo but i have some other groups sprinkled in there too)

other favorite fics of mine can be found under my fic recs tag!

A Decade of Midnights by @chogi-wae 

queen of noir! grumpy chenneth! sexy detectives! murder mystery! do i even have to say anything else? oh yes! we also get coroner!baekhyun 

ps: jae has a sequel started for this with two parts already having me at the edge of my seat. i love all of jae’s writing but this one takes the cake

Enough by @yeoldontknow

anything kat touches turns golden and holy mother of everything that is self-love and reflection. this is a fic for all us sexy ladies with a body that doesn’t conform to what society has decided is “beautiful”. i can’t call myself plus size in any way but i do not have a flat tummy or legs for days or perky titties. quite the opposite; i’m a short lady with love handles, saggy tits and stomach rolls (yes we’re going tmi here but it’s important ok). park chanyeol is the opposite of that and he’s the best fucking man ever in this fic. he’s a muscle man but he’s a man with the biggest heart and he says “you have a cute butt” which is enough reason for you to read this. when i feel bad about myself, i think about enough and i become a little happier

Empty Vessels 

another yeoldontknow masterpiece! i stand by the statement that this is the best fic i have ever read. probably read this five times already and i think about it almost daily. junmyeon is a witch from salem and that’s only one of the many reasons for you to check this out and hopefully fall in love with it as much as i have. it’ll rip your heart out and stomp on it. dub me professional empty vessels promoter already kat!! 

Dichotomy by @kyungseokie

dia hurts you in the best possible way with this fic. bawl my eyes out every damn time i read this because fucking hell this is emotional investment and hearts broken and everything hurts and this is not your average love triangle where one guy is obviously worse than the other. NO! this can go either way and you just want everyone to be happy and baekhyun needs a hug!

Teacher’s Pet by @suhoerections

teacher junmyeon getting called daddy “threatening” to bend you over his desk and fuck you hard is a lot for a suhoe stan such as myself to think about but i’m not mad, just jorny.

Clouded by @mayrubyy

uhm yes do you want to cry some more? this is an emotional rollercoaster, you have been warned! this fic has great potential and it’s maya’s child and when the next part is posted you know shit will go down and ashjgff i have no words only love for both the author aka my baby and the fic itself🥺💖

Familiar Stranger by @myforeverforlife

love love love love LOVE familiar stranger! a beautiful story about reader losing all memories of the last five years due to an accident which includes her entire life with fiancé kim jongdae. dae is an angel, we all know that, but he’s somehow even more angelic as the most patient person ever in familiar stranger. this hits right in the feels (can you tell i love to read angst ahjdsf) and it’s not your usual wham bam thank you ma’am all-memories-recovered-in-five-seconds kind of situation either and i’m praying for another update of this because this is not just one of the best fics of this year but one of my favorites period.

Sunny Side Up by @dreaminghaos

i love everything fee writes with a burning passion y’all

this fic is everything everything everything!!! i can’t get enough of this fic and i probably never will get enough of it either because i love this pairing and i’m in love with struggling writer!jeonghan 

Magnetic by @softyexo 

did anyone say ceo!myeon? this is a recent love of mine. i read it just the other day and have been thinking about it non-stop since. absolutely in love with oc’s and junmyeon’s dynamic in this one and it feeds all my lovesickness for this man made of pure husband material. thanks for coming to this ted talk.

Hold on to silence by @dropsofletters

amazing! show stopping! incredibly unique! absolutely astonishing! idiots in love! omg i LOVE this one! yixing as chanhun’s manager is everything i didn’t know i needed and holy crap this is such a lovely story please read it and experience the feels™

Neon Moon by @kyungseokie

they were roleplaying! ROLEPLAYING!

Trauma by @baekwell--tart

dad and secret mafia man!byun falls in love with his babysitter after being an absolute asshole to her and oh my god i am so invested in this masterpiece. whenever bella updates trauma i yell. i’ve re-read this many times already and i continue to find new reasons why i love this story with my whole entire being

Mr. Byun

bella once again proving that she writes the most amazing bbh fics. angst and smut combined i swear i was a whole lot worked up with all the spice in this one and then i cried like a baby when it ended. have i told you that i’m a very emotionally stable person?🤡

Bedazzling Heart of Gold by @baekonsforbreakfast

i love this song! baekhyun gets dumped and falls in love with oc who runs one of the biggest hostess bars in all of sk and holy crap you just love everyone in this fic. even that one character who you feel like you should hate but kind of still empathize with on a deeply emotional level. no? just me? ok then. i love you belle and i hope you know how much i enjoy your writing💗

Mr. Muscles by @chogi-wae

short and sweet drabble about oc biting jun’s bicep. no but for real i’ve read this one countless times and i just love a domestic jun so go ahead and read duality and dyson as well because nobody writes cute domestic fluff like jae ilysm

Money Makes Her Smile by @ninibears-erigom

mrs gom has written one of the dirtiest but also loveliest smut series of 2019. jongdae’s part was posted yesterday and holy fuck i have never read better jongdae smut ever i think

Business Before Pleasure by @pcychedelic

actor minseok! i repeat: actor minseok!

they get down and dirty in like the second chapter and i’m in love. not because of the obvious spiciness but because the amazing portrayal of minseok in this fic. love a strong female character? then you will love oc too!

High Voltage by @skyesins

SIN! THIS IS SIN! I LOVED EVERY SINGLE PART OF THIS FIC AND PART TWO IS EVEN BETTER!

there’s also the original ofc version on asian fanfics for those who aren’t into reader inserts and it’s just as good! 

Literally every single aesthetic that @kpop-daze has written but some favorites include exo as broken love / exo as ephemeral tenderness /  exo as fleeting heartbreak 

Unfitting by @heechulhamster

SOLDIER MINSEOK SOLDIER MINSEOK SOLDIER MINSEOK that is all

no wait... this has real descendants of the sun vibes and i love it so much can i have a soldier!xiu por favor

Fire and Frost by @writing-exo-things

queen of drabbles! i love every single one of them but this one is next level™ i cried like a baby this is truly amazing!!!

Take Care by @omyeol 

 g o d i felt this fic on a deeply spiritual and emotional level 

False Hope by @pastel-kpop

i hate you and i love you for writing this it still hurts reading this like YES MAKE ME HURT AYESHA THEY ARE IDIOTS 

Mocha by @stainandscribble  

the whole café series is lovely but mocha and espresso really stuck out to me i’m so soft for the whole aesthetic of these! 

ever imagined that jackson wang is your date to your brother’s wedding? well @softseunies did and it turned out fucking amazing! what i love the most is that it’s very open for interpretation and of course jackson is always a mood when will he be my date and mayhaps potential bf at the wedding of the brother i don’t have?

little forest by @myforeverforlife

I LOVE THIS! DO YOU HEAR ME?! L O V E THIS!

not his to love by @boogerines

can you hear me sobbing? this hurts so much let me go back to crying over this again after i re-read this for the nth time

this blurb right here is adorable @sprinklesofktrash did that!

wild valley by @fairyyeols

wild valley is that bitch™ and that’s all i have to say i live and breathe for this installation of exo customs my favorite, in fact

blossoms in the wind by @marshmallow-phd

don’t @ me but this goblin!au with junmyeon as the goblin and baekhyun as the grim reaper is more intriguing than the drama and that’s saying a lot but i cry with every new chapter ohmygoddddd

wrong number by @yeoldotcom

i’m a hoe for fake texts and zee makes the best ones🥺🥺🥺🥺

also love love love bf!jun in food buddies

break up with me by @exoangst

don’t mind me i’m just crying in a corner as i read this for the millionth time and cry over how well written oc is and how fucking amazing that breakup scene is like has anyone done it like that before? maybe, idk but this is the only one that counts 

[animeniacss]

A Palette of Emotions - Artist!Taehyung x Teacher!Reader - Chapter 14 - A Unique Idea

Synopsis: Taehyung dreams of being a professional and famous artist one day, but finds that the sea of creativity can be lurking with blood hungry sharks, as well as bland, motionless starfish. Swimming through the sea of opportunities somehow washed him up onto the shore of Bright Star Preschool, as an art teacher. This wasn’t where he expected to be 4 years into his career, but anything to get his big break though, right?

Feat. BTS, TXT, ITZY, Jisoo (BlackPink), Taeyong (NCT)

Genre: Romance, Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Drama, School Setting, Working!AU

Length: approx. 5.7k words

Chapter 14 - A Unique Idea 

“Hey, Taehyung.” You hummed. Taehyung glanced up in your direction, as he closed the dress-up box behind him. The day had come to an end, and the kids left in stitches at the sight of their teachers dressed up as characters from their favorite story. Dropping the final item of his costume into the box, he closed it up, before turning to you fully. Hoseok, who was washing up the tables for the day, glanced up as well when he heard you begin to start a conversation.

“What’s up?” he asked curiously. For a moment, you didn’t say anything, pulling your braid over your shoulder. Taehyung glanced over at Hoseok for a moment, wondering if he, in any way, could telepathically tell Taehyung what you were about to say. Hoseok simply shrugged. That didn’t help ease Taehyung’s nerves at all. You glanced at him as you turned to the board lifting an eraser from the holder at the bottom.

“How was your dinner Friday night? What did you order?” Taehyung blinked, having to take a moment to think back to the previous Friday night. Almost as quickly as he began to think about it, a vision of your two eyes staring directly back at him as he exited the restaurant, eyes that he was surprised he had even forgotten about over the weekend.

“Huh? Oh yeah! Uhm well…I got steak and-.”

“Were you following me after I told you to mind your business?” Taehyung’s eyes widened as he watched you finish wiping down the board, turning in his direction. You looked at Hoseok too, who was also staring directly at him. “I saw you too. I thought you had dinner with your sister.”

“I did,” Hoseok said. “She made the reservations, then had to cancel. So, she told me to invite someone out in her place. I chose Taehyung.” You glanced at Taehyung, who nodded in agreement, still looking a bit frantic. “We weren’t stalking you.”

“Well…it felt that way.” You admitted. “Looking at Taehyung stare right at me as he left was a bit unsettling.” Taehyung sighed.

“Sorry…I didn’t know,” Taehyung assured, running his hand through his hair. You nodded, smiling a bit.

“I see that now. I’m sorry. When Namjoon noticed that you were there, he got a bit uneasy, and I guess it made me a bit uneasy too, but I didn’t want to bring it up over text or something childish like that.” You admitted. Taehyung nodded, feeling a weight lift off of his shoulders at that moment. “And this morning we were so busy so…figured I would wait to say something.”

“Right, right…” Taehyung nodded his head, eyes scanning the room as he thought of what to say. He wanted to say something before his eyes fell back to you. “So, uh…how did it go?” Curious eyes cast in Taehyung’s direction from both you and Hoseok, and he coughed a bit into a balled-up fist. “The date…I mean.”

“I told you guys this morning, it went fine. Dinner was nice and we…took a walk, and talked, and that’s it. Nothing amazing happened.” When your eyes darted away from him, Taehyung knew that he shouldn’t bring it up anymore. An awkward silence covered the trio after that, nobody knowing what to say, that is until Hoseok let out a frustrated sigh and knew he had to speak up.

“Okay, so Taehyung.” Hoseok hummed, making the boy look over. “Remember, when she goes out on dates, we have to tie ourselves to our couches and do nothing until she’s home. Because if we go to the same places, we’re technically stalking her.” Taehyung let out a chuckle, nodding.

“Right, I’ll remember that for next time.” He said.

You scoffed, tugging the tie that held your braid out of your hair. “Yeah, you better.” You said simply, and Hoseok laughed. Taehyung watched as you pulled the braid out of your head, allowing the tips to begin to unravel. He watched as you ran your fingers through the braid, untangling it all out. As it came fully undone, you have was still just as wavy as it was when he saw you Friday evening. It flowed down your shoulders and curled at your collarbone. It was starting to get a bit longer than it was when he first met you, and it suited you wonderfully. Taehyung had to immediately avert his eyes away when you glanced back in his direction. Your hands raised, taking the tie and pulling your curls up behind your head, securing them in place in a looser and more relaxed ponytail. As you swished it side to side, Taehyung confirmed to himself why Hoseok was so attached to you for almost 15 years.

“Alright, now that everything is almost done, I have to get going.” Taehyung blinked.

“Leaving so early? Maybe I should stalk you and figure out what’s caused this rare occurrence.” His teasing made you roll your eyes, and Hoseok’s amused chuckle didn’t help.

“Oh, haha, Kim Taehyung. My mother said she was coming to Seoul for a few days on business and wants me to take her out to lunch.” As you grabbed your purse and keys, you scanned the room. “Hoseok, do you mind finishing up for me?”

“I don’t have much to do. Leave it to me~!” He grinned. You nodded, before waving to Taehyung.

“See you tomorrow.” You said, passing by him quickly as you hurried out the door. Taehyung waved you off, watching as the door closed behind you and you scurried off, curly ponytail bouncing behind you. Hoseok simply returned to cleaning the rest of the tables, while Taehyung slowly sank to the floor, sprawling himself out on the colorful preschool carpet. He glanced over at the younger boy, blinking.

“You can’t nap there; I need to vacuum.” He huffed simply. “Go nap at your desk, or go home. You worked hard today, you should-.”

“I wanna ask her out on a date.” Taehyung hummed. Hoseok felt his hand immediately stop moving on the table, the damp cloth clutched tightly in his fist. He looked over his shoulder at Taehyung, who was staring up at the ceiling. “I do.”

“…Then do it,” Hoseok said simply.

“I can’t. She’s going on dates with Namjoon….” Hoseok had to take another deep breath, forcing himself to continue wiping down the table.

I hope he knows how much this is killing me. Is he doing this on purpose? The little punk. When Hoseok turned over his shoulder again to look at Taehyung, he noticed something in Taehyung’s eyes that hit him with a feeling of déjà vu. Taehyung’s eyes, dark and mysterious, stared up at the ceiling with such desire in them. Hoseok saw in Taehyung the same boy that was sprawled out on the floor of his bedroom every night, thinking endlessly about how much he loved you. It made Hoseok feel a bit bad for his thoughts, despite how true they were to him. God damn it, Kim Taehyung. Don’t make me regret this.

“She isn’t dating Namjoon, you know that, right?” He asked, and Taehyung’s head lolled in Hyung’s direction. “You can ask her out on a date if you want to.”

“Yeah but….” Taehyung sighed. “I don’t know if she’d want to. I know she’s being nice to me now, but like, I don’t know how she feels about me.” When Taehyung heard Hoseok sigh again, he immediately sat up. All the memories of Friday’s dinner came flowing back into his mind. “Fuck. Hyung, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be-.”

“Don’t apologize.” Hoseok quickly turned to face him. He was smiling, but just like from across the table, Taehyung could immediately notice the pain in his eyes. “I told you, I tried to win her over and she didn’t go for it. I don’t think it’ll change. If you and Namjoon want to try for her, I have no place stopping you.” He continued to smile. “No matter how much it hurts.”

Taehyung looked at Hoseok for what felt like an eternity. Hoseok shouldn’t be the one he is venting to about you; it just wasn’t fair. As Taehyung slowly stood up from the floor, he stuck his hands in his pockets.

“I’ll get going, then. Sorry.” He said. Hoseok couldn’t help but offer an amused chuckle as Taehyung looked around nervously.

“Taehyung, I told you that you have nothing to be sorry for.” He assured. Taehyung, knowing Hoseok was lying, simply nodded and smiled.

“Have a good night.” Taehyung hummed, nodding his head before he headed out the door. Hoseok waved him off, watching as the door closed behind him. When Hoseok found himself alone in the classroom, he set the cloth down onto the table, before plopping himself down in one of the chairs and running a hand through his hair. His body felt as if it had been carrying 15 tons of bricks, and he had finally allowed them to drop once Taehyung left the room. He felt his chest clench up, and he quickly swallowed, scratching his hair. He didn’t want to be seen crying in the classroom. While you and Taehyung had left, he knew at any moment, Seokjin could pop his head in, just for the hell of it. That’s just the kind of man he was. As Hoseok, quickly rubbed at his eyes, he looked around the room and stood up.

“…I’ll come in early and finish tomorrow.” He said to himself, before grabbing his bag from its spot behind the desk and heading out the door.

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Taehyung felt so guilty about mentioning his desire to date you in front of Hoseok. After he had just laid his heart out on the table for him, too, it was as if Taehyung didn’t even pay attention! Pacing his living room, something he found himself doing more and more with each passing day, he thought about texting an apology to Hoseok. However, if he knew Hoseok well, and he would like to think he had gotten to know him over the past few months, Hoseok wouldn’t want him to apologize. At least, he wouldn’t want to admit it out loud. In the middle of Taehyung’s many rantings, there was a knock at his door, which finally stopped his feet from pacing and forced him to look up at the door.

As he walked over, he clicked the lock and flung it open. Before him stood Jungkook. He was in an old white shirt, baggy pants, and had his growing hair in a pulled-up bun. A few blank canvases lay under his arm, a big, beige satchel across his chest, and on his face was that ever-so endearing grin.

“Hi Hyung.” He said. Taehyung crossed his arms.

“What are you doing?” he asked curiously. “I told you that you couldn’t come and start until you caught up on your work.” Jungkook nodded.

“I know. I did.” He assured. When Taehyung didn’t look convinced, Jungkook dug into his pocket, pulling out his phone. After taking a moment to skim through it, before turning the screen to Taehyung. Taehyung leaned forward to get a better look.

Mom! I finished all my work during lunchtime! Please tell me I can go out and see Taehyung-sunbae so I can practice my art!

…Alright, Jungkook. Just be home by dinner.

Thank you! ^^

“See?” Jungkook hummed after giving Taehyung a few seconds to skim the messages.

“Hm. Alright, then.” He said softly, motioning Jungkook into the apartment. “I wasn’t expecting you, though. I haven’t planned anything.”

“I know,” Jungkook said. “But once I finished my work, I wanted to see you as soon as possible. It’s okay if there’s nothing planned this time. I just couldn’t wait.” Taehyung couldn’t help but smile as he watched Jungkook head towards the couch, plopping himself down on the floor. He set a canvas on his lap, and Taehyung blinked.

“What on earth are you doing?” he asked, and two wide eyes turned over to look at him.

“…Getting ready to paint?” he asked, not too sure why that question was asked in the first place. Taehyung shook his head, motioning for the boy to stand up and follow him. Jungkook obeyed and followed Taehyung to the other side of the couch. He stood there while Taehyung went to the hall closet. When Jungkook walked over, Taehyung motioned to a bunch of easels. They were of varying sizes and thickness, for various sized canvases.

“Pick one,” Taehyung said simply. “Maybe one of the reasons you don’t paint with any passion is because you hunch yourself over your painting like a gremlin who just found a pile of gold.” When he heard Jungkook snort at that, he gave him a supportive tap on the shoulder. “I’ll go make us something to drink while you pick one out and find a spot.” He said and left to do just that.

            When Taehyung returned, Jungkook had settled himself up against the couch with one of his tinier canvases. “Alright,” Taehyung said, setting water beside Jungkook, before taking his seat on the couch. “Let’s start simple, I guess…What inspires you?”

            Jungkook pressed a finger to his chin and took a moment of silence to think. Taehyung simply sipped his drink, waiting for the younger boy to answer. “Well…” Jungkook began. “A lot of things, I guess.” He said. “But at the same time, nothing…” Taehyung couldn’t help but snicker.

            “Nothing?” Taehyung was in slight disbelief. “There has to be something. A color? A scent? A feeling? Certain people, or certain experiences.” Jungkook sighed softly, crossing his arms as if that would help him think harder. “Any of those things can make you feel inspired to put it into a painting.”

            “Yeah, I know, but I can’t think of anything. It’s like one of the moments when someone asks you for your favorite movie, and suddenly you forget every movie you had ever seen up until then.” Both boys chuckled at the comparison. “What inspires you, Hyung?” Taehyung pursed his lips as he racked his brain for something motivational and slightly inspiring to say.

            “My inspiration is weird. I fluctuate. Sometimes, I get inspired by the smell of something familiar and nostalgic. Other times, I get inspired by the idea of a dolphin.” He saw Jungkook smile a bit at the mention of the painting. “Certain people inspire me, I guess. One of my first works is a small picture of my friend and me that he keeps in his little work cubby. And-.” When Taehyung went silent, the pictures of his ever-developing sketches of you flashed in his head one by one. He had done a few of them, some more simple than others, and they lay hidden under his work station, in a spot only he now knew of. “Well, yeah…that’s about it.”

            Jungkook was more inquisitive than Taehyung gave him credit for, that much he had to admit. Jungkook studied his Hyung for a few moments, lips drew together. Taehyung raised an eyebrow.

            “Does Kai’s teacher give you inspiration?” He asked curiously. Taehyung felt his cheeks tint a light pink, and he sighed.

            “Uh…yeah, I guess so.” He muttered softly. “She has really good expressions, they help me practice with my proportions for when I draw people.” Jungkook nodded, though he wasn’t at all convinced. To be honest, Taehyung wasn’t either. Jungkook turned back to his picture.

            “Mr. Kim said their date was nice.”

            Taehyung responded with a simple “Yeah, I heard that too.”

            “It seems they both had a great time.”

            “Uh-huh…” Taehyung took another sip of his water. He had wished he grabbed himself a beer at this moment.

            “Forgive me for being nosey, but it seems you also want to ask her out on a date. You seem very fond of her, from what I’ve seen.”

            “…And just what exactly have you seen?” Taehyung asked curiously. Jungkook snorted.

            “Well, you wouldn’t have noticed I was staring at the Ilsan Art Festival because she had all of your attention the entire time. Also, the last time I came here, you gave me an hour lecture on why my boss shouldn’t be asking her out on dates. Not to mention those pictures I found of her that you were drawing, and-.”

            “Okay, okay, okay. You’ve made your point.” Taehyung scoffed. “I thought you came over here to paint, not interrogate my life.”

            “Well, I asked what inspired you.”

            “I feel you already knew the answer.” Taehyung huffed. Jungkook flashed a playfully devilish grin.

            “I did~.” Taehyung scoffed, and Jungkook looked back to his still blank canvas. “I wish I had someone special like that. Someone that inspired me.” Jungkook paused. “Well, you inspired me to start painting.” Taehyung offered Jungkook a now warmer smile.

            “Heh, thanks, kid.” He said, patting Jungkook’s back. He took another sip of his water as Jungkook dug into his bag, pulling out some paint. Taehyung watched him set it up on the coffee table.

            “I’m going to just start making something and see where it takes me.”

            “That’s a foolproof way to get some ideas. I do that all the time.” Taehyung watched as Jungkook set himself up, and began to paint.

            The living room was silent for a little while, just the sound of Jungkook humming, and the sound of the brush rubbing against the canvas, spreading its color wherever it fell. Taehyung, eventually, put some music on, music that he usually listened to when he wanted some inspiration. As Jungkook sat there and painted, Taehyung simply watched him. He had no idea what he was supposed to teach an incredibly talented kid. Passion was so abstract, so different and unique, there were only so many things he could say, and he said almost half of them already!

            Hate to disappoint the kid, but this whole student-mentor thing may not last as long as he thinks. He thought. Taehyung was so lost in thought, that he was startled when Jungkook hummed his name. He glanced over, seeing half the canvas was decorated in a deep-sea blue. Specs of lighter hues of blue decorated the area, while the rest of the canvas remained untouched for now.

            “Hyung?” Jungkook asked. “I hate to be a burden, but-.” He lifted his empty water glass. “Would I be able to get a refill?”

            “Huh? Oh sure.” Taehyung took the glass and headed into the kitchen, leaving Jungkook to continue working. As the water of the sink ran, filling up the contents of the glass, Taehyung sighed. His mind was racing, and he wanted to try to focus, but he couldn’t. Especially after Jungkook’s little stunt of interrogation just now, Taehyung’s mind felt as if it could explode at any given moment. He needed to get this off of his chest, and right now, Jungkook seemed to be the only person who was interested enough to offer some advice. “Never thought I would ask a damn senior in high school about dating advice.” He mumbled.

            When he headed back into the room, he saw Jungkook still painting intensely. He only stopped to accept the water when Taehyung offered it, smiling up at him as Taehyung simply plopped back down on his spot on the couch. He stared at Jungkook for a moment, watching as his paintbrush moved along the canvas once again. He had nothing to lose at this point.

            “What do you propose I do?” Taehyung asked. When Jungkook looked up, he watched Taehyung lay flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling from the couch. “About Kai’s teacher, I mean…How should I go about asking her out? I’m worried about being too straightforward by just asking.” Jungkook hummed, looking down at his picture.

            “Maybe she’ll be more interested if you ask her out in a unique way,” Jungkook suggested. “I know Mr. Kim just simply asked her each time. That’s fine, you know, but you don’t seem like the kind of guy who would do that.” Taehyung couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at that comment, choosing to take it as a compliment.

            “I can’t live up to Namjoon’s expensive parties or events, either. I don’t have that kind of money or even those kinds of connections.” He thought about Jimin for a moment, however, he had no intention of working that angle. Jimin had already sacrificed a lot for him over the years.

            “She doesn’t seem like she’s swayed by that.” Jungkook pointed out. “Mr. Kim told me that you said so yourself when he tried to buy that painting from you.” Taehyung thought back for a moment to that day in the hot Korean sun, standing up against the tall Kim Namjoon, who was waving his checkbook in the air like it was some sort of gold prize he had won. When Namjoon thought simply buying you an expensive gift was the key to your heart.

            You seem to think having a lot of money is the key to winning her over. She doesn’t seem like that kind of girl.

            “Yeah, you’re right.” Taehyung hummed, running a hand through his hair. He heard Jungkook sigh, and a familiar, more high-pitched sigh rang through his ears. Fuck, I’m doing it again. “Sorry, Jungkook.” He said softly, and from the corner of his eye, he saw the younger boy lookup. “I didn’t mean to talk against your boss so much. I realize a lot of people I tend to vent to now, are somehow tied into this whole thing.”

            “It’s okay, Hyung,” Jungkook said. “Mr. Kim is my boss, and treats me well, but I don’t mind hearing you out. You both seem to want the same thing, and that’s to make her happy. After you offered to help me out, I don’t mind listening to you vent a bit.” He then looked over to Taehyung fully, offering a grin. “But we can just keep it our little secret anyway~.” Taehyung now allowed a little laugh to erupt from his belly, his boxy grin flashing on his face. “Just ask her out in a way that’s unique to you. A way Mr. Kim could never think of doing.” Taehyung watched as Jungkook finally turned back to his painting and got back to work. As Taehyung watched him, his brain finally sparked an idea that then sparkled in his eyes. He quickly sat up, before heading off the couch and towards his desk. Jungkook glanced up. “What are you doing?”

            “I have an idea,” Taehyung said, plopping down. “Keep painting. Let me know if you need anything.” Jungkook watched as Taehyung searched his drawers, lips pulled together in a tight and focused line. Taehyung grabbed a set of colored pencils, and a piece of paper, before quickly hunching over his table and getting to work. Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched.

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            Though Taehyung ended up finishing his little idea in a few days, he wasn’t as eager to utilize it to its full potential just yet. He was nervous. He felt like he was in high school all over again, pining over the pretty upperclassman that he would see pass through the halls with her friends, as he desperately clutched a love note in his hands that he hoped that he could, with enough courage, give to her one day. The idea of being in a similar position, only now much older, was kind of terrifying. That was why an entire week passed by, his little canvas, about the size of an 8 x 5 picture frame, was tucked away safely in one of his drawers in his classroom, waiting patiently for its time to shine.

            As Taehyung sat in the classroom, looking up some ideas for interesting and innovative projects involving the method of the month, clay, Taehyung heard the sounds of the children down the hall. They were just coming back from lunch, which meant that it would be Taehyung’s time to shine soon. Everything for the day was prepared for the students, and he had his examples completed and sitting on his desk for him. They were going to learn the basics of pottery, in a way only preschoolers could understand. Which, in his time working here, meant they have 45 minutes to fuck around with their ball of clay and see what their imagination has them create. This was how it always ended up working out at the beginning of each new lesson, but the children never minded.

            Taehyung was busy scrolling when he heard a voice call his attention towards the door. “Taehyung, am I catching you slacking off?” When he looked up, he saw you, standing at the doorway with your hands on your hips. Your ponytail was high up, but as his eyes trailed from the top of the ponytail to the bottom, he saw it wrap around and rest on your shoulder.

            “You gonna tattle?” Taehyung asked, only half-kidding, though he did offer a smile. You laughed a bit.

            “The one time I have hard evidence of you slacking off and I can’t use it.”

            “Oh, and why not?” Taehyung hummed, standing up.

            “…I thought we were friends.” You said simply. Taehyung put his hands in his pockets. “I wouldn’t do that to a friend.”

            “…Right…” Taehyung hummed softly, feeling his heart began to beat at the gentleness in your voice. However, a playful smile formed on your face.

            “Guess we’re not, so all bets are off. Mr. Kim-!” You shouted playfully, turning your head to lean out into the hallway. Taehyung only got nervous for a second, because you quickly turned back to face him, laughing. “Kidding~.”

            “I know.” He scoffed. “Go back to work before I tell Mr. Kim you’re the one who is slacking off.” You laughed again.

            “I’m going, I’m going. Can’t a teacher ever go to the bathroom in peace?” You hummed. Taehyung was just about to wave you off when you looked back at him. “Hey.” Taehyung once again turned towards you. “I’m pretty caught up on work for now. Mind if I stay in here and help out?”

            “You sure you don’t need the time to rest?” he asked.

            A smile graced your lips once again, and Taehyung almost melted. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead. I heard we’re using clay today.” Taehyung only nodded in response. “I need to see it. Do you mind?”

            “Uh…no. No, not at all.” He said. “See you later then.” You smiled, waving him off before heading back down the hallway. Taehyung sighed, walking back to his desk and lifting the little canvas in his drawer. Today had to be the day that he made his move. It just felt right.

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            The day ended without much fuss, well, as much as a preschool can offer, and the children were outside playing on the playground. It was pretty cold, with winter beginning to roll in, so a lot of kids decided to simply sit on the benches with their coats and bags on. This only made them colder, and Hoseok tried to encourage them to run around, using their body heat to warm up, but they refused, choosing to sit and freeze on the bench instead of running with the rowdy boys. Taehyung had not come outside just yet, saying he had extra cleaning to do now that his room was full of clay. You didn’t pay the notion of any mind, knowing what it was like to have a messy classroom. However, what you did not know what that Taehyung had cleaned the room long before the day was close to ending, wanting to make sure that he psyched himself up enough to give you his little gift.

            Well, not give. More like a place on your desk while you weren’t in the room, then hide until you found him. You know, like back in high school. As Taehyung walked towards your empty classroom, he heard the distant sound of parents coming to the front gate to pick up their children. He knew you would be done soon, the cold normally encouraging parents to come by faster, so he didn’t have too much time. Scanning the area, he slipped into your room, canvas in hand. The room was a bit messy, most likely because Hoseok had yet to clean up after the kids left. As he walked to your desk, he set the canvas down right by the computer, where he knew you would see it. “All I have to do now is wait…” Taehyung whispered to himself. “I hope I don’t look like an idiot for this.” When he heard the sound of another muffled car engine stopping in the distance, the sounds of children shouting growing fainter and fainter, Taehyung returned to his classroom.

            “Bye Teacher! Bye, Mr. Hobi!” The last child, Kai, shouted eagerly as he took Jungkook’s hand. The high schooler, still dressed in his uniform, waved you both off as well.

            “Bye~.” You cheered happily, continuing to wave the boy off as he followed Jungkook down the street. You could hear him eagerly shouting about his day to his babysitter, who happily laughed and listened along until they were out of sight. “Aaaah.” You sighed, watching as Hoseok approached you. “Another day is done.”

            “Yep!” He grinned. The two of you headed back into the classroom, and Hoseok looked at you. “So Uhm, when do you think we’re going to make that little dinner and wine date you promise?” When you looked at him, he grinned. “I’ve been waiting for years.”

            “It’s been like a week.” You scoffed, nudging him. “But soon. How about next Friday night? I can do that.” Hoseok nodded.

            “Deal!” When he extended his hand, you wasted no time taking it, shaking a confirmation. “Yay, now I’m excited.”

            “I know you are.” You hummed, lifting your hands to fix your loosening ponytail. As you both headed back into the classroom, you offered a peek at Taehyung’s room. The door was closed, and there was no sign of life. “He must be still cleaning.”

            “The kids did kind of go crazy with the clay.” Hoseok sighed. “Want me to go in and help him?”

            “Nah, I’m sure he’s almost done.” You said. “When we finish, we can go check on him.” Both of you headed inside, and you made a beeline straight for your desk. “Why don’t we start with-?” before you could finish your sentence, a colorful canvas that was not there before caught your eye. Looking over, you saw a beautifully painted canvas, resembling that of a peaceful and serene hilltop. Flowers of all colors bloomed to contrast the vibrant green grass, and a beautiful yellow sun greeted the top of the hill like an old friend. On the hilltop, a picture of a lovely picnic blanket, and brown picnic basket sat, alone, as if it was waiting for people to gather around and enjoy the scenery. At the top of the picture, right along with the rays of the sun, a sentence was written in beautiful pastel colors:

            Want to go on a picnic with me?

            “What’s that?” Hoseok asked, walking over to the table. He got a glance at the picture before his eyes immediately went up to your face. Your cheeks were tinted a bit pink, and a soft smile graced your lips. Hoseok felt his heart was close to breaking in two, but he simply let out a gentle sigh, masking it as a simple exhale of breath. “That’s nice. Is it from Taehyung?”

            “I think so.” You hummed, flipping the canvas over to examine the back. You could see at the bottom, clear as day, his signature written in the top corner of the back of the frame. “I’m going to go talk to him. I’ll be right back.” Hoseok nodded, watching as you headed out the door of the classroom, the painting in your hands. When Hoseok was alone, he crossed his arms.

            “Alright, Taehyung, you win. I can’t beat that.” He hummed to himself, before walking to the supply closet and beginning to clean.

            Taehyung was talking to Jimin on his phone, hoping his friend could use logic to offset the irrational anxiousness that was coursing through his body.

            “The worst she can say is no, Taehyung,” Jimin said simply.

            “I don’t want her to think I’m weird.”

“She won’t,” Jimin assured. “I think what you did is romantic. I’d agree to go on a picnic if you did that for me.” Taehyung laughed a bit.

“I’ll remember that for next time.” He assured. Just then, a knock was heard at his door. “Crap.” He gasped his heart rate speeding up. “I’ll call you back, Jimin.” He assured, before quickly hanging up and spinning his chair around. “Come in.”

You opened the door and stepped inside. Taehyung immediately saw the canvas in your hands. “Hi.” He said.

 “This is cute.” You said, holding it up. “Are you trying to ask me something?”

“Uhm…yes?” Taehyung said sheepishly, coughing into his hands. He rose from his seat and walked over to you. “I know you’re like…doing whatever with Namjoon and that’s fine. I just…I don’t know. I wanted to like…invite you out.” You glanced down at the picture. “I can’t take you to fancy parties or big events, or nice restaurants like he can. But still, I just…I don’t know.”       

The idea of Taehyung asking you out on a date was…something you didn’t expect to happen. However, you were highly flattered. That flattery was mixed with a feeling of uneasiness, though. The idea of potentially being the center of a love triangle was…different, unfamiliar, and it made your chest tighten. This was the last thing you wanted to happen, with both Namjoon and Taehyung. However, denying Taehyung’s request when…you didn’t want too, seemed unfair, especially if you were accepting all of Namjoon’s requests.

 “…You could have just asked me.” You said simply.

“Yeah, I know. But I thought I should be…creative about it.” He chuckled a bit. You smiled along with him. “So is that a yes? You can pick the time and day, but I have the place and the picnic all planned out.”

“…I’ll look at my calendar when I get home, okay?” you smiled. Taehyung nodded, and you went to hand him back his painting.

“Hm? What are you doing? Keep it. I made it for you.” Taehyung said simply, pushing it gently back into your grasp. As you held it close to your chest, you felt a little set of butterflies bubble up in your chest.

It felt like you were back in high school.  

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[choupichoups]

Press F (Instagram/College AU) Ch.14

Eliott may be all that; rich, handsome, instagram famous— but the basic plebe inside comes out to play when his crush follows him from out of nowhere.

Or: Press F but Eliott’s POV

Parting is such sweet sorrow has gained a whole new meaning as Eliott stands in front of Lucas, bouncing back and forth on his heels in a bid to stall some more before he truly has to go. 

“You really don’t want me to stay with you until Yann comes back?” He finally pushes out the question, brows furrowing in concern despite the reassuring smile Lucas gives him. 

“I’ll be fine, Eliott.” Lucas picks Champ up from the ground when she starts spinning around in place, looking about ready to lay down and have a nap right at their feet. “Go see your mom.”

"I mean... she’ll probably survive one day without eating my dad’s cooking.” he reasons, pouting when Lucas gives him an exasperated look. 

“Bring your mom her rightful lunch, just like you told your dad you would. I don’t want there to be any reason for them to hate me.” 

“That’s impossible, they already love you.”

Lucas pauses, bottom lip caught behind his teeth as he looks up at Eliott uncertainly. “Really?”

Eliott softens, sighing out a quiet, “Really.” His hands move on their own accord, brushing against the line of Lucas’ jaw. He can’t imagine how a single person in this universe could ever be capable of hating Lucas. 

“Really, really?” 

“Really, really.”

“Cool. You really, really have to go now, though.” Lucas laughs, nuzzling into Eliott’s hands like that would help his case. 

“Okay, but if you need me for anything at all, you’ve gotta promise to tell me.” The grip he has on Lucas tightens just a little, firm enough to have his boyfriend tipping his head back to see the resolve in Eliott’s eyes. “I mean it. Anything.” 

Lucas can honestly ask him to do his grocery shopping right here right now and Eliott would undoubtedly agree. Hell, if Lucas tells him that the windows rattling from the wind bothers him, he’d drop everything and run back to him. Eliott has no qualms about the lengths he’d go to protect Lucas, to keep him feeling safe. 

Champ yips, gazing happily up at Eliott as a comfortable silence embraces them otherwise, the sight of Lucas’ precious smile warming the crystallizing fear creeping up on him. The mere prospect of leaving his boyfriend alone for hours until Yann gets back is frankly a no go in Eliott’s books but he understands that Lucas might need some space, and Eliott has his own responsibilities to uphold. 

Fuck if it doesn’t scare him, though. The atrocious start to their weekend has really done a number on him. 

“I promise,” Lucas whispers eventually, leaning up to kiss the beginnings of a frown off of Eliott’s lips. 

Eliott watches him carefully, running a thumb over the shadowed smudge under Lucas’ eyes. He’d waited until Lucas fell asleep first before slipping into dream land himself, but Lucas had already been awake by the time Eliott next opens his eyes— and Eliott is an early riser. He forces himself not to dwell on it, he had been privy to an offhanded comment about Lucas’ complicated relationship with sleep before so maybe this morning is nothing out of the ordinary. 

“Alright, I’ll see you later.” Stooping down for another kiss, Eliott lets this one linger a little longer, breathing in once they pull away and brushing a final kiss to Lucas’ forehead. He peels his hands off of him, squishing Champ’s tiny head in between his palms to make up for how his mind is screaming for him to hold on. “You’ll take care of him for me, right tough girl?” She licks his hands in enthusiastic answer. 

Lucas snorts out a laugh. “You take care, don’t miss your stop or you’ll get back too late.”  

“Yes, sir.” Eliott playfully salutes as he walks backwards, stopping just out of reach before he gestures towards Lucas’ still closed door. “Well? I’m not leaving until you’re inside.”

He’s expecting the eye roll that comes— it’s sweet and fond, familiar. The exact kind Eliott craves to soothe his fraying edges. 

Lucas turns around once he’s inside, grinning at Eliott and blowing an exaggerated kiss in his direction. It’s so ridiculous that Eliott’s laugh is ripped right out of him, loud and startled, echoing in the empty hallways, nipping at the sound of Lucas’ door shutting with a heavy bang. 

All alone, he finds himself despondent, kicking imaginary dirt off the floor as he trudges on with a pathetic pout. There’s no proper way to explain this feeling— they’ve literally almost managed to hole themselves up in Eliott’s apartment the entire weekend. It’s not like Eliott can help it, though, he did just get Lucas back and his needy little melodramatic heart misses his boyfriend for every minute they aren’t together.

He drags himself out of Lucas’ apartment building with visible difficulty, feet shuffling against the rough gravel below his feet all the way through his journey to the bus stop. 

It’s going to take him quite a while to get to his mother’s office without a car. Usually, his father has no problem dropping by himself, but he’d answered a favour for an old coworker out in Lyon and will probably be stuck there until the next morning. 

In a not so shocking turn of events, his mother forgets to take her ready packed lunch to work without his father being present to remind her of it. And obviously that’s an abomination, she can’t go without a homemade lunch Eliott, she’d get so hungry and her brain won’t be as sharp as usual, her work ethic would suffer because of it. Eliott had cut off his papa’s rambling with a groan and a reluctant agreement to bring the goddamn sandwich to its rightful owner just so the guy would stop worrying already. Hopeless romantic runs thick in the blood of the Demauries apparently. 

adam.fk plans today??

idrisomd sleep

abebkhellal oof yeah 

emir.yous buncha boring old men

omarions says you?? didn’t you spend fall break last year learning how to play chess lmao

emir. yous we don’t talk about that

idrisomd shut up emir not everyone is a free bird like you I was editing some stuff and I realized I need that dumb triangle still lol eliott can I borrow yours pls

emir.yous maybe if you don’t procrastinate you’d have more free time I thought you were keeping that triangle??

idrisomd maybe if you shut up you’d get more dates I had to sacrifice it for the greater good

Eliott laughs under his breath, contemplating whether he should add his two cents into the conversation. In the end, he keeps to himself for now, reading through the childish banter that inevitably starts up.

The triangle, huh. He’s glad the bus is mostly empty at present, else the giggling he can’t quite suppress would’ve probably worried some people. Fucking unbelievable, really. It’s ridiculous how it all started, now that he thinks about it. It feels like a lifetime has gone by since then.

Eliott still remembers it, vividly. That moment he set his eyes on Lucas. It’s the week before their new semester officially starts— a Thursday to be specific. He and his friends are scrambling around frantically attempting to maximize their remaining days of freedom to get ahead on his and Idris’ new film project.

“Props.”

“Props?”

“Yeah, we’re missing some props.”

Eliott struggles with the cardboard boxes he’s dragging behind him— they’re saving all the money they can by building the set for filming themselves. The rest of the guys get pulled into the fray, as always, so it’s a bit of a disaster when they’re all going around picking up stray cardboard and styrofoam just in case they need it for later.

“What’s the thing you were talking about earlier?” Abe snaps his fingers, trying to recall everything they need before leaving campus.

Idris jumps. “The triangle!”

“What do we need a triangle for?” Adam asks, fumbling with the styrofoam cups he’s balancing in one hand.

“For that one scene in the forest.”

“There’s a scene in the forest?” Omar pipes up from behind their circle, returning from the storage room where he’d gone to dig out some black garbage bags they can borrow.

“Well, it’s Emir’s backyard but whatever.” Eliott mutters, scratching things off of their checklist. “Can’t we just fake the triangle sounds?”

“Too much effort for a little scene. Don’t you have one at yours?”

“Yeah, but my place is out of the way, it’ll take too much time going there and then to Emir’s.” He shrugs, tapping the pen against his chin. “We can take the one from the theatre.”

Emir gives him a look. “We are not stealing the orchestra’s triangle.”

“Nobody will miss it,” Abe dismisses, already walking off to load their things in his car.

“What if someone tells the director it’s missing?”

“Emir, who would notice a missing triangle?” Idris raises his hands as he talks, incredulous at the question. “When you watch your classic live shows, do you hear anyone go oh, yes, the triangle was on point today? No you don’t, cause nobody gives a fuck about the goddamn triangle, man. Eliott, can you please grab us the triangle so we can get outta here?”

“If we get in trouble, I get plausible deniability,” Emir mumbles defiantly. Eliott snorts, patting Emir on the shoulder on his way out.

The theatre is only a short jog away from the parking lot so Eliott slips through the doors in no time, rooting around backstage for the instrument. He finds the little thing buried underneath a broken flute and a... tambourine?

Single piano notes echo along the walls without warning, and Eliott jumps from his crouch, heart beating fast from shock. He doesn’t run, though, because whoever is out there is obviously not going to spot him if they’re preoccupied with playing the piano.

He’s just about to leave again, grab his stolen goods and sneak his way back out, when the aimless piano notes begin to blend together with effortless flow, a sudden transition tickling his ears so pleasantly that Eliott can’t bring his feet to move along more than two steps at a time. Transfixed, he walks closer to the curtain, curious as to who would play such a beautiful melody so delicately.

Eliott has always wished life would be as easy as the films he's grown up watching— with twists and turns that cause crushing moments, yes, but with the comfort of a happy ending to cushion against the pain through it all. He’s always dreamt of something cliche to happen to him once in his life. Maybe he could win the lottery and live the rest of his life as a billionaire. Maybe he could meet someone so inspiring he’d gain the courage to pack up and explore the world with nothing but a boat and backpack. Maybe he could fall in love at first sight

The boy on the piano is turned sideways but Eliott can clearly see him from where he’s hidden behind the curtain. The smile on his face is plain adorable and the way he’s swinging his feet under the piano (he’s not even using the piano pedals and it still sounds so good) goes straight to Eliott’s heart.

His feet carry him forward, as if entranced, so helplessly drawn into the boy’s gravity—

“Stop,” the boy says, laughing. Eliott stops, startled. “You’re gonna ruin it, Yann,” his angel continues, head swinging to the side where another person who Eliott has apparently not seen is sitting.

The other guy, Yann, laughs too, picking up a violin. “No I swear, I can do it. I took classes once, remember?”

“Yeah, like ten years ago and you quit after two days.”

The two boys giggle at each other and the angel stops playing, attention fully on Yann. There’s a profound affection in the way they interact together, which makes glum little stones fall heavy against the bottom of Eliott’s stomach. 

Jesus, he needs to calm down. He doesn’t even know the boy’s name yet.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and Eliott’s glad he’s forgotten to put the ringer back on. He doesn’t know how he’d explain it if the two boys catch him skulking around backstage.

Eliott runs out of the theatre soon after, remembering how pressed for time he and the guys already are. He tries to put the thought of the boy behind him, making vague hand gestures in lieu of explaining what delayed his return when the guys question him.

He fails miserably.

The bus lurches and Eliott almost drops his phone, fingers grappling for a firm hold on the screen as it slips and slides from the abrupt movement. He still has the group chat with the guys open so the scrabble has him accidentally scrolling up, up, up around a month back.

When he looks down at the screen, he's taken right back to that delightful moment Lucas had unknowingly caused back then.

The doors open and close, one person exiting but a whole crowd entering right after. Eliott presses himself more comfortably into his back seat corner and settles a hand over his mouth, covering the widening grin stretching his lips as he reads through his own moronic words.

Good god, looking back on it now is hilarious, but Eliott will never forget the all consuming panic he’d felt at the time.

Eliott exits out of the chat, frantically scrolling down his barrage of notifications to stare reverently at the one that matters most. 

lucallemant started following you

It’s almost two hours past midnight, with him having just finished up the sketch for the side project he’s working on by himself. He’s been looking forward to falling into bed ages ago but now he’s wide awake, brain swirling with jumbled thoughts and with no hope of falling asleep within the next second.

srodulv when should I? should I wait til later?

adam.fk maybe wait til its not 2 in the morning lmfao

srodulv what if I wait too long and he unfollows

abebkhellal god almighty 😂😂😂 sorry bro no one can help u now

srodulv help me

emir.yous why does it matter? just follow him now

idrisomd he’s probably sleeping so he won’t know you’re a nocturnal beast

srodulv he won’t think that’s lame?

omarions he’ll eventually figure out how lame you are so might as well run with it

srodulv fuck off

idrisomd yeah man you can’t hide lame

emir.yous sorry we can’t help with that

abebkhellal rip

srodulv has left the chat

A bunch of useless hooligans, those guys are. He needs better friends.

His phone pings with more notifications— Idris has added him back in the group chat but Eliott ignores the messages for now, knowing full well that there’d be nothing but more of them poking fun at his current dilemma.

He opens up Lucas’ profile, heart palpitating as his thumb hovers over the follow button. Looking at the boy’s feed brings him the same mix of apprehension and fondness, as always. The latter because he’s an idiot who apparently falls head over heels for snippy little piano players and the former because, well—

I’m sorry, bro. I saw something, I think they’re maybe together? I’m still not a hundred percent on it, though.

Eliott sighs, clicking on Lucas’ latest post, of that guy playing the guitar for him. He scoffs, he can play the guitar too. He can even do the Star Wars theme song. On the guitar and the piano. Lucas needs to see that he’s the better choice over here.  

He lets his screen go dark, closing his eyes as he urges himself to relax. It is quite an ungodly hour to be awake so he drops his phone on the bed, turns over, and hopes that morning comes with a newfound game plan to get the love of his life to love him back.

The good news is that morning does come, but the bad news is that all the plans he comes up with throughout the day are steaming piles of shit. 

“I think I’m in love,” he blurts out, sitting in the basement of Emir’s house. Idris is standing on the couch, trying to cover the ceiling spotlights with printer paper so as to ‘dull’ its luminosity. Adam and Omar are struggling to hold up some desk lamps while Abe holds coloured file folders over the bulb, changing the colour of the lights for the correct ‘ambiance’. Emir is elbow deep in crushed styrofoam pieces.

They all exchange looks of confusion before Abe goes for a hesitant, “Uh... just now?”

Eliott scowls, waving a hand as if they’re so stupid to be unable to read his mind. He gestures to his phone, still open to Lucas’ Instagram page. 

"Oh yeah! Any progress on that front?” Idris hops down, eyes glued to the ceiling as he backs up, slowly as if one wrong move could shake the house so much that his pieces of paper would dislodge themselves. 

“No.” Eliott pouts, flailing his legs in unashamed frustration. 

“Okay, well, have you followed back?” Adam asks, twining some rope around the lamp once they’ve figured out the best angle to go with. 

“No. Shit,” Eliott hisses, sitting upright and immediately hitting the follow button. He’s been so focused on figuring out how to start a conversation with his angel that he’s neglected to think of much else.

One of them sighs, but Eliott doesn’t bother to look up at the sound of it. 

“So what are you gonna do next?” Emir abandons his crumbly work of art, now sitting cross legged across from Eliott. 

“He’s vague posting.” Idris grins, scrolling through his phone. “Ooh, Polaris. When did you even sneak off to take this? That caption though. Much mystery, so cool.” 

“Shut up, it’s an old picture.” Eliott throws a couch cushion at him, then proceeds to slide onto the floor, diving flat on his stomach closer to the guys, as he comes up with the most brilliant idea. “What if I’m not?”

“Huh?” Abe goes to sit on the floor as well.

“What if I’m not cool or mysterious? Would that get him to talk to me?” Eliott’s thumbs are working on overdrive before the words are fully out of his mouth, scrolling down each and every one of Lucas’ photos and hitting like on as many of them as he can manage. 

He looks up just it time to see the dawning realization on Abe’s face. “No!” he screams in horror, reaching out to snatch the phone from Eliott’s hands. “No, you— oh man, you guys, he did a weird thing.” 

“It’s not weird,” Eliott dismisses, trying to retrieve his phone back but every attempt is slapped away by the annoying people he unfortunately calls friends. “It’s called reaching out.”

Idris is cackling, bent over in half as Abe shakes his head in wonder. “That’s kinda genius, though? How very Eliott of you,” Idris gasps out once he’s done wheezing up a lung. 

“He’s getting the Eliott experience way too early in the relationship.” Omar mumbles, curiously going through the rest of Lucas’ older posts. “Aw, cute.” 

Eliott scrambles towards them, wanting to see which post Omar’s referring to despite the fact that he’s seen every single photo twice over. 

His hand slowly creeps up above the phone and double taps on the post.

“Oh my god, someone restrain him.” Adam says, dragging a hand down his face. He sounds like he’s trying his hardest not to laugh which is more than what he can say for the rest of them so Eliott appreciates his effort. 

“Come on, Eli monkey, time to break off from Insta for a bit, hm?” Idris walks forward, still chuckling as he tries to pull Eliott off the ground and away from his stolen phone.

Eliott wraps his arms around Idris’ ankles, almost making the latter fall on his face in the process. “But he’s so beautiful.”

“Yes, yes.”

“His eyelashes are the 8th wonder of the world.”

There’s a collective groan from everyone in the room and then Eliott feels a placating hand patting the top of his bowed head. “Yes, we get it. But you gotta get up now, lover boy. We‘ve got shit to film.”

By the time his stop comes up, Eliott has to squeeze himself past a godawful amount of passengers. He gets it’s break week for a lot of the students but considering it’s a Monday afternoon, Eliott is of the opinion that there really shouldn’t be this many people out and about. 

His mother’s office is a towering structure of reflective glass and one way windows. Eliott pushes at the revolving doors, nods a smile towards the reception desk, and settles into one of the many armchairs in the lounge area. He shoots a message for his mama to come meet him downstairs and doesn’t wait for a response before switching tabs to pull up the film he’s been wanting to see all day. Initially, he’s planned on seeing it with Lucas, knowing that it’s just the right amount of lengthy and boring (for his boyfriend’s taste) to have Lucas cuddling for a nap on his shoulder instead.

But alas, his plans are impeded by none other than his loving parents. Again. He still hasn’t quite forgiven them for poking fun at him being grumpy at brunch after that first night he’d spent with Lucas. 

About ten minutes in, someone walks towards him and sits directly across from Eliott’s armchair, never mind that the entire lounge area is devoid of any other person than the two of them. 

Eliott doesn’t pay it much mind, unmuting his phone speakers just loud enough for him to hear the background music coming from the film— he wants to record the sound and see if that kind of music score would work well for the mini project he’s planning to put up in the future. 

The stranger lets out a faint chuckle but Eliott ignores him, watching the minutes rise on the recording to make sure that he doesn’t miss a single note. Never let it be said that Eliott doesn’t take his films seriously. 

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Violence is never at the forefront of Eliott’s mind. In fact, he thinks it doesn’t solve much, and should be considered as the last resort. But as life would have it, there are always a few exceptions to the rule and unfortunately for his good mood, the sole exception he’s found in his twenty one years of existence has decided that today is the day that Eliott will commit murder. 

Eliott’s eyes flick to where Raphael relaxes back in his seat, legs crossed and fingers delicately twined in his lap— to any outside viewer, he truly looks the perfect representation of an educated, well-bred gentleman. Eliott sees why people are drawn him.

“Fancy isn’t the right word,” he says, just as casual. He pauses the film, music cutting off just in time for him to hear another one of Raphael’s grating chuckles. “Why are you here?” The answer is obvious; pressed slacks and dark suit a dead give away. He remembers Lucas mentioning that Raphael works in a law firm but Eliott needs to hear it, to make sure that fate has really handed this opportunity over on a silver platter. 

Raphael spreads his arms. “I work here,” he answers, smug. “What about you? Someone trying to pin murder on you?”

Funny how he’s asking that, but Eliott doesn’t answer his question. “New York too much for you, huh.” 

Eliott watches the minute narrowing of Raphael’s eyes, taking pleasure in the fact that the guy hasn’t expected Lucas to divulge their story in such detail. 

“New York was great, actually, they offered me a spot there as well but eh, I need to think about it.” Raphael leans forward, elbows on knees as he brings one hand up to rub across his lips, faux thoughtful. “I left a little something behind here.” He looks at Eliott, then, and the latter sees the fabricated warmth in his eyes freeze over, ice cold in barely restrained anger. “I want it back.” 

Don’t mess this up, Eliott reminds himself, fists clenching and unclenching as he reigns in his temper. How he’d love to feel the crunch of Raphael’s nose under his fists right now, but it’s not that kind of battle. Eliott only has one shot to play his cards right. 

“Cut the bullshit,” he responds, surprisingly calm. “Lucas isn’t yours to take back.”

Raphael laughs. “Why, he’s yours now?” 

Yes. “Neither. I’d appreciate it if you stop talking like he’s something to pass around.”

“How chivalrous of you.”

“I’m surprised you know what that means.” Eliott wants to say more, but he grits them back. There are more important things for him to needle out. “What with all the shit you put him through.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Raphael falls back into the cushions once more, infuriatingly unaffected. 

“Do you want an essay or a list?” 

“So quick to believe everything you’re told, are you? Did he cry and look at you with those big blue eyes? He does that all the time to get what he wants.” There’s a strain at the corners of Raphael’s eyes, nonchalant facade slipping down the longer Eliott stares on without a word. “You know there’s no evidence for any of these, right?” 

The quick dismissal of Lucas’ personal recounting almost does it for Eliott. But if Raphael is a master of manipulation then Eliott is of restraint— he won’t let Raphael win. “Yeah? You gonna tell that to the marks on his wrists?” 

Raphael scoffs, “That was an accident. Friday was a big misunderstanding, trust me. It’s called tough love, he likes it.” He smiles, obviously waiting for a reaction from Eliott but the latter maintains an impassive exterior. 

“It’s called assault.” He barely refrains from tagging on a spiteful fuckface at the end of that.

“Whoa there, that’s some heavy accusation you’re dropping!” Raphael laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Do you know who I am?” 

“A sad excuse of a man who takes advantage of vulnerable minors?” 

Raphael clicks his tongue. “You think you’re so perfect, huh?” 

“Far from it.” Eliott shrugs. “But I don’t hurt the people I’m supposed to love.” 

“Well aren’t you just the sweetest.” Sarcasm drips from Raphael’s words. “You think if we both stand here, right in front of Lucas, and make him choose.” He leans forward, a desperate glint in his eyes. “You’re positive he’d choose you? Cause let me tell you, Eliott, that boy is wired for my touch, for my voice, for my own to do as I please, and he will choose me no matter how much I hurt him. He will always come back to me and you can’t do shit about it.” 

Victory feels good when taken by a landslide. Eliott grins, and he sees confusion, frustration, and wariness warp Raphael’s carefully constructed expression into that of something… human. Human, unlike the impenetrable monster Lucas has painted inside his head. Human, who, despite the cunning and intelligence, very much fucks up like everyone else. And oh, has Raphael fucked up big time. 

“My turn,” Eliott says cheerfully, just to mess with the bastard even more. “Do you know who I am?” Slowly, so as to make sure that Raphael catches the movement, Eliott stops the recording on his phone. 

Raphael shoots up from his seat, panic dousing his face red all over before seething rage takes prominence. He hisses out a quiet, “Get rid of that, right fucking now. You don’t want to mess with me.”

Eliott stands, huffing out a small laugh as he notices that they’re of equal height. None of Raphael’s tactics has worked, or will ever work on him. “Nah, it’s the other way around.” 

“Eliott?” 

Georgine Eloise Demaury, part time managing partner of the law firm, part time vicious criminal prosecutor, and full time doting mother, makes a tall, intimidating figure in her navy suit and sky high heels. Her eyes are steel blue as they land on Eliott and Raphael alternatively. The red on her lips is a sharp scowl, striking against the paleness of her skin. 

Eliott presses his lips together, amused at the sight of what he fondly refers to as her working bitch face. She’s forbidden Eliott from visiting her at work too often just because he’s the only one capable of cracking her diabolical attorney persona. He keeps quiet, shrugging innocently when she raises a questioning eyebrow at him.

“Hi, mama.” 

He hears Raphael’s sharp intake of breath and fuck, that feels good.

Her lips twitch the slightest bit. “You two know each other?” 

“Just having a friendly chat,” Eliott says, looking over at Raphael with a tight smile. He relishes the startled loss he sees there. 

“I’m waiting on a call from Mr. Schutt,” Raphael says, rearranging his face, posture straightening under Georgine’s gaze. 

“And you?” She addresses Eliott this time. 

“I brought lunch?” Eliott gestures at his bag on the chair. “Papa got worried you’d starve when you told him you forgot it.” 

She rolls her eyes at her husband’s dramatics. “You didn’t have to come here.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to papa. You’re gonna have to eat it now, I ditched my boyfriend for this.”

“Ah, how’s Lucas? Come up to my office, you didn’t finish telling me how he’s doing last night,” she says, rigid frown compensating for the soft tone in her voice. Across from Eliott, Raphael flinches at the mention of Lucas’ name. “I need to grab something from IT and then I’ll be right there.” 

“Will do.” Eliott smiles, throwing his backpack over one shoulder when his mother walks away. He waits until the click clacking of her heels fade off completely before he turns to face Raphael. “So anyway, I suggest you think very hard about that offer in New York.” 

“You’re insane,” Raphael mutters behind clenched jaws. 

Years ago, that might have stung. Coming from someone else, it might still hurt. But as it is, Eliott revels in it. “You have no idea,” he says, raising his hand for the most condescending pat on the back he’s ever delivered before heading off to the elevators. 

Eliott ends up taking a long nap on his mother’s office couch, tired from interacting with Raphael and his stupid mind games. Sure, he’d come out on top of that one but lengthy confrontations are most definitely not Eliott’s cup of tea. He thinks if Raphael still has the audacity to show his face after that, Eliott will let loose of inhibitions and just start a proper fist fight. 

Recording their conversation had been a gut reaction— he’s not even sure it would help much if push comes to shove. But his mother has quite the terrifying track record and judging from Raphael’s reaction, he knows that too. He almost wishes for Raphael to do something stupid, to trip up the wire on Eliott’s half baked, convoluted plan to take him down permanently. The idea of delving into it scares him a little. He knows shit all about the justice system and Raphael is literally part of the goddamn system. 

Lucas wants to leave it to karma, and maybe he’s right.

But then Eliott remembers the tears streaming nonstop down Lucas’ face, the blank disconnect in his eyes throughout that night. His worn voice begging for Eliott not to let go. The hours spent in bed coaxing for an unresponsive Lucas to sleep just a little, I’m right here. The events of that night have taken permanent residence in his mind, painfully unwanted, but there to stay. 

lucallemant Eliott, I know I said I’d give you all the time you need And I mean it, you can have more right after this  But please, can you pick me up at work? I need you please Please

Call him dramatic all you want, but Eliott’s world comes apart when he reads Lucas’ pleading messages. His vision narrows, the path a blurred vignette, and time slows as if he’s thrown into the fucking matrix. Except there’s nothing exciting or amusing with this development, and his limbs work through honey as he turns and grabs a jacket, shoves his feet into mismatched shoes, and makes a run for it.

It’s not the messages itself that cost him his breath— though those do have him worried out of his mind, unable to even begin guessing as to what would scare Lucas enough to send them. It’s the timestamps that have his heart rattling with unease. The faint chanting of too late too late too late a mournful echo in his head. 

He pays no mind to it when he begins panting, head pounding as the freezing wind bites at him with heavy force, unbothered that he hasn’t eaten much for the past however long. He’s not going to stop until he reaches his destination. 

However, when he gets there, the cafe is dark and empty. You’re too late, the voice is screaming now. Eliott tells it to shut up, paces the area for a bit, and then checks inside the darkened alleyways. It’s empty. He walks the opposite direction, headed towards the parking lot— and there, that’s when he hears the hushed voice speaking.

Eliott swivels around, rushes towards the sound, and doesn’t allow himself to hesitate on the idea that it’s not Lucas trapped in between the wall and that man’s body. 

“Get the fuck off of him.” When he’s close enough, he shoves them apart, fighting against the urge to take Lucas in his arms right away. He has to get rid of the man first. The visceral clutch of anger simmers inside of him, a heat of gargantuan proportions boiling his blood. Eliott imagines this is what one would feel like just before committing a heinous crime.

His interaction with the stranger barely sticks to Eliott’s mind, more focused on the way Lucas presses close to his back. His hands shake with barely constrained fury but he doesn’t move, afraid Lucas will fall if Eliott isn’t there to hold him up. “You can fuck right off or I swear to god.”

The man raises his hands, chuckles ringing malicious as he shakes his head. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

Eliott doesn’t care for his cryptic bullshit. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” 

His smile is visible in the dark and Eliott’s been around enough of those with questionable morals to pinpoint the lack of kindness in it. “Fine.” He tilts his head as if to catch a final glimpse of Lucas but Eliott tucks Lucas in tight behind him— this guy doesn’t deserve to even look at him. 

When the sound of a car engine fades out, Eliott turns around, engulfing Lucas as best as he can, hoping that his embrace would provide a temporary shelter from it all. He knows it’s impossible, knows he can’t do much on his end other than watch with powerless clarity as painful sobs wrack the small body in his arms. He repeats a litany of apologies into Lucas’ hair. “I have you, I have you.” 

Their walk home is silence in its strangest form. Eliott realizes there’s something wrong, he can feel it at the tips of his fingers but he puts it down to Lucas gathering his thoughts and lets him be. 

“Lucas,” he says as the apartment comes into view. “I know we haven’t… I don’t… listen, can I stay with you for the night? I’ll sleep on the couch, anything, I just want to be there.”

Silence. 

Eliott bites his cheek, fidgeting nervously when Lucas continues to not say anything. He chances a glance at the boy beside him and sees him looking straight ahead, expression blank as if nothing’s been said.

“Thanks,” is all Lucas says once they reach the steps to the building, failing to acknowledge Eliott’s request.  

“Lucas, wait!” 

Unheard, just like the last time. 

There’s something really, really wrong. 

Eliott picks at his head, staring up at what he knows to be the window to Lucas’ apartment. He tells himself he’ll only wait until the lights flicker on, but seconds turn to minutes and the window remains dark. Chest tightening, Eliott changes his mind. He’ll wait until someone goes in or exits the building, will plant himself outside of Lucas’ door— he doesn’t care if Lucas or Yann don’t want to see his face right now, all he wants is to make sure that Lucas stays safe for the rest of the night. 

Except the next person to exit the doors is Lucas himself, Champ cradled in his arms. 

“Why are you not inside?” Eliott is familiar with the feeling of helplessness but it always pertains to his own mind, his own body. He’s rarely ever so taken off guard that he doesn’t know how to make it better for someone else. And yet here he stands, frozen with panic, speechless in the face of the one he loves most. 

Yann isn’t home, Lucas is hard-pressed on buying extra locks for their door, and there’s no way Eliott is letting him back inside the apartment all alone. 

“Lucas,” Eliott reaches out, wants nothing more than to cradle Lucas’ face in between his hands, but he’s afraid of what touching him would do. “Come back to me.” It sounds unsteady even to his own ears and maybe Eliott’s having a little trouble breathing, but he’s more desperate for Lucas to meet his eyes than worry about his next inhale. 

Lucas doesn’t. Come back to Eliott, that is. 

The entire walk up to his apartment, and then the walk back to Eliott’s are both filled with a strained distance that has nothing to do with physical proximity. Eliott’s no longer surprised when Lucas doesn’t answer any of his questions but he keeps firing off either way, hoping against all odds that something would click. But it doesn’t work that way, he knows. He, of all people, should know better. 

He tries again once they’re inside the safety of Eliott’s home. “Lucas, are you with me?” Eliott asks and he’s not. He’s not. 

Running out of options, Eliott’s hand hovers over his mom’s contact info, his dad’s, Idris’, Lucille’s— he just wants someone to tell him what to do. 

In the end he doesn’t get to call anyone, as a loud thud comes from the bathroom where he’d left Lucas and Eliott trips over himself in his rush, crashing into the kitchen counter, banging his arms against the potted plant hanging in the living room. 

But the pain from those clumsy little accidents is nothing compared to the sight of Lucas crying on the floor, blue eyes running red from the force of his tears. “Lucas?”

“Eliott.” His voice is so quiet, so broken that it takes Eliott down to his knees, colliding harshly against the tiled floors as he brings Lucas into the circle of his arms. Tears gather in the corners of Eliott’s eyes but he knows for certain that they’re not from the sting of his fall. 

“Don’t let me go back,” Lucas pleads, breath caught between one word and the other. 

“You’re never going back,” Eliott swears on his life. 

Lucas quiets down after what feels like hours upon hours of tears and stuttering breaths. Eliott knows he isn’t asleep, though— his wet lashes brush softly against the skin of Eliott’s neck for every blink. Left without much option, Eliott detangles their legs and carefully lifts Lucas into his arms, a mustard seed of hope swelling in his chest when Lucas twitches at the movement. There’s a pause as Eliott waits for the boy to protest, grumble for Eliott to put him down, he can walk on his own. 

It doesn’t come, so Eliott goes to tuck him into bed, receives no protest when he quietly dresses Lucas in the clothes he’s brought out. Lucas’ eyes remain downcast the entire time, immovable no matter how many times Eliott brushes a hand through his hair, wipes at the tear tracks smeared on his cheeks. 

Lucas doesn’t sleep until well past two in the morning. Eliott doesn’t sleep at all.

“You okay, honey?” 

His mama looks like a whole different person in private, Eliott’s always marvelled at her ability to switch off just like that. Her eyes are all clear skies and motherly affection, no trace of the savage G.E Demaury to be found as her hands card gently through his hair. 

He wants to tell her so badly, but this is Lucas’ story to share. Involving his parents to ask for help with anything is a foreign concept to Lucas and would make this a bit more complicated, yes, so Eliott will just have to wear patience like it’s going out of style. 

“Yeah,” he croaks out, still groggy from his nap. 

“Do you wanna wait for me to finish up here and I can drive you back?”

“Uh…” Eliott rubs his eyes, forcing his brain to catch up with his mama’s words. He checks his phone before answering, blinking while his eyes adjust to the brightness of his screen.

lucallemant Do you wanna come over for tonight? I know we were just together but It’s fine if you’re gonna be back too late though

He thinks he’s actually physically melting just from reading those. “It’s okay, I have to get going now.” 

srodulv If I didn’t fall asleep I’d be begging you to come over anyway

lucallemant You were asleep at your mom’s work??

srodulv 😂 See you soon  ♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️ ☹️ ♥️

lucallemant ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️ ♥️

srodulv 😊 ♥️

He stops to get some take out on the way, knowing Yann will be there and would most likely not be so chummy with Eliott after the whole thing from the past few weeks. He figures he can extend a truce through food— the way to a man’s heart and all. 

When he knocks on Lucas’ door, he hears a couple of thuds, some rapid, illegible whispering, and then the door finally opens only for Lucas to catapult himself into Eliott’s arms. The door slams shut behind him and Eliott might just be seeing things but he’s pretty sure that’s a glimpse of Yann’s unimpressed form standing on the other side of the door. 

“Hi,” Lucas breathes out, one arm slung around Eliott’s neck while the other is bent awkwardly behind him, holding onto the wriggling doorknob as if to keep a ravenous beast from escaping.

Uh oh.  

“Hi,” Eliott greets back. “On a scale of Champ to Jurassic Park, how scared should I be of Yann right now?” 

Lucas bites his lip and Eliott can’t help it— he kisses him before Lucas can respond. He means for it to be a chaste touch, but Lucas lets go of the knob (thankfully no longer rattling) and throws both arms around Eliott, pressing closer and opening his lips to deepen the kiss. Eliott lets himself indulge in it but is quickly brought back to reality when he tries to wrap both arms around Lucas only for the take out bag to hit Lucas’ ass with a dull thunk.

“Ow, what the fuck.” Lucas pulls away, spinning on the spot as he looks for the offender.

“Sorry,” Eliott laughs, lifting the bag. “I bought food. Peace offering.” 

“Oh my god, you’re so smart,” Lucas says, sounding genuinely pleased. “I apologize in advance though, he thinks he’s my dad sometimes.” 

“Damn right!” Yann shouts from behind the door. 

“Jesus.” Lucas mutters under his breath. “You ready?” 

Eliott nods, rehearsing the quick speech he’d made up in his head during the ride back to Lucas’ place. All that preparation’s for nothing, however, when all Yann does is look at him when the door finally opens. He looks at Eliott like he’d done weeks ago, when Eliott had taken Lucas home after the encounter with his father, unspoken understanding passing between the two of them as easy as that.

I technically have no right to be mad but I am, Yann’s usually kind eyes are hardened earth. There’ll be hell to pay if you pull that shit again, the look in them all but screams mistrust. 

Eliott nods, hoping Yann also understands his most sincere but wordless response— never again. 

The stare off probably only lasts a few seconds but to Eliott, it feels like an eternity before Yann’s eyes start to squint, one hand reaching for the take out bag that Eliott has stuck in the space between the two of them. Slowly, Yann takes a hold of it, snatches the bag from Eliott’s grip, and sniffs into it. He’s still squinting at Eliott as he walks backwards to take the food inside the kitchen.

“Okay, weird but blessedly silent. I’ll take it,” Lucas huffs, taking Eliott’s hand and dragging him past the living room and into the little hallway. Belatedly, Eliott realizes that they’re headed straight for the bedroom, Lucas marching them towards the door like a man on a mission. 

“Don’t you wanna eat?” Eliott asks, pulling back to slow Lucas down. “I bought that for you too.” 

“Later, I just,” Lucas pauses, his door already wide open once they reach it. “I have to ask you something.” 

Well that doesn’t sound foreboding at all. Eliott clears his throat. “Okay.” 

They arrange themselves on the foot of the bed, legs crossed and facing each other. When Lucas starts fidgeting, Eliott reaches over to intertwine their fingers together. 

“I know we joked about it before… or more like just yesterday actually… but uh,” Lucas starts, looking around the room to avoid meeting Eliott’s eyes head on. “So Marie’s home now and I’m taking Champ back to her on Thursday.”

“Okay,” Eliott says, smiling when Lucas discreetly looks at him from the corner of his eyes. 

“Okay, um.” Lucas takes a deep breath and spills the rest out on a long exhale. “My mom will be there too and I was wondering if you’d like to come?” He’s wincing by the time the question ends and Eliott, endeared, can only stare. “Maybe? You don’t have to. I understand if it’s too early or whatever—”

Eliott brings their tangled hands up to his lips and rains down kisses to the back of Lucas’ palms until he shuts up. 

“I’ll come,” he says, and then after a short silence continues with, “I’d love to.” 

Lucas’ relief is palpable. 

“Okay. That’s… that’s good.” 

“You’re cute when you’re all nervous like this,” Eliott teases, wanting to see Lucas’ smile. Sure, it’s only been a couple of minutes since he’s last seen it but Eliott’s one greedy motherfucker when comes to Lucas. 

“What?” The corner of Lucas’ lips tilts up, but it’s not quite the smile Eliott’s looking for.

“You’re all nice and cute when you’re nervous. No room for snarking or swearing at me.”

“Shut up.”

“Ah, it was good while it lasted.”

“Shut up!” Lucas laughs, kicking at Eliott’s knee.

“Oh you’re kicking me now too, my god, such violence from a tiny human.”

“You’re so dumb.” Lucas pushes at his shoulder and Eliott goes down easily, but not before winding an arm around Lucas so that his boyfriend falls on top of him in their descent. “Such an idiot.”

“Your idiot,” Eliott retorts as cheesily as can be, grinning when Lucas laughs again, eyes scrunched and mouth open. 

“God, do you ever shut up?” 

“Yeah, there’s one way to shut me up.” 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you’re really good at it.”

Lucas leans down and Eliott feels the smile on his lips. The kisses start off as innocent pecks, short and dry, until Lucas brushes their noses together and teases the tip of his tongue in between Eliott’s slightly parted lips. 

Eliott surges up then, locking their lips together as he moves, sitting upright with his arms still secured around Lucas. His boyfriend goes along with it, easily shuffling around so that he’s sat comfortably on Eliott’s lap, hands slightly cold against the back of Eliott’s neck, but the latter doesn’t mind— Lucas’ mouth is scorching enough to make up for it. 

His jacket gets tossed to the floor at some point and his hands wander inside Lucas’ hoodie, searching for the warmth of his skin under, encouraged by the way Lucas tightens his arms around Eliott’s shoulders when he runs a hand from the nape of Lucas’ neck down to the dip low on his back. The intensity reminds him of their first time— only slightly, because Eliott doesn’t think anything could come close to that night. But he recalls the warm weight of Lucas on his lap, against the wall, over him, under him. Recalls the way he’d jokingly asked Lucas how many fingers he’s holding up. How Lucas had very non jokingly slipped the two fingers in his mouth and licked around them until Eliott lost his mind.

The memory of it has heat rushing up and down Eliott’s body in frantic jolts, melting away his higher functions until he finally flips them over, gently laying Lucas down below him just like he’s always done. His fingers lightly dance along the line of Lucas' jeans and the latter lets him, Lucas’ hands exploring the wide expanse of Eliott’s back under his shirt. 

And that’s something new— not Lucas touching him no, but rather the confidence he exudes in bed. Eliott doesn’t think he’d ever forget the shakiness of Lucas’ breath, the furious drumming of his pulse, the flinches he’s tried so hard to cover up. Eliott’s noticed every single one of them, often pausing to suggest for them to stop only for Lucas to hold him by the sides of his face and mutter a determined, keep going.

Back then he couldn’t figure out if there’s a story behind it, or if Lucas is only nervous about being intimate with someone else. Now that he knows, can extrapolate the details from what Lucas has told him so far, Eliott’s heart is close to bursting with the realization of how much trust Lucas has placed in his hands that very first time. Of how much trust he continues to have in Eliott despite all that’s happened. 

I love you, his touch speaks, lingering and light over the smooth skin of Lucas’ waist.

I love you, his eyes repeat, insistent, hopeless, as they meet Lucas’ wide, adoring gaze.

I love you, his mouth whispers, soundless against the brush of Lucas’ lips, plush softness falling open under the gentle touch of Eliott’s tongue.

I love you, he wants to say, out loud, with all his anxious, fragile heart but what comes out instead is a nearly inaudible, “You’re so beautiful.” 

Maybe someday, he’ll be able to speak as it is. Someday, he’ll work up the courage to stop hiding behind soft touches and pretty words. But as Eliott opens his eyes on a slow blink, he looks down at Lucas and catches the most tender of smiles directed up at him. Maybe words aren’t needed right now. For Lucas, in this moment, maybe Eliott is enough. 

“No, you,” Lucas retorts childishly, arching up to press a giggle into Eliott’s amused smile. 

“This is a losing battle, baby.” Eliott nuzzles his cheeks, nose instinctively wrinkling when Lucas kisses the tip of it. The sweltering heat has cooled between them, replaced by a softer kind of warmth.

“Yeah, your losing battle,” Lucas says, trying to shift from under Eliott’s weight. “Baby,” he adds in a whisper, smile cheeky when Eliott’s head snaps up to look at him. He sputters, unfairly flustered at hearing Lucas use that pet name, any pet name in fact, for the first time—

“Are you being a brat?” Eliott tries to keep his voice stern, but he’s pretty sure his eyes give it away as Lucas dissolves into helpless giggles. “Are you being a brat?” he repeats a little louder, hands splayed widely over Lucas’ sides, curling up where his boyfriend is most ticklish.

“No!” But it’s too late, Eliott’s already found his weakest spots and proceeds with the attack, relentless despite Lucas’ half formed begging in between his laughter. “Eliott, no! Wait!” he squeaks, turning red when one of Eliott’s hands slide up to tickle at his neck. 

Eliott only stops when Lucas, breathless and teary-eyed, pouts pitifully up at him. Honestly, what human being with a heart could resist that? So he leans down and brings the jut of Lucas’ bottom lip in between his teeth, waiting until his boyfriend opens his mouth on a groan before diving in for a kiss. Lucas’ hands immediately tangle themselves into Eliott’s hair, legs pulling up to wrap around him as if Eliott has any batshit plans of leaving the bed any time soon. Eliott’s shirt is halfway off his back when Lucas’ door creaks open.

They barely let up, both expecting to see Yann coming to interrupt them for whatever reason but the entry way is empty. 

“What—” 

Soft, fast-paced panting is their answer and Eliott’s completely unprepared for when Lucas shoves him off the bed with all his might— Eliott hangs onto the sheets to keep from cracking his head open.

“Oh shit, sorry!” Lucas shouts, dragging Eliott back up to the center of the bed. “I just— Champ’s just a baby, she can’t see that!” 

Eliott doesn’t know whether to agree or laugh. He figures responding with a deadpan she’s just a dog won’t go over too well with Lucas so he keeps that thought to himself. With a sigh, Eliott smooths down his shirt and walks over to where Champ is still panting happily up at them. 

“Are you happy now?” He asks the dog, crouching closer to her level and tapping her tiny nose with a finger. He carries her in his arms on his way out to the living room, turning back to see Lucas attempting to fix his hair as if Yann doesn’t already know what they’ve been up to, alone in the room for at least half an hour. “Come on, baby, let’s keep Yann company before he decides to take back my rights.” 

[banesbottombitch]

Henry Gets A Haircut Hcs pt 1

Got a curious pm this morning asking if I would do a few, and tbh, I’m game. Heres stuff that might be mentioned, or might not, in Henry Gets A Haircut, that are always on my mind. These are long. Whoops.

Henry’s got a wicked as fuck tan in the summer, and gets a field of freckles over his cheeks. The reader thinks they are adorable and assures him they’ll rake in the ladies, but he is 11/10 self conscious about them.

Belch spent middle school and his first year of high school in baseball, but got tired of the sport and switched to wrestling for a season, then football- where he found a calling. no one can knock that boy on his ass. He is a tank. A monster. His nickname on the team is “Hulk”, and he has gotten scholarships from his impressive game.

Vic listens to Post Malone, and if you think the gang doesn't rip on him CONSTANTLY for that, you are wrong. the funniest remark  so far is by the reader, who said; “Post looks like how a fart smells.” 

Patrick had to attend dance and piano lessons as a child and he has war flashbacks anytime someone tinkers with piano keys or he sees one of COUNTLESS photos Angela has of him dancing at church get togethers. It is well known not to mention this in the group- but you know Henry has busted his ass over it several times.

Vic attends dance classes four days out the week. Two days are hiphop and rhythm style dance, the other two are classic ballroom. He did ballet for one year but Henry found out and ragged on him for MONTHS. He lived it down senior year, but it was hell for a while- especially when Henry made gross comments on him being a ‘faggot’.

Vic is genderqueer masc, uses he/him pronouns and is Bisexual. The reader knows, but the other guys are in the dark, and he intends to keep it that way for as along as he can.

Patrick is Pansexual. He has slept with just as many boys as girls, and could care less if his bed partner used specific pronouns or what was in their pants. He can make it work no matter what.

Angela and Charles Hockstetter met at the University of Maine and expect Patrick to attend their college.

Additionally, in Henry Gets A Haircut, Charles owns a well managed paint and home supply chain of stores that are throughout Penobscot county, while Angela is a prosecuting attorney who works in Bangor.

The Reader and Vic live in the wealthiest part of town and have been friends since infancy. Their parents met long before either child was born, and they were raised alongside each other. Vic attended camp every summer until eighth grade and the reader followed after him happily, whether it was theater camp (nice, Victor.) or regular old summer camp.

The reader isn't close with her mother, but likes her father enough. Her mother dislikes Henry, Belch and Patrick, while her father happily welcomes the boys. Her parents have a very off handed style of parenting, and their handling shows with her impulsive and attention seeking actions of going out with dangerous boys and throwing herself into parties at random- but as long as she comes home and keeps good grades, they dont seem to care what she does.

The Reader is terrified of Butch Bowers, and has seen him openly threaten his son before. The gang kind of shrugs it off, but she sees how much it tears him up, and any times she has tried to reach out to him over it, Henry builds a wall.

Belch has the best relationship with Henry and Vic, sometimes feeling isolated by how close Patrick and the reader are. He loves them both, yes, but always knew that they had something different between them than the rest of the gang. He’s relieved that they’re dating, but worried all the same.

The gang loves music, this is a given. They are all comfortable enough with each other to sing (given, if there is alcohol involved) together. The Reader and Vic know every lyric to Intergalactic by Beastie Boys and scream sing it often if drunk together. Henry and Belch rock the fuck out to Iron Man by Black Sabbath and (though they will NEVER admit this) You Give Love a Bad Name by Bon Jovi. Patrick knows every word to Dont You Want Me By the Human League and can be found humming the tune absently. Patrick and Vic both enjoy anything by Lil Peep and have no shame in singing any of his songs at the weekend bonfires.

Patrick’s avid music collection hosts several songs he would attribute to the Reader. Because I know y’all are sluts for some Pat/reader content, I’ll tell you a few; Minerva by Deftones, Anything Anything by Dramarama, Bizarre Love Triangle by New Order, and Spotlight by Lil Peep.

The Reader has a car, as does Patrick. Vic used to, but he totaled it in junior year. Henry is the only one in the group without a car or license. 

Bonus!!! NPC stuff!!!

Ryan Burns, Dylan Pram, Cole Harris, Gretta Bowie and Donnie Parker have all been mentioned in my previous works, as well as Donut Dans and the Burns Diner (though the Burns diner was not referenced by name, only by style.)

Ryan Burns is pure and innocent and can do no wrong. He is also closeted and is in love with his best friend, Donnie Parker. Ryan wants to go to state on a track scholarship and do political studies and become a local politician. Sweet Bean. Protect him.

Dylan Pram is too stupid to think for himself. Cole Harris is a college dorm predator in the making and has zero redeemable qualities. These two rival the Bowers Gang in term of reckless bullying and have butted heads with Patrick and Henry on numerous occasions. Patrick would murder Harris if he could.

Donnie Parker is shy, reserved, but very genuine. He is mentioned in When You’re Strange, and will be a recurring face in the series (once i get back to writing it)! He likes classic hot rod cars, and has a good relationship with Belch after playing baseball with him in middle school.

Gretta Bowie and the Reader aren’t friends, but aren’t enemies either. They play nice, and it works. Gretta is also Carly’s best friend, but Carly greatly dislikes her.

Carly Henderson and Henry were in the same seventh, eighth and ninth grade classes back to back. They were on decently friendly terms until junior year, when Carly and Henry met up at a party and kissed. It spiraled from there.

[twistedrunes]

All of the # prompts for Tommy!

WOW!! Okay, buckle up peeps!! I have copied and pasted any I have done previously. 

1) Their favourite time of year: Yeah, so the mid-winter. But not for the reason you might think - it’s mostly to do with the clothes. It’s hard to look sophisticated, and well dressed in shorts and a T-shirt

2) If they like reading, and if so their favourite book: He does read, generally only when his head is too much of a mess and he can’t sleep. His fav book is by his friend Winston Churchill - The Boer War. Likes to study the strategies that worked and what didn’t.

3) Their favourite type of landscape: Outside, lots of fresh air, it’s easier to breathe. Green lots of green. No quagmires of disgusting blood-soaked mud, sucking men down, with trenches scarring the landscape. Definitely no tunnels or caves. 

4) Their favourite way to waste time: Tommy doesn’t waste time. He’s too busy. Probably the closest he gets to ‘wasting time.’ Is fucking and reading. 

5) Their favourite type of music: Grace singing - doesn’t matter what. Oh and he really likes that Nick Cave song - Red Right Hand

6) Hobbies  Honestly he’s just too busy. But he would go horse riding when he had the time. 

7) Their happiest memory  Seeing Charlie for the first time. Grace looked so beautiful and was such a natural mum. Charlie was so little and perfect Tommy couldn’t believe he had made something so pure and beautiful. Charlie grabbed his finger and wouldn’t let go. 

8) Their most embarrassing moment  In junior school he got into trouble, basically for being a Shelby and his father came down to have it out with the teacher. Drunk. Mr Shelby tried to hit the teacher and missed and fell down. His teacher never let him forget.  

9) A cute best friend moment: Um, chasing his brother around a fountain at his wedding?!

10) Their best childhood memory:  When Ada was born. Finally a little sister. He used to sit next to her bassinette and watch her sleep. She was just so little and sweet. 

11) An awkward moment That time when Grace and Mary met each other in the bar. 

12) If they have blemishes and how they got them He had a rising sun tattoo on his chest during the to remind him the sun always rises, his mother’s name in a star on his arm. The scars - honestly even he doesn’t remember where they all came from. (sorry this one’s tricky)

13) Their biggest regret  Grace - he knows it was his fault she was killed. He will never forgive himself

14) Their biggest fear That it’s all for nothing. Grace dying. Charlie being taken. The vendetta. John’s death. Everything. 

15) Any nervous tics they may have Not so much a tic as a need. Does not like to be still. Always needs to be either physically or mentally moving.  

16) Their calming techniques  Smoking. It’s not healthy but, hey. It acts as a mental distraction and it’s something to do with his hands. 

17) How they cope with nightmares  Doesn’t. Just doesn’t. Avoiding sleep and alcohol. 

18) Their most prized possession  Cigarette case. Grace gave it to him for Christmas. 

19) One thing they can’t live without Charlie. If something were to happen to the boy it would just be the end of him. 

20) If they collect things – if so, what:   Bodies, enemies, mistresses, horses, illegitimate children, vendetta’s, Gin recipes, repressed memories, honours, businesses, suits, 

21) What kind of keepsakes do they have Photos of Grace and the rest of the family. Some letters from Gretta. 

22) What they think is the most important sense  I’ve been a bit liberal with the definition of sense. A sense of timing. Plans are all well and good but you need to know when the best time to execute them is. 

23) If they know any other languages  I think he would have learnt some of the South African languages (Afrikaans, Tswana, Zulu, Xhosa, Venda and Northern and Southern Sotho) from the other clay kickers. In addition to English and Romani. Possibly horse and dog too. 

24) If they have a good luck charm, if so what it is and why it’s important It’s a horseshoe, embossed on a small disc of copper, made by Arthur out of some old artillery casings.  Made it in France, had it on him when he got buried, Arthur had made the other two who survived ones too. Had a jeweller put it on the inside of the cover of his fob watch, that way it’s always with him. 

25) How they spend rainy days Like any other, it’s only water. 

26) If they’re a doodler or a writer  Doodles. Mostly triangles and squares and horseshoes. 

27) How they sleep:  Tommy doesn’t. Churchill learnt how to power nap from Tommy. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” 

28) How they hug Stiffly at first. It’s standing still, he doesn’t really like that. Then he’d relax into it a bit more, face buried in your hair. Eyes closed. 

29) How they express love (platonically and/or romantically):  Time. Tommy shows he loves you by giving you time. And if you’re his wife (or mistress) or child expensive and excessive gifts. 

30) A skill that they’d love to have  He would have loved to be a jockey. As short as he is, he’s still too tall to be a jockey. 

31) If they found out they only had a day left to live, how they would use that time He truly believes that every day could be his last so he would carry on, as usual, making plans, looking after the family. Kissing Charlie Goodnight. 

32) If they were faced with a genie what they’d use their three wishes for and why (So I’m employing the Disney Genie rules here - no one comes back from the dead) 1.Money 2. Power 3. Influence

33) If they were offered immortally would they take it and why  A tough one and I think he would be torn himself. Part of him would want an end to the mental torment and perhaps he could actually get some sleep and would hope he could be reunited with Grace. But he’s ambitious and he’d feel like he needed to look after whichever of his family chose to stay. 

34) If they had a spirit animal what form do they think it would take. No question it would be a horse. 

35) Crossover things (e.g. which Hogwarts house would they be in, or what would their role be in a zombie apocalypse)

Hogwarts House: Slytherin (Ambition, cunning, self-preservation, cleverness and fraternity but he thinks he’s Gryffindor - he thinks his motives are purer than they are)

MCU Superpowers: Fear Manipulation like the Scarlet Witch. He knows how your mind can be your biggest enemy. Magic - “I can charm dogs (and horses). Gypsy witchcraft” like Loki

While not specifically a superpower I think he’d identify with Tony Stark (Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist). I made these all Avengers didn’t mean to but you know they’re both families (of sorts, who fell out and got back together, hurt each other, hmmmm more than one similarity there!)

Prompt list here - doing these all weekend so feel free to send one in.

Do you agree? Disagree? Have an idea you want me to do? Send me an ask.Interested in my other work? Find them on my MASTERLIST

[hornsbeforehalos]

Whiskey, Sweetheart: Part 2

Pairing: Norman Reedus x OFC, Past JDM x OFC Warnings: RPF, Language, Breif Violence, Jealousy, Angsty.

Series Masterlist

Summary: After Jeffrey’s neglect pushed her away and into the arms of his best friend, Norman and Ky have to figure out if their new relationship can withstand not only the aftermath of the unspeakable crime they commited to keep her safe, but the backlash that comes from being co-workers with a very betrayed Jeffrey Dean Morgan.

A/n: This is the Sequel to Anytime, Sweetheart and The Conquests of Norman Reedus. You’ll probably be a bit confused if you haven’t read Conquests yet, though, or at least the Finale, but you could probably figure it out on your own if you don’t want to. But I don’t see why you wouldn’t want to, lol.

A-S Tags, (please let me know if you want to be untagged for this series.)

@elinyaes   @jml509  @jesbakescookies @daddy-kink-confirmed @aquivercactus   @xagateophobiax @sorenmarie87@missghoul18 @jdmfanfiction @jeffreydeanneganstrash @through-thesilver-lining @beffyblueeyes @docharleythegeekqueen @make-things-beautiful2 @srj1990  @dragongirl420  @reedusteinrambles  @youandyourstupidrope @addiction-survivor25 @fireheartart @redm81 foreveror-never @zombeeemomeee @blacklightguidesnic @jackybehappy @jodiereedus22

“You mind filling me in on what the fuck is going on?” Vicky demanded through her end of the phone, earning her an eye roll from me. “Uh, shit happens?” I replied, cringing at her tone as I continued to pack up my things into my suitcase. “Kylin.” She said, a motherly tone to her voice as if she as speaking to one of her kids. “Victoria.” I answered simply, pretending like I didn’t know any better. “Was it good?” “Of course it was, you think he would be bad?” I snorted in reply. “I haven’t ever thought about it.” She said matter-of-factually. “Lyin’s a sin, Vic.” My eyebrow quirked in amusement. “Yeah and so is sex before marriage, but here we are.” She deadpanned. “I worry about you sometimes.” “So, how big is it?” “How big is what?” I retorted innocently. “The dick” “Who’s dick?” “Who’s dick have you been fucking? Jesus!” “Jesus Christ. It’s big okay?” “Bigger than Jeff’s?” “I’m not disclosing that information.” “Fuck you, I’ll find out, one way or another.” “Any fucking way, you’re still picking me up from the airport, right?” “Yes ‘mam, even though I really don’t know why you’re coming back here when you’re going back next week and then having to come all the way back here for the con.” “Because I like jet lag, I guess. I don’t know, seemed like the thing to do at the time.” “Kinda like Norman?” “I’m gonna kill you.” I chuckled, shaking my head as I zipped the the bag closed. “No you’re not.” “I’m hanging up the phone now.” “So what happened?”

“Drama, Vic, fucking drama.” I sighed as I went into the tale of Jeffrey missing my birthday and Norman being there to pick up the pieces. I let the tears flow as she comforted me in true Vicky fashion, promising me that the next time she’d see Jeff she was gonna pop him in the back of the head. “What a dick, dude. I mean, obviously you’re gonna need him to be by your side while you cope with what happened, I mean, I wouldn’t be able to be as calm about shit as you are.” Vicky griped. The fact that I had actually murdered someone stayed a secret between our small group. It was kept from Josh and our parents, not wanting anymore people to be involved than needed. “That’s what I’m saying, Vic, he wouldn’t even talk to me. He’d call me and it’d be quick little ‘Love you, byes’ and I’m supposed to be okay with that? After everything that that psycho did to me? It’s like something switched inside of him or something.” “Maybe he feels like he failed you.” “He did! He kept telling me that he was handling it but never did, and then he can’t even be there for me afterwards? That’s not how it’s supposed to work!” “And Norm’s been there?” “Yes, girl, yes. He’s called me almost every single day to check on me since it happened. He cancelled shit to be there for my birthday.” “He’s always had a crush on you.” “Everyone keeps telling me that, but I never seen it.” “You have a tattoo for him, of course he likes you.” “It’s not just for him, Vic,” I rolled my eyes. “Oh yeah, him and his other incredibly hawwwwwt co-star” “You’re married, Vic” “To your brother’s incredibly hawwwwt boy toy, yes, I’ve been informed.” “Jesus Christ-” “Had nothing to do with it. Now, what are you two doing about this situation?” “Playing it cool, I guess, until shit calms down.” I shrugged, not really sure myself. “You really think Jeff is gonna let that happen?” “Fuck no. I know him better'n that.” Another snort left my lips as I collapsed on my childhood bed. “Exactly. How are you going to deal with San Diego?” “Stay as close as possible to Misha as I possibly can.” I replied like it was the easiest thing in the world. “Like that’s gonna work.” I sighed, my lips flapping together with the motion, “I don’t know, dude, it’s not like I’m going to be able to avoid him all weekend if I want even a moment to spend with Norm, but…I don’t really know. This is all so fuckin’ messy.” “That’s what happens when you get yourself into a love triangle.”

“I didn’t ask for this, you know.” “No, but you didn’t want to be with Jeffrey anymore, and you drunkenly slept with his best friend and co-worker and now if you want to continue sleeping with said best friend and co-worker you’ve gotta figure your shit out. It’s gonna be ‘messy,’ Ky. It’s gonna get fucking nasty, I’d put money on it. He’s not gonna let this be a easy thing for you.” “I knowwww.” I groaned. “Well, bite the bullet and figure it out.

“The Walking Dead star Norman Reedus was arrested yesterday in Manhattan after an altercation with a paparazzi photographer for the New York Times. A police officer witness the assault and immediately placed Reedus into custody. No charges have been pressed and Mr. Reedus was released early this morning.” Happy Fucking Thanksgiving to me.

“Real good job at pickin’ boyfriends, sis” Jensen rolled his eyes as our father flicked off the TV screen before returning to his duty of cutting the Turkey “Fuck youuuu, brother,” I sang back with my eyes rolling, “Dude was prolly an ass or something.” “I thought you were with Jeffrey, sweetheart?” My dad questioned, brows furrowed as he sliced through the meat of the bird. “Shut the hell up, Alan.” My mother hissed and swatted at him with a dish towel, shaking her head at him before turning to me, “Ignore the ignorant men, baby,” “I always do.” I snorted in return, helping myself to the mashed potatoes Dani had past me.

“Wonder what happened,” She said curiously, passing her plate to me so Dad could load it full of Turkey. “Who the hell knows man, everywhere he goes he’s swarmed.” I shrugged, waiting patienly as the plates made their rounds before everyone settled down for Grace. The rest of the dinner was quiet and simple, conversation drifting to Jensen and the show until the meal was done and the men retired to the living room for the rest of the afternoon to be filled with football and beer. I feigned tiredness and made my own way up to my old bedroom, collapsing in the messy sheets to throw my arm over my eyes at the same time my phone started to buzz. “Hello?” I groaned as pressed the phone to my face, not even looking to see who it was. “Well hello to you too, jeeze” Norman chuckled through the speaker. “How you doin’, Jailbird?” I teased, smirk playing on my lips. “Heard about that, did ya?” He chuckled back. “You were on the news.” “Offff course I was.” “Sooo….what did you do?” “Punch a guy in his face for talking shit.” He answered simply, probably shrugging his shoulders. “About?” “You.” “Norman!” “What?” “You can’t just go around punching people!” “The dude was a dick, I’m not even gonna repeat what he said about you.” “It doesn’t matter what he said about me, babe! I don’t care! People have been saying shit about me since I started going to conventions again.” “You shouldn’t have to put up with that shit.” “I’m an easy target, I guess, I don’t fuckin’ know. It’s the price you pay to be dating a celebrity. People are gonna talk shit, especially with once people figure out about us. It’s just going to get worse.” “I won’t let it.” “It’s not gonna be a thing anyone lets happen, Normie.” He sighed, giving up because he knew I was right. I smiled into the phone at the sound of him huffing, giggle coming past my lips at the thought that he was trying to be sweet. “You’re cute, you know that?” I snorted at him. “Whatever,” He quirked back, and I envisioned him blushing on the other side of the phone. “You excited about the convention?” “I’m excited about seeing you.” “See, look at you, being all cute.” “Stop.” “Never.” “Whatever,” He chucked, “Do I get to kiss you when I see you?” “Is that even a question?” “Well?” “If you don’t then I’ll be severely disappointed.” “That’s my girl.” “Mmmm,” I hummed as the smile on my face widened at the use of the term 'his.’ It felt good, right, sweet. I genuinely  missed him, even if it had only been a week apart. Jeff and I had become accustomed to being apart from each other so the yearning eventually got easier to deal with, but this was new and fresh and my heart almost literally ached at the sound of his voice. “I miss you.” He rasped lowly, almost whispering, “Can’t wait to see you.” “I miss you too,” I mimicked back, rolling over into my bed to lay on my stomach, “So much.” “It’s not gonna be easy to keep myself composed 'round you, you know that?” He breathed, enticing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. “You’re just gonna have to figure it out,” I giggled, smug smirk playing up my tone of voice. “You’ll have to figure it out with me, love, might need some assistance.” He purred, voice rough and gravely as he pressed his lips closer to the speaker, “If you know what I mean.” “Mr. Reedus, you are not very nice.” I whined. “Never said I was.” He growled, voice dropping even lower as the cuteness I’d been talking about moments before disappeared. “Fucking Christ.” “Awhh, am I getting to you sweetheart?” “Fuck you,” “That’s the plan, hun.” he chuckled darkly. “Are you meeting me at the airport in San Diego?” “That’s also the plan. Our planes land at basically the same time.” “Manuevering through that mess will probably be fun.” “Oh, I’m sure it will be.” He gave another laugh. I giggled in response to him as my door opened and Dani appeared, quietly stepping in and closing it behind her before crawling into bed with me. I rolled my eyes at her as she looked at me knowingly, just waiting on me to get off the phone so she could drill me with questions. “Hey, babe, I gotta go. Best friend walked in and she’s got that look in her eye.” “Ooooh what kinda look? Am I missing out on some sister-in-law fun?” “You’re disgusting.” “You love it. I’ll talk to you later, Whiskey.” “Bye, babe.” I rolled over to face Danneel as she propped herself up on her fists, elbows burried in the covers. “Sooooo, spill, bitch.” “I don’t understand that reference.” I deadpanned with a smirk. “How are y'all gonna deal with Jeff this weekend?” “Avoid, avoid, avoid.” “All weekend? Norman’s gotta pannel with him, doesn’t he?” “Pretty sure. That should be interesting. “What are you gonna do if Jeff says anything about it?” “I honestly have no idea, and I’m nervous as fuck about it. I know he’s gonna start some shit, Dan, I just don’t know how or when.” “Maybe he won’t.” I cocked an eyebrow at her sarcastically, she shrugged in reply. “Are you and Norm going public about eveyrhting yet?” “Not until we figure out what Jeff is gonna do. We’re gonna attempt to keep as low key as possible but…” “Yeah, we’ll see how that goes.” “That’s what I keep saying,” I sighed, running my fingers through my hair with annoyance, It’s gonna get worse before it gets better I guess.“ "Do you think it’s even really worth it?” I exhaled deeply again, crawling out of my bed slowly and cracking the window to my room. I dug around in my purse and found my cigarettes and sat on the window seal and lit one.

“You do.” She smiled.

“I do.” I let the plume of smoke filter out of my mouth as I looked at her, her eyes wide for a moment before she curled her lips into a smile and got up to prance towards me. “If he makes you happy, I’m all for it. Just be sure you’re 100 percent done with Jeff before anything gets serious with him. Don’t wanna lose more friends then you need to, you know? Be careful and take care of yourself” She cupped my cheek and moved her thumb over my cheekbone as she stole the cigarette from my fingers to take a drag, returning it to me on her exhale. “I’ve tried to be careful this entire time. All it got me was a fucked up relationship again and another broken heart. I loved Jeffrey with all of me. Fuck, I know I wasn’t perfect, but damn, it’s like he just stopped caring.” “I know, Ky. I know. After everything with Anthony… I just don’t think he was ready to deal with that.” I nodded in understanding, “I get it, I really do, but he should have been honest with me.” “Of course he should, but then again, you shouldn’t have fucked his best friend.” she said, watchign me as I inhaled the nicotene again “I just happened, dude. And I care about Norm, and he cares about me. We’re seeing what happens, and if we figure out it ain’t worth it, well, at least we tried.” “How romantic,” She rolled her eyes at me and stole another drag. “Shut up,” I giggled, tossing the cigarette out of the window and wrapping my arms around her, “Thanks bestfriend.” “Anytime, Sister.”

The flight to San Diego was nerve-wracking, to say the least. Paired with my already uneasiness to fly, my brother insisted sitting directly beside me and talking my ear off, then there was so much turbulence I was positive that the giant metal contraption was going to fall out of the fucking sky at any given moment. The entire time Jensen was hounding me about how Norman and I were going to act, reminding me to expect the worst from Jeff and just generally fueling my already plaguing anxiety. It wasn’t until we were off the plane and out of the terminal and I saw him waiting for me where he said he’d be that all the rest of the world drifted away. I did my best to keep myself composed in front of the waiting, watching eyes and cameras pointed in our general direction as he wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head, his fingers digging in greedily where they rested on my hips. My nails dug into his worn band shirt at his hips as I clung to him, Jensen slapping him on the shoulder in greeting before making his way past us. “Jensen! Are you excited about Comic Con?” the reporter asked, her microphone tilted in my brother’s direction. I didn’t have a chance to hear his answer because another mic was forced into my face as someone shouted, “Kylin! Where’s Jeffrey? Is he not picking you up?” I ignored it, Norman tucking me in closer to his side as we attempted to make our way through, but the shouts kept coming, “Does Jeffrey mind you cuddling with Norman?” “Kylin, are you having an affair with Norman?” “Did you and Jeffrey break up?” “Kylin!” “Norman!” “Jensen! What do you think about your sisters friendship with Norman?” “Jensen!” “BACK THE FUCK UP!” Jensen suddenly roared, backtracking to put himself between me and the group of frozen paparazzi, “HAVE SOME GOD DAMNED RESPECT, JESUS!” Jensen turned back on his heels and wrapped his arm around the other side of my shoulder as Norman did the same, both men escorting me through the doors of the exit to the waiting car that had made it’s way around to the pick up area. “Jesus fucking Christ.” Jensen cursed as he crawled into the passanger side. Cliff was in the driver’s seat, a concern look on his face as he looked in the rear view as Norman closed the door after I climbed in. 

“That was fucking stupid,” Norman grumbled, arm throwing itself back around me as he took his glasses off with his other hand and shook his head, “I hate that shit.” “Ya’ll okay?” Cliff asked “Yeah, just stupid paps and their stupid assumptions,” Jensen explained bitchily before turning to look back at me, “I told you some shit like that would happen.” “I know, brother.” I rolled my eyes as I crossed my arms infront of me, “Didn’t expect it to happen within the fuckin’ week, though.” “Jeff might have already said something to someone, sis, you know how he is when he’s pissed.” “PFftchyeah, we all know.” Norman rasped, propping his chin up with his elbow on his knee, “This is gonna be a fun weekend.”

Norman and I weren’t actually booked at the same hotel, but the company has booked his room directly across the hall from Jeffrey’s, and he didn’t feel like dealing with that, so he piled all his stuff in mine for the time being until he could see about getting it changed. “Hope you don’t mind,” he grinned, throwing himself down on the mattress as he kicked his shoes off. “Make your self comfy, why don’t ya?” I giggled back, shaking my head at him as I looked down from the edge of the bed. “Come’re” He growled lowly, his hand stretching out to grab my wrist as he stared at me behind his fringe. He pulled me down on top of him with a thud, a huff of a laugh barking out of me as he attached his limbs to mine and sealed me against his chest, “Missed you.” “I missed you, too.” I breathed, inhaling his cologne and smoky scent as I nuzzled my nose against him. 

He lightened his grip around me to pull my face up to his, planting a chaste kiss to my lips that quickly ignited as I adjusted my hips around his to hold myself up. His mouth parted as his tongue snaked its way past my teeth, enticing my own into a provocative dance that lead his hands to find their ways into my hair and across my back underneath my shirt. He moaned into the kiss, his teeth grazing my lower lip as his grip tightened at the nape of my neck. His hips bucked upward as I sucked at his mouth, my own grinding down against the denim separating us. “Need you, Ky,” He rasped as he rolled us over, holding himself up with his hands on either side of my head, shaggy hair dripping into his face as he hovered over me. “Need you too, Norm” I mumbled as I leaned up, my lips finding his neck and fingertips seeking out the hem of his shirt to pull it over his broad shoulders. He helped me dispose of it, pulling away for a second before caging me in his arms again to sink his teeth into the tender flesh of my shoulder. “Fuck, Norman!” I hissed at the sensation, my legs instinctively wrapping themselves around his waist to pull him closer to me. My hands scrambled down his bare chest to his belt, fumbling with the buckle before it finally was pried open with his button and fly. He leaned up again to work at my own jeans, and I lifted my hips for him to pull them off at the same time as I rid myself of my own shirt and bra. “Fucking hell, girl,” He grunted as he hiked my leg up around his shoulder, his body sliding down the mattress as his face became eye-level with my wetness, “So fuckin’ hot.” His cold tips of his index and middle fingers spread my aching lips apart slowly, his head cocking to the side as his tongue darted out to tease at my exposed clit. “Yaaaaaah! Norman!” I gasped, body instantly tensing at the sensation, earning me a chuckle from the man between my thighs. “Mmmm, so fuckin’ pretty.” He mumbled before reattaching his lips to my flesh, this tongue circling over the stimulated bundle of nerves again and again, his fingers moving down to gently tease my entrance but never go past the first thick knuckle. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” I panted, breathing ragged and labored as my mind shot off firecrackers behind my eyelids as I bit my lip, trying to hold back the throat ripping scream that loitered on the other side of my vocal chords. “Mmmmm” He hummed into me, the vibrations combined with the slick rolling of his tongue over me and the gentle pressure of his fingers triggered my release, the string of tension finally snapping and my mind clouding with blissful pleasure. 

“That’s it, girl, come for me,” He panted as he lifted his head, his fingers still working me over as he watched and felt my tenderness convulse, “Mmm, lookit you.” “Fuuh-uh-uhhhk” My voice shook as the shock waves continued to roll over me, the stimulation finally too much to handle, my hand shoving him away from the sensitivity and pulling his face up to mine. His kiss was deep, and rough, and I could taste my fluid seeping from his goatee, pulling a groan out of me as his tongue fought towards the back of my throat. His knees spread to push mine apart, his thick cock rutting against my sopping folds before sinking into me with one deep penetrating thrust. “Fuhk!” I gasped as the blunt head pushed itself all the way into my cervix, the painfully erotic explosion triggering a second orgasm almost immediately. “Oh, yeah?” He chuckled with a groan as he felt my walls flex and flutter around him, “Fuck, I love that.” “Yess! Norman!” I keened as he pulled out of me almost all the way and dived back into me, setting a controlled pace of not too hard and not too slow, causing my eyes to roll into the back of my head and him to burry his face into the crook of my neck. “Fuckin’ amazing,” He mumbled into my skin, biting and sucking at my neck and surely leaving bruises. My thighs wrapped tighter around him as he raised up onto his knees, pulling my ass into his lap by my hips and digging into me as deep as he could. “Look at you, take it…so…fucking…good,” He praised as he thrusted, his large hands splaying across my tiny stomach as he pistoned his hips in and out of me, my constant wails and keens spurring him on until another wave of ecstasy thrashed through me. Upon feeling the constriction, he pried my legs off of his waist and over his head, closing them and positioning them on his shoulder together before bending me in half to bring his lips to mine again. The new angle thrust his throbbing head into another deepness that sparked another orgasm before the last one even ended, a hoarse scream emanating from my lungs as he plunged into me with a quickening pace. “Fuck, gonna-” He started, and I instantly used the strength of my thighs to push him off and out of me before scurrying my body around to attach my face to his abdomen, his dick sliding down my throat with ease as the thick ropes of come spilled into my mouth. “Holy fuck, shit yeah!” He barked out with a huff of a laugh, his hand pushing my hair back from my face as he watched me drink all he had to offer me, “That’s the fuckin’ sight right there.” I grinned around his still hard cock at the same time as the door beeped and the sound of Misha’s voice flooded through the entry way “Kylin, I brought you your- Oh, hello there.” Misha was greeted with the sight of me with Norman’s dick still in my mouth, my eyes widening as I popped him out of my lips and he snatched the sheet from the bed to conceal himself. “Fuck, man, knock!” Norman snapped as I burst out laughing at the sight of Misha’s shocked face. I took the pillow that was nearest to me and sat in my lap, effectively covering as much as I could, not really caring since Misha had seen me naked countless of times before. “Where the fun would that be?” Misha chuckled as he shook his head, walking the rest of the way into the room and tossing a bag into my open hands with a smirk, “I found this with all my shit, looks like your warpaint.” “It is.” I confirmed, opening it slightly to see my makeup, “Thanks, Mish.” “No, thank you” He winked, still giggling, “Gonna have to add that one to the spank bank.” “Hey man, fuck you.” Norman grunted, his brows furrowing. “Oh, Normie, if you only knew the things I’ve seen that girl do.” he teased with another wink. “Shut the hell up, Misha.” I barked back, standing up to escort him towards the door. “You need a shower, you smell like sex and your breath reeks of dick,” Misha continued to torment as he walked backwards towards the exit, one of my palms planted firmly on his chest as I held the pillow to me with my other hand. I blew a breath of air in his face in reply, his head recoiling back as he opened the door to let himself out. “Good bye, Mishka, see you in a little bit!” I sang  as I poked my head out the hall at him before reentering the room and closing the door. “That was…does he do that a lot?” “What? Try to make people uncomfortable with how comfortable he is with nudity and sex? Yes. It’s partially my fault he walked in, I should have known to lock the deadbolt.” “Have you two…?” Norman asked quietly, looking up through his bangs as he made his way into the large bathroom. “What?” I questioned with my own quirked brow as I followed him, “Have we fucked?” He shrugged as he started the water to the large shower stall. “No, Norman, we haven’t. I did fuck his wife though.” I said matter-of-factly. Norman’s eyes widened as he straightened himself, a look of pure shock on his face. “Look, Misha has been one of my best friends since I was 17. We’ve been through hell and back together just about as much as you and I have.” I smiled at him, my hands reaching for his as the steam started to rise from the stall. “So he gets to see you naked? I don’t like that shit, girl. If your gonna be mine, you’re gonna be mine.” He drawled, eyes hardening slightly as he rubbed the tops of my hands with this thumb. “If I’m yours, then you need to trust me. I’m not losing my family over a relationship again.” Norman stared at me through his fringe for another moment before nodding his head gently. I nodded once as well before guiding him into the shower with me to wash off the stench of airplanes and sex, our hands soaping each other up and rinsing each other off before drying off and going on about our usual routines of getting ready. I had blow dried my hair and was applying my thick eyeliner to my lids when he returned into the bathroom to comb his hair and brush his teeth, his eyes never leaving my reflection as I globbed on the thick black goop. “What are you staring at?” I said without looking at him, adjusting the fallout under my lids before tracing my lips with liner as well. “Still tryna figure that one out.” He joked back, earning him a snort from me. “I say the same thing every time I look at you, Reedus.” I finished applying the dark red lipstick to my face before pressing a kiss to the man’s cheek, a bright mark appearing on his skin. He made no move to wipe it off as he assessed it in the mirror, an amused smirk playing on his face as he shook his head slightly. “Markin’ your territory or something?” “Or something,” I snarked back, hopping down from the counter and returning to the room to get dressed in a pair of jeans and Metallica shirt with a over sized flannel covering it. I tied my converse as Norman reappeared from the room, the blood-colored mark removed but a tinge of red still staining his cheek. “You coming to the cast panel this evening?” Norman asked as he stuffed his feet into his own shoes while holding his phone in front of him. “Yeah, figured I might as well see what I should expect tomorrow for him and Jensen’s,” I sighed as I flopped down onto the bed one more time, looking up at him from my hair that threw itself over my eyes. He smiled down at me fondly, his hand extending out for me to take hold of so he could heave me up. “Come'n, Whiskey, let’s go see what the wolves have in store for us, yeah?” He said, a small smile on his face as he wrapped his arms around me. I stood up on my tip-toes as he leaned down to give me a kiss. I sighed up at him as he squeezed me before stepping away to put on his hat and glasses. “And here…we…go…”

[battle-goats]

Project Cooperation Chapter 4

Rating: T

Ship: Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku

Tags: group project, uncooperative bakugou, mentions of masturbations, non-explicit

Summary:  When Bakugou and Midoriya are thrown together for a group project, they both think it's doomed from the start. But with Midoriya's stubborn determination the group pulls together. Sort of. In the mean time, it means plenty of alone time for Bakugou and Midoriya. With a decade old wall between them, they could never possibly get along as friends, let alone anything more. Right?

Read on Ao3

Notes: Masaru’s opening line by @derederedancer from the IzuKatsu Server.

“Katsuki, are you gonna mope in there all day?” his mother called through the door.  Katsuki was huddled under the covers of his bed.  If he stayed here, he wouldn’t have to face the real world.  The real world, which included Deku.  The boy he’d kissed.  Because he was an absolute idiot with poor impulse control.

The door opened and his father stuck his head in.

"I'm opening the door, please be decent - oh good you're just angry about Izuku-kun again. Actually, the way you've been handling this Katsuki, maybe should we go over the birds and the bees again."

“What the fuck, dad!”

“Why are you so shocked, your mother and I saw this coming for years.  We were wondering when anything was gong to happen,” Masaru said.  He shut the door and sat in the desk chair across from Bakugou’s bed.  He was still rolled up in his blankets, but he was sitting up now.

“Son, we love you.  And out of anyone you could have picked, Izuku-kun is probably the best person for you.  Quite frankly that boy has seen you at your worst and is still interested is a minor miracle.”

Bakugou growled at his father.

“He’s such a nice boy, he could honestly do better -”

“Dad.”

“So smart, Yagi-san mentioned he was in the top fve in -”

“Dad.”

“I wonder what he’s planning on doing after graduating.  Maybe I should-”

“Dad!”

“Yes son?”

“Deku and I aren’t even together,” Bakugou said.  Masaru blinked at him in confusion.

“You’re not?  I thought you’d confessed,” Masaru said.

“I didn’t confess,” Bakugou mumbled.  His father leaned forward.

“What was that, I didn’t catch that.”

“I said I didn’t fucking confess.  I kissed him!” Bakugou snapped.

“Oh,” Masaru said as he stood.  He straightened his glasses and headed for the door. “Well son, the only thing I can say to that is this: you’re fucked.”

Masaru walked out.  Bakugou wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel reassured from this strange father-to-son chat.  Bakugou wrestled himself out of bed and sat at his desk.  He felt better having gotten out of bed.  But he still didn’t want to even look at his phone.  In case Deku had tried to contact him.

His phone chirped and he reached for it without thinking about it.  He glanced at the contact.  Round-face.  His eyes dragged down to the actual text. Good going lover-boy.  Bakugou tossed his phone back on the desk.  Obviously Deku had fucking blabbed to at least one other person.

Probably having a good laugh at his expense.  Talking about how shit a kisser he was, too.  

“Yeah, fuck that,” Bakugou growled.  He got up and crawled back into bed.  He flopped onto his back to stare at the ceiling.  Much to his annoyance, he immediately thought of Deku.  Of his soft face, and freckles, and the fact that his lips were slightly chapped.  He thought of the way Deku said his name, well, his nickname anyway.  And of course, his thoughts trailed to what Deku would sound like moaning, gasping his name.  What would he sound like as Bakugou worked him to completion?  Would he just gasp quietly, or would he scream Bakugou’s name?

Bakugou reached under the waistband of his sweats, just a little annoyed and frustrated that Deku had this kind of affect on him.

He finished quickly and hastily cleaned up his shame.  He felt bad for thinking about Deku like that.  He was just so soft.  Innocent, and cute.  Deku didn’t deserve his nasty thoughts.

Bakugou couldn’t look Deku in the eye at school on Monday.  He did everything in his power to avoid so much as looking at Deku.  Even though he sat in front of Deku in class, he did his best to not even look at him on accident.  Because every time he did, he thought of that kiss.  The kiss he’d initiated.

The day dragged on, and every attempt Deku made at starting conversation was shut down by Bakugou walking away or simply ignoring him.  At lunch time, Bakugou escaped to the roof where only the third years seemed to hang out, but no one said anything when he found a corner to hide in.

He was halfway through his lunch when a shadow fell over him.  Bakugou looked up to see Deku standing over him, his lunch in hand.

“The fuck do you want?” he asked.  Deku kneeled in front of him and leaned forward.  Bakugou leaned back to create some space between them.

“You’re avoiding me,” Deku said.

“No I’m not.”

“Yeah you are,” Deku said, “you kissed me.  Why?”

“Why else do people kiss, you nerd?”

Deku took a moment to take that in.  He set his bento down, then took Bakugou’s from his and put it down too.  Bakugou stared at him.  Then, Deku took a deep breath, set his hands on Bakugou’s shoulders and leaned forward.  Bakugou’s eyes widened in panic and he pushed Deku away from him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded.

“What’s it look like?  I’m kissing you,” Deku said.

“Why the fuck would you?”

“Uhhhhhh, because you kissed me first, and people kiss each other when they like each other, so I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“What the fuck!?  No you’re not!”

“Why not?  You kissed me this weekend!  And then ran away.  I’ve been confused all weekend, and it’s your fault, Kacchan!”

“I don’t know why I kissed you, okay!  I just did it, I wasn’t fucking thinking!” Bakugou snapped.

“Oh really?  You don’t know why you basically pinned me to the door, touched me like I was something special, and then kissed me?  Really?  You’re really going to pull that shit on me, Kacchan?”

Bakugou grit his teeth.  He didn’t want to say it, saying it would make it real, and he wouldn’t be able to take it back.  But if what he thought Deku was getting at was true, then he really had nothing to lose at this point.

“Okay, fine, I kissed you because I like you!” he said.  In fact, he’d said it rather loudly.  Nearly shouted it.  He really hoped no one heard him.  Deku was grinning at him.

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” Deku said.  He braced his hands on Bakugou’s shoulders again and leaned in for a kiss.  Bakugou didn’t stop him.

Their lips met, and it was soft and hesitant.  Bakugou could feel the minute tremor in Deku’s body.  Bakugou brought his hands up to tangle in Deku’s hair and drag him closer.  Deku tipped forward and crawled into Bakugou’s lap.

They finally pulled apart, but Bakugou didn’t want Deku to leave just yet.  He fit perfectly in Bakugou’s lap.

“So, what does this mean then?” Deku asked.  He looked nervous.

“It means my boyfriend can kiss me whenever he wants to, obviously,” Bakugou said.  He pecked Deku on the cheek, then picked up his lunch. “But I’m gonna finish my lunch right now.”

Deku laughed and reached for his own.  They ate together in silence, though it was a little awkward when they tried to do so with Deku still stradding Bakugou’s lap.  Eventually Deku moved to sit next to Bakugou and they ate together.

“You know, I never in a million years would have thought you’d like me back,” Deku said.  He tapped the ends of his chopsticks against his lower lip.  They were red and a little swolen.

“Yeah well I never put much thought into liking people in general,” Bakugou admitted.  Very briefly in first year he’d had a crush on Kirishima, but that had been short-lived.

“You know, I think you’re the only person I’ve ever looked at or thought of like that,” Deku said with a smile.  Bakugou was stunned.

“Not even round-face?”

“Uraraka-san is my friend.  Besides, she’s been trying to muster up the courage to as Tsuyu-chan out on a date for months now.”

“Huh, that’s a surprise.  I though for sure she had a thing for you,” Bakugou said.

“Oh she did, in first year.  But she realized she’d rather have me as a friend, than a boyfriend,” Deku said.  Suddenly Deku reached over and snagged a piece of egg out of Bakugou’s bento.

“Hey, what the fuck.  Just cause you’re my boyfriend now doesn’t mean I’ll let you eat my food,” he said with a scowl.  Bakugou grabbed Deku’s last piece of hot dog.

“Ah!  Kacchan!  That was the last one!” Deku whined.  He pouted and Bakugou found it to be the cutest thing.  He leaned over and pecked Deku on the lips.  Deku’s pout was gone and he was smiling again.

The bell rang, signalling the end of lunch, and they scrambled off the roof to make it back to the classroom before the teacher arrived.  They slid into their seats with seconds to spare.  Uraraka gave them both a sly look and then a thumbs up which was aimed at Deku, who quickly returned it.  Then she was hiding a grin behind her hand as Nemuri-sensei walked in.

Bakugou just shook his head and turned back to the lesson at hand.  He was hunched over, taking notes in his frankly awful scrawl when a triangle of paper bounced off his shoulder and landed on his notebook.

He hastily opened it, quietly snorting at the fact that Deku was passing a note to him.  It was such a ridiculous thing to do.  

Wanna grab something after school?  Yes/No

Leave it to Deku to be the one to ask about a date first.  Bakugou quickly circled yes, then scribbled down a suggestion.  He folded the paper back up and tossed it over his shoulder.

“Bakugou-kun, Midoriya-kun, whatever you have to say to each other can wait until after class,” Nemuri-sensei snapped.  She stalked up the aisle and picked up the sheet of paper and read it with a smile.  Thankfully not aloud.  She crumbled the sheet up. “Ah, young love.  But your date plans can wait.”

The class erupted into noise.  To Bakugou’s complete shock, he watched Todoroki pull his wallet out and hand a bill over the Iida of all people.

“It’s about time,” Kirishima called from the front of the class.  Bakugou sighed, he hadn’t planned on everyone finding out all at once like this.  They hadn’t really talked about it, but there really wasn’t a whole lot of reason for them to hide their new relationship.  But it was brand new, so he’d wanted Deku’s attention all to himself for a while before everyone found out.

“Back to the lesson!” Nemuri-sensei called and the class quieted down.  Bakugou picked his pencil back up and returned to taking notes as the lecture was resumed.  Even so, despite his annoyance, he couldn’t help the grin on his face throughout the rest of the day.

[bliss-delight-jr]

get to know me!

i was tagged by @feadae thanks so much!

Nicknames: my brother calls me An (pronounced like Ahn) and some people call me Onion. a couple people online call me Bliss. i like all of these nicknames! call me whatever you want. 
Gender: girl!
Star Sign: i'm a Leo
Height: 5 ft 6 in (or 7? i want it to be 7)
Time: Eastern time zone? but also it's 7:05 rn so??? i don't know what this question is asking. i'm 16?? what. 
Birthday: july 24 2001!
Favorite Bands: ooo... Young Rising Sons is up there tbh. i also really like 38 Special but i've only heard 2 songs (Hold On Loosely is a masterpiece fight me). of the bands i haven't heard a lot of but really like: The Killers, Yellowcard, Mother Mother, MGMT, the Oh Hellos. that's just a couple tho!
Favorite solo artist: Carly Rae Jepsen is a gift fuck off. Also Alison Weiss and others....
Song stuck in your head: HOLD ON LOOSELEEYYYY...... BUT DON'T LET GOOOO!
Last Movie: It's A Wonderful Life! it was such a sweet and uplifting movie i love it. 
Last TV show: Doctor Who! The Donna episodes if you were wondering. 
Why i created my blog: i honestly have no clue. i think i low-key wanted to be a Famous Tumblr Artist but i'm not there yet, and that's ok. 
What I post/reblog: mostly stuff about shows or movies or books i like. art and aesthetic things very occasionally. also if a friend draws or writes something i am All Over It. love it. 
Last Thing I googled: massachusetts time zone
Other Blogs: none yet!
Why’d you choose your URL: OK SO! Griffin McElroy transformed into Bliss Delight after seeing CRJ perform live and i'm a HUGE CRJ fan all bc of him? so like u know. why not. he's Bliss Delight and i am too but i'm Jr. does that make sense? listening to E•MO•TION for the first time changed my life ok. 
How many people i follow: like 400 i think. 
How many followers i have: like.... 200+? approximately?
Amount of Sleep: 7???? i really don't know. maybe 10 or 11 on the weekends. 
Lucky Number: 3, 4, 5, 7, 8
Instrument: guitar or piano but i haven't played either in ages. how about the triangle, can i say the triangle?
What are you wearing: my pajamas man. black shirt with black pants. the black shirt is short sleeved and i have a Spock pj shirt but i don't know where it is! :( i miss that shirt. 
Dream Trip: CALIFORNIA!!! california pls.... yes... or maybe somewhere like Ireland? Iceland? Australia? I have a friend irl (who i love! she doesn't have a tumblr but i love her!) who went to Jamaica a lot and i've always wanted to go with her. maybe Oxford? or Arizona... or Chaleston WV...
Favorite Food: uhhhh. chicken is pretty good have y'all ever tried it
Favorite song: UHHHH..... i don't know! i cant choose so i'm gonna pick a couple: Who We Are by Alison Weiss, every song from E•MO•TION ESPECIALLY Warm Blood and Let's Get Lost. Mr. Brightside is a masterpiece. i really like Ocean Avenue ok? i have so a lot of favorites tbh. 
Last book I read: The Great Gatsby (for school) and Dragons of Winter (loving it so far oh man)

i'm gonna tag @cinnamonbutch @sockdologer @frosttrix @sublimegentlemanalpaca but if i didn't tag you and you want to do this, go ahead! and if i did tag you, don't feel obligated to do it.

[cannabisprnewera]

What It’s Like To Be A Woman In Weed Country

These modern-day superwomen are moms, wives, and farmers.

Woman tending to Cannabis plants in Humboldt, California

Photos by Jessi Bergsma Rockenbach and Sky Bergsma Rockenbach

Chiah Rodriques gets up around five in the morning—that’s when it’s cool enough to start working on her pot farm in Mendocino County in the summertime. She’s also a mother of two; owns a jewelry and clothing boutique in town; and does all the household duties of any homemaker. A typical day includes eight to ten hours of coordinating cannabis distribution and sales, one to three hours in the garden, an hour of bookkeeping and accounting for the boutique, a few hours of after-school activities and meal prep, and a few more hours of work after the kids go to sleep.

She hardly has a moment for herself, a widespread predicament for the women of weed country that’s been exacerbated by dozens of additional hours spent working to comply not only with California’s new cannabis regulations but also with local regs. The tough transition to California’s legal cannabis market has been covered extensively—more than 10,000 cannabis farmers in the Emerald Triangle are anticipated to be left behind. But what often hasn’t been covered is the families affected by this transition.

Out in weed country, the only thing arguably harder than being a pot grower is being partners with a pot grower. The onus of this role most commonly falls on the women of the community—mothers, wives, business owners, operations managers, policy wonks, community volunteers, board members, cannabis breeders, and pot growers in their own right.

What Its Like To Be Married To A Cannabis Farmer In Humboldt 8 Arizona Candidate For Governor, Noah Dyer, Says He Was Fired From His Day Job For Supporting Legalization

Chiah Rodriques’ husband Jamie Beatty. The couple is based in Mendocino County, in California’s iconic Emerald Triangle. (Photo by Bobby Cochran)

In the Emerald Triangle and surrounding areas, women run the town. “While the men are out in the field, the women are opening restaurants in town so we can eat, they’re out there doing political stuff, helping run the hospital, volunteering to help small community schools run,” says Becky Crossland, an Emerald Triangle cannabis farmer from Garberville. At the same time, they’re co-managing pot farms with their partners, overseeing operations both in the field and behind a computer screen, pouring over California’s maze of legal weed regulations, and advocating for better local laws. “This community does not run on growing weed alone,” Crossland says.

A farmer in her own right, Rodriques also operates Mendocino Generations, a collective of 60 farms that produce the flowers for Arcanna. These days, in addition to all her daily tasks, Rodriques is trying to navigate the new local track-and-trace program, attend county board of supervisors meetings, work out zoning issues, and plan two to four workshops a month on licensing and compliance for farmers in the collective.

What Its Like To Be Married To A Cannabis Farmer In Humboldt 2 Arizona Candidate For Governor, Noah Dyer, Says He Was Fired From His Day Job For Supporting Legalization

Chiah Rodriques. She’s based in Mendocino County, in the Emerald Triangle. (Photo by Chiah Rodriques)

“It’s definitely a daily struggle. The stress level is affecting our bodies,” she says. “It affects your sleep, so you’re extra tired, then drink more caffeine, and you’re in a fucked up cycle of trying to balance your energy with things that aren’t helping.”

The stress has taken a toll on her mental health, as well, though recently Rodriques and her husband haven’t even been able to afford therapy together since their sales on flower have been lagging since legalization took effect. The volatility of the cannabis market, Crossland says, has had a serious impact on the well-being of Emerald Triangle families. People have the impression, she feels, that Emerald Triangle cannabis farmers are wealthy when, in reality, they’re struggling to stay afloat, especially post-recreational legalization. Just a few years ago, pounds of marijuana in the Emerald Triangle used to sell on the black market for $1200, now they go for as low as $500.

Then, there’s the conditions in the Emerald Triangle. Rodriques, her husband, and her older son all suffer from lyme disease, which is common in weed country thanks to a large population of ticks. For most people, antibiotics don’t alleviate the chronic illness. Instead, Rodriques has her family on a specific diet, free of gluten, that helps them maintain their health in the face of the disease. Still, it’s created a great deal of anxiety for them.

What Its Like To Be Married To A Cannabis Farmer In Humboldt 10 Arizona Candidate For Governor, Noah Dyer, Says He Was Fired From His Day Job For Supporting Legalization

Chiah Rodriques with her family at the beach. Her farm is based in Mendocino County, in the Emerald Triangle. (Photo by Chiah Rodriques)

For Rodriques and her husband, it’s so rare they have a conversation that isn’t about weed that anything else feels like an afterthought. “I have to remind myself to be really present with my family,” Rodriques says. “Being more present is a goal of mine.” That, and taking more time for herself without feeling selfish or guilty about it. Rodriques’ husband never takes time off, either.

“It’s vital for us to remember that that’s super important,” she says. “Whether it’s sleeping in one day or flipping through a book that has nothing to do with cannabis or having a conversation that has nothing to do with cannabis farming.”

For some Emerald Triangle couples, the work is so consuming that it consumes the marriage altogether, at times ending in divorce. Other times, the stress of the job drives people to drink or use other drugs and pharmaceuticals.

“We love each other deeply but we’ve questioned if we wanted to continue being in this relationship,” says Wendy Kornberg, CEO at Sunnabis and mother of two living in Humboldt. “He quit drinking last year, which helped a lot and it definitely helped me to re-assess and re-prioritize him and us.” Like Rodriques, Kornberg also wakes up at the crack of dawn: tending to her kids, the farm, research and development, genetic breeding, business operations, legal compliance, and volunteering at the local school.

Wendy Arizona Candidate For Governor, Noah Dyer, Says He Was Fired From His Day Job For Supporting Legalization

Wendy Kornberg, CEO at Sunnabis in the Emerald Triangle (Photo courtesy of Wendy Kornberg)

She says she and her “unhusband” often struggle to find time for each other—date night is rare, though she aims to set aside at least one day out of two weekends a month for family time. The couple will head to the beach from Humboldt with their kids, while Kornberg uses that time to forage seaweed for a Korean natural farming method she practices.

“I think the hardest part is because we work together and live together, there’s no leaving work at the job place,” she says. “You live in the job place and we struggle with that.”

That’s not to mention the additional stressors, such as sexism in the cannabis industry. Men often refer to Kornberg as “bro” on Instagram, not realizing she’s a woman running the account. And on sales and marketing trips, people so often used to defer only to her partner that she stopped bringing him altogether.

IMG 1086 Arizona Candidate For Governor, Noah Dyer, Says He Was Fired From His Day Job For Supporting Legalization

“We take extreme pride in our curing methods, which I learned and studied for three years from a master of the region. We don’t touch the flower when we harvest it to preserve every trichome, and we never let the barn temperature raise above 72 degrees to preserve every terpene, which can be extremely tricky when you have an off-grid system in 110-degree summer heat.” -Jessi Bergsma Rockenbach, co-owner of Terra Vida farms in the Emerald Triangle (Photo by Jessi Bergsma Rockenbach)

“It’s a male-dominated world,” she says. “I’d be talking and they’d instantly talk to him, and though he was like, ‘Guys you’re not getting it, I’m not the dude in charge, she’s the dude in charge,’ it just became easier to not have him there.”

Despite running a business, plowing through compliance, and so forth, as a mom, Kornberg says she’s also expected to be at all her kids’ school functions: bake for the bake sale, have the house in order, and so forth.

At such an uncertain time in weed history, Emerald Triangle couples-turned-business partners are bending over backward to operate according to the law. With the added responsibility of compliance alongside the regular farm life duties, it’s a common complaint among cannabis families that they never get to talk about—let alone think about—anything other than weed.

IMG 8303 copy Arizona Candidate For Governor, Noah Dyer, Says He Was Fired From His Day Job For Supporting Legalization

“Even after years of dodging choppers and keeping a backpack of running shoes and a passport by the door, nothing could have prepared me for the wave of fear that came with ‘legalization.’ Much of our community was compromised by stringent local zoning standards, and many weren’t allowed the opportunity to come into compliance. I love and deeply feel for my community. Legalization is upon us, yet we are still in the midst of the tail end of the war. Every day our courage is tested, in new and different ways. But now I can say, ‘I am a farmer’ out loud in public, and it’s still thrilling every time.” – Jessi Bergsma Rockenbach, co-owner of Terra Vida farms in the Emerald Triangle in midsummer 2017. (Photo by Cody Stevenson)

“You can’t take the work stress into the relationship,” says Jessi Bergsma Rockenbach, co-owner of Terra Vida farms in Humboldt, who works alongside her long-term partner on the farm. “We have a rule: No talking about weed in the bed. And if we’re on date night, which is rare, we have a safe word for the dinner table if we go in that direction.”

[renaroo]

Any thoughts on Venus de Milo(tmnt)?

BOY DO I

I wonder if this is related at all to MovieBob’s recent video about her being the worst female character ever because the moment I watched it I wondered if anyone would be asking me about her. 

So. Ninja Turtles: The Next Mutation is... a thing that in itself is almost too difficult to explain outside of “you had to be there”, but I’m going to do my best. Because I was there. Oh, man. Was I there. 

While I had VHS tapes of the original ‘80s TMNT cartoon I grew up with and watched religiously, the show stopped airing new episodes before I was born, and stopped resyndication by the time I was four. So while I definitely grew up with them and loved them and read the Archie comics religiously as a kid and watched the original live action movies pretty much every weekend we rented movies from the down the road movie rental store (anyone remember those?), my actual first memories of watching any TMNT show as it aired was the 1998 flop show, Ninja Turtles: The Next Mutation. 

In fact, I distinctly remember getting the chicken pox that year and part of the only good thing that came from it was I got to watch episodes of NT:TNM without impediment from my then-one year old sister because they kept her away from me as if I had the plague. 

Which I kinda did, but regardless. 

It was actually just 4 years later, in 2001, that I’d come to build an online presence with TERRIBLE Pokemon, Inuyasha, and Star Fox fanfics that I first started looking up geocities communities for various fandoms and one of those was TMNT. 

If anyone remembers geocities or pre-ff.net fandom lore in the Ninja Turtles circle, here’s how old I am: I, personally, used to talk to the likes of Kali Gargoyle, Azure the Turtle, Kat, Sakan (FREAKfreak), Ame Musashi, Buslady, and Machias -- a statement that I can almost guarantee means absolutely NOTHING to 99.9999% of you.

Now, an interesting thing about the fandom culture just before the 2003 cartoon aired was that there was actually a large contingent of the fandom that were defensive of Ninja Turtles: The Next Mutation and thought of it as being only as bad as the current Power Rangers season of the time (which was the one right before Dino Thunder, so I can’t remember which one it was). In fact, people were so on the bandwagon for it, that the geocities community started an online petition -- which at the time was a difficult thing to do because it meant everyone sending a single email chain around and around so everyone can sign it with their online names and then email it to Saban, who owned the rights. The petition was to allow the show to have another season and tie up its loose ends with the (most likely misinformed) opinion that Next Mutation had had better viewership than the Power Rangers season it ran side-by-side with. 

Did it deserve it? With my nostalgia goggles off, having bought the DVDs of the series and watched it within the last four years, can I say Next Mutation and Venus de Milo deserved that type of fandom swelling in support?

...

Um. Noooooo?

Okay, my extensive fandom history aside, I cannot defend The Next Mutation because... it was really bad. Like, made the Shredder a good guy in the pilot and got rid of the most iconic villains for the rest of the series bad. Instead we had the Dragon Lord (eh) and Wick (his servant, again eh), Silver the Gorilla... gangster whose gang came straight out of the (also flop) Dick Tracey movie, and... 

Vam Mi. Who was probably the first indication my parents had that I was into girls. Because. Well shit. I mean. 

A Chinese vampire obsessed with the female of the show and wore tight leather and heeellllooooooooo

Vam Mi is actually the thing I remember the best about the show and I could probably write an essay on defending the storyline “Unchain My Heart” which goddamn if we’d had episodes like that throughout the show and a villain like Vam Mi throughout the show, well it probably would’ve gotten that mythical second sense that would have made sense of the other garbage. 

But I’ve obviously gotten away from your question. Which is about Venus herself. Or, as I prefer to call her (for reason we’ll get into) Mei Peih Chi. 

The reason I’ve had all this build up and quandering about the show itself is because Mei herself is such a product of this series that removing them from each other leaves out how things went so wrong with an idea that came from such an obviously positive place. “Hey, little girls deserve to want to be Ninja Turtles, too!”

Best intentions. Worst executions. 

If you read a lot of my meta, you know that I actually despise the concept of “Mary Sues” and how female characters are carelessly cast aside by people for basically having attributes of any main character. But. Well. Let’s just look at Mei’s character in its context: 

Mei is a fifth turtle who was in the same bowl that fell into the sewers and was mutated along with the turtles (aka, does not have her own unique origin story and was there from the beginning but WE’RE JUST LEARNING ABOUT IT), she was found by a Chinese monk (Chinese, not Japanese which is the ethnicity of the Hamato family of the turtles and Yoshi, sort of glazing over the cultures as being interchangeable), was raised as his daughter in the monastery back in China even though... he seemed to somehow know about the others Turtles and Splinter and inform her where to go after his death in the pilot?, and she -- in a series called Ninja Turtles, was not a ninja but a Shinobi priestess with psychic abilities. 

Oh, and throughout the show they keep bringing up the fact that none of them are blood-related, despite the turtles being brothers being a cornerstone to the franchise since the 80s comics, for the sole purpose of having a love triangle between Raph, Venus, and Leo without it being incest. 

(This hilariously backfired and became the justification for the ever growing T-Cest fandom that shipped the boys together for years afterward by the by)

She is a fish out of water, has zero fun throughout the series, is not as physically strong in a fight as the boys, and is basically the plot equivalent of Deus Ex Machina in the end because Magic > Ninjitsu in a franchise that is completely dependent on the physicality and Ninja-ness of the characters. 

Also. Despite Mei growing up in China, still learning English and Western culture, and having an obvious struggle with mourning the loss of her home in China and her Chinese father, in the goddamn pilot the main guys rename her “Venus de Milo” because she knocked the arms off a statue and they thought it was funny. Because while the guys are named after Renaissance artists, Mei is renamed and for all purposes “Anglicanized” for an art object. Like. It’s difficult to understand who okayed any of this. 

Like. Were they thinking?

Mei, from the start, was kind of a broken character with a gross costume design (turtle boobs turtle boobs what’re you gonna do there’s a turtle with fucking boobs) that still forces girls to see themselves as thin and demure even if they’re bulky, shell having turtles. BECAUSE WE GOTTA HAVE THEM HIPS AND CURVES i guess. 

She’s so loathed by Peter Laird (co-creator of the TMNT) that he made the overly drastic declaration that he’ll never allow there to be female turtles in the franchise again, period. Which I kinda... find extreme. 

Because....

As bad as she is. As problematic as she was. 

.... When I was six, I loved her. 

How could I not love her? She and Vam Mi were the only girls on the whole damn show! (April and Casey didn’t even get cameos). The face value of representation for a long time made me defensive of Mei and of the show because of how it made me feel as a kid.

It’s that Maya Angelou quote personified: “People may not remember exactly what you did, or what you said, but they will always remember how you made them feel.“

I didn’t remember how bad the props and puppetry was until I rewatched the show. I didn’t remember how annoying Venus’ “spot” in the team was as immediate den mother and object to be fought over (like Raph and Leo needed more to fight over really). I didn’t even remember that the show kept pushing for the Turtles to not be a family. 

I remembered having a lot of affection for seeing a female ninja turtle along with the characters I had grown up loving. I mean, seriously, do I have to post that picture again of me as a baby in the scariest Ninja Turtle themed grocery store ride in the history of ever?

So she’s bad. And there needs to be more effort in being progressive and being more inclusive, especially for old properties trying to adapt to the changing times. 

And I’m someone who believes wholeheartedly that any idea can be done well. 

.... Venus was not done well.

But she had her part in making me a lifetime Ninja Turtle fan. A complicated, twisted, only could happen in the late part of the Clinton administration way. 

So I will criticize the hell out of Mei, out of the series, but I’ll always be mindful of how it made a six-year-old Rena excited every Saturday. 

I’ll remember that and the hot vampire in leather. 

[sirgoodmovie-blog]

Film Castle Retrospective: War of the Worlds (2005)

A largely forgotten sci-fi gem.

I'm going to talk about this film's plot in detail! If you've never seen it, I would highly recommend giving it a watch and coming back!

I always felt like War of the Worlds just came and went. You hear folks talking about great science fiction films of the last 15 years and this movie rarely comes up. After rewatching it recently, I think I understand why. It's still as affecting and brilliantly paced as I remember it being but it's not exactly what I would call timeless. In fact, this film is so firmly planted in its era that watching it today feels uncanny.

Steven Spielberg did this one! Well, he directed it. It was written by David Koepp (known for Jurassic Park and Mission: Impossible) and Josh Friedman (writer on... Avatar 2, currently in post-production :/ ).

The plot very loosely follows the 1897 novel written by H.G. Wells. Ray Ferrier (Tom Cruise) is a dock worker living in New Jersey. His two kids, Robbie (Justin Chatwin) and Rachel (Dakota Fanning), live with their mother and view him as a deadbeat. On a weekend visit, an unnatural lightning storm leads to an enormous three-legged machine emerging from the ground and disintegrating crowds of people with laser beams. These are the beginnings of a global alien invasion, and we follow Ray and his kids as they travel north towards Boston in an attempt to seek refuge from the tripods with their extended family.

Most folks know this story from the 1938 radio drama by Orson Welles, remembered in infamy for causing some people to actually believe Martians were invading Earth. Spielberg's adaptation doesn't have much of anything to do with Welles', at least on the surface. But let's think about the time periods at play. In the late 30's, America was on the cusp of WWII, with the constant threat of German invasion looming in the national consciousness. The radio play was thoroughly tapped into these fears and was able to exploit them, accidentally creating a horror so palpable that people actually called the police to ask about the broadcast.

Turns out, history repeats in predictable but fascinating ways! The 2005 film is baked in post 9/11 anxiety. It's deep in the DNA of the thing, and there's even a point in the movie where this fear is stated outright (the kids ask their father if the invading aliens are "terrorists"). It's all here folks! Robbie spends almost all of his screen-time trying to join the military to "get back at them", Ray comes home from the initial attack covered in dust and ash, lots of shots of Heroic American Soldiers. There's even a fucking plane crash early in the invasion. I found it amazing how little of this stuff I remember and how it all seems so obvious now, but it's also telling. American culture was steeped in this iconography at the time. It just seemed normal when I was a kid. Every single house on Ray's street having an American flag out front was normal.

but watever!!! Let's talk about robots! Let's talk about what works in this movie!

The tripods are fairly interesting and menacing on their own. The way their little metal tendrils move around is distressingly organic, and that's before they start leaking fluids and sucking people up into their... orifices (sigh). They do this big foghorn yell that's still really frightening! I still remember it shaking the theater. If you have a good sound system you'll probably get a bit of that effect. Their lasers turn people to dust but leave the clothes, leading to a brilliant shot late in the movie where articles of clothing start falling from the sky.

On top of all that, their design takes on a new significance when the pilots are revealed: the aliens are a three-legged species. They are piloting mechs created in their own image, mimicking all giant-robot media ever created ever in the history of intelligent life. Goofs aside, this kind of internal design consistency is what I live for in sci-fi films. I'm even willing to look past the fact that they're triangle-headed, which is the most cliche head shape for an alien to have.

The pacing and moment-to-moment plotting in this film is excellent. The tension and desperation are constantly rising, and it all comes to head in a fantastic penultimate act wherein Ray and Rachel are forced to hide in a basement with Harlan (Tim Robbins), a prepper with a dubious grasp of reality.

Oh sorry, you thought this was a sci-fi thriller? nice try idiot it's a sci-fi horror now.

It starts off with a genuinely touching scene of Ray attempting to comfort his daughter before she sleeps. After tearfully admitting that he doesn't know any lullabies, he starts quietly singing The Beach Boy's "Little Deuce Coupe". It's the only song he knows by heart, or at least the only one he can recall. This is the moment where the emotional core of the movie really comes together.

And just in time, because a spooky alien mechanical eyeball tentacle comes down to investigate the basement, followed closely by the aliens themselves! These scenes are incredibly tense. Not only is Ray trying desperately to hide and protect his daughter from robots, Harlan's delusions of grandeur and desire to attack the invaders almost gives away their position several times, forcing Ray to fight him as well. You find yourself holding your breath as the two men silently struggle for control of a loaded shotgun, with the strange tripedal creatures mere steps away.

These events culminate in the reveal that the aliens are using human blood as the main ingredient in a strange plant/fungus, with the purpose of terraforming the Earth to their liking. Harlan panics. He starts yelling and refuses to stop, and Ray is forced to kill him while Rachel waits in the other room, blindfolded and singing to herself. It's haunting. It's tragic. It works, and Tim Robbins steals every scene he's in.

But uh, not everything in the film hits those highs. I know I've been giving this movie a lot of sugar so far, but it has some big problems.

For one thing: Steven Spielberg Kid Shit™. Ray's children are supremely unlikable for most of the runtime. It's difficult to care about Rachel before the aforementioned basement act, and Robbie's arc never really makes any sense at all. He's a shitty teenager who immediately wants to join the army upon seeing one (1) robot. His insistence that Ray has to just "let him go" runs counter to his attitude in the early parts of the film, where he feels Ray doesn't care enough about him or his sister. It felt like the writers didn't quite know what they were trying to say with Robbie. Figures, since they kinda just shoo him away before the best scenes in the movie, only to unceremoniously bring him back at the end.

Speaking of, the ending is bad. Very bad actually!

It sticks with the "aliens killed by Earth microbes" ending of the original story. This has always been kind of a hard sell. It's difficult to believe that a spacefaring race wouldn't take precautions against that sort of thing, but maybe they evolved to be really resistant to diseases on their planet or something. However, in one of the changes the film makes to the original story, the tripods were buried on Earth a million years ago and were lying in wait for their pilots to arrive and begin the invasion. This just makes the aliens seem even stupider. It's hard to suspend my disbelief when I'm thinking about how during dozens of millennia of planning, catching an Earth cold was seemingly never a concern.

The ending is also too damn happy. Ray and Rachel make it to Boston, and not only is all of their family alive and completely safe, but Robbie is also alive and completely safe and he beat them there! I know it seemed like he exploded and caught fire and was directly in the path of a killer blood robot, but don't worry he's fine! Yeah I know, it feels ridiculous and unearned. But it makes sense in retrospect given that post 9/11 trauma. Nobody at that time would've responded to the bittersweet ending that this film deserves.

Closing thoughts, this film isn't gonna work for everyone. I saw it as a kid so I admit some bias. I can easily see someone watching this thinking it's cheesy and heavy-handed. But I think if you're a fan of science fiction, it's at least worth it to see this classic story loaded up with all of 2005's baggage. For old times sake.

"THEY EVEN GOT A MORGAN FREEMAN NARRATION IN THERE BEFORE THAT BECAME A CLICHE!" - Sir Goodmovie

Related links! Here's a recent episode of Radiolab about the history of the radio play, and here's a stellar video by Lindsay Ellis on post 9/11 media.