#its blowing up my news apps notifications personally

[manawitchyt]

A Cozy Celebration

Quest 6

On the final day of the Quests the early morning air was cold and crisp. Not a single creature was stirring and yet Mortimer and Bella had already headed off in to work. Emily was trying to get ready for the start of her day, but the bed was too warm. The snooze alarm broke through the cozy spell.

Emily rolled out of bed and started her morning routine. She was going to make today the best day of the Cozy Celebrations Quests. Tonight was also the Office Pizza Holiday party. It was going to be hard to keep her mind on the Quest, especially when she couldn't stop thinking about asking Aziz out.

Her house guest were quite the little mess makers. Emily picked up after them the entire time they have been here. Its like she is the maid in thier own personal b&b.

E: thinking I wish I wasn't the babysitter all the time. I don't think Cass and Alex like me very much, but it's almost over.

Alexander, he hated being called Alex, only those he deemed too stupid to fully respect his family name did he tell to call him "Alex". Alexander needed to find another way out of this hell hole his parents left him in. They couldn't careless about his desires to leave. They told him to suck it up.

🎶coffee is the best part of waking up… hmm hmm hmmm… my cup🎶 All the chores were done, the house was sparkling clean. Emily hasn't seen a dust bunny since she moved in. She is nailing this whole home owner thing! Still feels like she has roommates though, she giggles to herself.

Just as Emily was taking the first sip of her coffee a voice broke through her happy mood.

C: Im totally adding this to Social Bunny Teen Laugh CLICK. You look ridiculous with that on your face. You know its not meant to stay on there that long right?

E: Thanks Cass. How are you this morning?

Thankfully the bored teen walks off to video chat with her friend just as Emily's notifications blow up her phone.

E: Quest 6 started just in time to save me and the first two tasks should be easy to complete before work. I just need to get through one more day with them here. Then I'll be free.

Emily whips out her Grandma Parcel's old carafe, adds a few cups to a serving try, adds the premixed hot chocolate powder to the bottom of the cups and pours boiled water over top. She now can cross the "prepare hot chocolate" task off her list. She tells the kids they can have a mug if they want.

She turns the console into a movie player because she found a few DVDs in the bottom of one of her moving boxes. Turns out it was a home movie of an old Winterfest at Grandma Parcel's. Emily was so little sitting next to the counter watching Grandma bake cookies. It made her tear up. Task 2 done.

Emily still had an hour before she had to leave for work and the kids were in desperate need of some fun. So the next task came at the perfect time. Both kids were excited to kick Emily's butt at Pro bowling multiplayer.

C: You sure you want to play us Em?

E: Oh definitely. I could use the fun.

The game was a nail biter. Alex screamed that it was rigged and that Emily must have hacked his controller somehow. Cass locked in, put her serious face on and tried her best. Emily unleashed her pent up nice girl rage and let these kids have it! No mercy, STRIKE after STRIKE after STRIKE. Its over.

A: Emily, you have earned my respect. You've beat me in fair combat, you may call me Alexander now. I'll beat you next time though, I won't hold back.

E: Uh, ok…Alexander. Thanks for a good game.

C: Holy crap Alex. Quit being such a little dweeb. Dad doesn't even call you Alexander.

A: I know.

The morning whizzed by. The kids went off to school and Emily was only a little late to work. Jasmine's App wanted her to Document the research from this mornings tasks. Emily had been working on trying to reword her submission about the multiplayer game. It's hard to write how you beat little kids.

She wrote a rough draft that minimized the soul crushing defeat she handed the kids. There were plenty of new discoveries to tell Jasmine about. Emily used the work email system to send her message. There was a lot of files to attach so it was taking a bit longer than necessary.

After lunch Emily received her first reward notification while she was swamped with more work. She got so hyper focused on her work that she didn't notice one of her co-workers trying to talk to her.

Not that this particular co-worker minded. He liked to hear his own voice most of the time.

Don was having a one sided conversation for what felt like 10 whole minutes with out a single acknowledgement of his existence from Emily. No woman has ever ignored him this long. He really needed to turn up the smolder.

Emily was continuing to file away. Lost in her own little oblivious world.

It didn't work. His most smoldery smolder didn't crack even a single flirtatious smirk on her face.

D: thinking Emily you beautiful creature, you have no idea how much you drive my me crazy. The only woman who is immune to my to charms.

E: OH! Hi Don. I didn't see you there. How are you doing?

And just like that Quest 6 is over. Emily's new items will be sent to her house.

Emily was a little sad that her time volunteering is over. She had so much fun learning about the different Holiday Traditions. She will let Jasmine know she will definitely volunteer the next time she needs help.

E: Sorry Don, I got in the groove there and didn't hear you. Hope you weren't trying to get my attention too long.

D: No, no. not too long big smile You going to the Party tonight?

E: Yup. You?

D: Im on Set up duty. I could use some help. You in?

E: I guess so.

D: Great, lets hit up the warehouse!

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Thats the end of Quest 6! I had to skip the second pic in the last set of images due to the limited amount of pictures i could post, I didn't want to make a part 2 just for one picture. This isn't the end of our story i have 2 bonus parts coming next. I have a ware house story and the Pizza party story 💖✨ I'll catch you next time ✨👋

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Hi BPP! You seem kind if level headed about most things so thought you might have some advice. Since getting into bts I've mainly used twitter to keep up with things, but have long found it too stressful with the fanwars, the negativity to bts, some army loving dicourse too much and demands from some about streaming/voting (which I do anyway, but the guilt trip posts start to stress me out) etc plus reactions to anything seem amplified there. I've tried several times to curate my timeline, only follow official accounts and trusted update ones, but still a lot of nonsense ends up reaching me. I've even tried deleting the damn app, but always end up back because I've not found anywhere better for updates yet. Maybe its because I already suffer with anxiety that a lot of these things effect me more then they should, but with all the enlistment stuff I really think I need to find better places to spend my time. I used to use tumblr years ago (before I was into bts) and since blowing the cobwebs off my account and going through my old posts I remembered how much calmer being a fan on here felt, so I'm thinking this might be a good platform to try and spend my time on instead. My only concern is that I'll miss actual news and translations as twitter just seems a better platform for that real time. How do you manage your fandom experience? And are there any good blogs here you'd recommend? I just don't think I can handle each of their enlistment periods putting up with both kmedia nonsense and armys instant reaction to it like you said on one of your previous asks. I know it won't do me personally any good and if I'm just stressed all the time I'll start associating feeling stressed with the boys, which I dont want. Honestly finding your account where you actually discuss things in a calm manner has felt a blessing when I've been both over stressed by twitter and feeling a bit lost on tumblr so thank you.

***

Hi Anon,

I hear you on all this, but I think the way I 'manage my fandom experience' might not work for you because going by everything you wrote, I suspect we have very different personalities. Plus the way I stay updated is mostly from actually talking to people, friends in Korea and outside Korea, rather than checking in with update accounts and things like that. Like most of the time I'm online for k-pop, I'm online with friends on Daum... not Twitter or Tumblr. This is what I sort of organically developed over the years and during significantly crazier times in k-pop.

Occasionally I get asks wanting advice on navigating k-pop or fandom in general, and it kinda stumps me because fandom is just a microcosm of wider society so just do what works for you out there, in here. It's a process of trial and error, but eventually you'll create an environment you like staying in.

You're also doing all the right things already. You seem self-aware of your limits and how staying longer in an environment you find toxic could impact other things such as how you view the tannies + the fandom. You mentioned checking out different online platforms and I agree with you that Tumblr better allows you to isolate for what you actually want to see, way better than Twitter does. Tumblr, rather than Twitter, is the best platform to create an echo chamber which is essentially what you're asking Anon. I don't follow many accounts here and most of the accounts I do follow are pics accounts for the rapline and jikook, but one account I'd recommend that updates with current events for all BTS members very promptly, is @jung-koook.

On Twitter, I have notifications set on the official BTS accounts and usually add new events to my calendar right away (but this is also something I do generally for other events to stay organized). The people I follow on twitter outside of official accounts are friends who I've known for an average of 3 years (from all sorts of fandoms), as well as some producers and music magazine editors. I look out for people who seem genuinely interested in the music over anything else. I have a fairly big account on Twitter but I'm also a vintage twitter user (think circa 2007) and so I'm very comfortable navigating the madness happening on there daily. And this brings me to one big point: if you plan to spend any time in fandom, any fandom, you might have to work on your tolerance.

Basically, you can try to curate your online environment as much as you like, but so long as you're dealing with people or are anywhere you expect to interact with strangers, then you need a higher tolerance baseline. I answered another ask recently where I said fandom probably skews higher than the normal distribution of freaks in a population, so no matter the platform you're on, you're just going to have to expect to see weirdos. Like you might be surprised to learn that even with my apparent 'reasonable' approach with this blog open for less than a year on a 'calm' site like Tumblr, I've had my fair share of weirdos and manufactured drama. It's unfortunate, but also just par for the course.

The basics: block people you don't want to interact with, mute words you don't want to see or that add to your anxiety. You don't need to explain yourself, but also understand you'll still see things you don't like. With my personality it's easy for me unlook weird shit and focus on what makes sense to me, but for others I can understand if they need hard limits on that sort of nonsense.

*

TL;DR

Tumblr is better for creating echo chambers than Twitter. Tumblr is better for controlling what you want to see than Twitter is.

One account I'd recommend following here is @jung-koook who posts frequently and promptly for all the members.

On Twitter I have notifications set on the official BTS accounts. I mostly only interact with a handful of friends on Twitter though I have a fairly big account on there.

There's no shortcut to creating a space that works for you. It's trial and error but you seem to already be doing all the right things.

Develop a higher tolerance for weird. Fandom brings in all sorts of people, pay attention to things you like, block things you don't, and eventually you'll find your people. That's not a platitude, it actually generally works.

Goodluck Anon. 💜

[bonkers-4-hatter]

⇸ Words: 4,027

⇸ TW (Again): This fanfic has mentions of kidnapping, violence, assault, choking, strangulation, forced kissing, forcing self onto the reader at certain points and of course, Yandere themes and actions.

⇸ If any of the above does trigger you, please do not read. All characters are 18+ as mentions of everyone attending college are in the story.

⇸⇸⇸⇸⇸⇸⇸⇸

Nagisa was your first real friend.

Actually, he was the first person to actually talk to you at all when you came to Iwatobi. Being a foreigner it made a lot of the students steer away from you, but Nagisa never made you feel that way. His bright smile was the first thing that greeted you everyday at the school’s gate. It was something that you always looked forward to.

He of course introduced you to the rest of the swim team and you all became good friends, but Nagisa spent the most time with you by far. He was always at your house, pulling you to try new cafes and places to eat and just have fun. It was part of his energetic nature, wanting to go and do something, try something, but he wanted to do it with you the most out of everyone in the group. You never really gave it much thought through the years. You were close friends, you just thought it was him wanting to spend as much time with you before you went back to America...but now, you're rethinking everything he’s done and said to you over the past three and a half years.

Your hands shook, making the picture that illuminated on your phone screen shake back in response. You were simply letting the group know when you would be leaving. You were going back to America for University and while the rest of the group was excited for you and your new endeavor, some were making plans to hang out with you one last time for a while, Nagisa didn’t say anything in the group chat, the only indication that he was even seeing the messages was his profile picture showing up underneath the messages.

It wasn’t long until your phone notified you off the hook, one message after another. You thought the group chat was blowing up, but no...it was Nagisa messaging you privately with words you’ve never heard him speak to you, nor anyone before in your whole time of knowing him.

Nagi<3: You think you can leave me?

Nagi<3: You’re supposed to stay with me! How could you leave like that? After all we’ve been through? All those times I was there for you??

Nagi<3: I won’t let you leave (Y/N), you belong here with me...I’ll make sure you won’t leave the city let alone the country!

Nagi<3: I love you (Y/N)! Don’t you get it? We’re supposed to be together damnit! Why can’t you see that? You can’t be that dense.

Nagi<3: Is it because you like Haru? Makoto? Rei? Are you playing hard to get because you’re a slut? Flirting with them and ignoring me?? Is my attention not fucking enough for you? Have to go whore yourself to the rest of the group?!

Nagi<3: ...I’m just angry, you’re not a whore (Y/N), I really do love you! Please stay here, we’ll get a place for ourselves, I’ll take care of you (Y/N), have I ever let you down? Fucking say something! Please!

Nagi<3: I need you (Y/N), you’re my whole world and I won’t let you slip away...

It was too much for you to handle. With shaking hands and tears streaming down your face, you quickly blocked Nagisa from all social media along with his contact in your phone. He scared you with his words...he seemed obsessed, delusional even. You knew he cared for you, but you only thought it was as a friend. The way he dropped the word, ‘love’ made you shudder.

Saying he loves you and then going around and accusing you of being a whore and going around to the other guys in the group made you unsettled. Taking a few deep breaths, you sat your phone down making a mental note to not look at it for the rest of the night. Your eyes scanned the room, boxes still scattered around; some filled, taped and labeled and others empty or even waiting for you to build the boxes. Deciding that the best thing to do was get the packing done as soon as possible even if you were still a bit apprehensive. The lingering words that Nagisa sent you still swirled in your head as you went about packing everything with a new found mission to get out as soon as you could.

--

With a satisfied huff, you stacked one of the final boxes in the corner of the almost empty room. You felt a wave of relief wash over you as you wiped your brow and turned toward your phone that was on the nightstand. It was face down, but you did hear it go off, the vibrations echoed in the room, but you ignored it all together. It’s been hours since then and with the majority of everything packed and ready to go, it was time for bed. You had plans with Gou tomorrow to have brunch and just talk, a final hangout before you left.

After doing your nightly routine, you were settled in bed, the cool sheets feeling great on your heated skin from the manual labor you did. Your gaze settled on the phone still in place on your nightstand face down. You felt silly, you blocked Nagisa it should be alright, the notifications were probably Gou just double checking on your guys’ plans for tomorrow. With a final sigh, you quickly grabbed the device and turned it back around and pressed the side making it light up. Scrunching your eyes at the sudden intrusion of light on your poor retinas, you turned the brightness down so your eyes could adjust.

Going through notifications from various apps and social media, you quickly replied to Gou who did message you to confirm your plans for tomorrow. With a final kissy emoji at the end of your sentence and a tap of your finger, the message was sent to her. As you continued to go through what you missed the past few hours, your eyes stopped at a notification for a text message from an unknown number.

You could feel the anxiety bubble inside of you as you stared at the number, you didn’t want to even look at the message itself, but something told you to. With a shaky breath, you tapped on it and waited as your phone loaded the message.

You’ll regret that (Y/N), I’m coming for you…

That’s all it said. A fucking cryptic message calling you out by name. A threat that hung over your head and one that made the breath catch in your throat. A message not even ten words long made fear build up inside of you. Now, every creak and sound could be a potential threat at least that’s how your mind perceived it.

You knew this was Nagisa telling you this, but he was Nagisa, he...he wouldn’t do anything terrible...would he? Words are one thing, but the truth came out with someone's actions. Your eyes shifted toward your door, in the dark everything was more intimidating and menacing. Now fully sat up in your bed, you pulled your knees to your chest as much as you could and just stared at the door that was draped in the shadowy curtain of darkness. Your mind kept playing out a scenario of Nagisa coming through your bedroom door, a crazed look in his eyes and a weapon to hurt you with…the very thought made you shudder.

Between the packing and the interaction with Nagisa, you were exhausted. As you continued to stare at the door, you could feel your poor eyes start to droop, the exhaustion finally catching up with you as you tried your hardest to stay awake, wanting to be on alert if anything did happen, but all of that went out the window as you felt yourself slip into a restless slumber.

A softness touched your face making you shift in your sleep, but something else made you alert, a soft voice filtered through your room. You were home alone, your parents were away on a business trip, it was just you there should be nobody else talking in your house. Your eyes snapped open, trying to adjust to the darkness that surrounded you.

“You’re cute when you’re asleep.” A hand cupped your cheek making your whole body stiff at the contact. Flailing about, you pushed yourself up against your headboard as the figure only laughed and walked toward your door where the light switch was. You already knew who it was based on the voice and your mind instantly went to your death.

With a simple flip of the switch, light flooded your vision and there stood Nagisa, the same crazed look in his eyes that you pictured earlier, but no weapon, nothing to connect you to your demise. His footsteps seemed heavier as he stalked his way toward you like an animal about to attack its prey. “I was pissed off at you (Y/N), is that why you blocked me? Did I scare you?” he came to stop in front of the foot of your bed, his gaze lingering on you. You could feel your breathing become labored the longer he stared at you.

“What’re you doing here?” Ignoring his question, you sent him a glare, back still against the headboard not moving an inch.

“Coming to see you (Y/N)-chan.” Sending you a wink, he laughed at your visible shudder. “You’re scaring me Nagi.” His gaze was fixated on you so intensely, it sent another shiver down your spine.

He didn’t answer you. Instead, he left his spot by the foot of the bed and made his way toward you, his steps becoming heavier with each step. Your eyes glanced to the bedroom door and without a second thought, you bolted from your bed throwing the covers at Nagisa hoping to slow him down a bit. Your feet pounded against your wooden floor, your hands reaching out to grasp the doorknob, the thought of freedom just inches away.

Thud

The wind was knocked out of you, your body colliding with the hard floor, delicate skin skidding to a stop as a weight settled on top of you, not only pinning you in place, but making it hard to breathe due to the weight being directly on your chest. “Always playing hard to get, do you do this to the other guys (Y/N), like the slut you are?” His words were nonsense and not giving them a second thought, you started to thrash on the floor, your freedom was your only thought. You didn’t care about the bruises that would litter your body after this. He just laughed at your attempt to break free, even though he was the smallest of the group, he was just as strong as the others. With no luck, there was one thing left.

“Help! Somebody call the cops, I need help!” You yelled this at the top of your lungs, sucking in as much air as you could from your somewhat crushed chest. Before you could yell again, a hand was wrapped around your throat cutting off what little air you were getting.

“Shut up! Jesus, first ignoring me, blocking me, making me go to these fucking lengths to get your fucking attention!” Giving your throat a bit of a squeeze, nothing but a wheeze escaped you, your hands flying up to try and pry his constricting hands off so you could get air to your needy lungs.

“If you just stayed here, we would’ve been fine (Y/N), but you just had to go back to America! Is nothing good enough for you!? Why’s that (Y/N)? Answer me!” All you could do was continue to gasp and hit his hands. You could feel tears spring to your eyes, sliding down your face as Nagisa continued to choke the life out of you.

You could see black spots starting to fill your vision. “I fucking love you (Y/N)!”, by some miracle, he let up his hold on your throat. You greedily started to suck in as much air as your burning lungs could, but he still had a hold of your throat and the squeeze he sent was evident of this. “You’ll see how much I truly love you, don’t worry, we’ll be happy at my house. Just me and you and nobody to interrupt us.” Leaning down, he placed a tender kiss to your forehead before finally letting your poor, bruised throat go. Still settled on your chest, he peered down at you.

“They’ll look for me! You can’t keep me locked away forever! This isn’t how love works Nagisa! You need help!” His smile slipped, but he regained it quickly before leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss, holding your face in his hands so you couldn’t move away. Not granting him access, he bit your lip enough to draw blood making you gasp at the pain giving him enough time to slip his tongue in and explore his new territory. His tongue glided over your teeth, the roof of your mouth, even sliding along your own tongue. It wasn’t romantic in the slightest, it was dominating, possessive and it made you feel vile inside. When he decided to break the kiss, he was flushed, breath labored with a love sick smile plastered on his face.

“They won’t be looking for you silly.” Those words made you freeze in terror. Images of horrific deaths flashed through your mind. Your mind raced wondering what he would do to dispose of you. What twisted fantasy was he going to fulfill? “You’ll be right there with them, alongside everyone we know as happy as can be.” Licking his lips, his gaze settled on your swollen lips, but flickered back up to your eyes to finish his thought.

He wasn’t making sense, his words were nonsense to you. He didn’t give an explanation to his words, he just traced your lips with his thumb, his focus solely on the place his mouth was moments before. It was as if he was in a trance, like he was playing out his own fantasy in his mind.

“You’re going to tell everyone that you changed your mind about going back to America.” His thumb stopped tracing your lip, dragging down your bottom lip, your chin and straight down your now bruised neck. Your breath hitched as he applied the smallest amount of pressure to his thumb, pressing into it. His eyes bore into yours as he continued to rattle off his plan.

“Then, you’ll move in with me, the house I told you about on the edge of town, big enough to raise a family in.” His hands came back up to cup your cheeks, your mind reeling at his sentence. Children? Just something else tied up with the delusion he was putting forth. Fingers started to caress your skin, the contact making you flinch.

“It’ll be perfect (Y/N), us together in our house, still surrounded by friends and family, all you have to do is be good and follow what I say...or we can do this the hard way,” One hand left your cheek and traveled back down to your throat, fingers drumming against the abused skin.

“What’s the hard way…” Your voice was hoarse and held a twinge of fear that much was obvious. Nagisa smirked at the tone of your voice. He knew he had the upper hand here and one way or another, he was going to have you. You had an inkling of what the hard way was, but you wanted to hear it from him.

No words were said as the hand that was drumming against the bruised skin of your throat moved upwards, brushing past your cheeks making a shudder run up your spine before his fingers slid into your locks only to have him grip your tresses and yank your head to the side. A squeal of pain flew from your mouth as his laughter rang through the silent room.

Leaning down, hands still having a death grip on your hair, he leaned down to your ear, his hot breath fanning it. Ignoring the burning sensation of your poor scalp from how hard he was gripping and pulling your hair, he started to speak.

“The hard way is when I’m not so nice,” He stopped for a moment and nibbled on your earlobe making that vile feeling crawl back up. “I’ll take you, but you get nothing of yours, just the clothes on your pretty body, I’ll take you back to our house and lock you up there, probably have to chain you up so you don’t escape. Nobody will come over, you won’t be able to contact your friends, your family, nobody ever again. It’ll just be me and you. Everyone will mourn you and never know what happened to little ole (Y/N).”

Either way, you would still have to go with him, but the bleakest silver lining was you could still see your family and friends, you’d just have to put up a front. That still sounded better than being chained in a house while everything mourned and looked for you with no resolve.

His chuckle broke your thoughts. “I’ll give you a minute to think about your options, but I already know which you’ll be picking.” With that, he started to place kisses on your cheek, your chin, and down the column of your neck, the pressure on the bruises making you wince as his lips grazed over the skin.

He was right though, there was only one logical option, the easy way… as much as you hated to admit it.

“Nagisa...I choose th- ahhhh!” He gave a quick bite to your collar bone before you could finish your sentence.

Feeling a wet sensation on the infected area, you guessed he was licking at the spot. “The easy way. Of course you do (Y/N)-chan, I knew you’d pick that.” Pushing himself back, he stared down at you, a smile gracing his face, nothing malicious and crazed about it, just a genuine smile, the one you’ve seen countless times with friends, swim competitions, just the smile Nagisa was known for.

Leaning down, he placed a quick kiss on your lips, a nice chaste kiss that in another situation you would’ve loved, but in this instance it didn’t feel right, but starting now you had to put up a front, an act to please him, to ensure you had the chance to see your friends and family even though you’d still be kidnapped by your once friend.

“Now, let’s get some of your things to take over to our new house, right sweetie?” With a shaky breath, you nodded, trying to have a smile on your face as Nagisa finally got up from on top of your chest, holding out a hand to help you up, grabbing it, he hauled you up and pulled you in close to him, holding you to his chest.

Holding you in his grasp, he had his arms wrapped around you squeezing you a bit, feeling your body and taking comfort in the fact that you were finally his. “I love you (Y/N)-chan, I know you won’t say it back yet, but you will...I know you will.” Pulling back from the hug, he smiled at you once more.

“Let’s get your stuff, whatever you want to bring my cute (Y/N)-chan.” You didn’t say anything as you started to get your stuff ready, packing as much as you could in what bags you had. Nagisa was doing the same, the smile still plastered on his face as he even hummed while doing so. With everything happening so quickly, you haven’t been able to wrap your mind around what was happening, the situation. You could feel yourself crumple, the clothing dropping from your hands and knees buckling as you slumped down onto the floor.

You knew there was no way out. The tears started to pour, something you hoped to never show in front of your captor, but your resolve was crumbling fast. A loud sob escaped you as you curled onto the cold, wooden floor. The hands that started to rub your back made you flinch on contact. The once soothing notion only made you curl more into yourself wishing to disappear into a floor, wishing it would just open up and swallow you whole.

Nagisa's hands continued to caress your tensed self, as small ‘shhh’s’ came from him in hopes of comforting you. “I hate when my (Y/N)-chan cries.” Your position didn’t last long before you were pulled up, limbs heavy and numb.

Nagisa pulled you into your bed, on top of clothing that you were in the middle of packing before. With tears still streaming down your face, you were pulled flushed against his chest, his arms wrapped around your middle as he nuzzled into the curve of your neck, kissing the still tender skin around the area. Placing a few more kisses onto you, he pulled back and leaned back against your headboard bringing you with him. Kissing the top of your head, he settled his chin on the top of your head. “You’ll feel better once we get you settled, don’t worry (Y/N)-chan, I’ll take care of you.”

True to his word, Nagisa did take care of you. Nobody really thought too much about you and Nagisa getting together, the guys noticed the looks he’d give you during school and hangouts and Gou was just absolutely happy that you had a boyfriend. Your parents were happy that you ‘changed your mind’ about going back to America and Nagisa…

Nagisa put up the perfect facade.

He was true to his word, letting you still see your friends and family, but he was always watching and you knew this after trying to escape a few times, throat clenching at the memories of your punishments for trying to run away. If you obeyed, you were showered with praise, gifts and affection from Nagisa. He still let you go to school, work, as if everything was picture perfect.

“(Y/N)-chan, my sweet little (Y/N)-chan.” Nagisa’s hands caressed your sides as you were trying to cook dinner in the kitchen. Some of your friends were over and you were trying to finish the main course, but he had other plans. You could feel his hand slip over the curve of your bottom, giving your backside a firm squeeze as he placed lazy kisses on the back of your neck, sweeping your hair to the side.

“I’m trying to finish dinner Nagi, please we can do this after.” You tried to shake him off as you turned the silvers of meats over that were frying in the pan to cook on the other side. Chuckling, he didn’t even bat an eye at you trying to push him away, his hands coming back, both circling around you to grope at your chest and grinding himself into your backside. The force made you lean into the stove more, the heat emitting from the device hitting some exposed skin but not enough to seriously burn you yet.

“That’s cute that you think you have a choice (Y/N)-chan,” Groping your chest again he laughed at your gasp and even thrusted up into your bottom, your hands gripping the sides of the counter on either side of the oven. “Keep cooking while I have my fun and remember to keep it down we have guests in the next room and if you don’t,” He leaned down to your ear before whispering, “I’ll have to punish you later.” Gulping, you nodded mutely at his words.

Doing as you were told, you continued to cook the dinner as Nagisa continued to do what he pleased with you just as he does every single day.

That’s how your new life has been and unfortunately how it always will be.

[dokoni-mo]

Where Is My Friend || Platonic! Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Summary: You and Izuku walk home together.

SFW // angst to light fluff

Word Count: 1915

WARNINGS: swearing, crying, all might slander, allusions to su*cide, otherwise none

A/N: i hate all might as a teacher. sometimes i just wanna reach through the screen and punch him for the things he tells izuku to do. this is why i made this.

~~

Izuku was late again that day, and this time you were more disappointed than mad.

With each student that passed by you and through the gates, you grew more and more irritated. You were trying to hide your annoyed expression by burying it in your phone, scrolling mindlessly through the various apps you had downloaded. Every now and again, you would check through your messages again, double and triple checking that you hadn't somehow missed a text from Izuku.

Every time, there was nothing.

Your brow furrowed when you checked it for the fifth time, forcing you to let out a silent frustrated sigh.

Izu, are you ready to go?

I'm out front

Are you still coming?

Hellloooo??? Where are you???

You promised, Izuku.

All of these messages, and no reply.

This wasn't a new occurrence. Every single day it was like this, and you would oftentimes just go home alone in silence. Izuku would always call and text to apologize to you afterwards, though.

At first you would pick up the phone. But, it slowly became less and less, to eventually nothing at all.

You were angry for a long time, but it all eventually boiled down into a soft, quiet frustration. You wondered to yourself a lot why you even bothered trying anymore. Those thoughts eventually drifted off into memories of middle school, and that quiet, timid, nerdy boy that you made your best friend.

You wondered where that boy went.

You looked up from your phone and looked at the campus around you. The area was bathed in an orange light, giving everything a warm and cozy glow. It was a beautiful spring afternoon, one that you would unfortunately most likely spend alone. Looking back down at your phone, you checked the time. It was getting somewhat late, and you knew your parents would start to worry about you if you didn't head back soon.

Five more minutes. You would give him five more minutes.

Letting out another sigh through your nose, you continued to scroll through your apps, not paying too close attention to what you were seeing. Every other second, you would peer up at the top of the screen, hoping to see the familiar bar of a notification up there.

None ever came.

A handful of photos and news articles later, and you decided to call it a quits. It had been more than five minutes, and there was still no sign of Izuku. Not one single thing.

Fuck it. You were going home.

Clicking your phone to sleep and putting it in your jacket pocket, you squared your backpack on your shoulders and stepped down the stairs of the front entrance, staring ahead at the gate with a blank expression.

Going to U.A. was you and his dream as kids. You remembered how the two of you would draw pictures of your hero costumes together, how you would spend hours of the phone coming up with the ideal schedule the two of you would have and what classes you would take.

Where did all that go? All those late nights? All those days the two of you got bullied? All those times you would tell Bakugou to fuck off when he was mean to Izuku? All the times Izuku told you to be nicer to Kacchan?

Was it all for nothing?

Were you just a memory now?

Were you not good enough to be his friend anymore?

All because of his new quirk?

It's not fair.

Not fair.

Not fair.

Not fai-

"Y/N!" you heard a voice from behind you shout, along with the rapid tapping of shoes against concrete.

It was him.

You stopped in your tracks and turned around, looking at him with a somewhat surprised expression. His green hair was the usual mess, and he was somewhat sweatier than normal. He ran quickly to catch up with you, breathing heavily once he was by your side.

You looked down at him in silence, your face unchanging.

"I'm-I'm so sorry I'm late!" He exclaimed, getting better control over his breathing, "I-I was just taking off my costume after hero training today and one of the teachers wanted to talk to me after and I-"

"It's getting late." You said, cutting him off, "We should get going."

You started to walk towards the gate again, and Izuku stared at you with a somewhat confused expression.

"Right..." he responded quietly, following by your side.

The two of you walked in silence for a good, long while. Izuku would keep looking at you to try and grab your attention, but you ignored him every time. You kept your gaze trained on your feet on the sidewalk, his red shoes in your peripheral.

You didn't want to talk. You just wanted to go home.

Go home and never talk to anyone again.

Izuku tried giving you one of his bright, warm smiles, but you ignored that too. As much as you didn't want to admit it, Izuku didn't smile the same anymore. There was something always behind his smile, something that you couldn't quite figure out.

The two of you used to share everything together, and now he was doing nothing but keeping secrets from you. You were quick to notice this, and you began to do your own digging.

You were observant, you always had been.

What you saw, you knew no one would believe you, though.

You just kept it to yourself, leaving it to rot deep inside you and plant its seeds of bad.

It was eating you alive, and you were angry.

"It's uhh..." Izuku said next to you, "It's a pretty day outside, isn't it?"

You said nothing and just kept staring down at your feet.

"It was a fun day at school too, huh?"

Nothing.

"What class did you like most?" I really liked Mr. Aizawa's today. I like it when he tells stories about his time at U.A."

Nothing.

"I also really liked All Might's cla-"

"Don't."

Izuku was definitely taken aback by your sudden, harsh response, his smile instantly fading away and his brows arching downwards.

"What... (Y/N), wh-what do you mean-"

You stopped walking abruptly, giving Izuku a glare through your lashes.

"Do not mention that man."

Izuku stopped walking too, looking at you with confusion and a touch of shock.

"You mean All Might? (Y/N), why? I thought you loved him as much as I-"

"I don't fucking love him anymore, Izuku!" you snapped, "But how would you know, huh? HOW?"

"(Y/N), what are you saying?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Izuku!" you threw your backpack off your shoulders, the extra weight only adding to your fury, "Even before we got into this shitty fucking school, you've done nothing but fucking blow me off and ignore me! I try to call, you don't answer. I try to text, you don't answer. I go over to your fucking house looking for you, and you're not there either! Do you have any clue how fucking lonely that makes me feel?! Knowing my best friend, my ONLY friend, wants nothing to do with me?!"

Izuku slid off his backpack too, his expression now more worried than anything, "(Y/N), I wasn't trying to ignore you. I-I just-"

"Just what Izuku. Just where have you been, hm? Tell me."

The green haired boy's gaze fell to the ground.

"I... I can't."

You raised your hands up and let them drop to your sides, a laugh of disbelief bubbling out of your throat.

"Fine, I'll finish it for you. You've been hanging out with fucking All Might, haven't you?"

Izuku's gaze shot back up to you, his eyes wide. He opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off.

"Ah- don't even goddamn try. I know you have been, Izuku. Do you think I'm fucking stupid? Do you think I'm fucking naieve? I fucking see how you two talk to each other. How you have lunch with him every goddamned fucking day. How he always focuses on you during training. How he keeps you after school."

Izuku just simply looked at you in silence, trying to process what to say.

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, but you decided to continue anyway, "And I know, I know he's been putting shit in your head. Not letting you think for yourself, telling you that it's okay to hurt yourself. How it's noble and honorable to be bedridden for fucking weeks to save people. How you should never prioritize yourself. Well goddamn it it's WRONG Izuku! It's fucking wrong! It's wrong to tell a kid that. It's wrong to take him away from his friends. It's wrong to have fucking favorites!"

You were full on crying now, and probably looked completely out of your goddamned mind.

You didn't care.

"He was my hero too, Izuku!" you continued on, hot tears pouring down your face, "But more importantly you were my hero! You were the only person in that shitty fucking middle school that I could confide in. You were the only friend I had, and that fucking bitch took you from me! Every day I go home and beg for my friend to come back to me. I don't give a single fuck what that old man says, I need my friend back! I'm so tired of it! I'm tired of feeling like nothing, like no one wants to be around me anymore! I'm t-tired, I'm... I...."

Unable to keep yourself together anymore, you fell onto your knees and sat back on your ankles, wiping your face on the back of your hands and wrists as you sobbed.

"I just... I miss you, Izuku."

You broke down again after that, crying there on the ground for a good minute. This was probably embarrassing the hell out of you, but you didn't care anymore. You didn't care about anything anymore. You were certain that Izuku would want nothing to do with you anymore. You just both dissed him and his number one idol.

There was no hope for you and him now.

After sitting there for a good minute bawling your eyes out, Izuku gently knelt down in front of you. You could feel his big, green eyes on your face, but you didn't look up at him. From your blurred vision, you couldn't tell how he was looking at you, but you figured it couldn't be good.

You were wrong.

Suddenly and without warning, you felt two strong arms wrap around your fame, your head being pulled into a chest covered with a uniform shirt and tie. Your cries softening, you were quick to realize who they all belonged to.

Izuku.

"(Y/N)," he said, his voice soft but firm, "I didn't know you felt that way. You are my best friend, too. I didn't mean to forget about you. I was never trying to make you feel that way."

Izuku hugged you tighter, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"From now on, I promise I'll always make time for you. You're my hero too, (Y/N). Without you with me in middle school, I... I would have..."

You didn't need to hear him finish for you to connect the dots.

After along moment of fleeting, renowned silence, you wrapped your arms around the boy, holding him tight against you.

You vowed to yourself then and there, that you would never ever let him go again.

[ahgastae]

worst chefs in seoul (outline) – kim seokjin x gn!reader

➥ word count: 3.9k | reality/cooking show au | crack | fluff

➥ m.list

➥ a/n: we’re back at it again with another wip i never finished lol. this one is the outline for what was intended to be a social media au (as evidenced by some of the notes i left for myself), though it’s likely that’s not how it actually would’ve come out. i’d love to hear some of your thoughts/reactions, and i hope you enjoy ♡

day ???

start w y/n and yoongi goofing off on twitter

the whole y/n eating a moldy grape thinking it’s a kiwi thing

and yoongi panicking bc of it

could transition into them talking about the finale episode of their favorite show: worst chefs in seoul

they’re both huge fans, and equally complete disasters when it comes to culinary skill

yoongi likes the show bc he likes the competition aspect and tbh he got addicted after y/n forced him to watch the first season w them

y/n also likes it for that reason, but the main reason they watch it is bc of a certain kim seokjin

anyway, they talk about the finale, and then yoongi says something about the next season’s ‘nominations’ coming up soon

y/n jokingly says they’re going to nominate yoongi bc of that one time he made tacos with dog food

and yoongi fires back w the time they managed to light the microwave on fire making cup o’ noodles

they agree to let each other live

…..for now

sike!

the two actually do end up nominating each other w/o the other knowing

y/n honestly just thought it would be funny if yoongi got picked and yoongi was like “fuck it why not”

little did they know…..

while the nomination guidelines assure that the selection process is completely random, this is a reality show

meaning for anyone w a brain that’s obviously not the case

contestants are actually chosen by the show’s assistant producers and approved by the chefs themselves and then the higher ups

but who are those assistant producers??

none other than park jimin and kim taehyung

neither of them keep their involvement with the show a secret, and one takes it a teensy bit more seriously than the other

anyway, they’re usually told to find a batch of contestants (that they feel) would conjure up the most drama for the show

it is tv, after all, and they have to keep people watching

and that part is crucial

to their credit, they do (somewhat) succeed for the most part

jimin selects yoongi and namjoon from the nomination pool bc he thinks joon’s clumsiness w yoongi’s nonchalant nature will work for max chaos

and taehyung chooses y/n and jungkook bc while their competitive drives are similar, y/n’s subdued nature has a big chance for conflict w jk’s out-there attitude

(how do they know all this? they’re experts at what they do leave me alone)

day ??? 2.0

y/n (and yoongi, secretly) is ecstatic when they get the emails/DM/whatever that they’ve been “chosen for the next hot season of worst chefs in seoul!”

but then yoongi asks if it’s allowed for them to know each other and accept the nomination

like they’re best friends. is that going to present some kinda problem that’ll get them both kicked off??

should only one of them accept it?

(he’s immediately ready to sacrifice his own nomination bc he knows how much y/n cares about this stupid show)

y/n says they’re not going to let him do that bc they were both chosen, meaning they both should get to go

but—

“it’s fine!! we can just pretend we don’t know each other when we’re on set!”

and so they’re off

to some undisclosed location in seoul

day 0

jimin and taehyung are the first to greet everyone, collecting all four contestants together for a tour of the dorms

and y/n starts texting yoongi in a panic bc both of their dumbasses forgot that the contestants are separated into teams as soon as they arrive

yoongi prolly says smth like i’m two feet away from you why are you texting me

(y/n reminds him they can’t make it seem like they know each other)

yoongi acts like it’s not that big of a deal

prolly says there’s a good chance they’ll end up on the same team

and if they don’t they can just hang out in the dorms when the cameras are off and away

which is when jimin loudly announces that this season, each team is getting their own dormitory

and that contestants will be required to stay in their dorm while filming the season, except for approved ‘outings’ for the show

he moves on before anyone can ask what that means

they’ll be allowed to pick whichever dorm they want to stay in for the first night, since they want to get the contestants’ reactions on camera when they reveal the teams

but after they’re revealed tomorrow, it’s your dorm and your dorm only

y/n and yoongi automatically gravitate towards each other

they end up together in the ‘new’ dorm, which yoongi grumpily notes is practically bigger than their whole apartment

y/n wonders if they ended up in seokjin’s dorm, and gets excited at the thought of this being a ‘test’ to see which chef’s team they’ll be on

to which yoongi asks what makes this dorm his?

“idk i just...feel his aura in here”

“.......okay, weirdo. i’m gonna go ‘feel his aura’ in the bathroom and take a—”

“yoongi!!”

y/n can either ask what yoongi thinks of the other contestants or they can both pretty much blow them off entirely for the time being

idk which yet

day 1

next morning, the contestants are woken up bright and early by none other than our favorite assistant producers

the wake up call comes in the form of a new group chat between the six of them

along with a link to ‘download’ the calendar for the shooting schedule

(which is really an app/virus that disables certain functions on their phones)

((such as most social media and texting numbers outside their ‘parameters’))

after that’s all hashed out, jm & t explain that this group chat is for any and all notifications and updates about the show, as well as any questions and/or concerns the contestants might have

like

“can i just vote to eliminate myself now and go home?” and

“how do i get this fucking thing off my phone” and

“when do we find out what team we’re on??”

the answers to which are

no

you’ll find out when filming is finished

and right now!

they tell the contestants to get up and get dressed as their first day on set officially starts now

y/n and kook immediately jump into action and leave the gc

joon lags behind a little confused but follows the flow

yoongi, ever the people person, gets aggressive when they don’t answer his questions about their goddamn malware

“is this even legal?? are you even fucking allowed to just disable our devices like this?”

“what if there’s an emergency??”

“looks like you’ll just have to find out, huh?”

yoongi’s phone then crashes and won’t let him unlock it until the first block of filming is finished

jm: “oops ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ”

day 1 recap

we find out through our superfan what happens during the first episode

(maybe do something like this person is some kinda press/‘news’ account dedicated entirely to w.c.i.s. and the two chefs)

((mayhaps they leak the contestant list before it goes public??))

((jimin and tae could have some kinda unspoken rivalry w them lol))

anyway the story is told through them in a series of twitter threads

(plus a few messages from y/n to yoongi freaking out about the teams they get put on)

first event of the day is: the team announcements

yoongi and joon end up on team kim seokjin and y/n is on team jyp w kook

being split up puts a bit of a damper on their plans, and with this stupid cell block they don’t know if they’ll even be allowed to talk to each other

none of them get much time to react, though, as they’re then shuffled off to their respective kitchens

where they finally meet their respective chefs

and, lo and behold, y/n is goddamn terrified

jinyoung is even scarier in person than he is on tv

“don’t laugh at me yoongi!! this is the guy who made a girl sob on live television!”

“and now ur gonna be the next person what’s the problem lmao”

while y/n tries to get past their fear, they’re given their first official task: work together with their new partner to create a meal of their choice

the catch is that they aren’t allowed any help from their chef yet

and since the teams were just announced literally like 10 minutes ago, none of them have had much of a chance to get to know each other

(the network knows this, and does this on purpose since most of the seasons’ first episodes are spent either arguing or being completely lost)

things go about as well (read: badly) as expected

y/n and kook soon discover their very conflicting personalities and spend the majority of the round bickering back and forth about what to make/how to do it

meanwhile yoongi slaps a piece of sliced cheese directly on the stove while joon runs around like a chicken w its head cut off

in the end, team jyp somehow manages to come out victorious

they cobble together some (semi) edible banana milkshakes to present to the judges

(‘together’ meaning y/n wanted to make plain vanilla milkshakes and kook switched it for banana milk when they weren’t looking)

yoongi and joon tried (keyword being tried) to make grilled cheese

but between yoongi’s cheese-to-stove method and joon dropping their two pieces of burnt toast right before the timer rang

they didn’t get many points

as their reward, team jyp has the honor of picking what they’ll be making tomorrow

they’re given the rest of the day to think and talk it over while team ksj is told to reflect on what went wrong in today’s trial

back at the dorms (now in their separate teams), y/n finds that yoongi finally graces them w a response

(and that they were right about which one was ‘seokjin’s’ dorm)

yoongi tells them about ‘that little shit’ locking him out of his phone and that he honestly just wants to get tf out of there contract or not

y/n convinces him to stay and stick it out, if not for them then for the prize money at the end

yoongi then asks what dish they’re going to pick for tomorrow, and asks if they can pick something he at least has an idea how to make

cue y/n saying that they were thinking of suggesting one of seokjin’s signature dishes but not knowing if kook would go along w the idea

“he kept trying to switch out our ingredients for banana milk and i don’t know how to tell him to knock that shit off”

“honestly you know i’m not one to take charge but he wasn’t even listening to me!! what’s to say he’s actually going to listen to the PROFESSIONAL chef here to help us??”

“aNd SPeAkINg oF THaT”

cue y/n whining about how they wanted to be on jin’s team and it’s not fair that they both got stuck w jinyoung AND a bratty kid on their team

yoongi sympathizes since he was looking forward to them being on the same team, but makes y/n agree that if he has to give the competition a chance then they have to give kook one too

“i mean yeah he seems like a bit of a dumbass but isn’t that why we’re all here? bc we have no fuckin clue what to do in the kitchen?”

hmm...fine they’ll give him a chance

but they still think he’s a lil shit and don’t really wanna talk to him at all, let alone reach some kinda compromise on what to make

they don’t get much or a choice, though, as they both receive a mysterious message from...jungkook? in another group chat?

the contestants find that they have all been manually added to another gc

except this one is missing the two assistant producers who love to breathe down their necks

everyone but jk is immediately suspicious

is this some of trick to get them to screw up?

to break some kinda hidden clause in the contract none of them actually read?

wasn’t that thing they downloaded supposed to block incoming messages like this?

“but wait, yoongi, then how were we able to…?”

but as of right now, they don’t get any answers

and they’re all too afraid to ask anyone but each other

“well we’re all here so...we might as well get to know each other right?? :D”

this is where we get our first in-depth look at the four people stuck on this show together, who in their lives nominated them and why

(y/n and yoongi’s lying skills are put to a bit of a test as they each rush to pull stories right out of their asses)

kook talks about bambam and says his nomination said smth about “adding banana milk to everything f*ckin thing he makes”

he doesn’t really get why that was enough to land him a spot on the show but he thought it would be pretty cool to be on tv and just went along with it

namjoon talks about hobi and emphasizes that he’s not that bad of a cook

he just gets nervous and confused when it comes to recipes and cooking which expresses itself in the form of his unabashed clumsiness

joon then asks if they’ll really be prevented from having any outside communication until filming is finished

he, like yoongi, questions the legality of deceitfully installing the block on their phones

y/n says there probably was some kind of hidden clause that allowed them to do that, as they “can’t imagine seokjin would take part in a competition that abuses its contestants”

to which joon replies that they don’t actually know seokjin so they can’t really ‘imagine’ anything about how he will or won’t act

right as yoongi is about to jump in and tell him to back off, jungkook decides that that’s way too much legal talk for him

he forces changes the subject back to the gc as a whole and says that even if they’re prevented from talking to their friends he’s happy they’ll “at least have each other :D”

y/n feels like part of that is directed at them and feels bad for how they thought he was ‘just a dumb kid’ before

namjoon, however, is still hesitant

he’s not sure if this chat could get them in trouble in regards to the show and their contract and what not and says that they all should probably delete it just to be safe

but that is unanimously vetoed by y/n and kook (and yoongi, reluctantly) and they decide that if the block allowed it to pass through then it must be allowed

before joon can argue anymore, they all receive a message from tae in the ‘official’ gc

he briefly explains the lights out policy of the dorms and tells them that they’re probably going to want a good night's sleep for their ‘big day’ tomorrow

yoongi then says smth like “well...guess that’s lights out then” and jk responds excited as ever w “night guys!! see you all in the morning! :)”

and y/n can feel their soul leaving their body for even thinking anything ill about him

day 2

contestants are woken up bright and early by alarms they didn’t set

(“oh great, so they just hijacked every app on our fucking phones then”

jimin tells them all to hurry up, get dressed, and meet the chauffeur outside bc they can’t afford to be late

(“literally! every second you waste is money docked from the network’s wallet! so get your asses in gear, guppies!”)

y/n and kook get outside first, but yoongi and joon are nowhere to be seen

y/n decides to text the q & a gc to get the dirt on seokjin

they kinda start sucking up to jimin and tae to see if they’ll reveal any info, particularly about what the chef is like and if it’s possible for him to talk to the ‘other’ team’s contestants

and while the producers are pleasantly surprised that one of the contestants actually want to use that gc for something other than yelling at them

they unfortunately can’t give much info besides what most people already know

and confirm that one of the chefs talking to the other’s students was probably not allowed, but that it’s also never really happened before so they’re not really sure lmao

(“taehyung!!” “what? was i not supposed to say that?”)

jimin cuts the conversation short there as yoongi and joon arrive and they all get on the shuttle for the set

taehyung does say one last thing tho

“good luck!! hopefully they don’t tear u up too bad!”

but first

our superfan gives us the downlow on the competition and how it works

after being split into teams, the contestants will rotate between ‘training’ w their chef and competing against each other in timed trial rounds

prizes can be won for both events, but the ones for the trial rounds are generally more competition based while the ones for the training rounds are more about luxury/quality of life while filming

each trial round win counts as a point towards the team’s score in the competition

only trial rounds affect this score

once a certain number of points has been reached (5), that team moves into the next phase of the competition

instead of working as a team, they are split up and now have to work against each other to win the favor of their chef

and in the finale, after one last big cookout competition, an individual winner is chosen and crowned a ‘former’ worst chef in seoul

once the contestants arrive on set, the chefs reiterate that today is just a training round

(they all let out a collective sigh of relief)

and it’s a good thing everyone woke up so early bc they’re just in time to learn how to make breakfast!!

“it’s not like we had much of a choice-oof.”

“anyway! team jyp, since you won the pretrial round yesterday, you get to decide what both teams will be learning how to make today. so, y/n, jungkook. think carefully. what do you want for breakfast?”

y/n is about to suggest seokjin’s signature strawberry and cream crepes when jungkook, who is still half asleep, blurts out “omelette”

(also i’ve decided that jackson is the host of the show now and i’m not changing my mind)

and it’s decided. they’re makin’ omelettes

(y/n is only a little bit peeved)

shuffled off to their separate kitchens, y/n is reminded of just how terrified they are of jinyoung

sure, they thought he was scary yesterday when they realized they were on his team, but now he has to actually teach them and they can’t help but think he’s going to make them into an idiot sandwich by the end of the day

as such, they try to keep half-asleep kook in between them and jinyoung at all costs, even if it meant running around the kitchen like a lost puppy

jinyoung, fully aware of how the show portrays him and how fans view him, notices this almost instantaneously

but he unfortunately doesn’t get to pull y/n aside to address it before jungkook starts digging through the fridge for banana milk and almost throws the entire carton of eggs on the floor

professional chef jyp mode: on

and they’re off

it’s a little difficult with y/n dancing around the kitchen anxiously and jungkook’s absolute aversion to being told what to do (as y/n predicted), but jinyoung manages to whip them into shape long enough to (barely) make a ham, cheese, and “green onion? wtf is that?” omelette

team seokjin, however, does not favor as well

yoongi apparently doesn’t know what tf a green onion is either and just throws in whatever green vegetable he can find while jin is struggling to keep namjoon from setting himself on fire

….and it turned out to be celery

that, plus joon somehow managing to burn the omelette to a crisp, costs them the training round

y/n and kook start to celebrate their victory and actually working as a team when jackson informs them that their ‘prize’ is they get to eat what they cooked while the other team gets whatever is left over on the catering table

“i hope you listened to your chef!”

“...jungkook, please tell me you used actual milk in this”

“um…”

back at the dorms, the contestants share their thoughts on their first day of training, as well as their first official day w their chefs

(also include y/n saying something about their banana milk omelettes actually not being half bad)

y/n immediately recalls how much they were terrified of jinyoung, almost cutting their finger off when he glanced over their shoulder when they were slicing the green onions

jk agrees, adding smth about how he didn’t think a scowl could ever be so intimidating

“it reminded me of my mom’s face when she found out i tried to pierce my own ears in the bathroom in middle school!! i was too afraid to push the needle all the way through and walked around with it in my ear all day until one of my teachers finally noticed and sent me to the office!”

...ok jungkook

during all of this, yoongi and joon are both like...wtf

“seokjin was literally nothing but nice to us. even when namjoon almost set his sleeve on fire lmao”

“hyung how did u manage that” “doesn’t matter”

jungkook thinks the difference in the chefs is hilarious, but y/n is only upsetti spaghetti

they go on a bit of a rant about how badly they wanted to be on jin’s team

saying something about how jinyoung is scary and mean and they’re almost positive he can sense their fear or something and probably use it against them while jin’s team would be so much better on the sole fact that they wouldn’t feel like he would turn them into an omelette for getting something wrong

cue jk being all babey asking “you...don’t wanna be on a team with me? :((“

and y/n immediately PANICS and tries to explain that NO, it’s not HIM but yoongi saves their ass by saying that seokjin is just their favorite and that’s all

jungkook feels better, but then namjoon is like “hol up. we all just met. how could you possibly know that?”

insert more y/n fumbling and jk confusion

yoongi (once again) covers w some bullshit story that he was able to just guess that based on what y/n’s said in the gc so far

joon wants to question it further, but jungkook informs them that the lights out call just came in before he can

another yoony/n sigh of relief

in private, y/n freaks out to yoongi for almost blowing their cover to the others

prompting a short conversation over whether they think they can trust them or not

y/n admits that they’re warming up to kook, but is a little suspicious if namjoon will keep their secret yet

convo ends with yoongi saying something like “well, the kid’s right about one thing. at least we know we have each other”

end.

[highonchocolate]

Take Two: The Guardian in Gotham Chapter 15

First   Previous   Next   Ao3

“Spots off.” She muttered, face mashed into the soft mattress. Maybe if I just stay like this, I'll eventually sink low enough to become one with my bed. She thought, steadfastly ignoring the disapproval she felt radiating from her Kwami. 

Stretching, her fingers fumbled for the switch on the lamp before she flicked it, filling the room with soft light. 

Adrien's words looped through her mind. 

Your leaving made Lila that much more comfortable with hanging off me! 

Your leaving made Lila that much more comfortable with hanging off me!

Your leav一 

Shut! Up! Shut up! It's not true. It's not my fault. It's not. It's not! She screamed, trying to drown out the dark voice in her mind repeating Adrien's words back to her again and again.

“Ugh, Tikki.” She groaned, words muffled by her pillow. “That was a disaster!” 

She rolled into her back and stared at the dark ceiling, brain not comprehending her surroundings. Her mind was whirling with her body white一hot with embarrassment and anger. 

“Ugh! I don't know why一He never hinted一I didn't know that he was feeling this way!” She waved her arms angrily above her face, trying to explain as she stumbled over her words. 

“I don't know, Tikki,” she sighed, running a hand down her face. 

“I guess I never realized exactly how much he's been through.” She looked down guiltily at the quiet, shameful admission. Becoming one with the bed sounds pretty appealing right now.

“I always assumed he was fine, he was always so happy, always joking around, how did I not see it?”

“Marinette, I think the both of you need to talk some things out.” Tikki told her, not bothering to mince their words. “You'd both been dancing around the deeper implications of your reveal ever since it happened last year, and it was bound to blow up in your faces after a while.”

“Honestly,” they confide, “I was expecting it to happen much sooner.”

“Tikki!” Marinette snapped, pushing herself into a sitting position and crossing her legs. 

“Right, sorry.” They sobered up, flying forward to hover in front of her face. She locked eyes with them, her sad blue stare rising to meet that wise, ancient gaze. 

“This lack of communication, and the unspoken words that lie between you will only serve to push you two farther apart. You are two halves of one whole, yin and yang, balance incarnate. As soulmates, it is your duty to support each other. The weaker your bond, the weaker you are inside.” Their eyes burned with intensity, asking her, begging her, to understand.

Marinette dropped her head into her palms, looking through her fingers at the soft red duvet beneath her.  Her eyes burned with unshed tears. A white hot ball of anger tightened on her chest at the words of the Kwami. God, she was just so tired. 

“Tired of what, Marinette?” Tikki asked. She must have spoken out loud, then. 

At the question, she felt the tightly compressed ball of anger squeeze tighter, and tighter, and tighter, until一

She snapped.

“I'm so fucking tired of everything!” She lifted her head to glare at the ceiling, voice breaking as she struggled to reign in her tears. 

“Tired of all the responsibility, the pressure, from everyone! From you! All anyone expects from me is perfection! God forbid I screw up, or I'll have all of you on my case! And let's not forget that I never asked for any of this in the first place!”  She wiped furiously at her damp cheeks, batting away the warm paws reaching out to brush her cheeks.

“Don't touch me!” 

She stood up in anger, face twisted with fury and sadness. “The only reason I'm here is because some old man decided that since I pulled him out of the middle of the road, I had to be a hero!”

She suddenly collapsed onto the floor as though the fight had been drained out of her, pressing her forehead to the smooth wood as her body shook with quiet sobs.

“I can't deal with all this pressure, Tikki,” she whispered, her hushed confession loud in the silent room. “All the一all the expectations...I just can't.” 

“Oh Marinette…” Tikki cuddled close, humming comfortingly. “I'm sorry if I made it seem like a pressure or an expectation. But you do need to talk. And you both need to apologize. You said a lot of hurtful things一”

“Me?!” She interrupted, bolting upright onto her knees to stare incredulously at the Kwami. “Tikki! Why me?! You heard what he said! He said that since I left, Lila decided to feel him up more! How is that my fault?!” 

“一to each other.” They finished, fixing her with an unimpressed look. “Wait to hear what I have to say before you jump to conclusions.”

She sat back on her heels, feeling chastised.

“And that isn't your fault. He was angry, you both were, so you lashed out at each other. Anger can make you especially cruel and vicious. Boo一hoo the poor rich baby didn't get some hugs from Daddy? Marinette, that was too far. Just like how him blaming you for Lila's actions was also uncalled for. He’s been through a lot, as have you. You both need to work this out.”

“I know.” She felt tears prick at her eyes again. Her anger had vanished, leaving a knot of guilt and shame in its wake. It was an ugly feeling, and she hated her situation so much in that moment.  

Oh Adrien, what have we become? 

“I know,” she repeated, glancing over at her friend. “We need to fix this, fix our relationship.” 

Sighing, she flopped back into her bed. “But I hate being the bigger person.” 

Tikki laughed quietly, flying over to her nightstand and coming back with her phone clutched in their paws. Marinette let out a small oof as they dropped it on her stomach. 

“Text him.” They told her sternly, crossing their paws. 

“I'm getting to it!” She retorted, opening up her phone. As she clicked on her messaging app, a notification popped up. 

Adrien 

Message [Now]

She clicked on it with some trepidation, opening up their chat.

Adrien

Hey [Sent 6:56 AM]

Hesitating, she glanced at Tikki, who nodded encouragingly. Her phone pinged again, and she turned her gaze to the screen.

You

Hey [Sent 6:56 AM]

Adrien 

Im sorry for what I said [Sent 6:57 AM]

You

Im sorry for what I said too [Sent 6:57 AM]

She paused, considering the best way to word her thoughts.

You

Tikki thinks we should talk [Sent 6:57 AM]

(Adrien is typing…)

Adrien

Do you? [Sent 6:57 AM]

She inhaled sharply at the question, mulling it over in her head. Did she really want to talk about it?

Nodding to herself, she typed out her reply.

You

Yes [Sent 6:58 AM]

Adrien

Over the phone or in person? [Sent 6:58 AM]

She tapped out a reply, deleted it, and then retyped it.

You

Phone is easiest [Sent 6:58 AM]

Adrien

Okay [Sent 6:58 AM]

When? [Sent 6:58 AM]

You

Not right now [Sent 6:58 AM]

It's pretty early over here [Sent 6:59 AM]

Maybe in a few hours? [Sent 6:59AM]

Adrien

Okay [Sent 7:00 AM]

As if on cue, her alarm started blaring. With a sigh, she turned it off, pushing herself off the bed and making her way into the bathroom on tired limbs to start the day.

一一一

After the portal had closed in a flare of blue, Adrien had swore loudly and kicked the wall in front of him. Cursing at the new pain flaring from his foot, he transformed and returned to the Agreste Mansion, immediately turning and collapsing onto his bed. Staring at the ceiling, he’d let their argument from earlier loop through his head. 

一don't have time to deal with your little temper tantrums!一

一stop acting like you're a saint一

一pull-down chart of my schedule一

一count on one hand一

一get over yourself!一

一you left一

一take all the hits for you!一

一can't deal with this right now一

His ears had felt like they had been stuffed with cotton; he heard nothing but static. He saw his vision blur, felt something warm trail down both cheeks. He vaguely registered that his chest was heaving as he gasped for breath, but it all seemed insignificant compared to what he had done barely thirty minutes ago.

 What have you done What have you done What have you done一

He heard a faint, panicked voice calling his name, sounding as though it came from far, far away. He latched onto the sound, using it to pull himself back to full consciousness.

“一Kid? Kid? Adrien!” Plagg hovered in front of him, whiskers twitching agitatedly. 

“Plagg?” He had rasped, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Yeah kid, what’s wrong?” 

“I think I messed up, Plagg,” his voice broke on another sob, and he brought his shaking palms to his face to wipe away the tears staining his face.

“Kid…” The Kwami had looked pained, flying over at his admission to rub their head against his in comfort. 

“Adrien…” 

They paused, trying to phrase their words properly.

“What happened back there wasn’t just your fault. Both you and Pigtails were angry at each other, and at what has been happening, and it all erupted. Like Mount Vesuvius, way back when.”

It was a lame joke, and a terrible analogy, but it coaxed a hoarse laugh out of the teenager’s hunched form.

“I just...I feel really bad Plagg, but I also don’t regret telling her some of that stuff.” He confessed, looking down at his lap.

“Okay…” They said slowly, “You said you don’t regret telling Pigtails some things. What do you regret telling her?”

At the question, leaf green eyes had once again filled with sparkling tears, rolling down his cheeks with trails of silver. “I一I said that Lila harassing me was her fault! But it’s not! It’s nobody’s fault but Lila’s! How could I have just said that to her, Plagg?” He asked desperately, looking sadly up at the Kwami.

“Aw, kid, sometimes when you’re mad, you say things you don’t mean just so that you can hurt the other person. You feel ugly and mean, and you take it out on them.” Plagg gazed at him solemnly, trying to convey their thoughts.

“...When did you get so wise, Plagg?” Adrien had asked, a sad smile playing across his face.

“Kid, I was always wise,” they retorted, smirking at him. “My wisdom just chooses to show itself  every century or so.”

‘Well, what does your infinitely wise self think I should do, then?” Adrien asked, falling backwards onto the bed with a sigh.

“Apologize.” Plagg said bluntly, nodding towards his phone where it lay on his desk. “She said a lot of cruel things to you, but sometimes it’s best to forgive.”

“I guess.” He had sighed, sliding off the bed to grab his phone. Unlocking it, he smiled down at his wallpaper, a selfie of the five of them in the park, before opening up his messaging app. He clicked on Marinette’s contact and then froze, fingers stilling over the lit screen. What do I say?

Plagg curled up on his shoulder in silent support, nuzzling him softly. 

You

Hey [Sent 12:56 PM]

He looked over at Plagg, eyes wide. “I just sent it. And it was the stupidest text ever.” 

“Did you apologize?” They asked, looking at his phone screen.

“No!” He had yelled, sounding panicked.

“Quick, say you’re sorry!” The Kwami urged, nudging him insistently.

As he began typing, his phone vibrated with a notification.

Marinette

Hey [Sent 12:56 PM]

“Apologize!’ They hissed as he fumbled for the send button.

“I’m trying to send it!”

“Let me proofread it!”

“Get off, Plagg!”

You

I'm sorry for what I said [Sent 12:57 PM]

Marinette

I'm sorry for what I said too [Sent 12:57 PM]

(Marinette is typing…)

She said she’s sorry too!”

“I’m right here kid, I can see it myself.” The Kwami had responded drily. “Now ask her about that conversation.”

“Calm down, I will!” He said, typing out a question. 

“Oh wait hold on, she already asked.”

Marinette

Tikki thinks we should talk [Sent 12:57 PM]

He read the text, feeling his doubt rising.  He didn’t care if Tikki wanted to talk he did, he wanted to know what she thought! Did she not want to? Is that why she said only Tikki wanted them to talk?!

You

Do you? [Sent 12:57 PM]

(Marinette is typing…)

Marinette

Yes [Sent 12:58 PM]

He exhaled in relief, his shoulders loosening.

You

Okay [Sent 12:58 PM]

When? [Sent 12:58 PM]

Marinette

Not right now [Sent 12:58 PM]

It's pretty early over here [Sent 12:59 PM]

Maybe in a few hours? [Sent 12:59 PM]

You

Okay [Sent 1:00 PM]

Adrien sighed and shut off his phone, glancing at the time as he plugged it into the charger. 12:17 AM. It had been eleven hours since their conversation, and Marinette still hadn’t called. Logically, he knew that there was a time difference, and that it was around six in the evening for Marinette, but that didn’t keep him from getting antsy. With another glance at the clock, he clicked play on the next episode of Avatar, settling in to watch as Zuko and Sokka infiltrated the Boiling Rock.

[personasintro]

My Tiny Secret | 07; Choice

𝑴𝒚 𝑻𝒊𝒏𝒚 𝑺𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆 | 07; Choice

⏤𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; Pretty face doesn’t make it up for an ugly personality. And Kim Seokjin is the perfect proof of that.

⏤𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: seokjin x reader

⏤𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: angst, smut

⏤𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: toxic relationship, mistress au, strong language

⏤> 𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒙

buy me a coffee?♡

“Explain this,” he hears as soon as he steps into the kitchen, a stack of papers hitting the marble counter of their kitchen island. Papers he knows very well because they were well hidden in his nightstand this morning. “Are you moving out?”

He watches her cross her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts up in her white dress. The kitchen is clean without any trace of an actual food, which isn't shocking for him. And by the notification of the app which blinks on her phone screen, he knows she ordered food. She never cooks. Not that she doesn't want to, she just can't cook. Why should she? She can always order something.

“No, I am not moving out.” Seokjin answers her with a grumble, brushing through his dark hair with a tiring movement.

He is tired. After being stuck in a meeting for four hours, which got prolonged way more than he expected, he wants nothing more than just to eat. He never expected her to greet him with a good dinner, other than take-out she usually choose when they're not eating in a restaurant. The last food he ate was just a breakfast his secretary got him. He was never so thankful for a food in his mouth as that right moment.

It was his fault. He shouldn't have overslept the alarm beeping at six in the morning. It's not like he planned it. He never plans to overslept. He was just extremely exhausted when he came home from your place.

“So, what the hell is this?” she snarls, frowning at her husband who doesn't give her much reaction.

“I'm buying a new apartment. What's the big deal?” he sighs, walking to their huge fridge before he opens it just to find it almost empty.

There are a few bottles of milk and wine, and some juice. There was nothing he could eat right now, so he closes it with a loud thud before reaching for an apple in the bowl which sits right in front of his wife.

“What's the big deal?” she asks dumbfounded, relaxing her shoulders. “You never mentioned something about buying a new property.”

And? It's not like they share everything from their life.

He keeps his thoughts to himself, tired to let out any snarky remark. “It's just a two bedroom apartment.” he shrugs, making it seem like it's not a big deal.

What– it's just a small apartment considering all the other properties he owns. This one is nothing. Nothing that special, even though it's in a new building, completely furnished with modern furniture. It's useless to both of them.

“I know, I've seen the photos.” she tells him, shamelessly admitting the fact she scurried through the files without no permission.

It's not like he really cares. Yeah, he feels bothered that she went through his stuff, his nightstand but he's not scared of her.

“Of course you did.” Seokjin hums, biting into a fruit which doesn't satisfy his hunger but it'll have to do for now.

She ignores his remark, arching her perfect eyebrow at him as she watches him. “What are you planning to do with it?”

He chews, looking away from her sharp prying eyes.

She's not only beautiful and successful woman, but she's smart as well. She knows where he's been spending his free time, knowing his son was born just a few weeks ago without him actually telling her about his visits. He told her himself that Yoojin was born, but that's it. That was way before he made an agreement with you. He never actually told her he's been spending some time with him.  

She puts two and two together very easily. The two bedroom apartment is spacious but still modest considering their huge house they don't really need. The apartment building is just a few streets away from their house in quiet and safe neighbourhood. There is a private day care and school around the corner, suitable with someone with kids.

“You're buying her apartment?” she exclaims, her eyes huge before they glare at her husband who doesn't deny it. “Are you for real?!”

An angered tone can be heard in her usually soft voice, but not only that, but it's visible as her face is reddened with realization and anger. “So, what? You're a father now?” she scoffs.

“I've been a father ever since she became pregnant, Ara.” he remarks, knowing she won't like that face and his suspicion is right, when she glares at him.

She hates the fact that he impregnate other woman who is not her. She hates that she couldn't give him a child and now that he has it, she fears she'll loose him.

“It's your fault you knocked up some slut.”

He glares at her, not appreciating the venom in her voice because she has no right to be upset with him. It wasn't his idea to have an open relationship but he can't be angry, he agreed with it.

“I could've knocked you up, if you were actually fertile.” he snaps at her, biting into his lower lip right after once he sees her eyes widen.

A hurt washes over her features while she doesn't hide it, but it's only for a few seconds before she looks with so much anger at her husband. He scoffs, throwing the apple into the bin avoiding the daggers she's sending his way.

“That's not fair,” she says through gritted teeth, eyes not leaving his figure. “You should've be careful where you stick your dick!” she reproaches him loudly and for once, he likes the fact his house is huge and there's no way their neighbors could hear them.

“Don’t forget you started fucking different men first.” he points out.

He vaguely remembers how the whole ‘open relationship’ plan took its place into their conversation and that night when it came their new settlement.

“Seokjiiin,” A whine comes from her lips, her nails scratching Seokjin's thighs while her eyes linger on his covered crotch. He slightly moves the phone which is held in front of his face, before he arches a brow at his needy wife. “We haven't had sex for a month!”

He goes back to reading an email his assistant sent him, reading the same sentence for the past five minutes. He's getting distracted by his wife's touches and her attempt of making his dick hard is just annoying him.

“I'm busy.” he mutters, scrolling through his phone as she keeps scratching his naked thighs. He should've worn that pajamas pants.

“You've been busy the whole month!” she whines again and waits for him to say something, but ends up to be met with silence. She glances up, seeing his forehead since the phone is covering his whole face but she can make out the light illuminating his face.

But she doesn't give up that easily, despite of her husband not paying any attention to her. She smirks, a smirk which Seokjin fails to  notice, before she scoots back her face right in front of the bulge hidden in his boxer briefs. Licking her lips, before she dives down and her tongue drawls against the material of the boxer briefs. However, Seokjin has a different reaction to it than she expected and almost kicks her in the process.

“What the fuck?” he can't help but exclaim, the phone fallen on the mattress of their bed as he looks at her with widened eyes before he glares at her. “What part of 'I'm not in the mood' you didn't understand?”

He didn't pay any attention to her and her sneaky moves to notice her cunning motives, and he's just glad he didn't kick her head off.

“Seriously, Seokjin. You're useless as a husband.” she scoffs, covering her set of lingerie she specially picked for tonight's occasion with her robe.

“Go fuck someone else then.” he snaps, snatching his phone before putting it not so gently on his nightstand.

“Y'know what? I will,” she snaps back, standing up from the bed. “I will, Seokjin. I was thinking about it and I think... I want to fuck someone else.” she admits, her voice calming down.

He looks up, covering his naked legs with silk black sheet his wife got from Spain. “Okay, good.” he shrugs and her jaw drops on the floor.

She expected everything, or at least something. Everyone knowing Seokjin, a very tiny group of people knows, how barely affected he gets about anything. He's careless and unbothered, a perfect definition of phlegmatic you could say.

“Are you for real?” she gasps. “You wanna have an opened relationship?”

“You suggested it.” he shrugs nonchalantly, putting a toner he keeps stuffed in his nightstand, finishing his nighttime routine.

“But you're not against it.” she points out, a shock evident on her face.

She thought he would want her for herself, he would show some jealousy or something saying he doesn't like that idea.

“No.” he agrees, lightly slapping his face to get the toner into his skin more.

She stands at the end of the bed completely dumbfounded, blinking a few times. “I never cheated on you.”

“I never cheated on you too.” he tells her mindlessly.

He never had reason to. She's beautiful, anything man would want in a woman. And sex is great too, he can't complain about that. But he's been extremely busy these past few weeks and not really caring about sex that much. Yeah, it's great to blow some steam after a long time. But he doesn't like to feel pressured and he just keeps getting irritated by her attempts of having sex with him. She is becoming too needy.

“So, you wouldn't mind me fucking someone else?” she asks with opened mouth.

“No, if that's what you want.”

It's quiet for a moment, an awkward silence looming in the bedroom but she's the only one who notices it.

“So, you're going to fuck someone else as well?” she asks, suddenly not really liking the whole idea of sharing her husband with someone. But she's the one who proposed this.

He thinks about it for a moment, not sure what his answer should be. He definitely thought about fucking someone else, especially these past few weeks since she starts to becoming somehow annoying. He almost feels bad for thinking about his own wife like that, almost. But he never cheated on her, no matter how many times those kinds of thoughts occurred his filthy mind.

“Probably.” he says in the end, laying down onto his soft pillow turning off his night lamp.

“Okay, cool.” she gulps, joining him in their bed turning her night lamp off as well, enveloping their bedroom in darkness.

It only took a week for her to come home with red marks all over her collarbones and Seokjin knew. She already started and weirdly enough, he didn't care.

“She's only using you for your money,” she cuts off his thoughts and faint memory of their deal they made an year ago. “And you're stupid enough to give her what she wants. An apartment? Who is she anyway? She probably can't even afford to take care of the baby!”

He wonders if she purposely changed the subject, avoiding the fact she indeed started to see other men first. She's using you to get the frustration out of her, but she barely knows anything about you. She probably feels a huge hatred against you, simply because you're having a child with her husband. You've a one thing she always wanted and you wouldn't give it to her. The image of her holding a small baby, not minding the fact she wouldn't be a biological mother to him, is breaking her facade of a mean woman.

“It's not any of your business really.” Seokjin simply says, waving his hand at her to prove his words.

“We're married, Seokjin!” she yells suddenly.

Yes, they agreed on opened relationship. They've both slept with other people while being married, but they're still husband and wife.

“Not by a choice.” he tells her with a glare before he turns on his heel, not minding the doorbell which means delivery came. But he can't seem to be hungry anymore, simply walking up the stairs with an empty stomach.

[omniswords]

Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 10

omni’s on lunch break, quick post a new Chronicles update—

anyway, thank you for continuing to support this fic!!! i hope you enjoy this update and share the love!

from: itsdjbubbles

hey dude! i know you don’t know me or whatever but like, i wanted to tell you that clip you just posted was FIRE. and also i’m pretty sure we’re in the same city? i think i heard you playing this on the champ de mars yesterday. i didn’t have any cash on me but i totally would’ve given you some if i did.

anyway, nice tunes and hope you’re havin a good one

Luka’s only glad this message hasn’t been sitting in his request box for very long. Otherwise, he’d really feel like a total douchebag. And an ungrateful douchebag on top of that, considering the new clip he posted… isn’t doing as well as he’d like. Not even as well as the first version, the thirty seconds he recorded on his phone and slapped on the internet because his soul all but compelled him to. It’s not that he’s comparing himself to other musicians on here; he rarely does this stuff for the numbers, anyway. It’s more that he’s comparing himself to… himself. The thing that he loves doing, puts hours of himself into, versus… these simple, giveaway details of his life that he posts without a second thought, because, well, where else is he going to put them?

Is this the case with every artist? Because if it is, then that’s just… stupid.

It’s half-past midnight, but Luka still pushes himself out of bed and shuffles to the couch, using the light of his phone to guide his path. His mother and Juleka are surprisingly asleep by now—he’s pretty sure at least half of France is, in spite of what this city has to offer—but he’s hardly ever been opposed to the comfort of the quiet and the dark. At least it gives him a chance to read the message a few more times.

It’s not often that people reach out to him privately. In fact, most of his direct messages are from people he’d befriended on other social media platforms, or occasionally someone who, like this Bubbles person, just wanted to let him know they liked his work and hoped he was having a nice day. It’s not that he thinks that he’s better than the people who are brave enough to reach out. He’s just never really known how to answer those kinds of messages beyond a thank you, so he’s tended to leave them be, or worse—never accept them in the first place, so they’d never know he read them at all.

It sort of makes him wonder how people dealt with situations like this a century or two ago. Maybe they just never left their houses, so they could never be called upon. So they never had to be known.

That wouldn’t be so bad, if he didn’t have to make money. Or if he didn’t like the sun so much.

Well. He supposes with technology like this, he’s coming pretty close.

Out of curiosity, Luka taps Bubbles’s icon, just to peek at their profile. He balks at the follower count—it’s well over a thousand—and judging by the content they post, he’s pretty sure almost none of them are those stupid bots looking to make ad revenue or ensure their devices are brimming with viruses. Or worse—argue against human rights, as though they’re something to be argued against. Bubbles’s page is funny, and vibrant, and rife with links to this other website he’s only ever heard of in jokes. It makes him halfway wonder how many of Bubbles’s posts have blown up—and how many they’ve actually responded to with a tip jar link or a peep my Soundcloud.

Whatever this Bubbles person is doing, it’s working. And it’s working right.

They don’t have any pictures of themselves on their page, or even as their profile picture. In fact, the most Luka finds is a silhouette of them from a nightclub, somehow darker than black and highlighted by strobes of bold, bright light. And the most he can make out of that is the rim of a pair of round glasses, and layers of thick dreadlocks.

It probably doesn’t matter. Even if he pulled off some crazed theorist thing with wild hair and enough red yarn to map out every arrondissement, he probably couldn’t have picked out glasses and dreadlocks out of a crowd on the Champ de Mars if he tried and wasn’t distracted by his own work.

But what could it hurt to say hi back?

Luka pops in his headphones, because the music is the only thing that actually lets him concentrate, and starts to type his response in the notes app on his phone. He doesn’t want to accidentally send something he hasn’t read and reread, or hasn’t even finished typing. And if Bubbles just so happens to be checking their messages, he doesn’t want to keep them waiting with all the typing and deleting and re-typing and re-deleting. He’s been on the receiving end of those eerily calm ellipses enough times to never want to subject anyone else to that. Eventually—and eventually is a long time, even for him—he comes up with something he’s actually satisfied with.

to: itsdjbubbles

hey, sorry for replying so late, i didn’t get any notification. but thanks for the compliment. it’s really cool of you to message me in the first place, i appreciate it. sorry about the cash thing, but don’t worry about it. i’d like to do it full-time someday, but it’s more of a side hustle thing for now. maybe i’ll get one of those venmo or cashapp things for people who don’t carry cash. (i mean, you’re right, who does that, anyway? it’s the 21st century.)

With a deep breath and both legs bouncing, Luka taps the SEND button. And then he decides that was an awkward place to end a message, because apparently you can read and reread and edit and re-edit, and you’ll still find every little thing wrong after you post, so he sends a follow-up message as quickly as he can.

anyway, thanks for the message. hope you’re having a good night.

Assuming Bubbles is even awake.

As soon as he puts his phone face-down in his lap, his blood runs cold with relief, and his hands start to tremble and tingle in spite of how the music still blasts in his ears. He tries to calm himself down by placing the color of each song, but after just a few of them he starts feeling that familiar buzz of sensory overload. In the end, he has to lie back and close his eyes and bask in total silence, just to get his head back on straight.

A message.

He sent a message.

His phone buzzes from its place on his stomach, and immediately he scrambles for it, squinting against the bright light of his screen. There’s a single notification.

Bubbles.

He shouldn’t already be this excited to talk to Bubbles.

from: itsdjbubbles

dude, you’re still up? don’t you have work in the morning?

from: itsdjbubbles

no but for real, you should consider sharing on other sites or picking up some other gigs if you haven’t already.

from: itsdjbubbles

like lol i know we just met and all but i know a place i DJ sometimes that’d totally like your vibe. just lmk if you’re interested?

from: itsdjbubbles

anyway, we should probably get some sleep huh. g’night!

It’s… funny. How this is all it takes for opportunity to fall into his lap.

Luka gets to his feet, a tired grin inching its way across his face, and shuffles right back to bed, another message under his thumb. Except this time, he doesn’t bother to open up his notes. If Bubbles knows he’s up, he might as well own it. Just for now.

to: itsdjbubbles

i’m going, i’m going, don’t worry, haha.

to: itsdjbubbles

yeah, i’ll think about it. why don’t you send me their info?

from: itsdjbubbles

you got it, dude.

from: itsdjbubbles

also

from: itsdjbubbles

good luck with CBG and all

from: itsdjbubbles

though from the looks of it, maybe you won’t need it??

Luka’s eyes blow wide open enough to start asking in his head, what does it mean? what does it all mean? Instead, he presses his phone to his face, because asking—and screaming—will definitely wake up his family, and types out one more reply.

to: itsdjbubbles

trust me. vaguely knowing her, i think i will.

[kalypsichor]

five’s a crowd [ beatles x reader ] part seven

summary: You’re not jealous of the fact that girls on Tinder love George, you’re not. John may or may not be sexually attracted to metaphors. Paul may or may not have a professor kink. Ringo is just vibin’ like always. Gigi Hadid terrorizes your dreams. Oh, and y’all finally get the McLennon sandwhich you asked for.

warnings: 2k words of the usual bullshit, some english major bashing, actually it’s just john bashing ( sorry @spaceyantique​ ), i love english majors, and miscommunication babey!

masterlist and parts one | two | three | four | five | six

i’m writing this draft at 3 am. it’s a new low for me. oh, and the poem mentioned in geo’s tinder is lyrics from ‘for you blue’

“Well, it is a flattering picture.”

You have to agree with Ringo. The two of you are perched on the couch, peeking over George’s shoulder at the Tinder profile. John and Paul are sharing the armchair, snickering at something. Probably another scheme. Bastards…

The photo is the one John had snapped a few days ago of George in the kitchen. He’s got this brilliant smile on his face, just having taken his first warm shower in weeks, and he’s gloriously naked from the belly button up. It’s a little blurry, but it captures George’s happiness—though you privately think that no picture could ever really do the boy justice. Take that, stupid Tinder girls.

“‘George.’” Ringo reads the bio out loud. “‘Twenty-one. Majoring in horticultural science, looking for a girl to put the ‘ho’ into it.’ This is terrible,” he says rather gleefully. George turns around and gives his friend a betrayed look.

“You missed the best bit. ‘I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you. You looked at me, that’s all you had to do.’ What’s that?”

George goes stock still. Slowly, his head turns to John and you swear you can hear it creak like a door hinge.

“You.” The word shakes from his throat with a quiet rage. “You looked through mY DIARY???”

“YOU HAVE A DIARY?” Ringo screeches. Paul has the common sense to look a little frightened, but his boyfriend, who borrows a brain cell from Paul from time to time, does not.

“You write beautiful poetry, George,” John croons, and you have to physically hold George down to keep him from tackling the dumbass. Paul, getting flashbacks to the Shower Debacle, shudders.

You, on the other hand, are trying to wrap your head around the bio. Poetry? About who? That didn’t sound like it was about just anybody. Lucky girl, your mind hisses. Or boy. You immediately try recalling every single time George has brought up a classmate. Your brain sputters a bit and spits out an answer to one of the questions you’d skipped on your first midterm yesterday. Except now it’s fucking useless, isn’t it????

Ringo speaks, bringing you out of your downward spiral into insanity. “Hey, the app says you’ve got a match.”

Frowning, George taps on the notification. “But I haven’t even looked at anyone’s profile.”

“I did you a favor and swiped right a couple o’ times,” John says. George groans—no, the sound does not turn you on a little—and hangs his head forward. By ‘a couple,’ John must’ve meant a couple hundred, because George’s phone is blowing up. The only thing keeping George from hurtling the phone right into John’s smarmy little meerkat grin so hard that he shits pieces of it out for weeks is your hand on him. The warmth of it is radiating out from his shoulder to his chest and sweeping down to his toes. When you take your hand away a few seconds later, thinking it had overstayed its welcome, George has to try very hard not to sigh.

“This one is cute,” Ringo comments. The notification had read ‘Maureen Super Likes You!’ and the phone screen is now showing a pretty brunette, around your age, smiling up at George.

“Yeah, well, I’m not interested.”

He didn’t say she wasn’t cute.

“Wait, wait!” John scrambles out of his armchair, nearly pushing Paul off in the process. George’s thumb pauses where it’s hovering over the ‘delete’ button for the app. “Come on, Geo. You haven’t gone out in years. Like, since high school. Since… since…”

“Pattie,” Ringo says. You and Ringo hadn’t known the other three in high school, but, as always, he was good with names.

Pattie? George has never mentioned a Pattie...

“Yeah, Pattie!” John lights up. You wish people would stop saying her name. “Pattie Boyd. Man, she was a catch… I still remember her blonde hair. And those long legs. She looked like, uh… who’s that model?”

“Bridget Bardot.” Ringo, again.

Paul is mirroring the sour look on your face, though he obviously has a better reason for it.

“No, who the fuck is that? I meant Gigi Hadid. Isn’t that why you dated her?”

“She did not/” George protests. “And no, John, unlike some people, I care about more than just looks.”

At this point, Paul looks as though he’s about to cry. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m more than looks, aren’t I?”

“I didn’t mean you, obviously.” But George’s words are lost under John, who leaps back into the armchair and coos at his boyfriend.

“Macca, you know I love you for more than your looks. You’ve got that big old brain, and you’re the best artist in this whole school… it’s just a bonus you’re so pretty too.”

Paul seems satisfied by this. Stupid fucking English major. John could get anything his way with just a few words.

“John’s right, y’know.” You and Ringo mouth ‘y’know’ at each other and erupt into giggles. “You’ve got to put yourself out there more. You’re in your third year of uni and you haven’t even dated a single person. There’s only one more year before you’re out in the real world! And the sea will be much, much bigger then.”

George scowls, unimpressed by Paul’s little speech. “People aren’t fish, Paul. And I’m vegetarian, so I don’t condone catching them.”

“It’s a metaphor!” Paul cries, throwing his hands in the air. John nods and makes eyes at him as if metaphors were the sexiest thing in the world. He’s probably into that. English majors.

“You tell ‘em, babe.”

The doorbell rings, banishing any homicidal thoughts from your mind.

“That’ll be the takeout,” you say. George flies so quickly to the door, desperate to get out of the situation, that you feel a little gust of wind. You hear him say something to the delivery person and then he’s coming back into the living room, take out boxes in tow and a big smile on his face. Nothing makes the boy happier than food. And maybe leggy blondes that look like Gigi Hadid, your brain suggests, and you sigh.

For a good ten minutes, the conversation is put on hold. You’re all broke college students, after all, and getting Chinese is like a luxury.

“What’d you get?” you ask through a mouthful of food, looking over George’s shoulder. He’s sat back down on the floor in front of the couch again and he lifts the box up so you can see it.

“Veggies with fried noodles. You?”

“Same.”

“Twinsies,” George says solemnly, and you high five over it.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, John and Paul share an eyeroll.

“I got shrimp fried rice if anyone cares,” Ringo pipes up from next to you. You bump your shoulder into his.

“Of course I care, Ritchie. Wanna trade a shrimp for my broccoli?”

He nods and you both chopstick over the terms of the trade. George’s grin drops a little. John and Paul roll their eyes even harder.

After a while, having devoured their food like it’s the Last Supper, you’ e all pulled out your phones. You scroll through Instagram and send a funny post to the flat’s group chat, and everyone laughs simultaneously. Everyone except George, who… has opened Tinder again. Christ, how does he have so many matches?

Well, why wouldn’t he? He’s cute… and funny… and gives the best advice when you’re down…

And you’ll be sharing all that with some other girl if you don’t do something about it.

“Why do these girls keep asking about my teeth?”

You scoff, trying to ignore the pit in your stomach. George’s sexy vampire teeth are yours and yours alone to appreciate, thankyouverymuch. “Probably have oral fixations, the lot of them.”

John does a whole body shudder and you all turn to stare at him. “Don’t fucking talk to me about Freud. That Psych course tore my GPA into shreds.”

“Right, like you care about your grades so much.” You lean back against the couch. “What was so bad about that class, anyway? I enjoyed it.”

“Professor Pang fucked me.”

“WHAT—”

“Fucked me over! Jesus, I dunno why my mouth just had a seizure there.” John cradles Paul’s face in his hands, trying to smooth away the frown on his face. “Paul, you know I didn’t mean it.”

“That’s a Freudian slip, that is,” you comment, sticking your tongue out when John turns to glare at you. Ringo starts humming Hot For Teacher under his breath. John leans over and smacks him.

“The only teacher I’ve got the hots for is you,” John says, turning back to Paul, and you and George make gagging noises. “Professor McCartney…”

“Professor?” Paul’s Pout (yes, with a capital P) turns into a grin. “I like the sound of that.”

“I think I’ve been bad… shall I serve detention for you?”

“Okay, just go!” You point towards their bedroom. “Please leave the immediate vicinity right fucking now.”

“I’m gonna hurl,” George says. The two horny bastards giggle and scurry off in the direction of your finger, door slamming behind them.

You go to bed that night with a belly full of noodles and a brain full of thoughts that keep you turning and tossing in bed. And when you finally do fall asleep, you dream about Gigi Hadid, cackling as she chases you around with George’s stupid little towel.

***

Your second exam the next day goes miserably.

Okay, maybe you’re being dramatic. It wasn’t that bad—you’d done a fair bit of studying that weekend, invigorated to overcome the Coffee Incident. Still, you couldn’t stop thinking about George the whole time, and him swiping through Tinder, and whoever the hell that Pattie girl is.

Okay, stop it. You can’t hate her for dating the boy you like. Us women have to support each other, the rational part of your brain tells you.

You grumble all the way back to the flat, fighting with the reasonable part of you. Eventually, you give in. Rational You is right. Hating on a chick you don’t know is what makes up eighty percent of Hollywood’s bullshit romcoms. Yes, you are going to be a good person and take the high route.

That all goes away when you open the door.

John and Paul are standing in the kitchen, whispering furiously to each other. You only catch the tail end of what they’re saying—

“-didn’t think he was actually going to do it!”

—before John sees you in the doorway and smacks Paul on the shoulder.

“Heyyy there,” John says. You immediately know something is wrong. You walk shut the door behind you and eye Paul’s smile warily.

“What are you two doing?”

“Erm, we were making a sandwich for you.” Paul gestures exaggeratedly at the plate on the counter, which John holds up at shoves in your direction.

“Yeah, we knew you’d need a little pick me up after the test.”

You look around the flat carefully. It’s awfully quiet. Ringo’s at his twelve o’clock lecture, but you should be able to hear…

“Where’s George?”

This slaps the smile right off of their faces and neither of the boys can put it back on quickly enough for you to not notice.

“He’s doing yoga,” Paul says at the same time John blurts out,

“He went to visit his mum!”

Paul glares at John and you feel something twist in your gut. “Yes, you see...” Paul looks frantically to the ceiling. God won’t help you out of this one. “George went to pick up his mum… and they’re at yoga together!”

You walk into the kitchen, crossing your arms. “Louise lives in Liverpool,” you say slowly.

“Yup,” John says.

“And the yoga studio is ten minutes away from our flat.”

“Yuuup.”

You can’t believe he’s still keeping this up. “And the drive from here to Liverpool is four hours. And George doesn’t have a car.”

“Yuuuuuuuuu—”

“Oh, I can’t take it anymore,” Paul cries, ignoring John’s frantic shushing. “George went on a date with that Maureen girl from Tinder. He’s at the coffee shop now.”

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

You must’ve said this out loud, because Paul gives you a sympathetic look. After a long moment of silence, John once again offers you the plate.

“Sandwich?” he asks, trying for a smile that comes across more as a grimace.

You take the sandwich and throw it right into the trash, plate and all.

[duchesschameleon]

being alone vs. loneliness

summary: there's a difference between being alone and loneliness. seven months in Paris shows Emily how true that is.

AO3 link | word count: 1758

(a/n: this is pretty much a character study of Emily Prentiss after her "death" through when she first comes back to the BAU in season 7. it is my first Criminal Minds fanfic as well so I hope I did the character justice! unbeta'd but proofread by me)

It doesn’t bother her is the thing, being alone. Emily had grown up in a world, a family, where being on her own was not out of the ordinary. She can handle being alone.

But this is different. This is being completely alone and isolated from everyone in her life. This is Paris, with new identities and an assignment and an undeterminable amount of time before she sees a familiar face again. If she gets to see a familiar face again.

She clutches the mug in her hand, letting the warmth permeate her hands and hopefully her heart.

There’s being alone and then there’s this. Loneliness.

And loneliness is so much harder to handle. JJ had said that the team is looking for Doyle, that they’ll find him and bring him in somewhere he’ll never escape and Emily will get her life back. But Ian Doyle escaped a prison no one knew existed in North Korea. She knows there’s no prison on Earth he won’t find a way out of. This is her new reality, her new life. And that means no more BAU.

She inhales sharply, the ache in her chest growing and gnawing at her heart. No more being blown away by the sheer amount of knowledge Reid has, or throwing quips back and forth with Morgan. No more girls’ nights with JJ and Garcia, shopping and drinking coffee and reveling in the fact that they aren’t at work for once. No more joking with Rossi, begging him to cook for the team at least once. No more looking out for Hotch and making sure he gets home to Jack at a reasonable time. No more Aaron, no more working together and having each other’s backs and grabbing a late dinner because they both stayed at the office too long. No more invitations to his place for dinner because she doesn’t have human food in her apartment and he does need to get home to Jack. No more Sergio keeping her company and filling the empty spaces of her home.

She closes her eyes against the tears that have pooled up, letting a few fall before she wipes them away and steels herself against these emotions.

Wallowing will not help her establish a new life and new patterns here. She has an assignment, a file folder from JJ and a life to lead in Paris. She can mourn the loss of her team, her family, but she has a job to do as well. She can’t wallow in what she lost, not right now. Right now, she has to get ready to leave the apartment and get to work.

3 weeks later

Emily’s head snaps up, searches for her pinging phone. It’s a new one and she’s still adjusting to it, but sure enough, there’s a familiar notification on the screen. A smile tugs at her lips as she swipes open to the online scrabble app she’d found. It’s part of her routine, part of settling in. Playing a familiar game with someone who knows where. All she knows is “cheetobreath” just hit a double word score and Emily’s next move needs to be a good one.

It’s not everything and it doesn’t soothe the ache in her chest much but its something. It’s a start, a new thing to fill her time while she traipses around the city conducting surveillance and working on her new job.

It’s a chance to adjust to her new life. No, the newest part of her life. This is her life.

If Emily’s learned one thing, it’s that her life cannot be cut and defined in pieces. Nothing is that clear-cut. Her life with Interpol bled into her life with the BAU and now that life permeates her life here in Paris. Lauren Reynolds, Emily Prentiss, any of the identities handed over to her three weeks ago…they’re all the same person. Her feelings from each part of her life, each iteration of her, stay with her. She knows that. She can’t cut herself off from them completely so she’s learning to live with them.

To live with the grief of losing six friends. Seven, she reminds herself. Ashley was part of the team too, long enough to make an impression and for Emily to miss her. So she acknowledges those feelings, doesn’t simply shove them in a box to forget about and never speak of again. She might be a compartmentalization queen but that does her no favors if she lets the grief and loss fester instead of dealing with it.

So she builds new routines, finds her new normal. Online scrabble finds its way into that new normal.

And if she has a constant partner named “cheetobreath,” well, that won’t hurt anyone.

Seven months later

It’s the one phone call that could make Emily drop everything and run, no matter the consequences. It’s the one reason why she’d return to the states now, seven months after her “death,” when she knows Doyle isn’t dead. That even though he truly thinks her dead this time, she’d be willing to blow that cover. The best cover in the world and she would willing reveal the lie to him for this one thing.

Something happened to Declan.

The moment she received Tom’s call she was in motion, grabbing her go-bag and tote before heading out of the office, using the other phone she has to book her ticket, filling in information from one her aliases that has become second nature to her. Tom tells her he’s flying back as well, but that she’d probably beat him to DC.

Her mind races at that, thinking about how to best find Declan and putting together a plan for when she lands. He’ll be okay. Doyle won’t be able to find him. Even if she had blown Declan’s cover months ago when she was bleeding out in Boston, she knows that finding him, that getting to him will be impossible. Louise is the only person in the states who can get Doyle out of school right now.

And then she lands and there’s a message on her phone from a name she hasn’t seen in months.

From Hotch: Doyle’s in custody at the BAU. It’s time.

And so she shifts, getting into a cab and heading to Quantico. It’s time, after seven months, to reclaim the one thing Ian Doyle took from her.

Her life.

Seven months ago, Ian Doyle killed Emily Prentiss and the woman who landed in Paris with JJ has spent those seven months hiding from him, from the people she knew, and running. She knows that in reality, Doyle had taken her way of life and she was very much so just a changed woman but going back to the BAU feels like a step in reclaiming her life. Like its time to stop running and time to start living again.

As the cab races down the highway and heads to Quantico, Emily is hit with a multitude of emotions. She’s excited to see the team again, her family again, but she knows it will all be different. It has to be. She’d died. There was a funeral. JJ and Hotch told her about it when they visited her at Bethesda to let her know the plan.

She’d come back one day but for now it was safest for everyone to think that she was dead. It’s the best cover and the best way to keep her safe until they find Doyle.

The team thought they were looking for her killer, to avenge her death. And now in 20 minutes she would walk into the conference room alive and well and show them that the last seven months have been a lie and they’ve been hunting down a criminal who hurt her, not someone who’d killed her.

She takes a shaky breath, calming her nerves. There’s so much happening, and it seems like it’s filling the void in her chest, but she knows it’s only temporary. The team will react in different ways and most likely avoid her until they believe she’s really back and alive. It might feel like her loneliness is subsiding, that she can once again chose to be alone instead of forced into isolation, but she knows it’s an illusion.

The loneliness will continue.

A month later

The loneliness does continue. But it also is alleviated a bit by Hotch and JJ. The two who knew the truth and can more easily accept her back into the fold. She finds herself spending more time with Hotch as time passes and she settles back into her life in Quantico.

It’s not the same, it’s not her old life, but it is her life again. She is Emily Prentiss, member of the BAU. And that feels right. This is her life, not running around Paris with a folder full of identities.

And Aaron helps her make the transition. She starts coming over for dinner again, seeking out companionship after seven months of loneliness. It allows her to see Jack for herself and yes, he cries and needs it explained that just because Emily came back it doesn’t mean Haley will. That had been a rough night for all involved. Emily ended up staying the night, all three of them cuddled up on Aaron’s bed, needing the reminder that sometimes people do come home.

It breaks her heart and Emily tried to spread that reminder more around the team. She gives Rossi advice, listens to Spencer, and goes through a recertification for Morgan. She does what she can, to remind them that she came home and she is here.

Aaron calls her out on it and knows that the transition back to her life can’t be easy. So he’s there for her. He keeps inviting her over for dinner, makes it an open one. She can take him up on it anytime she wants, no pressure. She draws back a little, clearly exhausted from trying to be there for everyone on the team and overextending herself, but he’s still there to make sure she goes home at a reasonable hour and eats and takes care of Sergio.

It isn’t everything, she’s still lonely but its better. The ache that had seemed to permanently settle in her chest is starting to heal. Aaron’s a constant and JJ too, always having her over and making sure she’s okay.

Slowly but surely, Emily goes from being lonely to choosing when she wants to be alone. That distinction is back in her life.

[bobasheebaby]

I wanted to talk about a point someone made about mentioning mutuals on your fics that you think will enjoy reading. Its a great idea bc it’s a nice boost that can help make new/unpopular writers comfortable. It’s actually how I started off when I was new and didn’t know anything about "etiquette" or rules. People were actually supportive. Whether it was reblogging stuff or just being very nice to talk with. I never felt left out even though I wasn’t popular (1/5)

Oof Nonny a lot to unpack here.

Okay, first we all started out small, all had zero readers and yes it’s nice to think you can tag your mutuals and yes there are also those who don’t like being tagged when they didn’t ask. If it’s a really good mutual you are gonna know if they mind. I will sometimes tag my mutuals in things I found with low note counts when I know they will enjoy them.

There is no quick and easy way to find readers. I know I probably look dumb with my high note counts saying that but here’s the thing, not every story is for every reader. Even people on my perma tag who asked to be there aren’t into every story I’ve written, I have some fics that blow up and others that get crickets and I’ve been here for two years. You are going to lose loyal readers because they lose interest in the fandom or aren’t into the pairing you are currently writing but you will also find new readers in time. I have fics that posted at the beginning of me writing still getting notes, the right readers will find you, they just might not be here yet.

The person who suggested tagging mutuals also brought up a very good point, there are books and pairings in those books that are more popular than others. If you are writing for let’s say wlw there is a much smaller reader base there but it does exist. I wrote f!Cassian and got crickets but I also know that not everyone has f!Cassian.

I promise every single one of us still remembers when we were small, some of us still stay up all night to finish a fic. We also know that it takes guts to write and post. There are many blogs out there willing to help elevate newer writers, I am one of them @darley1101 is another who expressed the willingness to help.

I do understand the frustration and the hurt you might have felt when you read that post. That post wasn’t a way to keep you down. And yes it may seem like the bigger blogs only reblog each other but I promise we don’t.

Many of us have fallen behind in our reading. I know some have gotten to the point that if the person doesn’t reblog them they won’t give the same courtesy. Again this isn’t a way to keep anyone down.

We all have the same number of hours, but we all have different number of things to fill those hours. For some of us it’s not worth it to read and reblog someone who never reblogs them or anyone else because they only have so much time to read and they would rather spend their time reading and reblogging people they know appreciate them.

I promise we aren’t sitting on top of high towers laughing, we have the same insecurities and anxieties about posting our fics. We just have found a community of people that we fit into and yes we might read them first but there are many reasons you may not be getting read.

Tumblr sucks and isn’t sending notifications

Tumblr keeps changing the algorithm to be found in the search tags. Once upon a time you could tag, link your masterlist and be found in the searches, for a long while you couldn’t tag or link in the main post. It’s still hit or miss for me with tagging in the main post if I will be seen, I’m not linking because most of those aren’t being found.

No one is reblogging. There are more and more ghosts readers or people just liking. Likes are great but they aren’t seen. I tell this every time half of my favorite writers I found via a reblog that ended up on my dash.

Reblogs are being eaten. The amount of times that I’m in the middle of a long and wordy reblog and end up being tagged in the middle and tumblr decided I’m that blog is insane. When this happens my reblog is gone. I have to exit from the app and renter to be me again and start over, unless I was making notes as I went the reblog is never the same, I end up making it shorter cause I’m mad at tumblr especially after three or four times of this happening. I also know some people who thought it went up and it didn’t. It sucks. Also there have been times that tumblr didn’t bother notifying me that someone reblogged or commented on my own post. Tumblr really sucks.

The best way to guarantee you will be found in the tag search is to tag appropriately. Only tag the characters appearing in it, though I’ve seen some cases of that backfiring so tag the pairing and the LI in the pairing might be better. Tag triggers. Tag NSFW content. There are people who ask to be tagged but won’t reblog NSFW or certain triggers.

I wish I could give you a foolproof guaranteed way to find more readers but the truth is it is hard for all of us even if it doesn’t seem like it. We all fight for those notes. We all have to remember that we may not be everyone’s cup of tea. We all get anxious and freak out. We all spent hours on our fics. I promise it feels hard and like we are out to get you but we aren’t. All I can say is keep writing keep posting, don’t give up. There are other platforms you can try like AO3 you will see every hit but you don’t always get a million comments or kudos. Writing is hard for all of us, you have to have a passion to keep doing it, I still have waves of doubt and think “is it even worth it to keep writing” at least once a month but I keep going because at the end of the day I’d go crazier keeping my stories in my head.

[dreamcatcherjiah]

Part 1

Painkillers. That was the first thought that you could rationalise when you woke up. The pain had been getting gradually worse through the months, to the point that it wasn’t only your chest that hurt anymore. When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was the feeling of constant pressure you felt in the middle of you spine, as if someone was constantly pressing some object to your back, trying to reach you heart in one fine blow. You no longer felt the burning on your chests, as things stood at present. Yes, it was annoying, and it didn’t allow you to function properly on a normal day, but the painkillers that numbed your senses more often than not these days dealt with it marvellously.

So the first thing you did that day when you woke up was drag your cold feet to the bathroom and, even before looking at yourself in the mirror, you downed two painkillers with a few sips of water from the tap. They always left a funny taste in your mouth, those pills. Then you sat on the closed lid of the toilet, and patiently waited for the pain to go away. As an afterthought it occurred to you that you could at least have brought your phone and had a look through Twitter now that you had little else to do. It seemed that these quiet numb moments in the morning were the only time of day when you could snatch a few minutes to be up to date with the news and what was old and new about your favourite group. You’d been kind of disconnected lately, so busy with work that you hadn’t step foot in the dance studio for two weeks. It’s not like your body or its condition would have allowed it, anyway. With a tired sigh you decided that you could wait for the numbness to arrive lying on your bed scrolling through Twitter, just as well as you were doing now barefoot in the cold tile bathroom.

You dragged yourself back under the warm covers and reached for your phone in the night table. It wasn’t too cold, the case, but it gave you a startle nonetheless. Opening the bird app for the first time in weeks, you were assaulted with notifications that you ignored in favour of looking through the most recent tweets. And you worried. How would you not, when one of your favourite artists was looking as if he had dragged himself back from the dead? He looked smily and warm, but the bags under his eyes and the defeated curve of his shoulders told another story. Their fans, you along with them, were worried because his dance moves didn’t seem to have that energy behind them anymore. There was also constant speculation about the reason why he was constantly rubbing over his heart. The most adamant ones were even saying that he had found his soulmate and they had died and that’s why he was looking dead standing. It’s not as if they have any proof, though, you thought. The soulmate thing was a nice little bedtime story for those who believed in the long obsolete system, but that was all it was. There was no proof, either medical, nor visual it existed like it used to in the past. 

Taking one last look at his tired, but still smiling face, you left your phone between the covers of the bed and started your morning routine. Rolling your shoulders back, you checked if the painkillers were doing their job. Noticing the pain had somehow dispersed evenly through your back and it was a bit more bearable now, you set about seeing that everything you had to do today was done.

Not even lunchtime and you were already in your second pair of pills, now due to the headache brewing behind your right eye. How can a job that you enjoy leave you feeling like a puppet whose strings have been severed? Your coworkers are louder than ever today, laughing ostentatiously about some trifle article they had seen on SNS or some celebrity buying another ultra-expensive apartment you would never been able to afford even if you worked yourself to the bone every day for the rest of your life. Wow, pain did make you cynical.

Someone cleaned their throat next to your desk, and looking up, you just found your typical office employee, pencil skirt, silkish blouse and a huge grin. And you couldn’t for the life of you remember her name. But, the point is that you were certainly pass the point of caring.

“Can I help you?” You asked, feigning a bit of interest, but not so much so that she would take it as a clue to stay talking to you longer than necessary, worsening your headache. 

“Always so nice, Y/N! I don’t know how you manage!” I don’t, either, Karen. I don’t. “Well, what I wanted to tell you is that my birthday is coming next week, and I was planning on celebrating it at a cafe, but turns out something fantastic happened! Can you guess what it is?” Not even stopping to catch her breath, or give you time to try and guess, she continued, with such shining eyes you wouldn’t have been surprised if she started crying glitter. “I managed to get my hands in two VIP tickets for BTS’s final concert the day after tomorrow, and I know for a fact that you are also an Army… would you care to come with me, please?”

Right about now you were feeling quite a shitty person, if you were to be honest with yourself. This girl whose name you didn’t remember was offering a ticket, VIP no less, to the concert of your lifetime and you’d been cheekily half-ignoring her. Pain was really a bitch, how did you become this person you didn’t recognise? Even with her looking at you with those open, sincere eyes, saying please as if you wouldn’t give your last cent to experience at least once in your life what a BTS concert was like… You felt terrible.

“Hyejin-ah, Y/N! We are going for lunch in ten!!” Shouted another one of your workers, inadvertently saving you from the embarrassment of admitting you didn’t remember the other woman’s name. “You coming?”

Before Hyejin could answer, you called her name and took a deep breath, braving through the pain. 

“Hyejin, I couldn’t possibly impose… those tickets are incredibly expensive, and I don’t think I could pay you…”

“Don’t be silly, Y/N!” She chastised you, releasing a pretty giggle. “It is my birthday, and I want to share my happiness with another Army! The tickets are already paid for, the only thing you need to do is choose a nice outfit for that day, take your Army Bomb and enjoy the concert with me, will you?”

“But…” your words died in your mouth, emotion clogging your throat. You found yourself smiling, truly smiling for the first time in quite some time, and nodding. “I don’t know how I will ever repay you, Hyejin-ah…”

With a little squeal, she threw her arms around your neck and hugged you tight. Forgetting about your back, your chest, your head, you returned the hug instantly. You couldn’t believe how this girl had changed the course of your day in a few minutes. How could someone be so selfless?

“You’ve done so much for me since I joined the company, Y/N-ah!” She was saying, while you mused to yourself. “Thanks to you I could get a head-start on working here and I am so thankful! And I am so happy I found another Army here, and we can share this experience! AND ON MY BIRTHDAY!”

Her happiness was contagious, and soon you were laughing out loud, feeling so much better now compared to the previous… weeks, months…? You didn’t even care anymore. You were going to repay Hyejin however you could in the future. No matter how much pain you were in, or how tired you were. This girl was worth braving through it.

“Oi, you two! Are you coming or not?” Asked the same guy again.

You both took your coats laughing and headed for the elevators. What an edifying morning you were having. You had ended up with a new friend — hopefully — and the best present someone could have given you. What else could happen today to make it better?

The days between the good news and the concert came and went without you so much as noticing. Hyejin was gradually becoming a constant presence in your life. The day after her offer you brought her a cup of coffee and the day after that as well. You could see it becoming a habit, but she was such a nice person that only for the smile she gave you, you would make a little detour to get your coffees each morning. She was such a nice woman, Hyejin. You could almost forget about the pain in your body. The concert being a Saturday gave you all Friday night to panic, running through your apartment to choose what outfit to wear. Your Mang headband was the sure item, but the rest was driving you mad. Deciding that it was futile, you checked your bag for the battery, your Army bomb and your bottle to fill with water once inside. You were so excited for the next day!

Suddenly your heart constricted and you vision went black for a second. Your Army bomb crashed against the floor, but you didn’t realise it, as your knees collided as well with the wooden surface. Panting, you took your hand to your forehead in an attempt to calm yourself. You hadn’t been feeling so well lately, but not so bad either. But this was next level painful. No, you wouldn’t allow this stupid pain to keep you from going to that concert. Not even if you had to drag yourself to that stadium. Little by little, the pain began to leave, and you watched helpless at the clear pieces of your Army bomb looking at you from the ground, as broken as you felt.

As soon as Taehyung had dropped the bombshell, it had been decided that Bang PD-nim needed to know. The situation was obviously getting out of hand, the fans were beginning to notice as well. But what was worse was the slow deterioration Bangtan was seeing in the face and body of Hobi. He was usually his bright self when the situation required it, but it was obviously becoming increasingly painful and the last thing that anyone wanted was for Hobi to be in pain. A couple of weeks after they returned to Korea for the final concert of the tour, he had dropped nearly unconscious to the floor, whimpering and rubbing his chest over his heart. The skin on his chest had become dry and irregular over that spot he couldn’t stop rubbing. This situation was getting out of hand for all parties involved.

With the final and the comeback approaching day by day, they had asked their for a meeting, the seven of them, Bang PD-nim and their managers. Mainly to discuss the situation and what to do in case Hoseok couldn’t perform — which was out of the question, according to him. He was performing and that was final.

“So, you are telling me that you assume these pains, that the doctors you have seen have no medical explanation for, have to do with your soulmate connection?” Asked the CEO, with his eyebrows raising to his hairline.

“Yes, sir.” Answered Hoseok, bowing his head out of embarrassment. If it was up to him he would have downed a couple of painkillers and they would all be practicing their asses out for the concert, and yet here they were because of some insignificant chests pains. Yes, as his mother had told him, chest pains were something really serious, even more so for someone with such a hectic lifestyle as theirs. But, deep down, and after Taehyung’s confession about being able to see the string, he knew what was causing the pain. That was in part the reason why he was feeling so defeated lately. Tae could see the string, but it had always pointed away from them in the same direction. With them travelling around the world on tour, the only thing Hoseok and the boys could manage to figure out was that his soulmate was provably back home in Korea, since the string always pointed in that direction. Now that they had returned he didn’t have the strength to ask Tae about the string. Just seeing his wild facial expressions and the way his head would snap in a thousand different directions was enough to warn J-hope not to ask. 

“Son, the soulmate connection cannot be proven… no one can see the strings anymore, Hobi.” Answered back the older man, bringing him back to reality.

His hand instinctively went to his chest and started rubbing it. The painkillers he had taken that morning without Jiminie noticing were loosing their effect. How much longer would the meeting be, so that he could sneak out into the toilet and remedy that? Joonie’s hand stopped the circular motion over his sternum and with a look of finality, pinned both of Hobi’s hands to his leg. 

“I can see them, though,” whispered Taehyung, not making eye contact with the CEO. “I can’t see anyone else’s but Hobi hyung’s at the moment, but his is right here,” he said, pointing at a slightly discoloured patch in the middle of Hobi’s favourite T-shirt.

“You have been rubbing away at it, alright, Hobe-ah,” whispered Yoongi, eyeing the T-shirt and the exact location where Tae’s finger was touching Hobi’s chest.

Bang PD-nim was looking at them all alternatively, not really ready to believe what they were insinuating but, what other explanation was there to the state Hoseok had been for the last few months? If finding his soulmate was the solution to free him from the pain he knew the younger man was feeling, he was willing to look for that person himself even. Finding your soulmate nowadays was almost seen as a miracle, and these boys deserved the universe after all the hard work and the blood, sweat and tears they had spilled.

Yes, it was completely unbelievable, but then again, rarer things had been seen through the years. He could take a leap of blind faith for the well-being of his boys, for the well-being of Hobi.

“Have you got any idea of where this person could be?” He asked, setting the boys into a momentary frenzy of disbelief. Was the CEO really agreeing to look for Hobi’s soulmate?

“We have a general idea, thanks to Namjoon,” said Jin, assuming his role as the eldest and revealing what so many nights of speaking amongst the seven of them had clarified, “while we were overseas, for example, according to Tae the string always pointed in the same direction and we checked. Hobi’s soulmate is not in America nor Europe. No matter how much distance east we covered, the string kept pointing in that direction. As soon as we got to Seoul though, Tae started seeing the string pointing in random directions. It didn’t make any sense to us, until Joon suggested that for the string to change direction so fast, the person should be much closer than it had ever been before. For the most part of the day the string would stay still pointing in the same direction, until around 5 pm when it would change locations. The person must be here in Seoul or incredible close, close enough to follow the thread and find them.”

After Jin tried explaining Namjoon’s complex reasoning to the best of his abilities, gaining a nod from the leader, Bang PD-nim looked deep in thought, and none of them dared to interrupt.

“Am I right in assuming you are not only here for the logistics decisions for the concert, but also to ask for permission to follow Hobi’s thread?”

Looks were exchanged among the seven of them, Hobi feeling a strange sense of hope and trepidation filling him for the first time in months. 

“Yes, sir” he answered. No other words would leave his mouth now, his eyes fixated on the older man and holding his breath for the words that would free him or condemn him to endless pain.

“We have the concert tomorrow, we can’t very well drop everything and go looking for someone through Seoul,” at these words, Hobi’s shoulders stooped forward and his hands started itching in between Namjoon’s to reach for his chest. “That being said, I don’t see why we couldn’t use the days after the concert to conduct a bit of a search and, with the help of Tae we could find them in a day or two. Yeah, I don’t see why not.”

What happened next surprised every occupant of the room, including Hobi himself. He jumped from the chair, shouting “REALY?” Over and over again. His body was now pray of an energy he hadn’t felt in ages. Cursing through his veins like electricity was a feeling so exhilarating he couldn’t put words to it. Euphoria. Was it? Ecstasy, perhaps? He wouldn’t be able to put a name to it even if he tried, but he just knew he was feeling better than ever.

That was until something inside him told him his soulmate was in pain. He would be unable to tell what was it exactly that told him so, but there was definitely a nagging at the back of his head telling him something was not alright. 

“They’re in pain,” was the only thing he managed to say before his eyes filled with tears and he became a whimpering mess in the chair he had been sitting before, in pain again. 

“I think it would be better if you took him to the dorms for the night,” suggested the CEO, giving the poor man a warm look. “We will discus our plan of action in more detail tomorrow after the concert, boys. You just rest tonight, tomorrow is a very important day.”

Helping Hobi up, Jimin and Jungguk took him out of the office and towards the elevators. The rest of Bangtan followed slowly behind and the managers could hear them whispering among themselves.

“I swear, these mood swings are gonna end up giving me early grey hairs at this rate, I just want him to be alright,” Jin was saying while they moved slowly.

“As if you would know if you had grey hairs at the rate these people bleach our hair.” Scoffed Yoongi two seconds after. 

💞Tight Hearts (Idol!Hoseok x Reader)

Part 1

Plot: The red string of fate was visible when our grandparents were children. They would play around, following the strings from one person to their soulmate and laugh happily when these two people inevitably found each other. It was a reason for happiness. But little by little, people stopped seeing the threads. In bad times, it was dangerous, it was a liability, so people stopped seeing them to protect each other from harm. When I was born, nobody saw them anymore, they just felt their soulmate. Anxiety, happiness, sorrow, love, the hearts of the soulmates are one, feel the same things, but it is almost impossible to find your soulmate, now that the threads cannot be seen.

Tight Hearts Masterlist

A/n: Here is the first part of Tight Hearts!! I hope you guys liked it!! It took me so long to publish because I am a bit of a perfectionist and I want this story to be perfect, as it is very close to my heart🥺🥺🥺 Anyway, I hope you guys liked it! Let’s chat!! Tell me what you thought🥺

Send me an ask if you want to be added to the tag list.

Love 💜🌙

Tag list: @obsessoverthesmallthings247 @threedecadesofawkward @mabel-k3 @tremendousminyoongi @justignoremepleaz @demonic-meatball @hadaises @littlestsweetpea28 @rjsmochii @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d @gali-005 @salty-for-suga @indicisive-af​ 

[sad-af1121]

It’s You: Part 2

Summary: In which your date doesn’t go well and you meet a stranger who makes you forget all about it with his witty charm. But no numbers or names are exchanged between you two, leaving you both hopeless yet love crazed, never to find one another. Or so you think.  | Modern AU | Requested by Anon | Pairings: Bucky Barnes x CurlyHaired! Reader Word Count: 2.7k Warnings: Full-on fluff & comedyyyy, bickering between sam and bucky, language 

A/N:  I’m trying to get this story done before August ends and I’m just so happy I’m not experiencing writers' block *crosses fingers* And thank you so much for the incredible feedback from the first part you guys, it’s truly amazing! | Thanking @isaxhorror for giving this a look through!  Feedback is welcomed 💜 

PART 1

Focused on work, Bucky gnawed the end of his pen, trying to see where he may have messed up his calculations for a new design of technology that Stark Industries hired him to work on. Being an engineer wasn’t Bucky’s golden choice when it came to a career but he was pretty damn good at it. However, as much as he was a hard, talented worker, he always got too buried in once he devoted all his attention to it. 

“Buck, it’s almost 5. You can’t wear your work clothes to that date,” Steve breathed, sitting on his desk as the brunette continued to look down at his paper. 

“'N why not? I always look good when I come to work,” he stated, leaning back in his chair and twiddling the pen between his fingers now. 

Deeply sighing with annoyance, Steve crossed his arms over his chest, giving Bucky a stern look, “For the love of God, please go home and change into something decent. You’ve got grape jelly stains on your shirt. AND you smell of coffee and sweat.”

Bucky pursed his lips and shook his head. Steve did have a point but Bucky couldn’t care less. He opened his drawer and pulled out a Tide pen and Axe spray, two solutions to two problems Steve brought forth. After being stood up, Bucky didn’t want to continue the dating scene until after he felt the need to. As of right now, he wants to get his design done and manufactured before the year ended and having fewer distractions seemed necessary. 

“You’re fucking kiddin’ me right?” Steve gritted through his teeth, rolling his head back, “So what you got stood up! Big. Fucking. Whoop. Stop acting like a child. Clint told me his roommate is a really nice girl and with a great personality! Just give it a chance, please? Put yourself in her shoes; would you want a half-ass date?” 

The more Bucky thought about it, the more he realized Steve was right. It wasn’t fair and there was no way in hell he was going to ditch the date because being on the receiving end wasn’t fun. If Bucky was being honest, his retaliation and cold demeanor were all because he couldn’t get you out of his mind since last night. To think about someone else when you’re in the presence of another seemed cruel and it toyed with Bucky to the point that he just wished you’d get out from his thoughts. It pained him for wishing that but in a world this big, how was he going to find you; a needle in a haystack. 

Looking up at his friend, Bucky slowly sat up, clearing his throat, “Fine, I’ll be the best version of myself I can be.” 

A victory smile graced Steve’s face as he placed his hand in front of Bucky, the two high-fiving each other, “Atta boy! And before I forget, her name is Y/N.” 

Bucky nodded in acknowledgment. 

“What I miss?” Sam walked into Bucky's cubicle with a smile, chewing on his food that he held in a Tupperware.

“Is that my fucking food, Wilson?” Bucky growled, clenching his left fist that sat perfectly on his desk, his brows deepened with anger as he saw the ‘Property of Barnes’ written in Sharpie.

“Mhmm, sure is. I figured since you’re going out for dinner, you wouldn’t mind.” He smiled smugly, taking another bite of the chicken linguine pasta with alfredo sauce; one of Bucky’s favorite meals. 

The pen in Bucky's hand snapped in two as his anger progressed. “I hope you choke on it.”

***

The soft panic that resided deep inside your chest kept coming and going, like a wave crashing on the shore. It wasn’t unusual, you were used to having this feeling whenever you were embarking on something new, something that you’ve never come across before. Online dating apps made things easier because you had a face to put with their descriptions and it allowed you to talk to them before setting anything up. But one thing you were good at was keeping your cool when things didn’t seem as bad as your mind had pictured it. 

Adjusting the sleeves to your off the shoulder striped blouse, you admired the way your outfit sculpted your body as you gazed into the full-length mirror. You wore black mid-rise jeans with your blouse tucked inside, extenuating your figure a bit more. Loose curls that you were accustomed to wearing down were now stuffed tightly into a bun that rested on the crown of your head, a few loose strands shaping your face. You kept your make-up light and soft which balanced off nicely with a bold berry pink lip and highlight. 

While you were lost in thought, Nat entered your room, softly knocking on the door frame in hopes to pull you out from wherever it was you seemed to go when you zoned out. “Damn, you look good.” 

Your eyes shifted from your reflection in the mirror to Natasha’s, a smile blossoming upon your lips. “Thanks, I know I do,” you playfully stated, flipping your imaginative hair then turned to face her. 

“Is Clint here yet?” She asked. 

“He said he'd be here in 5 minutes but that was 10 minutes ago.” You breathed out with a smirk, walking to your closet. “I’ve got an hour before I have to meet up with the guy anyway. I hope he isn’t shitty like the one I had last night.”

“Hmm, that’s right,” she paused with a lop-sided grin. “You’d prefer that so your ‘knight and shining armor’ can save you like he did last night, huh?” 

You dropped your shoulders and glared at Natasha, frustration creeping up your throat. “It’s like you want me to kick your ass.” 

Natasha snorted with a laugh, “I’d like to see you try.” Her amusement didn’t deflate after you gave her a scowled look, only prompting her to laugh some more. 

“Fine, fine! Suppose you’re not interested in the date, do you want me to call and pretend our apartment is flooding or something?” 

Thinking, you bit your lip, trying to decipher if that was necessary or not. Then again, you didn’t want your time wasted if you really weren’t all that interested and didn’t see the date progressing to another. “That doesn’t sound like a bad plan. Kinda like an SOS?”

“Exactly!” The red-head beamed, shifting on your bed. “Just shoot me a text and I’ll call. But if you can’t pick up after my second call, I’m coming down there then. Deal?” 

“Deal!” You laughed, excited that you had a backup plan just in case. You weren’t sure if you were looking more forward to Nat’s mission to save you or the date in itself, hoping you weren’t being overdramatic.

As your waves of laughter died down, the notification to your phone goes off with Clint’s text appearing across your screen. “I think Clint’s outside,” you wiggled your phone in the air and grabbed your bag before blowing Natasha a kiss goodbye. “See you soon!” 

***

A whistle withdrew from Bucky's mouth as he observed the restaurant before him. It was a two-story turn-of-the-century townhouse with a lavish old-wealth charm. The night sky was vacant of any clouds, painting the perfect atmosphere for the event. He was glad Steve sent him home to change out from his basic work clothes to something more compatible with where he’d meet his date. 

His hair was brushed back into a neat bun that sat at the base of his neck. The brown blazer he wore fit nicely upon his broad shoulders, the contrast between the warm brown and black t-shirt he wore underneath was a nice combination. His black pants were pressed and sharp without a wrinkle in sight and his black shoes were shined to perfection, enough for him to see his own reflection. The musky scent of his cologne followed as Bucky walked into the establishment, smiling at the man by the front desk who then guided him through the wave of diners. 

Seated by the long bay windows, Bucky looked around the room, gazing at the pendant lights that were scattered across. He basked in the architectural beauty, the white walls and furniture creating an illusion of a space so large, that you could fit more than a crowd. The view of the city streets through the windows was the cherry on top. It brought a sort of relaxation to Bucky that he couldn’t quite explain but could get lost in the sea of life.  

Sighing with anxiety in his seat, Bucky peered at his watch, reading 5:35 p.m. on the dot. Just another 25 minutes before his date would show up and god knows what was going to happen. He could hope for the best and pray this date doesn’t stand him up or else Bucky was making a date with the bar and its' drinks. 

Bzzzt Bzzzt! Bzzzt Bzzzt!

Bucky reacted quickly to the sound of his phone going off in his pocket before grabbing the device out and accepting the call, groaning in silence. “What do you want, Wilson?”

“Did you make it to your destination?” 

“Yes! Now leave me alone. She could be here any minute now and I don’t want to be on the phone with you when she does. It doesn’t look good.” Bucky whispered harshly, scanning the room to see if anyone was making their way to the table. 

Sam furrowed his brows, “Boy, shut up. I just called to check up on you. Had to make sure you weren’t fucking things up. Now, remember to be nice and smile, okay? She doesn’t wanna see a grumpy cat.” He teased, practically hearing the anger on Bucky’s face. 

“At least I can smile without having my teeth look like a picket fence,” Bucky snickered, covering his mouth with his hand from releasing a heartfelt chuckle as Sam let out a chain of curses. Looking around the room once again, Bucky locked eyes with a woman whose face was painted with an expression of disgust and concern. But Bucky doesn’t let that get to him, flashing the couple a sweet smile before looking away. 

“Alright alright, I’ve gotta go. Bye.” 

A few more minutes passed by and Bucky glanced at his wristwatch again, absentmindedly bouncing his leg with anticipation. As the minutes click away, Bucky's chest weighed heavy, making it harder to breathe properly. He was so nervous that he had to pee really bad but didn’t want to get up from the table. There was a chance you could be coming at any second and he refused to miss that. 

But when the waiter comes by to refill his glass of water, the pressure in his abdomen worsened and Bucky had enough. Rising from his seat, he decided to make his way to the gentlemen’s room, knowing he had a few minutes to spare. He didn’t want to stay in discomfort the entirety of the date nor pee himself, the pain a constant reminder of how awkward it was. But before he went, Bucky stopped by the host at the front desk. 

“Hey, so I’m stepping into the restroom and if my date arrives, could you possibly notify her and seat her too? I won’t be too long.” He swallowed, earning a nod of approval then rushing towards the men's room. 

~ 5 minutes later ~

With a smile painted across your features, you stepped through the doors of the restaurant, looking around the place to capture the sense of atmosphere and energy. You were glad to spot the bar, your tongue craving for something bitter yet sweet to relax your muscles and nerves. Just a little bit of alcohol in your system brought you down from anxiety and it would help in a situation like this. You were jittery and anxious, to say the least, a million thoughts running across your mind. All of what and how the date would turn out; for the best or possibly the worst. 

As you’re about to be helped by the host, Bucky treads out from the restroom, peeking over towards his table to see if his date had arrived or not and she hadn’t. Something inside him was relieved but also sad because he wanted to get this night over and done with. 

Unable to break his gaze from his table, Bucky hadn’t noticed you were walking in the same direction as he was. Without breaking his stride, he ran into your chest, causing both of you to lose your balance. However, if it wasn’t for Bucky’s swift like movements, he wouldn’t have saved you from falling onto your ass as he firmly gripped your arms and helped you ground your feet onto the surface. 

People watched and did nothing, going about their business. 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” Bucky spluttered, helping you stand up properly as a wave of utter embarrassment and mortification washed over him.   

“No no, I'm sorry. I should've paid close attention,” you said, letting go of Bucky and adjusting the strap of your purse over your shoulder. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

“No, I’m fine. What ab-” Bucky paused, his eyes studying your face once he saw who he had collided into. They widened in shock. A happy shock. His stomach felt heavy with familiarity, lips twitching into a cheeky grin. Words didn’t fall out from his mouth, he just stood there like a love-struck puppy, drenched in bewilderment. 

When you don’t hear the man finish his sentence, your brows knit together in confusion, prompting you to look up and see his reasoning. And as you do, you stiffen momentarily before your mind registers what was going on. 

“Oh my god,” you breathed with a smile slowly building across your face, heart fluttering with every beat. 

It was your knight and shining armor. 

“It’s you!” you both marveled in unison, laughing that you said the same thing. It was unbelievable, the realization hitting both of you hard and fast.  

“What are you doing here? I mean,” you chuckled breathlessly, scrunching your face at your question, “How is it possible to see you here? It’s not like the city is that small.” 

“Trust me, I’m as surprised as you are,” Bucky grinned, his jaw dropping with amusement, but it immediately faints away, remembering his reason for being here tonight. 

“I, uh, have a date,” he half-heartedly smiled and ducked his head, shoving his hands in his pockets, the twinkle in his blue orbs losing its shine. 

“Oh,” you pouted but forced a smile to hide the disappointment, “Me too. I’m supposed to meet him now but… ,” you chuckled, trailing your words as your gaze traveled across various tables. 

Bucky remained quiet, scanning the room himself because the tension between you two increased. Becoming awkward and frustrating. 

“I got worried for a sec.” He admitted, breaking the silence. 

You turned your attention back on him, eyes raking over his facial features. “And why is that?” 

He cocked his head, “I thought it was the same guy from last night.” Bucky smirked, recalling the incident. 

“Oh god no! Why would I after his behavior,” you laughed, placing your hands on your chest. Lips urged to smile hard but you bit it from doing so, feeling your cheeks warm up in the presence of Bucky. You both stared at each other with soft eyes, silence casting its blanket over you two again but a good kind. 

The host cleared his throat, pursing his lips with a grin as his eyes darted between you and Bucky. Realizing what time it was, you snapped back to the depressing depths of reality. “Well, I don’t want to keep your date waiting.”

“Neither do I,” Bucky swallowed, turning his attention to the host.

“Please, would you both come with me and I’ll escort you to your table,” he informed, earning confused looks from you and Bucky. 

Assuming the host would guide both of you to your appropriate tables, you quietly follow the gentleman before sensing something was way off. Hesitantly, you peered over at Bucky who had the same look as you did, a mixture of fear and uncertainty. 

As the distance to the table grew closer and closer, it clicked in your brains. 

“James?”

“Y/N?”

PART 3

___________

Permanent tags will be added to reblogs. If you’d like to be added, pls send an ask.

[watermelon-pxpsicle]

ℙ𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖 ℙ𝕖𝕣𝕗𝕖𝕔𝕥| ℍ𝕒𝕨𝕜𝕤 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕆𝕟𝕖||𝔻𝕠𝕨𝕟𝕝𝕠𝕒𝕕

𝕏𝕏𝕏

{•N/N•}=nickname

{•M/L/N•}=mother's last name

𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 ℙ𝕆𝕍

I wait patiently in my chair checking my notes on this week's modeling session. In pure boredom I start to do that leg thing that people do when they need to get out extra energy. Before I look up though I can feel warm calloused hands covering my eyes. "Guess who?" I chuckle and say "Hm, well I suppose my only guess would a certain man with wings who is late to his modeling session" he laughs and says "aw come on, I'm not late you're just always early!" He takes his hands off my eyes and says "I'd never be late for a modeling gig with you" he gives one of his famous smug smirks and I roll my eyes.

I lead him back to the hair washing chair and continue to wash his hair. "So how’s hero work?” He sighs and says “Stressful, I guess but it’s nothing I can’t handle” he says it with a cocky smirk but I can’t help but feel sad for him. Hero work certainly does look stressful and it’s a shame that the hero commission can’t give the heroes just a little bit more free time. Although I guess it’s not like villains are just going to give them some days off to chill and just relax. His wings make it a bit difficult for him to lay down in the chair so he usually just sheds all his feather into a pile and just leaves them there, until he uses them again. It’s kind of weird to just have hawks feathers all over the place, but I’ve gotten used to it.

Once I'm done with washing Hawks's hair I blow dry and brush it. After I'm done with perfectly brushing it though he just has to run his hands through it. "H-hey! What are you doing that for!" I rush over and he chuckles. "Aw come on, I was itchy! It's not my fault that you buy high-class shampoo. Besides I like having you brush my hair" I sweat drop and go back to styling his hair until it's back to its fluffy, clean, and neat self.

Next is makeup. I don't have to add too much makeup to Hawks since he already has flawless skin, but fixing his bird eyeliner usually helps the aesthetic. It wasn't until the first time I tried wiping the little triangles under his eyes that I found out that that was part of him. We laughed it off anyways, but I still felt embarrassed inside and curios on how he just happened to be born with eyeliner on. When applying the eyeliner I have to be careful to not to touch Hawks too much, since he's ticklish and last time I did that his wings ruffled and spread and knocked over the chairs.

I can almost hear his breathing when I'm applying the makeup, maybe scared of getting ticklish again or just from staying still for a period of time. After I'm done he relaxes again and he follows me to his changing room. When he's in the changing room I check my phone to see any text notifications from the date I had last night. Although it seems as though I'm cursed to be forced alone, forever.

When Hawks comes out he notices my slightly saddened expression. "Hey chickadee, whats got you down?" I look up at him surprised and try to put a smile back on. "Oh nothing, just was spacing out that's all" He nods but I can tell he doesn't believe me. When we're around less people he asks again. "Seriously though, are you okay?" I sigh "I don't know, I guess right now my love life is slowly dying, although not like it was strong in the first place" Hawks looks a little taken a back by what I just said and a little sad too.

"I mean, all my friends have boyfriends. I'm just a twenty two year old who hasn't had one in what feels like forever" I exhale and look back up at him. "I'm sorry, I really shouldn't be talking to you like this. Super unprofessional of me let's do the photo shoot now" he was hesitant to move or talk back first but Hawks eventually followed me to the shoot. "So anyway I was thinking about matching the tones of your outfits to compliment the backdrops to really get a whole aesthetic going. And anyway I was also thinking about- Hawks?" I snap once trying to regain his attention. "Hawks?" Snapping gains got his attention and he turned to me.

"Hm? Oh! Sorry spaced out there for a bit" we continued the shoot without any further problems with him and his tendencies. We actually got it down fairly quick. "Anyway we'll reschedule for next time?" He nodded "yup just as usual" I go to exit and then I hear him mumble "look forward to seeing you again" I turn around making sure I heard him correctly. "Hm?" He looked a bit a flustered and just said "ah, I meant- I mean, um Bye!"

"Uh, yeah sure. Bye!" I exit the building a bit confused but eventually shrugged it off. "Just bird stuff right?" No matter the cause I go back to my cozy studio loft and sigh. "It's only Four O clock, but I still feel tired" maybe I should make something to eat. After I made something to eat I sat down on my couch and started sketching new ideas for different fashion and jewelry lines. I also brought a bag of popcorn with me. Eventually I put my hand in the bag and nothing was left in there except kernels. Looking around I realize the sun has already started to set. "Did I really just spend three hours non-stop drawing?" I shrug and decide to get to bed.

𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕡 𝕥𝕠 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕕𝕒𝕪'𝕤 𝕃𝕦𝕟𝕔𝕓

"Aw come on {•Y/N•}! You need to put yourself out there. Here it's a free app, just get it" I sigh listening to my friend, Alex's lecture about why I should get a dating app. "Listen here you've been single for way to long girl friend. It's time you go get yourself a man!" "Alex I'm honestly fine, it's sweet that you're doing this for me, but maybe I'm just not destined to meet someone" I take a sip of my drink and look down at my purse.

"Hey can I borrow your phone I want to know what the weather is tomorrow"

"don't you have your's?"

"Yeah but I left it in the car"

I reluctantly gave her my phone and before I knew it she was giggling. "What?" I look over and realize she already downloaded the app!

"A-Alex!" She puts her hand up just to drop and give me one of those "Oh please" looks and showed me my phone back. "Look hun you already got a match" I look down at my phone and notice that I did get a match. "Hold on, really?" I scroll though the person's name and it read 'Keigo Takahiro' he didn't have a picture but it seemed like none of these profiles did. "Hey why aren't their any photos here?"

"This app is made so people don't focus on looks and focus more on the person. "But then you could be talking to a creepy old man!" She just shrugs "you could be doing that too on any other app". Wait so you put my name as {•N/N•} {•M/L/N•}?" She nodded. "I mean you're kind of well known. Since your always around Hawks it's probably better if people don't read your profile and just say 'omg it's that one girl who always around hawks'"."I suppose" although I wasn't really listening I was scrolling through his profile. I didn't find anything that really stood out to me. "Hm his favourite food is chicken, he likes heights, he has a stable job. Maybe this isn't such a bad thing after all" alex smiles "see? I told you so, soon enough you'll be out here with kids" I roll my eyes and laugh "oh please no let's talk about marriage before that"

ℍ𝕒𝕨𝕜𝕤'𝕤 ℙ𝕆𝕍

𝔼𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕕𝕒𝕪

"I don't know Miruko, I just want a girlfriend" she looks at me weirdly and says "don't look at me I already got myself a girlfriend, and trust me I don't think I'm going to be needing no man anytime soon" We're lying in a parking lot because apparently I crash landed there and Miruko came because she thought there were carrots involved. I sigh "I didn't say you, Although you know {•L/N•}?" she jumps up and says "you mean your fashion designer?" I nod "I think I like her" after a few minutes of silence she says "dude, I know. You tell me this everyday" Then it looks like she gotan idea "hey! You should get a dating app!" I blink "what why?" "To get your mind off {•L/N•}! Since your obviously not going to make a move anytime soon" I think for a while "but what if I don't want to get the app?" She shrugs and says "then have fun complaining to me that you want a girlfriend everyday even though you found a girl but are too scared to make a move. You should just put your self out there. You'll be surprised" I look down "I don't know Miruko I think I'll pass" she then goes off to leave "suit yourself with loneliness!"

"Wait!" I shout back already regretting what I’m about to say. She turns back "yeah?" Defeatedly I pull my phone out of my pocket and hold it towards her. "Can you at least help me set up the account" she laughs and grabs my phone. "But wait, what if people only like me because I'm a pro hero and the publicity they would gain?" She looks up at me "just change your last name, and this app doesn't allow you to add a photo" I lean over "why?" She chomps into a carrot and says "something to do with love isn't about how you look or whatever, but I made your account, just fill out some of the other stuff"

"Hold on, am I going to be cat fishing people?"

"Course not! Just change your last name to your mom's last name!"

"Oh, okay"

Once we get my profile ready I hit done and wait a while. Then my phone buzzes "hey look you got a match!" I look on my phone to see '{•N/N•} {•M/L/N•}' I scroll through her profile and think to myself what's the worst that could happen right? “Hey, I gotta go, but have fun with your online dating!” I wave goodbye and check my phone again. It’s not my ideal way to finding a partner, but besides, this is only to get my mind off of {•L/N•}. It’s unprofessional of me to have feelings towards my employee, I mean I’m technically her boss and yet I have these, these.... feelings! That I can’t get rid of, and I just, I just want to.. I don’t know what I want to do with my feelings.

Miruko was right, I really do need to get my mind off her. She is just my fashion designer. That’s it, nothing else. Just my really attractive, kind, and nice employee. If there is some god out there,I hope they will at least send me a sign! Then my phone pinged.

||{•L/N•}||

Hey you free in two weeks? I was thinking maybe Wednesday at 9am

||Hawks||

Yeah why? Taking me out on a date lol

Could this be it? A sign from the gods? Maybe a push that {•L/N•} and I are meant to be?

||{•L/N•}||

To discuss your next fashion line silly :)

||Hawks||

Oh Okay

This girl is going to be the death of me, and hopefully {•M/L/N•} will be able to breathe me back to life.

𝕏𝕏𝕏

[artificialqueens]

Withstanding The Test Of Time Ch6 - Shalaska - pureCAMP

A/N - Yes it has been a long time and yes, I’m still writing all my fics! Hang in there, any old fans, I haven’t given up on you.

Last time: Sharon and Alaska had a fight on the way home from the party, and Sharon was given an opportunity to express her views.

This time: Wait and see…

When a society is on the precipice, moments away from falling off the edge, it is nearly impossible to tell. Any act of defiance - any protest, any argument, any kind of resistance against the social norms - any of them could be the proverbial straw on the camel’s back, the tipping point that throws everything into chaos. Sometimes it can be a call for change, a new leader, a shift in the ways of thinking. 

Sometimes, it can be something as innocuous as an article, written by a newly-promoted journalist, desperate to use her degree and have her voice heard all at once. Sometimes, it can be as little as one woman’s fury to send the media into a frenzy.

That’s right. I didn’t want to get married. In fact, I was pretty much dragged to the registry office kicking and screaming, for all I didn’t want to be there. My childhood plan, to run away with my best friend and live as a fugitive for as long as possible, never came into fruition. I kept tape over the accusing numbers on my arm, and when the name appeared and I had to face facts, I did so with my own mortality at the very back of my mind. When a car wasn’t enough to finish me off, I knew a marriage to someone I didn’t even know definitely would be.

Alaska had gone to work before Sharon left the house, as usual. She had a habit of eating a disgustingly healthy breakfast and then going for a run before changing at the office, so the two had very little interaction within their shared home. It was better that way, Sharon mused. To live like distant flatmates, rather than actual married women. 

It had been a very slow morning after the whirlwind of Alaska disappeared through the front door. Sharon dragged herself up for a sleepy shower, did her best to make her face presentable if nothing else, and had left for work after possibly the slowest bowl of cereal she’d ever eaten.

Even the lingering grey clouds above her were dull. The world seemed to move in slow-motion, everything listless and unimportant. Despite the dreary weather, it was a little too warm for the long sleeves Sharon had opted for, but she shrugged her shoulders and tried to pretend that she wasn’t overheating on the way to the office. It was always freezing in there anyway, and she much preferred to sit and be too warm than to advertise the name of her wife to the world around her.

Just as she got to the lift, praying for a somewhat quiet morning, a familiar face appeared. Sharon reminded herself at the very least that it wasn’t one of the bitches, so she couldn’t be rude.

“Morning, superstar!” Sasha greeted, her mane of hair fluffed and curled messily around her shoulders. Her eyes were glittering with excitement, and she seemed to bounce as though she couldn’t keep all her energy in. 

“Uh, morning, Sash.” Sharon replied, still half-asleep. She was sure that at some point that morning, in an attempt to keep from falling back asleep, she had blinked too hard and smudged mascara everywhere. Hoping that wasn’t the case, she rubbed gingerly beneath her eyes and tried to muster a little more enthusiasm to match her friend’s, at the very least.

Sasha didn’t seem perturbed. “How are you feeling this morning, huh?”

“Tired?” Sharon suggested, growing confused. “I don’t get what the purpose of this interrogation is.”

All of a sudden, Sasha’s eyes grew wide and, if possible, even brighter. She seemed to be completely unsure of what to do with herself. Shrugging, Sharon walked a nearly-speechless Sasha to their desks. Her friend didn’t regain the ability to speak until she had thrown herself into her chair with a loud sigh.

“Have you… you haven’t been online this morning, have you?” Sasha’s tone was leading into something, but Sharon had no idea what it was. She shook her head. “Okay, um… Go on Twitter, I guess that’s probably the best place to go. I’m surprised your phone hasn’t blown up yet.”

Still baffled but choosing to trust Sasha’s judgement, Sharon pulled out her phone and tapped impatiently, waiting for it to respond to her touch. Before she could even reach for the Twitter app, however, she had accidentally tapped on one of the rapidfire notifications that were appearing at a seizure-inducing rate at the top of her screen. As it materialised and grew large on her screen, she did a double-take.

‘Stupid fucking liberal cunt, doesn’t know what the fuck she’s saying DO YOU @sharon_needles!! People like you who claim that soulmate love isn’t real should be EXECUTED! DISGUSTING!’

She blanched, not at all hurt by the bizarre statement but completely dumbfounded at its existence. As far as she was aware, Sharon didn’t know a @BillDewinski1956, let alone tweet anything that would catch his attention. At her expression, Sasha grabbed her phone and then gasped.

“Jesus! Some people are so charming, aren’t they… But I mean this! This is what you need to see.”

She handed the phone back on the list of trending news. The list was as she expected; something about the President’s latest fuck up, some viral tweet about girly movies, a singer making an apology for something dumb. But the banner at the very top was what caught her eye - a photograph of herself.

Media  .  16 hours ago

Controversial ‘timers’ article divides the internet with an unheard perspective on the law

97k people are tweeting about this

As soon as the words registered in her mind, Sharon’s stomach twisted into knots. She wasn’t sure if it was a pleasant sensation or not; all she knew was that her heart was hammering in her chest, her mind was racing, and she didn’t have a single idea what she was supposed to think.

Did this mean she was successful? Did this mean she was going to get fired? As disgusting as some of the replies to the article were, people were definitely interested. At least half of the responses seemed somewhat supportive of her - Sharon scrolled through replies of people who said they had cried when realising they weren’t the only ones, or explained how they’d managed to get past it, or simply commented that she had opened their minds to something they hadn’t considered before.

For the first time in her life, Sharon’s anger was powerful. For the first time, she had the power to influence how people thought and how people felt, and it was a very strange power to possess.

“Well?” Sasha prompted, pulling Sharon out of her introspective silence.

“Well…” Sharon answered, not nearly as eloquent in person as she was in writing. “Shit. That’s all I have to say.”

Sasha was practically beaming, and despite all the confusion and conflicting emotions Sharon felt about the whole situation, her friend’s glowing pride made her feel incredibly uplifted. It was rare that Sharon ever felt so supported and cared for.

“I always knew you would take the world by storm once they let you.” She praised, Sharon waving her off so that she didn’t end up blushing unattractively. “The website is down this morning so there’s not much we can do until maintenance fix it. Too much traffic from everyone trying all at once to read your article. You really swept everyone off their feet.”

Sharon shook her head, unable to accept the compliments. Sure, she’d caused a stir, but controversy always did. It wasn’t like they were praising how it was written, or the language and composition of the piece… no, had it been the usual lovey-dovey drip of an article about timers, no one would bat an eyelid. It was controversy, not skill, that had brought her notoriety.

“Trinity isn’t in this morning, but Peppermint wants to see you.” Sasha finished gently, noticing the slight embarrassment she’d caused. “No doubt to assign you another task to blow out of the water.”

For the first time since entering her job as an underpaid intern, nobody yelled, clicked at, or insulted Sharon as she walked through the office. No one demanded a coffee, or sent a scathing look in her direction. In fact, not a single head turned in her direction at all - possibly the closest thing she could get to a success.

Peppermint, or Agnes, as Sharon supposed she should call her, was the more forgiving of her two bosses, and as she made her way towards her office she prayed that nothing bad was going to happen. After all, she knew they couldn’t fire her for how the article was written, as she had taken the time to ensure it all made sense, but that didn’t mean her audacity couldn’t be the reason she got fired. As much as was her own thoughts, the content was a little outrageous given how few companies were willing to give platforms to voices like hers.

Thankfully, she was greeted with a smile. “Ah! Morning, Sharon. Just thought we could have a chat about that little article of yours.”

Oh god. Here it came. The pointed smile, the cold eyes, the flat tone of voice as she was told that they had taken a gamble on promoting her and it was clearly the wrong decision to make, and that she would need to be fired completely to avoid the humiliation of a demotion and for the good of the company overall, and she would have to rescind her article along with a grovelling apology for daring to be so forthright with her opinions in a society that didn’t want to hear them-

Agnes leaned forwards. “I loved it.”

Sharon was so taken aback, she nearly fell right off her chair. “I- What?”

“Look, Sharon…” She admitted, her voice low. “I’m a trans woman, I know all about causing a stir. There’s bigoted people out there who say I don’t deserve everything I have, simply because I transitioned. So even if we disagree, I want you to do more of this. Share your voice. Angry women change the world, and I can see you have some fire in you.”

Never in her life had Sharon expected to be praised for her boldness. It was something that people in her life had always endeavoured to change about her; the conviction with which she held her beliefs was dangerous. But someone, for the first time in what felt like forever, was encouraging her. Someone, even if it was Agnes alone, believed that what Sharon had to say was valuable, and wasn’t trying to silence her voice.

It was a strange feeling.

She wandered back to her desk in a daze, baffled enough by the meeting and sudden influx of attention that she felt slightly light-headed. Ignoring the swathe of notifications still flooding her phone from all apps, she opened her Twitter once more and decidedly, absently, to briefly address it and then move on. After all, she had more controversy to cause.

Sharon Needles - @sharon_needles

Angry women change the world ..

“She wants more.”

Sasha blinked. “Huh?”

Sharon shook her head, trying to mentally pull herself together and wrench her mind away from the absolute chaos she had somehow managed to cause. She switched her phone off, overwhelmed by the constant notifications, and wheeled her chair around to properly look at Sasha with a little more clarity.

“Peppermint… Agnes… whatever… She wants more from me. She wants me to keep doing what I’m doing, and not issue an apology, and I’m not fired, I don’t have to clear my things…” Sharon muttered, mostly to herself. “She- She wants to keep me here?”

Practically squealing, Sasha kicked the desk and propelled herself backwards in her chair, spinning gleefully. Her enthusiasm was strangely contagious, and within a couple of seconds, Sharon felt the same unbridled happiness bubbling up inside her. It was utterly euphoric.

“I didn’t get fired!”

“You didn’t get fucking fired!” Sasha repeated, her eyes squeezed shut in excitement. She had shuffled her way over to Sharon, and begun spinning her chair so that the both of them were racing round in circles, giddy and giggling.

Sharon laughed at the absurdity of it all - spinning around in her desk chair at work, rapidly promoted, a sudden success in a short amount of time. It was as if her luck was finally beginning to balance out, the bad making way for the good to start shining through.

“Okay, I… I need to start my next one. Or plan it. Or do something, I don’t know.” She babbled, skidding to a halt back at her desk and fumbling with the keyboard. “There’s so much I could touch on… God. I finally get to use my degree, huh?”

Sasha winked at her, the pride emanating from her bright eyes. “Get writing, bitch. Go and knock ‘em dead now that they’re all listening. I know you can do it.”

Now that was something she’d never tire of hearing, something new to her ears and like music every single time. People - a select few, but a rapidly increasing amount - believed in her.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of writing, planning and numbing excitement. It was no secret that Sharon had a lot to say, and she had been trying for years to get people to listen to her. All the protests, the arrests, the candid photographs of a young teenager with a sign in her hands, desperate for some kind of change to protect her from the uncertain future that gave her nightmares… they had to be worth something. Sharon had a voice now, and she couldn’t throw it away.

Time seemed to escape her, each second sliced away by the rapid clicking of keys beneath her fingers. There was so much to be said, so much to do, and before long, Sasha’s hand was gently shaking Sharon’s shoulder, wrenching her from her writing-induced stupor. It was beginning to darken outside, and the majority of the office were leaving or had already left.

“Fuck,” Sharon hissed, stretching and wincing slightly at the cracking of her bones. “I’m gonna go blind if I look at that screen for any longer. Thanks, Sash.”

Sasha smiled kindly. “Anytime. You’re doing great, just make sure you don’t burn yourself out. Try to relax tonight, yeah? Just take it easy, chill a little. I’d invite you over for drinks to celebrate, but I can imagine you’re exhausted.”

Her mood lifted from such a productive, surprising day, Sharon found herself in higher spirits than she expected. “Aww, maybe I’ll come see you and Shea tomorrow. You’re right, though, I think I need a night in to just relax and be by myself. And maybe mute my Twitter, seeing how crazy it was earlier.”

Her friend laughed appreciatively. “I’ll get some red wine in for the weekend, you’re welcome to come over anytime. Now get out of here, freak. Go home.”

Absent-mindedly, Sharon wondered if her slightly later-than-usual exit from work meant that she could claim for a little bit of overtime, or if it would affect which bus she got home on. The elevator music provided the perfect mindless background music for her thoughts, her brain having checked out of work-mode the moment she logged off her computer. As it dinged, the little noise always sounding before Sharon expected it to and making her jump, she walked out into the car park and started towards the bus station. Then she stopped.

Alaska’s car was parked next to Sasha’s, which was quickly pulling away. She was sitting behind the wheel, her arms folded across her chest, her eyes staring straight forward. When she spotted Sharon, her gaze only lingered for half a second before she turned away again, her expression completely, eerily blank. Somewhat apprehensive, Sharon approached.

The car window rolled down. “Alaska?”

“Thought you might want picking up. The buses around here aren’t very safe.”

Sharon lingered awkwardly. On the one hand, she didn’t really feel like spending time with Alaska, given the tension between them that seemed as though it would never go away. A fucking soulmate marriage counsellor, after all, and a fierce anti-timer law advocate, were hardly a match made in Heaven. On the other hand, Sharon had witnessed her fair share of bloody fights and drunk, leery men on her bus rides home.

Reluctantly, she opened the door and got into the passenger seat, glancing furtively at Alaska before lowering her gaze. This was weird - everything about all of their interactions was weird. At least this time, she supposed, Alaska wasn’t begging Sharon to like her. She just started the car without a word.

They drove in silence for a few excruciating minutes. Sharon didn’t usually mind awkward silences - she was usually the cause of them, after all, and would relish in the suffocating misery and discomfort that followed. But this silence wasn’t her own doing, and all of it sudden it wasn’t so nice to get a taste of her own medicine. She flexed her hands, unsure of what to do with herself, as Alaska sat rigid and drove seemingly without blinking. In a last-ditch attempt to break the tension, Sharon reached out toward the radio.

“It doesn’t work.” Alaska told her. “Don’t bother.”

“Oh.” Sharon stopped in her tracks, slowly retracting her hand. “Okay. Sorry.”

Alaska shrugged, barely. “It’s fine.”

They lapsed into silence again. This wasn’t right; Sharon was the one to sit and make others feel weird and strange, not Alaska. Her wife was supposed to be the one who wanted approval, not Sharon. The loss of power was unsettling.

When they came across a queue at a traffic light, Alaska huffed out a breath, as though she was irritated about something. “Want to get something to eat before we go home?” She asked, rather curtly. 

Her tone of voice knocked Sharon for six. It took a few moments for her to register the words, let alone come up with a response. “Uhh, no. Let’s just go.”

It seemed Alaska wasn’t having it. “Well, I think we should celebrate. There’s a good Thai place down this street, it has lots of vegan options too.”

Out of everything, the weirdest part was Alaska’s cold exterior. Sharon had to admit, begrudgingly, that as much as she didn’t like Alaska, she was always inviting and kind and willing to give a second (or third, or fourth, or fifth, or sixth) chance. She always offered little acts of kindness that Sharon turned down, her good intentions clear all the time. But this… whilst her words seemed kind, the chilling voice with which she spoke them were anything but.

“I don’t want anything, I just want to go home.” Sharon shot back.

“Or there’s a good pizza place, too.” Alaska ignored her. “Pretty cheap, but the garlic bread is super good. Special occasions call for special dinners, I think. We should celebrate your success at the very least. It’s only a ten minute drive extra from home.”

Sharon scowled, growing more annoyed by the second. “Why the fuck are you being nice? Shut up, fucking hell.”

Alaska snorted derisively. “The question is, why aren’t you being nice? You don’t have to be a cunt all the time, you know that, right?”

“I didn’t ask for you to fucking pick me up and start trying to buy dinner when all I want to do is get home and be on my own!” Sharon exploded. “Like fuck, girl, take a fucking hint! I can make my own goddamn way home!”

Alaska slammed on her brakes as the traffic came to yet another stop, jolting them both forward. “Why don’t you then, huh? Get out of my fucking car and walk home if you hate it so much. Go on, hurry up.”

Sharon recoiled, as though she’d been slapped. “What the fuck?”

“You heard me!” Alaska seethed. “Get out now while it’s not moving, or else I’ll fucking push you out whilst I’m driving. I’m sick of you, I’m fucking sick of you, and I don’t want to deal with your ass anymore. Get out of my car.”

The light turned amber.

“Gladly.” Sharon opened the door and slammed it shut, just in time. Alaska sped off as the light turned green, leaving Sharon in her dust.

It took a minute for everything to connect in Sharon’s head. What the fuck had just happened? Alaska had snapped. Everything that Sharon had done to torment her and make her life difficult had worked, and it had culminated in a burst of anger, which was exactly what she wanted - tangible proof that the soulmate business was a load of shit, and they just weren’t meant to be.

And yet… why did it feel so awful? Sharon walked faster than she thought she ever had before, her furious strides rivalling that of a yoga mom in a park. A mixture of rage and… was that guilt? wrestled in the pit of her stomach, festering and bubbling in a way that made her nauseous. This was exactly what she wanted, after all, for Alaska to stop fucking trying and accept that, no matter what, Sharon was never going to love her.

It seemed that her anger and hurt weren’t quite linked, and she couldn’t work out where they were coming from.

It was surprisingly cathartic to walk home in the brisk cold, the weather cooling off her angry heat as she walked the rest of the journey home. She had almost gotten over it completely when Alaska’s home came into view - and everything seemed to reignite at just the sight of it. No doubt Alaska had slammed the front door and stormed inside, judging by her haphazard parking job.

She pounded on the front door and waited. Of course, today had to be the day she forgot her key.

It swung open almost violently, revealing a pissed-off Alaska. “Oh, it’s you. I was hoping it was going to be a door-to-door serial killer. I should be so fucking lucky.”

Sharon shook her head in disbelief. “Okay, what the fuck is your problem? 

“My problem?” Alaska asked indignantly. “No, this isn’t my problem, Sharon, this is yours.” She all but yanked Sharon inside, shutting the door with an almighty bang and beginning to pace up and down the corridor. “You’re the one with the issues, and I’m tired of being nice to you only to get treated like shit in response. Willam told me to be patient with you, and fuck, I’ve tried, but you’re giving me nothing and I’ve had enough. So what, please tell me, did I fucking to do you?!”

Fuming again, Sharon shrugged off her coat and stormed into the kitchen, Alaska hot on her heels. She could practically see the steam coming out of her reddened ears.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Alaska? I don’t have time for your stupid games.”

Alaska almost growled. “You! I’m talking about you, Sharon, and how you seem to have no fucking regard for other people. I don’t care if you don’t like the laws about timers because fuck, tons of people don’t, and they’re fucking excessive and I understand that. Hate the system all you fucking want, but don’t take your anger out on me when I did nothing to you. I’ve done everything I can to make you comfortable here and then you- you-”

Sharon stood still and seethed, listening to Alaska’s rant with her jaw clenched. “Communication is key for a healthy marriage, you of all people should know that. Get to the fucking point.”

“I’M GETTING THERE!” Alaska screamed, and the force of her shout shocked Sharon into silence. Her face was distraught, pulled tight with fury and rage that seemed entirely uncharacteristic for someone like her. She was rational, collected, measured - someone who was pragmatic and logical. She didn’t just explode in emotional outbursts, or at least, Sharon had never thought she would.

“All I want to know,” She breathed, her tone dangerously calm, “Is what I did to make you hate me, and what I can do to make you like me. Because this- this-”

She held up her phone, the screen flashing in Sharon’s face - a screenshot of her newly-viral article. 

“I don’t know what the fuck I did to deserve this, okay?!”

Sharon rolled her eyes. “Oh please. I had the freedom to write about what I wanted, and so I wrote about what no one gets to hear, because sycophantic bitches like you who love the taste of government boots sit here all day and tell us how wonderful it is that we’re forced into marriages! Well, fucking newsflash, I don’t think that!”

“And you’ve made it quite fucking clear, from the day I met you!” Alaska cut in. “But for one fucking second, did you think about how this would affect me? How this would humiliate me?”

Tears were beginning to gather in the corners of Alaska’s eyes - hot, angry tears, threatening to spill over her scarlet cheeks and flared nostrils. In the midst of their blazing argument, seemingly a battle of attrition with hurled insults as their ammunition, Sharon started to feel… bad.

“What do you mean? It’s not like I fucking named you. You don’t need to be so sensitive.” She cursed.

Alaska shook her head, and Sharon sensed that if she pushed her any further, she would explode like a grenade. “I have been ridiculed all day - by my co-workers, even by my fucking clients. I walked into work with your name visible on my arm, so everyone knows that the Sharon Needles who wrote the scathing article is the same one that I’m married to.”

As she ranted, tears spilling over, Alaska kicked off her heels, ignoring how they flew across the room and likely damaged something of hers. The resulting clatter seemed to only exacerbate her fury.

“I’m a marriage counsellor, Sharon.” She stressed, leaning over the worktop. “My entire livelihood is helping people come to terms with their relationships and live out long, happy lives together in whatever way suits them best. All fucking day, I’ve had people laughing and sneering in my face, my own fucking clients telling me that if I can’t fix my own marriage, how the hell am I supposed to fix theirs?”

She swiped away her tears in a vicious motion. “Humiliated and ridiculed, all fucking day, because you made your goddamn think-piece into more of an attack on me than you did an attack on the system that you’re actually mad at. I just- I can’t take this anymore, Sharon.”

With mounting guilt, Sharon mustered as much disdain into her voice as she could. “Can’t take what? Enlighten me.”

“You!” Alaska’s eyes were shining, her chest heaving with the effort of yelling and crying all at once. “You’re spiteful, you’re mean, you’re bitter and nasty and cruel and I have noidea why that is, but I wish I fucking knew so I could something, anything! I’m not asking you to love me, Sharon, because I don’t think you have it in you to love. I’m just - fuck, I’m asking you to try and not be a cunt all the time because maybe if we could be respectful to each other, something could grow out of that. We could be friends. But you’re just fucking horrible.”

A thousand insults sprang to the forefront of Sharon’s mind, her brain working overtime to provide her with harsh, cutting remarks that could stop Alaska in her tracks and effectively win the argument. Each and every one of them halted at her tongue, disappeared, and Sharon deflated.

“I know.”

Alaska faltered. “You- what?”

“I’m a horrible, terrible person, Alaska. I don’t think about anyone else because the only person I can rely on is me, I don’t fucking want anybody else. A soulmate goes against absolutely everything that I stand for as a person.” Sharon found herself suddenly bearing her soul in front of her furious wife, more vulnerable than she had felt in a long time. “I should’ve thought about what this would all mean for you. But I don’t think about others, ever. I get hurt when I think about others.”

Little tear droplets clung to Alaska’s eyelashes, clumping them together as she regarded Sharon with a gaze far gentler than her previously stony glare. All at once, her anger seemed to dissipate.

“I’m never gonna hurt you, Sharon. At the end of all of this fucked up shit, I’ve got your back. I’m your soulmate.”

Sharon shook her head, faster than she meant to. “There’s no such thing.”

Alaska softened. “I read that true hatred can only come from something you once loved. I don’t know if that’s true, but-”

“I don’t want to get into it.” Sharon answered, quietly. “Can I just apologise and try and be better?”

Biting her lip, Alaska nodded infinitesimally and sighed. “Yeah… But if something’s hurting you, and I can help-”

“I can’t talk about it.” Sharon replied curtly, then apologised. “Sorry. I just… I can’t.”

“That’s okay.” Alaska promised, her teary eyes suddenly holding tender sadness in the place of her former rage. “Do you… Can I give you a hug? Just to… consolidate a truce, I guess, and give you a little bit of comfort.”

The words got stuck in Sharon’s throat, but it didn’t end up mattering. At the slightest inclination of her head, Alaska rushed forwards and wrapped her arms around Sharon, the both of them melting against one another in a moment of sheer exhaustion and weakness. There were tears beginning to well up in Sharon’s eyes, too, but she did her best to blink them away, determined not to cry in Alaska’s embrace.

It was nice… nicer than she’d expected. Alaska was warm, and welcoming, and at heart she was a good, loving person. Sharon was selfish and rude and petulant and she didn’t deserve the love, let alone the friendship, of someone like Alaska. But something about the tightness with which Alaska held onto Sharon told her that, somehow, this was someone who would give her infinite chances. Alaska had never waited for Sharon to fuck up, not like everyone else. She had gotten angry, and then her angry had been pushed aside completely in favour of a sweet embrace.

It felt so good to be held by someone. Sharon lifted her own arms to squeeze Alaska and buried her face, hoping that her wife couldn’t tell that she had started sobbing.

[supertrainstationh]

Free app PAYS people for sheltering in place during Covid-19 pandemic!

If you’re trapped at home sheltering in place during the Covid-19 pandemic, there’s a FREE APP that now actually PAYS out users in cryptocurrency just for staying home.

Super Train Station H here.

I usually don’t do stuff like this, but its a strange time, with strange ways, so I thought I might recommend a unique app I’ve been personally using for a number of months now, as it might in some way help out slightly or provide some amusement during these uncertain times.

The app is called COIN.

It was created to pay users with cryptocurrency for verifying GPS data, which users do simply by running the app, which consists of a basic GPS map screen resembling Pokemon GO’s main screen.

The app was originally designed to reward people for traveling as much as possible while running the app - while walking, jogging, driving, taking the train, and so on. You could get a basic sense of what it was like in this video.

In the past you COULD earn a much smaller amount for running the app while the phone is sitting in a stationary location like a night stand, or a locker, but the goal was to encourage users to travel as much as possible to verify as much GPS map data as possible to get the max rewards.

Due to the global pandemic and many governments ordering that citizens stay home, COIN now pays users with cryptocurrency for STAYING HOME with a feature called “Home Base”.

All you need to do is have the app running, hit the big “Auto-Collect” button at the bottom of the app’s map screen, and just leave the phone alone. The “home base” sets up automatically within several minutes and you’ll get a notification that looks like THIS when it does.

Each hour, the rewards collected multiply, until you’re earning 100% of the coins that a user would have otherwise

There are also simple, fidgety minigames that can be played to earn coins more rapidly. I like doing these while watching YouTube videos on my PC, but all that’s necessary to earn is to leave the app running on-screen and to not travel with the phone.

The rewards multiplier is a game changing feature in terms the amount of coins that can be earned and I can only imagine the amount of crypto I’d have earned by now if this new shelter in place rewards feature existed back when I got started with this in January.

Since the TRUE intention of the app is to encourage people to travel as much as possible while using it, its likely that these large payout bonuses for remaining at home will only last as long as the pandemic itself, so while we all hope things return to normal soon, it means this Home Base payout multiplier bonus is likely going to be a limited-time feature.

Another cool thing is that there are ADDITIONAL bonuses given if multiple people have the app running on their phone in the same short-range area, so if you’re in a house or apartment and have two or three people running COIN at the same time, you ALL earn more for doing so.

I’ve been using COIN since early January 2020, and have successfully cashed out of the app several times and have successfully transferred the currency to my digital wallets, so I can affirm that the payouts are genuine and that the currency can be spent and exchanged easily.

One of the only things I’ve found digital currency easily useful for is getting online gift cards for food delivery services, so maybe this might help soften the blow for a nice delivery lunch or dinner for someone out there.

I don’t know, I just thought it was worth sharing, so one last time, HERE’S A LINK TO CHECK IT OUT.

I’m not sponsored by the makers of the app or anything, I just wanted to share this and hope this possibly helps someone out there.

Stay safe, be kind to earthworms.

- H