#my classmates called my logo shitty and that it looked like it was made in mspaint and like. yeah it kinda does
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rogdona · 1 year ago
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im not like. upset, but im def a lil bit annoyed
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luvdsc · 4 years ago
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mark lee sucks at technology.
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tap the heart if you have a big, fat, embarrassing crush on your best friend!
pairing :: lee mark x reader genre :: fluff / best friend + social influencer au word count :: 5,883 words warnings :: none playlist :: dumb stuff (lany) ⋆ feeling (coin) ⋆ so far so good (gabrielle aplin) ⋆ electric love (børns) ⋆ love by mistake (bad suns) author’s note :: i was debating if i should post it on his bday instead, but i decided to drop it earlier, so uh, happy (approx. one week early) bday to mister absolutely fully capable (except when it comes to tech stuff) !!!! thank you for blessing us with your god tier raps ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.
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In your required upper division business course aptly titled “Essential Marketing Strategies,” you had learned about a concept called personal brands. A personal brand is explained as the first impression a person wishes to perceive based on their own experiences, qualifications, and achievements. Your professor had told you and your classmates to pick three words to define your own brand. For instance, you chose to label yourself as charismatic, fun, and creative.
Your best friend’s brand would be awkward, endearing, and technologically challenged. 
Okay, so that is definitely more than three words, but who’s counting? You might as well tack on “Y/N’s big fat crush” at this rate because everyone and their mother knows that you carry a torch—or more accurately, a blazing wildfire that can easily be spotted from Pluto—for your best friend.
Well, to be more precise, you should probably say everyone, except Mark, knows. And that’s not for lack of trying either. You completely dropped the art of delicate subtlety months ago already. Maybe you should add “hopelessly oblivious” instead.
The rolling end credits to the sixth Harry Potter film are playing on the screen in front of you, signaling the nearing end of your magical movie marathon. You’re seated on the worn down couch in Mark and Donghyuck’s shared apartment, watching the former make his drink with the fancy, gently used Keurig newly settled on the scratched countertop. Johnny dropped it off a few days ago because he had splurged on a better coffee machine (“It even makes Instagram worthy whipped frappuccinos!”) and didn’t want his old, but still perfectly functioning caffeine provider going to waste.
“What’s wrong with this thing?” Mark slaps the side of the machine, and it starts to emit a low whirring noise. “Oh, that’s good, right? That sound is good, you think?”
His question is immediately answered by the sad squirt of hot water speckled with coffee grinds falling into his mug for a few seconds before the machine shuts off.
“What the hell?” he mutters angrily, carding his hand through his hair in frustration, and you finally decide to take pity on your best friend. Getting up from the comfy spot you know you sadly won’t be able to recreate perfectly again later, you stride over to where your best friend stands and flip open the top of the Keurig.
“Hyuck didn’t take out his used coffee pod,” you say, pulling out the incriminating evidence of your best friend’s roommate and disposing it in the trash can next to the refrigerator. “Where’s the espresso one you’re gonna use? Why didn’t you put that in?”
His jaw slackens, and he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze and mumbling, “I thought I’d just open it later and pour it into my hot water.”
“Mark,” you start, placing your hands on his shoulders firmly and staring into his eyes with a serious look on your face. “Please know that I’m saying this in the most loving way possible, but you are an absolute idiot.”
You release your grip on his shoulders and grab the espresso pod dangling from his fingertips before slotting it into the Keurig. You remove the mug he placed underneath the spout and wash out the accidental coffee water before placing it back in its original position and pressing the start button on the machine. With a sigh, you lean against the side of the counter, glancing at your friend who looks like a child being scolded for stealing from the cookie jar.
“If you pour the pod into your mug, are you just going to chug all the loose coffee grinds, too?”
“... I didn’t think that far ahead.” His lips start to unintentionally form a tiny pout, and your eyes (and your heart, too) soften.
You’re very relieved that Donghyuck is off filming with your friend because he definitely would be making fun of your heart eyes that frequently make an appearance around a certain Mark Lee. Which you always deny. Because you certainly do not have a gigantic crush on your technologically inept best friend.
You glance over at him again and have to physically fight yourself to resist the urge to kiss his cute pout away. Okay, so maybe you harbor a very respectable, medium sized crush. But it's no big deal. It’s completely under control. Unless you’re counting the fact that your best friend is still unaware, and you’re running out of ideas to try and see if he likes you back before you actually shoot your shot. Then it’s very much not under control because you’re losing sleep over it and you don’t know what to do to be any more obvious without stating the, well, obvious.
“Well, now you know. If you forget, you can FaceTime me and I’ll give you instructions on how it works.” You pat his shoulder reassuringly before pausing. “Wait, you do know how to FaceTime, right?”
“Yes!” he exclaims, sulking even more before confessing in a quieter, defeated tone, “Hyuck showed me last month.”
Mark grabs his finished drink and follows behind you, settling back onto the couch next to you. The streaming service already has Deathly Hallows Part 1 in the queue and ready to go, and your best friend is ready to click play until he notices your attention being focused on the smaller screen in your hands. He wonders if you’re about to post another one of your popular cooking videos on that app that shares a name with the most iconic song of the 2000s (hint: the name of the song’s singer is made up of four letters and a dollar sign).
“Are you uploading one of your videos?” he implores before taking a sip of his drink with a satisfied smile. Somehow, it always tastes better when you make it, and he can’t figure out why for the life of him. When he went to Johnny’s place, his older friend uses the exact same pod and water ratio for his espresso, and yet, it’s never as good as yours.
“Nah, I’m ordering my grocery delivery before I forget. Do you want anything?” You select the option to load your usual grocery items into your cart before debating on whether or not you should splurge on buying several packages of those seasonal Pillsbury sugar cookies that only come in stock during certain holidays. It seems like such an insult to the entire premise of your Tiktok account based on baking and cooking, but you’re an absolute sucker for those soft pastries.
“Yeah, can you get me a Shin Ramyun ten pack? Hyuck ate the last one two days ago and didn’t tell me.”
“You sure you don’t want ten boxes again?” You decide to get those Pillsbury sugary delights, happily adding three boxes to your cart. Everybody has a weakness, and yours just so happens to be a premade one way ticket to diabetes. You’re here for a good, delicious time, not a long time.
“No! That was an accident!” He objects, flailing his hands around, before falling back against the couch cushions in defeat. “But Hyuck does all the online grocery shopping now.”
“Thank god. You guys finally have quality toilet paper again.”
The past month of bathroom occurrences was plagued with scratchy tissue that felt more like goddamn sandpaper from the horrible depths of hell. To be honest, you probably would have rather used actual sandpaper, given the choice. You even made sure not to drink too much water any time you came over, but today, you decided to splurge on a venti passion fruit iced tea with sweetener from that very popular franchise sporting a mermaid logo and fiscally cosmic name. To your pleasant surprise, your trip to the toilet this time was wonderfully padded with Charmin Ultra Soft, not that absolutely awful off brand one with the gross texture of a dried pinecone from inferno.
“Hey, that toilet paper was a good steal! It was a three for one deal,” Mark protests, and you narrow your eyes at him.
“Wow, I wonder why it was priced so low.” You deadpan, and Mark blanches, recalling all those restroom incidents that were rather rough. Literally.
“Anyway, do you think my viewers wanna see me make chocolate crinkle cookies or mochi doughnuts?” You bring up the two recipes you managed to perfect and add your own spin to on your phone, eyes scanning the ingredient lists.
“Both. And tell me when you’re making them, so I can come over and eat them.” He gives you a wide grin, and you let out a snort at that. His smile only grows as he says happily, “I love your job.”
“You only love it because you can freeload off of me,” you jest, but nevertheless begin to start to add all the ingredients for both recipes to your shopping cart. You always film cooking videos on Tuesdays, edit on Wednesdays, keep Thursdays free for last minute touch ups and emergencies, and post one every week on Fridays with other various random videos uploaded whenever in between. With that in mind, you schedule your upcoming grocery delivery for Monday.
“Hey, you need me. I’m the best taste tester.” He puffs up his chest proudly before hastily tacking on a more genuine reason. “And because I’d starve without you. I can’t live off of instant ramen and frozen chicken nuggets forever. Gordon Ramsay already confirmed my shitty cooking skills. I need you to survive.”
“Oh my god, when I uploaded those pics of your scrambled eggs on Twitter, I lost like a hundred followers in less than a minute.” You confirm the delivery and place your phone on the coffee table, picking up the opened bag of Cheeto puffs before settling back in your seat. “My cooking credibility was completely shot. I had to explain to my fans that I didn’t make those.”
“Yeah, but now everyone calls me Eggy Boi online!” he whines, and you laugh. You have to admit, it’s quite a funny play on the whole “edgy boi” terminology. You wonder if Mark will find it amusing if he discovers his roommate is the culprit behind his new online persona (He probably won’t, and you reckon Donghyuck enjoys living in a safe space where he doesn’t have to sleep with one eye open, so you stay quiet about it. You’ll use it as leverage some other time).
“Okay, Eggy Boi, come by on Tuesday because I’ll be baking in the afternoon,” you say casually, grabbing the remote control from your best friend and pressing play. 
You very narrowly avoid a green gummy bear to the face. It lands somewhere behind the couch, lost forever to the dust bunnies and other snacks that missed its target. You know for a fact that it’ll stay there until the boys decide to move to a new apartment. Mark grumbles at the miss, biting off the head of a red cherry flavored gummy bear perhaps a little harder than necessary.
“I hate you. But I’m still coming over next week because I want a doughnut.”
“No cookie?”
“... and a cookie. Maybe two.”
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Wednesday comes faster than you expected, and you’re currently holed up in your apartment’s second bedroom—which you had transformed into a snazzy office space—completing the edits to your second video on mochi doughnuts. You already finished polishing the one about the cookies earlier, thank goodness. If you had to stare at your computer screen for another three hours, you would rather eat those pastries Mark tried to make two months ago, but had mistaken salt for sugar. Adding a cup of salt to any baked good is an extremely effective way to make anyone who tasted your best friend’s brownies experience a trip to the beach. Because they essentially just swallowed a mouthful of sand and ocean water. Because it’s salty as heck. Just like Mark was when you told him.
Speaking of your best friend, he’s currently puttering around in your kitchen doing god knows what. He knows better than to try another recipe and possibly blow up your number one moneymaker—your prized oven—in the process. Your heart nearly drops when your ears pick up the faint chopping sounds of a knife against your wooden cutting board. Is he going to try to temper chocolate again? He nearly burned through your entire stock of dark, milk, and white chocolate last time.
After much contemplation and deciding that you deserve a good procrastination break and a fully intact kitchen, you’re about to go out and see what he’s up to when Mark timidly appears in your doorway, clutching onto a white bowl of watermelon cubes with a fork tucked neatly in it. He shuffles in, dropping the snack on your desk before turning to walk out without a word, not wanting to disturb your work mode. 
Your heart warms up at the sight, and you speak up, a small smile slipping into your face. “What’s this for?”
“Knowing you, you probably haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” He pauses in the doorway and adds on sheepishly, “And I can't cook anything, so this is what you get.”
Your heart swells tenfold, and your smile widens even more as you spear a piece of fruit with the fork and quickly pop it into your mouth. “Thanks, Marky.”
His cheeks flush with a pretty shade of carmine, and he fails to suppress the little giddy smile that appears on his face at your nickname for him. He walks out of your office, reddened cheeks still rising up higher than ever. “Y-Yeah, of course. No problem.”
By the time you finish adding the final few touches to your edited video, the bowl of watermelon has been picked clean. You save your video and transfer both of your completed projects to your phone, making a mental note to schedule their uploads and add them to your account’s posting queue later. Shoving your phone in the pocket of your sweats after ensuring the successful transfer of your videos, you pick up the empty dish and walk out towards the kitchen, the silver fork clinking against the side of the bowl with every step.
As you wash the dish and utensil, Mark wanders over from his spot on the couch, leaning forward and casually placing his chin on your shoulder. Almost instantaneously, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you briefly fantasize about your best friend wrapping his arms around your waist and how domestic and sweet the two of you would look, like one of those cheesy couples the two of you always made fun of.
“What’s up?” you ask, making a conscious effort to hold your voice steady and not waver over the fact that Mark is basically draped over you. After you place the dish on the drying rack, you turn around to face your best friend, sorely miscalculating the distance as mere inches separate your face from his now.
“I—” Puberty decides to make an ugly appearance in the form of an ill timed voice crack, and he internally curses as he takes a step back, willing the incoming blush to go away. Letting out a small cough, he tries again, scratching the back of his neck nervously.
“I, um, Jisung sent me some kind of dance video. He said it’s a challenge? I kinda don’t know what to do with it? Like do I make a new dance, record myself, and send it back? Actually, isn't it easier to just do a dance battle face to face?”
“Can I see the video?” You already have a good idea on what the video will be, but you want to confirm it. Mark fumbles with his phone, pulling up the video in his text messages. He angles the phone towards you for you to see, and you grab his hand, bringing the device a little closer to you for a better look and clicking play.
“Oh, it’s a Tiktok challenge! He’s doing the Say So dance!” you exclaim, recognizing the song almost immediately as your eyes follow the fluid dance moves, completely enthralled. “So a challenge isn’t going up against someone, like a battle. It’s just some kind of trend or concept that you try to copy yourself. You’re supposed to learn the same dance and record yourself for this one. I can show you some other challenges and help you practice and record this one tomorrow if you wanna drop by after work!”
“O-Oh, okay, sounds good.” Mark stumbles over his words, attempting to focus on what you’re saying and the dance Jisung is doing, but all he can think about is the way your body is pressed against his side, hand comfortably wrapped around his. He freezes up as the tips of his ears grow redder and redder with every passing second, and his face sports a similar color. He silently prays for the telltale crimson to go away by the time the dance is over.
When the video ends, you once again realize the close proximity between you and your best friend. Your face burns at this revelation, and you awkwardly take a step back. Clearing your throat, you hastily release Mark’s hand (He inaudibly lets out the breath he’s been holding in this entire time, yet he also already misses the way your hand felt grasping his).
“Uh, anyway, I’m gonna make a latte. Do you want a drink, too?” You walk towards the other side of your kitchen with Mark trailing behind you. You take out a floral, peachy colored mug from your cupboards before pausing and looking at your best friend. “Wait, do you remember how to use a Keurig?”
“Yes!” He says, slightly exasperated as he picks out his own cup from your cabinet. He always uses the same one—a cerulean blue mug with squiggles all over it—and all of your friends and guests know not to use it because it’s unofficially officially Mark’s mug (And perhaps, you did indeed buy it from that overpriced kitschy tableware shop down the street two years ago with your best friend in mind).
“Really?” You select the latte option and press start after you had already positioned the mug beneath the spout and inserted a green tea matcha pod. He finally relents, shoulders sagging and a defeated expression on his face.
“... No.”
You chuckle, taking the mug from him and carefully putting it on the counter. You grab the espresso pod you know he likes from the drawer below and place it next to the cup. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you again.”
Mark tries. He really does. He tries very hard to concentrate on memorizing the simple process, but he keeps getting distracted. His eyes are focused on the correct button to push before they start to trail up to your fingertips. And then, they go from your hand to your arm, then up to the elegant curve of your neck, and finally, to the way your lashes frame your pretty eyes and how the tip of your tongue sticks out slightly as you concentrate until all he can focus on is you, you, you.
Suddenly, in what feels like a blink of an eye, you’re done and handing him his finished drink, complete with a perfectly whipped milk foam on top. You ask him if he knows how to make it now, and all he can do is lie and nod with a barely convincing smile.
After all, how can Mark tell his best friend that the reason he never remembers is because you’re the biggest distraction?
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Mark should be here in five minutes, according to his most recent text message. And in the text message below that, your friend had sent you a challenge. More specifically, it’s the one she completed with Donghyuck a few weeks ago. When you said you wanted bold suggestions on how to figure out if your best friend feels the same way about you as you do about him, you didn’t want one this bold. 
Yet, the video link to your friend’s “today I kissed my best friend” challenge along with a winky face from her is staring mockingly at you. While you aren’t one to back down from a challenge, the mere thought of kissing your best friend causes vast colonies of butterflies to erupt in your stomach and your ears to feel as if they have caught on fire. You’re already tongue tied with your head in the clouds, and he isn’t even here yet. How utterly fantastic.
However, your mother definitely did not raise a quitter, so you spring into action when you hear the faint jingling of a key being inserted into your apartment’s door (You had given Mark a copy of your key almost immediately after you had moved in). You move the pretty indoor fern given to you by Jaemin as a housewarming gift last year closer to the edge of your towering bookcase, leaning your phone against it. You quickly position the device to capture a good view of the couch area in your living room and press the record button, arranging a few of the leaves to hide as much of your phone as you possibly can without obstructing the lens.
You run full speed to your bedroom, letting out a sigh of relief when you’re safely inside and hear Mark finally unlocking the door successfully and shuffling in. When he calls out to you, you try to even out your breathing, walking out of your room with your tripod and laptop in hand.
“Hey,” you greet him in the most casual tone you can muster. You place the tripod down and sit before opening your laptop and setting it on the coffee table. “I thought we could watch a few challenges for fun before trying the Say So one. Have you watched Jisung’s videos before?”
“Um, well, no, not really,” he confesses sheepishly, taking a seat next to you on the couch, leg pressing against yours. He squints at the YouTube video you pulled up earlier before he had arrived, reading the title before clicking the space button to start it. “Savage Tiktok dance compilation part two?”
“Wait, hold up.” You pause the video and then turn to face him with an incredulous expression on your face. “You’ve never watched any of Jisung’s dance Tiktoks?”
“No… I don’t even have an account.” His cheeks are dusted with the lightest shade of pink as he quietly admits, “I watch all of yours though.”
Your eyes widen at his confession, face heating up as you stammer out, “O-Oh, well, I can help you make an account later to upload your video.”
“Sounds good.” There’s a few seconds of silence as you mull over his previous words before he speaks up again awkwardly, “Should I, uh, play the video?”
“Oh! Yes, right! Of course, hit play,” you laugh nervously, twisting and playing with the hair tie around your wrist. He starts the video again, and the two of you watch the compilation, slowly relaxing once more as you tap your fingers to the rhythm of the song and he bobs his head to the beat.
“Do I have to change outfits like that?” he questions a few minutes later, eyes growing round as he sees the girl on the screen switch between four different outfits throughout the dance. His closet basically consists of the same five black shirts that he stole from Jaehyun. Even if he did do an outfit swap, there would literally be no difference at all.
“You don’t have to,” you assure him, clicking the enter key to play the next video that’s recommended: another Tiktok dance challenge compilation. “All you have to do is copy the dance.”
Mark nods, taking a glance at the laptop screen before his hand shoots out and he pauses the video, leaning forward to take a closer look at the little recommended video title banner at the top. “Wait! What’s that one?”
He clicks on it, the new video now loading up. The two of you wait patiently for it to begin, waiting for the spinning disc to stop. But it doesn’t. In fact, the whole chrome page goes blank and then, the little pixelated Google Chrome dinosaur pops up on your monitor, announcing that you have no internet connection. Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to reload the page before trying to re-establish your laptop connection to your wifi. Unfortunately, you cannot find your appropriately named “drop it like it’s hotspot” wifi anywhere to connect to.
And that’s when it hits you. Your landlord had sent out a notice to the entire apartment complex last week about the electricity being powered down today from 4 to 6 p.m. for a maintenance check, and a quick glance at the digital clock on your laptop shows that it’s a little past four.
You groan, closing your laptop and flopping back against the couch cushions dramatically. Mark cocks his head, slightly confused, before he pokes you in the arm. “What’s wrong?”
“I completely forgot about the scheduled electricity shutdown for the entire building. We won’t have any wifi for the next two hours.” You pout, your bottom lip jutting out in the slightest, and Mark doesn’t think it’s fair that you get to be this cute and have this much of an effect on his racing heart rate.
“That’s okay, we can… play some board games?” he suggests offhandedly, pushing away the embarrassing thought and nudging your leg with his, and you smile before a sudden idea occurs to you. 
“Or we can still do some Tiktok challenges! What was the challenge you clicked on?” You quickly sit upright, turning to face your best friend, eyes sparkling in excitement. “I memorized a few of the dance ones already! Was it Renegade? I can teach you that one. Jisung showed me how to do it.”
“Um,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. His eyes dart everywhere, except you, as he lets out a feigned cough. “It wasn’t a dance one. It was about, uh, going up to your boyfriend… and um, hugging him... when he’s playing video games.”
“Oh.” You answer lamely, not knowing what to say. You unsuccessfully try to push away the image of you attempting that challenge with your best friend. “Those are really cute.”
“Really?” He says doubtfully, wrinkling his eyebrows and fiddling with the frayed sleeve of his sweater. “Wouldn’t the dude get mad?”
You don’t know what suddenly possessed you to do this (you’ll have to ask Renjun and his paranormal loving ass later), but you thank whatever demon did for that split second because you find yourself gently grabbing Mark’s arm and slipping your head underneath it. You swing one leg over his lap and settle down until you’re securely sitting in his lap, bent legs on either side of his hips, hands curled around the soft fabric of his sweater on both sides and resting on top of your thighs. His arms instinctively go around your waist, wrapping around you securely.
You tilt your head to the side slightly, studying the flustered boy in front of you with a teasing, albeit a little anxious, smile on your lips. “Are you feeling mad?”
Splotches of red litter his cheeks and decorate the tips of his ears, but your best friend furiously shakes his head at your question, bashfully ducking his head afterwards and muttering a soft “No.”
You swallow hard, heart pounding erratically in your chest as you timidly ask, “Would you be mad if I do this?”
Mark looks up at that, confusion written all over his face. His arms start to loosen around your figure, hands now resting on your waist. “If you do what?”
You take a deep breath. “This.”
You lean in and gently press your lips against his. Mark freezes in shock, and you quickly retreat soon after, gnawing at the inside of your cheek as you wait anxiously for his reaction. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and be buried six feet under.
A tiny noise of surprise belatedly escapes from him and crimson spreads across his cheeks like wildfire. His doe eyes are wide and sparkling, staring at you in bewilderment. Your best friend lets out a small laugh of disbelief before a full blown smile breaks out across his face. He gazes at you adoringly, breathing out softly, “I’m not mad at that.”
You perk up at that, draping your arms around his neck as you lean forward, beaming. “Really? You’re not?”
“Definitely not.”
This time, Mark meets you halfway, his lips slotting against yours perfectly and making you feel tingles up and down your spine. Your eyes are closed, and you are so hyper aware of the way his hands grip your hips, how he tugs you closer, and how his lips chase after yours. The number of butterflies from earlier multiply in your stomach, and you have ascended past cloud nine by now.
When the two of you break apart, your eyes flutter open, and you nudge your nose against his affectionately. The brightest grin blooms on his face once again, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his little giggles and hiding the awfully vibrant cerise that rapidly blossoms on his face.
“Is this a good time to tell you congrats for completing your first challenge?” you say, resting your cheek against the crown of his head. You pull away when he lifts his head up, surprised.
“I wasn’t playing video games though,” he says slowly, processing your words and thinking back to the challenge that started this all.
“It was a different challenge. It’s the one that Hyuck did a few weeks ago,” you confess, and realization dawns on him, his face lighting up for a split second before a look of horror takes over.
“Oh, no. Is that why you had your phone recording on the bookshelf?” Mark asks, dread beginning to cloud his mind.
“Yes…” you say slowly, a little perplexed. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Oh my god, I ruined your video,” he moans, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder. “I saw your phone when I walked in and thought you were filming earlier and forgot to turn it off, so I turned it off for you.”
When the words finally register in your mind, you can’t stop the laughter from bubbling out of your throat, and he raises his head up to look at you with wide doe eyes at the pretty sound. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”
You can’t stop laughing at the situation, and he looks at you worriedly, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly. You force yourself to calm down, a soft chuckle leaving your lips before you beam at him, leaning in and placing the softest kiss on the tip of his nose. “It’s okay, Mark. I’m not mad. That video wasn’t important anyway.”
“But still,” he whines before letting out a groan and slapping his hand against his forehead when the realization sinks in even further. “I’m such an idiot.”
“But you’re my idiot now, right?” you say teasingly, albeit a little shyly as well, as you reach over to tug his hand away from his face and lace your fingers with his.
“I mean, I kinda thought I was always your idiot,” Mark laughs softly and a little embarrassedly, eyes averted and cheeks turning pinker than ever. The largest grin spreads across your face at that, and you turn away slightly to hide it. You didn’t think your best friend can possibly be any more endearing, but he manages to prove you wrong every time.
“Well, then now you can add ‘Y/N’s boyfriend’ to your resume,” you say, and he fails to suppress the pleased smile appearing on his face at your remark, his rosy cheeks rising even taller than skyscrapers.
“So, uh, what sort of job description does that have?” He gazes at your intertwined hands in wonder, still completely giddy at the reality of you being his best friend and something more.
“Sharing hoodies, giving me attention, kissing, holding my hand, going on dates, you know, the basics,” you answer, squeezing his hand tenderly, and his doe eyes instantly light up. Mark feels a little bolder than before, and it shows when he grins widely and says:
“Can we do number three again?”
“Yes, we can, Eggy Boi.”
He wrinkles his nose at the name, disgruntled and unimpressed, as he crosses his arms over his chest, sulking. You let out a laugh before leaning in and crashing your lips against his. He immediately relents at that, enthusiastically responding and hugging you closer to him, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as you feel his own smile appear as well.
At that moment, you decide that you want to change Mark’s personal brand. Because his should be “absolutely wonderful, positively amazing, a cute kisser, your boyfriend, and your bestest friend.” And yes, that is most definitely more than the allotted three words, but again, who’s really counting?
Certainly not you when you’re too preoccupied with kissing your best friend. Correction: best friend and new boyfriend.
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One new notification: donutkillmyvibe uploaded a new video!
moominjun commented:
so you’re saying the reason why we didn’t get the highly anticipated best friend challenge video is because @ marklyrawr turned the camera off?
donutkillmyvibe replied: yes 😔 I’m sorry to disappoint everyone 🤧
nanaislove replied: omg no bby it’s ok 🥺🥺💞💓💓💝💗 you didn’t have to make an apology video for that 🥺💗💓💘💖
goofys.chuckle replied: yeah it’s mark’s fault. he’s the disappointment here 🥴
morklyrawr replied: hahahahaha stfu hyuck
tytrack commented:
mark is going through puberty. I apologize
dobunny replied: @.@
goofys.chuckle commented:
are we getting whip(ped)lash pt 2 by eggy boi?
morklyrawr replied: YOU’RE THE ONE WHO STARTED THAT NAME?????
goofys.chuckle replied: uh gotta blast 🚀
showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle does this mean you’re staying over again?
goofys.chuckle replied: @ showmethemonet yes if you want your super cute, mega talented, very handsome boyfriend to still be alive 🥺
showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle oh my god I didn’t know I was dating bts jin???
moominjun replied: LMFAOOOOO
goofys.chuckle replied: heart 💔 been broke 📉 so many times ⏰ i don’t know 🤔 what to believe 💯 mama 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 said 🗣 it’s my fault 😢 it’s my fault 🤦🏻‍♂️i wear my heart ❤️ on my sleeve 💪 i think it’s best 👍🏻 I put my heart ❤️ on ice 🧊
jenojam commented:
why am I not surprised……
itsmebetch replied: just mark thingz 🍉
suhprisemf commented:
mark your head looks flat af
jungjaeprince replied: 😂😂😂
10vely replied: @ jungjaeprince be quiet don’t cry
letswonwon commented:
whoop whoop
junguwu commented:
OMG CONGRATS ON YOUR RELATIONSHIP SWEETIE 😍😍
takoyaki_prince commented:
MARK!!!!! you look handsome !! 😘
jisungpwark commented:
rip to @ donutkillmyvibe ’s future videos that mark will ruin. press f in the chat to pay respects 🙏🏻
bigheadking replied: F ✊🏻😔
peachyangel replied: f 🥺🥺
yoitslucas replied: F 🤪🤪🤪 but glad you’re happy, man ❤️
donutkillmyvibe replied: F 💔
morklyrawr replied: @ donutkillmyvibe wtf babe????
officialgordonramsay commented:
didn’t i tell you to get back on tinder ?
apado_god commented:
nice 😎👍🏻
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mattskeebah · 6 years ago
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PLEASE READ
I know how much y’all hate “your fave is problematic” posts...but it’s necessary.
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Summary: Matt Skiba, singer of the band Alkaline Trio and member of Blink-182, has nazi tattoos, is a fan of nazi bands, made tasteless nazi related paintings, is best friends with Boyd Rice, and in fact, owns nazi insignia. Matt claims to be a feminist but likes countless scantily clad pics of young models and sex workers and follows actual porn actresses on IG. Also, he never distanced himself from Asia Argento and still sells t-shirts with her face on them in his webstore. Matt supports the police and the military and he has a weird gun fetish. He attacked fans who criticized his behavior and his problematic associations.
---
WHY I STOPPED BEING A FAN OF MATT SKIBA
He supports the police as an instutition, specifically Chicago PD. He made a post on Instagram in favor of CPD which ofc received backlash from fans but he ignored the negative comments and brushed it off as “there are bad people in every profession” and then he deleted the post. Thanks to a Tumblr user who screencapped it: [x] please notice the tiny blue (lives matters) heart. Also, here are some “cute” pics of him wearing police-related stuff [x] [x] and check out this post of him “repping” new CPD merch on his car [x] (he disabled the comments).
He supports the military, which might be because his parents served in the Vietnam war, but that doesn’t make it less shitty. Examples for his military-support can be found all over his Instagram. [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] and so on... and in this post he’s delighted that a soldier in Afghanistan is wearing an Alkaline Trio patch. [x]
He’s close friends with Asia Argento / or had possible romantic relationship with her and he still sells t-shirts with her face on them in his merch shop. For those of you who don’t know her, she was one of the leaders of the #metoo movement but then it was revealed that she herself had sex with an intoxicated 17-year-old (!) and her bf Anthony Bourdain gave the boy money so he would keep his mouth shut about the incident, ((later Bourdain committed suicide))
Story of a fan who gave Matt a letter criticizing him for being friends with Argento, and the same night he posted a picture of her on IG (I think it was this post)… which seems like a subtle F*CK YOU at the person who gave him the letter. (he can’t take criticism, can he?)
His IG activity is .. something else. Matt’s major interests are motorbikes, cars, and young, attractive, half-naked models and strippers. One of his recent likes (nudity and bruises cw) [x] [x] [x] [x]….that one is an actual porn actress he follows and thirsts over: (more nudity cw) [x] he commented ‘cool butt momma. miss you xoxo’ [x] [x] (liked)…and my “personal fave” a picture with a sex worker [x] he deleted the picture ofc
HE LOVES GUNS (+said that he would use them) he has quite a big gun collection: SIG SAUERs, a Morning Star, many knifes, a shotgun, a Desert Eagle gun, a samurai sword, a faux snakeskin baton, and more stuff I can’t remember, he posted his collection on November 5th 2018 on IG, but unfortunately I didn’t take a screenshot!! but he posted them individually on IG. [x] [x] [x] [x] etc. and a recently deleted pic at the shooting range [x] ……also this pic exists.. edgelord (tw gun to the head).
In the comments of the same post (I swear on my life it’s real, you have to trust me) a user commented that he’s a Trump supporter but he would still defend Matt, even if he’s “politically left”. Matt’s answer: “I would defend you too, my man!”. o k a y. then Matt said he identifies as “quite a bit left” o K AY. MATT. Just so btw. the user also had a name including “88″ ( is a code phrase commonly used in fascist circles for “Heil Hitler”) or he just meant the year 88. but I saw some racist “memes” on his IG too.
Matt has a weird obsession with WW2. He literally watched a holocaust docu on HIS FUCKING BDAY (or at least he posted about it) and he said he collects WW2 books. Theoretically, nothing wrong with being interested in history, but in the context of everything… bad vibes……….
He really loves Nordic/Scandinavian-related stuff, like jewelry of the Hammer of Thor etc and he even uses MS runes for his merch. Runes are popular among occultists but they also have a really problematic history concerning WW2 and the nazis. Considering one of his most favorite bands Death in June mentions runes in their lyrics and they are a REALLY REALLY questionable band flirting with nazi imagery and being openly affiliated with fascist and far-right satanists, I have every right to question Matt’s intentions.
He literally has a crutch cross tattoo on his chest (which was used as the symbol of Austro-Fascism, and is also the logo of the neo folk - nazi band Blood Axis) PHOTO 1, PHOTO 2 and an EDELWEISS tattoo [x], which is the national flower of Austria and is considered a magical flower in occult circles. Nothing wrong with having a flower tattoo but it was used a lot in the context of nationalsocialism and “traditional values”. To add, it was also used as a symbol of the 1st Mountain division “Gebirgsjäger” in WW2 (Hitler’s elite formation of the Wehrmacht who were involved in large scale war crimes). 
Matt OWNS NAZI INSIGNIA. He is wearing a WW2 Edelweiss patch in this pic [x] and here [x] combined with a crutch cross patch (Alk3 used an iron cross backdrop at their concerts 2014ish and a crutch cross symbol on their guitar picks btw.)
He owns several Death In June patches, their merch [x] [x] [x] [x] etc. and other patches and buttons featuring nazi-related symbols. [DIJ WIKI]. He is also friends with their singer. Matt’s a huge DIJ fan, attended their concerts [x] and Douglas P. reads the intro of the Alkaline Trio song “I Found Away”. DIJ uses fascist symbols and “aesthetics” for the band, including an SS Totenkopf logo.
Matt painted the same logo and exhibited it at an art show [x]
HE LITERALLY DID PAINTINGS REFERENCING DOLLFUSS AND MUSSOLINI and another piece of “art” called “surf nazis” [x] what the actual f   u    c  k .. and here he is with his painting of Mickey Mouse as Hitler [x]
HE IS BEST FRIENDS with Boyd Rice, (here’s a picture of them holding Wolfsangels, a nazi symbol) they are REALLY CLOSE. According to Rice’s IG they meet every week and hang out and Rice considers Matt “family”… the entire Boyd Rice shit can be read in this post (important please read). Matt even attacked fans that were calling him out and called them stupid.
The first liked video on his Youtube channel is a video about neo-nazi biker gangs in Germany....... [x]
He is friends with Kat von D, she did a few of his tattoos and she appeared in the Alk3 video “Help Me”.
He collabed with Jeffree Star on a violent song [x]
He was at an art show of a friend who used nazi symbols (!)
posts like these [x] [x]
In this interview [x] he’s pretty much romanticizing that people got stabbed back then at concerts and that there was a big skinhead scene (he wasn’t “stoked” about the violence happening BUT “the energy surrounding” was “very ATTRACTIVE” to him. Make of that what you will.)
When he was a sophomore in HS (and on acid) he beat up a classmate who threw a U.S. flag on the floor. [x]
Matt made a racist remark a few years ago about Chinese people [x] and according to him //or he’s joking// he has a tattoo on his dick that says “welcome to Jamaica” which can be interpreted as racist.
Many of the movies he praises blatantly depict violence against women, like Blue Velvet, Funny Games, A Clockwork Orange (it has almost 3 rape scenes in the first 15 minutes), lyrics like “Radio” can be seen as misogynist, he literally wishes that his ex-GF (/or someone’s ex-gf) should take a bath with a radio and get electrocuted.
A person on IG commented that his ex-girlfriend accused him of domestic violence, I have no proof for that but he deleted the comments ofc and then a few days later he donated money to a women’s shelter in LA… which seems like he’s trying to avoid a shitstorm…
He compared L.A. women to zoo animals in this interview [x].
He cheated on his ex-gf(s) which I think should go on this list too.
Matt used to be a member of the Church of Satan, just leaving this here. you can argue if it’s good or bad but there seems to be a connection between satanists and neo-nazis .. sadly.
He listed the song* “Los Angeles” by X among his faves in this interview [x] (*edit: Someone has reached out to me and explained that the song was not racist, antisemitic or anything but from the *perspective* of a racist. However, we don't know Matt's reason for liking the song and considering his WW2 fetish, it's sketchy that he would consider the song as one of his favorites. Maybe he likes it because the song openly says things out loud under the veil of "sarcasm" that would be criticized under different circumstances. See also: [Oscar Wild was right.] Matt still listened to the band in 2014 and was at a concert of them [x], even months after their singer spew right-wing conspiracy theories concerning (school) shootings.
THIS FUCKING PICTURE OF HIM WITH A CHARLES MANSON DOLL AND A SW*STIKA. He still had the doll in other pictures [x] [x].
This picture I found on a fansite. It’s supposed to be Matt as a child.. where does that even come from and why is he wearing a military hat with something that vaguely looks like an eagle (?)
I can’t be the only one who noticed that but Matt had a vaguely ~nazi haircut thoughout the years and even some sort of nazi / white power aesthetic~ going on, even fans recognized it as such [x] [x] [x] and in the context of him hanging out with Boyd Rice like this in this picture [x] it’s safe to say he was EXACTLY GOING FOR THAT LOOK.
When he was in Germany during the Blink-182 tour 2017 he proudly posed at a famous Third Reich location in the Alps. Yk. nothing wrong with visiting historical locations but in the context of everything mentioned in this post. IT LOOKS REALLY BAD.
…probably more.. this man is a walking disaster
- - -
In this post I listed a lot, there are probably some things you would consider “minor” because they happened years ago but I thought I’d mention them anyway. Also, I’m not saying he has those beliefs but he definitely doesn’t distance himself from nazi(-sympathizing) scum like Boyd Rice and keeps being BFFs with him. And what’s up with the problematic tattoos and WWII insignia? I can’t be the only one who thinks this is not okay!!!
Thanks for reading.
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strawberriestyles · 6 years ago
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Chapter 26
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(Banner made by the loveliest @harry-nofookingway-styles)
Harry X OFC (AU)
In which Melody is reacquainted with an old classmate named Harry, and must keep afloat in the violent, criminal life of an underground boxer.
Read previous parts here.
Author’s note: LAST CHAPTER Y’ALL. EPILOGUE TO COME. I’M SO SORRY. XX Pls like, reblog, send feedback. :’)
There were a lot of Harry’s things scattered over Melody’s apartment. She realized this in the next few weeks. T-shirts, sweatshirts, a roll of tape, hair ties. She even found a stick of his deodorant in the bathroom. It all made her nauseous.
Bea was back. Part of it was because Melody had told her all about what happened with Harry. But part of it was also because she and Dom had been arguing, with their new constant proximity. They needed some separation.
“That was a pretty shitty move, Mel,” she had said. And she was right.
Melody still couldn’t wrap her mind around the end of her relationship. It felt like the wrong ending to a book, like the last few pages were missing. But Bea thought it would be easier if there weren’t reminders of Harry everywhere.
“Boys are so fucking weird,” Bea said, stuffing another item into the tote bag full of his things. “How do you go somewhere wearing a jacket and then leave without it?"
Melody didn’t reply. She was folding up a worn cotton shirt, the logo of Harry’s gym peeling off the front. It was her favorite to sleep in because it was the oldest, most-washed, softest of all his clothing. She swallowed around the knot in her throat and placed the shirt deep within the bag so that she wouldn’t have to look at it.
Bea leaned back on her knees. A strange calm had come over Melody since she’d been with her. Or perhaps not calm, but resignation. And Bea knew that Melody had had break ups before. She had witnessed one the previous year, when they were living closer to campus, in a nicer apartment that neither of them could really afford. That was Nate, an archaeology major, and it had taken Melody all of two days to forget the entirety of their three month relationship. This was different.
“I can come with you, if you want,” Bea offered gently. She toyed with the freshly-washed curls that were dangling over her forehead, stretching them out to dry to her liking.
Melody smiled at her, or tried to. She couldn’t get her cheeks to lift. She didn’t feel the overwhelming urge to cry, though. And she didn’t know if that was a good sign, that she was able to keep her emotions under wraps, or if that meant that her tears were just pooling, preparing for an onslaught when she saw Harry for perhaps the last time.
“No, I think I need to do this on my own,” Melody whispered back. “But thank you.”
“Of course.” Bea rose to her feet and took a sip of the smoothie that she had made for an afternoon snack. There was one for Melody too, but it hadn’t been touched. “Get in, get out, okay? Even better if he’s not there. Just drop the shit off and come home. We’ll watch a movie or something.”
Melody didn’t really feel up for smoothies or movies, but she nodded anyway. What she really should have been doing was working on the self-portrait for her art class, but she had a hard time going in the studio when Harry’s eye was always staring at her and she would have to use the paintbrushes he’d bought for her birthday. Besides, she had a hard time looking at herself in the mirror lately.
“Okay,” she agreed. She stood, a pair of sneakers already on her feet, a thick sweater already hanging down to her thighs. She pulled the tote over her shoulder and was surprised at its lightness after everything that she and Bea had packed up.
“Come right back.” Bea patted Melody’s hip and then returned to her room.
Melody hurried down the stairs and out onto the street before she could lose her nerve. April had found the city. Melting snow was trickling down from rooftops, forming puddles in the uneven sidewalks. The sun was warm when it was able to peak through clouds, and even though the park was many blocks away, Melody could smell the fresh scent of spring grass. It would have been a welcome change of season if the rest of her life didn’t feel like a muddy mess.
She tried to think only of schoolwork as she avoided joggers and dog-walkers. Her nails, however, were wearing down by the time she reached the corner store. Her teeth had worked of their own accord. That was an old habit, one that she thought she had kicked long ago.
Melody was examining her fingertips as she trailed down the alley where Harry lived. She was distracted, occupied, probably just trying not to think about seeing him again. She didn’t notice that the door was open until she reached his steps.
Melody paused. Her pulse picked up as she remembered the cops that had scared her so terribly, that had had her watching her back for weeks afterward. But Harry was done with that, right? He’d told her he paid off his last shipment and would never sell another gun. But that was for her, wasn’t it? Maybe he’d taken it back up after she was out of the picture. Both of those thoughts made her gut twist.
Get in, get out, she told herself in the same voice that Bea had used. There was no reason for her to stick around. It didn’t seem like the door had been forced open like the last time, only left open. She should just drop the bag in the hall and go home.
Melody sucked in a deep breath and stepped through the doorway. She kept her eyes down, set the tote bag on the other side of Harry’s shoes, and began to back out. But she looked up, bittersweet memories flooding through her, breaking the feeble dams she had begun to construct.
The coffee table was on its side.
Melody’s stomach flipped again. The table was tipped lengthwise, one of its legs splintered. She took a single step forward and that’s when she heard a sharp thud deeper into the flat.
She took a short moment to steel herself and pressed down the hallway. The thudding was coming from Harry’s bedroom. She heard him swear under his breath and then shout something she couldn’t make out over the ringing in her ears.
She was in the doorway, Harry was slumped back against the edge of his mattress. Colton was poised over him. She could recognize him just from his profile. His hand was wrapped around the collar of Harry’s shirt, his muscles tensed just like Harry’s were before a fight.
Melody gasped as Colton delivered a punch to Harry’s abdomen. Both of their heads swung toward her. Harry’s eyes blew wide as he sucked in a pained breath.
“Melody—” He was cut off as Colton slammed a fist into the side of his jaw. He grunted and then shoved against Colton’s chest until he could straighten up.
Colton lost his grip on Harry’s collar, stumbled backward into the dresser, where his arm sent bottles and the picture of Harry and Melody crashing to the floor.
“Melody, get the hell out!” Harry shouted, turning to fix her with an urgent glare. “Now!”
She flinched again as Colton barreled forward, taking Harry down to the floor with him. Her feet reeled her backward. She started back down the hall, frantic, panicked, but she stopped at the corner of the living room. Her eyes flitted to the cabinet at the kitchen’s entrance.
Melody tripped forward as she heard another impact back in the bedroom. Colton was yelling now, but she couldn’t make out his words either. Her breaths were ragged, her fingers trembled, but she still managed to unsnap the holster holding Harry’s handgun. It felt heavy and cold and foreign in her hand. She pulled the hammer back like Harry had, until she heard it click into place. Then she made her way back down the hall.
Melody had no clue what she was doing. She didn’t know anything about guns. She didn’t even like the feel of it in her hand. And when she reached the entrance to the bedroom she couldn’t even raise it.
Harry and Colton were tumbling on the floor. Harry caught sight of her again, over his brother’s shoulder. Blood was dripping from the corner of his mouth. There were spatters staining the collar of his gray t-shirt. And Melody opened her mouth to speak but froze when Harry narrowed his eyes at her.
She jumped and stepped backward as Harry spat in Colton’s face. He sent a fist into his abdomen. They rolled over, out of her line of vision. She heard more hits and the next thing she knew, Harry was in front of her. He slammed the bedroom door behind him and held the knob firmly in his grip. His chest was heaving, his eyes were wide, his pupils dilated as they lowered to her hand.
“I—”
“Mel, go in the bathroom and lock the door,” he commanded, peeling the gun from her fingers. He swiped at the blood running from his mouth with the back of his wrist, and when she hadn’t moved, he shouted, “Go!”
The door behind Harry jiggled violently and the muscles in his arms strained as he tried to keep it closed.
“Open the fucking door!” thundered Colton from the other side.
Harry gave Melody a hard shove and she stumbled backward into the bathroom, finally gaining her wits and shutting the barrier between them. She clicked the lock into place. It was dark. The sounds outside were muffled, but she heard a loud crack and then more fumbling as the fight began again.
With a moment of clarity, she yanked her phone from her pocket and shakily dialed 911, gasping as something crashed in the other room. Her thoughts were jumbled with her panic. She spat out information, though, when her call was answered, and was halfway through describing where she was when she heard a gunshot. Her voice failed her.
“Ma’am?” came from the phone.
Melody’s ears were ringing with the sound of the shot. Her lungs had stopped working. She stared unblinkingly at the single flimsy door that separated her from whoever was on the other side. She waited. Waited for Harry to talk to her through it, but then the woman on the other end of the line kept talking, asking questions, and still he wasn’t there.
Melody dropped her phone when a minute had passed, when there was no sound from outside the bathroom. She hesitated, but she clicked the lock out of place and peeked into the empty hall, into the bedroom where all she could see were Harry’s sheets spilling onto the floor. She stepped across the hallway and peeked around the corner.
“No, no, no, no,” Melody chanted as she stumbled past the dresser and shattered bottles and fell to her knees. Harry didn’t even flinch as she gripped his limp arm. She crawled up his side, into the blood that had begun to collect around him. There was a lot of blood. So much blood. Spreading out through the carpet fibers. She didn’t think a single person could hold much more.
Harry’s eyes were closed. His hair was sticking to the side of his head. Melody pressed her fingers to his cheek as she started to cry. She reached for the sheets that had been crumpled onto the floor and pressed them to the wet side of his scalp, lifting his head onto her thigh, and she let out a pained sob when none of her jostling pulled a response from him.
“Please,” she choked out as blood began to seep through to her hands. “You’re not dead, you’re not dead, you’re okay, don’t die.”
She didn’t know if she was right. She couldn’t bring herself to check his pulse or his breathing. If she was wrong, she wasn’t sure she could handle it, so she would wait. She’d wait for someone else to do it. Because there were people coming. She could hear the sirens even now, through her sobs and her ringing ears and Harry’s deafening silence.
Epilogue
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snow-lavender · 6 years ago
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The Last Day of Normality
AKA, “Why is there a superpowered teenager in my kitchen?”
Word count: 3075
Didn’t have anything specifically written for Jackie’s birthday today, so I decided to post something I had pre-written. This is my take on Jackie's first appearance. Fully headcanon!
Heads up, contains trans JBM, I know that’s really not some people’s thing.
AO3 link: here
July 10th, 2016
Jackie was done.
He couldn’t deal with this anymore. Fuck his classmates and fuck the school policy and fuck his Aunt Doris and fuck Irish conservatism and just...fuck. He dumped all the books and supplies out of his backpack and threw it onto the bed. You need to start acting properly. Jackie snorted. Yeah, that wasn’t gonna happen anytime soon. Your niece has some behavioral issues we need to address. Of course leave out the fact that the people he kept fighting were total assholes. Any more suspensions and we may have to consider expulsion. As the floorboards creaked, he noticed he was shaking. He tried to take a deep breath and calm down and...no, screw that, he needed to punch something. 
You have such a bright future ahead.
Thump, went the pillow.
You can’t solve every problem like this
Thump.
I’m glad you’re experimenting, but you’ll be an adult soon.
Thump.
What will people think?
Thump.
I have your best interests at heart. 
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Jackie paused, shoulders heaving. It felt like he’d been going at it for ten minutes, but, like always, his clock showed that only two had passed.
I have your best interests at heart. Yeah, that was the problem, wasn’t it. Doris legitimately thought she was in the right, thought they had the same plans for Jackie’s life, expected that her perfect little child would be just that. Perfect.
And Jackie loved her, he really did. Doris was the only family he’d ever known. But damn it, he couldn’t spend another day in this house. 
He grabbed his bag and went to raid his closet. Jeans, shorts, loose tees, sports bras, everything was dumped unceremoniously in. Laptop, chargers, socks, toothbrush- photos.
Jackie stared at the two photos on top of his bookshelf. One was of his parents, cuddling a small bundle of blankets. The other was of him and Doris from a few years ago, smiling in front of the Cliffs of Moher. He hesitated, then shoved them both in his bag as well.
‘hey, can i come over? -Jackie’. He shot off a text to one of his friends, then paced around the room, trying to burn energy.
“Jackie, dinner’s in ten minutes!” his aunt yelled up. 
‘Now? -Morgan :P’
‘preferably -Jackie’
“Alright, I’ll be there soon!” he replied.
‘Kay. Need a drive? -Morgan :P’
‘i can walk -Jackie’
Well, it was now or never. He shouldered his pack and reached for the doorknob...the fuck?
Jackie turned around, blinking in the sudden bright light. A green orb floated in the centre of his room. “What?” he murmured under his breath, reaching out to touch it-
Then there was a flash, and nothing remained in the bedroom but piles of scattered belongings. 
>=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=<
Jackie blinked the spots out of his eyes. When had he fallen on the floor? He moved to get up, then froze when he felt the floor. That wasn’t the carpet from his bedroom. He looked around as his vision cleared up. Instead, he was in a small, wood furnished kitchen. 
“What the fuck?” came a voice to his left.
Jackie looked over. In front of him was a man in his mid-twenties, looking just as confused as he felt. Jackie blinked away the blue glow around him, eyes still spotty from the flash.
“Who the hell are you? How did you get into my apartment?” the man asked.
“I-I don’t know!” Jackie stuttered. “I was just in my bedroom, and there was this weird orb, and then I was here!”
“Orb?” the man repeated. “Like a green, glowy type orb?”
“...yeah?”
He ran his fingers through his very green hair. “ ‘Cause the same thing happened here; I was just makin’ coffee, then there was an orb and it flashed and out popped some random kid.”
Jackie tried to even his breathing. “What the hell? Do you have, like any clue what that was?”
“Maybe? Do you have magic blood?”
“Uh, what?” answered Jackie.
“You don’t come from a magic family, then?” the man pressed. Was this dude delusional? Did Jackie just get teleported into a psych ward? It didn’t look like any hospital he’d ever seen before.
“Magic isn’t real, though.” he said hesitantly, trying not to provoke the man. 
He snorted. “You sure about that?” he said, gesturing around the room, and okay, Jackie had to admit, he might have had a point. The man held out a hand. “I’m Sean.”
The teen took it slowly. “...Jackie.” he replied. “Where am I, exactly?”
“Athlone, County Westmeath.” As he pulled Jackie up, Sean squinted. “Are you Irish? Do you even know what that means?”
“I’m from Dublin. And I made it through fucking primary school, I think I can piece it together.” Jackie said indignantly
Sean held up his hands. “Hey, you can never be too careful.” he chuckled. “You want some tea, Jackie?”
>=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=<
Half an hour later, the two were in Sean’s sitting room. An awkward silence had fallen after the bare minimum of information had been exchanged. (How to contact Jackie’s parents/guardians had been the main point of conversation. Sean had looked a little confused at Jackie's reluctance to contact any other adults, but thankfully hadn’t pried. He’d simply said that it was Jackie’s priorities were his choice, and agreed to figure out their current situation first)
“You said you were from Dublin?” Sean finally asked.
Jackie looked over at him. “Yeah, why?”
Sean squinted. “You looked familiar, so I was wondering if we might be related, but I don’t have much for family in the city.” He paused. “Maybe it’s like that whole ‘There are seven people in the world who look like you’ thing? ‘Cause you look a lot like I did in Uni.”
Jackie took his first real, long look at the man on the other end of the sofa. “You do look kinda like my Dad did.” he conceded after a minute or two.
Sean’s eyes widened. “We’re not dealing with, like, time travel, right? It’s 2016 for you?”
“Yeah.” Jackie laughed. “Thank fuck.”
Sean smiled. “Good, meeting my future kid would come with a shit-ton of questions I don’t want to think about.”
Jackie made a face, setting off another round of laughter between the two. When they calmed, Jackie let out a huff and fell back onto the couch cushions. “So we’re back at square one.”
Sean sat up suddenly. “We might not be, actually.” He fished his phone out of his pocket and started tapping away. “This could be a stretch, but....”
“But what?” Jackie asked. When he got no response, he repeated, “But what?”
Sean still didn’t acknowledge his question, but he did mutter “Perfect.” and then pull himself up from the couch. “I have a friend who might have more information. C’mon.” he said, walking out into the hall.
As he followed after the man, Jackie kept on prodding for information. “You said something about magic families? Can you use magic, then?”
Sean looked up from his phone. “Hm? Oh, yeah, I grew up with it.” he said distractedly. Then he stopped abruptly. “Shit. If you could keep that a secret, that’d be great.”
“Even from this friend of yours?”
“Please.”
Up the stairs and around the corner, Sean opened a door and entered. “Huh.” Jackie said as he followed in. “I think this room has more tech than all of my classrooms combined. What d’you need all this for anyway?”
“I’m a youtuber.” Sean answered from the desk.
“What, like Pewdiepie?”
“Yep.”
Jackie took in his surroundings. His eyes were drawn to a bookshelf filled with various merch and figurines. “What are all of these?”
Sean turned back from the desk. “Huh?” Then a fond smile fell across his face. “They’re gifts, mostly.” He started pointing things out. “That bug is from my friend Suzy, those are from this kid Alfie that I met in London, the Undertale ones there I got at Pax this year, this buddy here I bought myself, but I love him, so he goes on the shelf anyway..”
Jackie nodded as each item was pointed out. He noticed a particular abundance of one logo, and the pieces finally clicked. “Wait…” Jackie whirled around. “You’re that septic dude that Quinn won’t shut up about!”
“Hm?” Sean turned to face him, mid-tangent. “Oh! Probably, yeah.”
“Aren’t you, like, famous?” Jackie questioned. “Why do you live in such a tiny apartment?”
Sean gave him a look. “I’m sorry, that was kinda shitty, wasn’t it?” Jackie said after a second. “Kinda.” the other agreed, “I get that sort of thing a lot, don’t worry about.”  He set a hand on Jackie’s shoulder. 
The two were interrupted by a skype ringtone coming from the desktop. Sean bolted over to pick up, Jackie following behind a moment later.
The call opened, displaying a worried looking man. “Jack! Is everything okay over there?”
“Uhh, sorta? It’s a little complicated.” Sean gestured for Jackie to move into frame. As he did, Sean’s friend inhaled sharply. “Jackie, this is Mark. Mark, Jackie. He just kinda ...popped into my apartment. Soo… yeah.” he finished awkwardly.
“Hi?” Jackie said, giving a small wave.
Mark cursed under his breath. “Okay, now I get why you mentioned the... yeah, that clears things up. Uhh, I’m gonna just...gimme a sec.” He typed something frantically into his phone. “Nice to meet you Jackie. Jack mentioned-” he paused. “That’ll get confusing fast.”
“You could just, you know, call me by my actual name?” Sean replied with a smirk.
“But that’s weird!” the other whined, grinning. “Alright then, Seeaaan. I’m gonna pop into the office to grab Google. Be right back!” and with that, Mark hung up the call.
“Did he say Google?” Jackie asked hesitantly.
“I think so?”
The two stood silently for a few minutes, before Mark called once again. This time, he was sitting at a computer desk. Standing behind him was another person who looked strangely similar to him. This stranger stood rigidly, arms behind their back and face blank. 
“This is Google,'' Mark said. “He’s... uhh...hm, how do I explain you?” he muttered, turning around to glance at him.
Google’s eyes glowed blue. “Designation: Google IRL Humanoid Home Assistant. Model Serial Number: G-IRL 001B. For more information about this product, please consult your user’s manual or contact Google Support online or through telephone.”
“I guess that works.'' Mark said after a moment.
Jackie and Sean stared, dumbfounded. “...Holy shit, is that a robot?” Jackie asked.
“I am an Android.” it (he?) corrected sharply.
“What the fuck.” said Sean.
“Why are you surprised?” Mark asked. “I told you about him. I texted you to complain about him literally last week.”
“Well yeah, but I didn’t think he’d look so much like a machine!”. Sean protested. The robot frowned deeper. 
“But they don’t have that kind of tech at Google yet, right? They would have told us! This is a huge technological leap!” Jackie said, brow furrowed.
“That’s because they didn’t make him.” Mark replied.
“Huh?”
Mark grimaced. “Okay, um, the gist of it is, you have a character, right? From a skit or joke or something. So in my case, sometimes to characters, well,” he gestured behind him, “become real. Somehow. I still have no clue how it works.” 
Jackie gaped, slack jawed. “So you made a video about a robot ...and he just came to life.”
“Yup.”
“Do they all look like you?”
“Yeah, ‘cause I play them first.”
“....uhh….”
“Yup.”
Jackie turned back to Sean. “And you’ve met these...things?”
“I call them figments.” Mark interrupted. “Like ‘figment of the imagination’.”
Sean was still staring at the robot, looking uncomfortable. “I’ve only met one other, when Mark was telling me about them last year.”
Mark winced. “Yeah, I figured Googs would be a better first introduction than Wilford. He’s less...well, just less in general, I guess.”
“Why are you telling me any of this? I don’t get how any of this is-” Jackie froze. “You think I’m like them.”
Sean looked sheepish. “It would explain why we look so similar.”
“But I’m real!” Jackie protested. “I existed before this. I have a life, and friends and all that shit! I’m a real person!”
Mark spoke softly. “All of my guys have backstories, things that feel like they happened. But those people never existed.” He smiled apologetically. “It gets easier with time, I promise.”
“But I’m real.” Jackie repeated. “I can prove it!” He pulled out his phone. “Look, my friends have been texting me non-stop!”. As he spoke, another notification popped up.
New Text from Morgan :P
  Jackie, please answer. Everyone’s really worried about you. Doris called the Garda and everything. 
“See!” Jackie yelled. “They’re real! I’m real! I’m not some imaginary character!”
Sean raised his hands placatingly. “Jackie, calm down. It was just an idea.” He stepped forward.
“Get off of me!” Jackie yelled. He pushed Sean away and ran out the door. 
>=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=<
Jackie ran down the stairs, looking for the bathroom. He needed someplace private. He bolted into the small room and locked the door. Curling up on the floor, he rubbed at his face, and checked his phone to try to calm down.
Meanwhile, in the recording room, Sean and Mark stared in shock at the door. Slowly, Sean pulled himself out of the mattress he’d been shoved into. “Um.” he said eloquently.
“Are you okay?” Mark asked. “Yeah, I think so.” he replied. 
“So, this isn’t exactly the same thing. But do you have any clue what could cause..” He gestured at the door.
“Some random teenager throwing me across the room and then super speeding himself away?” Sean finished.
“Yeah.”
“Unfortunately.”
He stretched, grimacing as he wiggled a shoulder. “I recorded a video where I dressed up like a superhero. It went up today.” Sean sighed. “And I called myself ‘Jackie-boy-man’.”
“Jackie.” Mark echoed.
Sean didn’t reply. “Can I call you if I need anything else?” he said after a moment.
“Course you can. Anything at all, man.”
“Thanks.” Sean walked over to the computer. “Thanks for everything. See ya.”
“Bye. Good luck Sean.”
Sean hung up the call and put his head in his hands. “What the hell am I supposed to do now?” he muttered. 
Leave him. Make him leave.
“Nope, none of that.” Sean replied.
Not his home. Not your responsibility.
“Stop it. Just because I don’t need to help doesn't mean I shouldn’t.”
Bleeding heart. Weak resolve.
“Okay, you can stop now.” Sean said, standing up. “I’m going to talk to him, and he’ll decide what to do, and you,” he emphasized, “are going to shut up and be reasonable for once.”
He left to recording room and started looking through the house. Jackie wasn’t in any of the bedrooms, not in the living room, not the dining room, or the kitchen…
When he tried the door to the toilet, it was locked. Sean knocked hesitantly. “You okay in there?” he asked. There was no response. “Can I do anything to help?” Still nothing. He tried once more. “D’you want some more tea?”.
That one got a quiet “Okay.” Sean left for the kitchen, and when he returned, Jackie was sitting against the hall wall, head on his knees. He set the two mugs down on the floor, before sitting himself. It took a little while, but Jackie finally spoke up. “I’ve been missing for two days.”
“What?” Sean exclaimed.
“Before I was here, I was in my room, on Friday night.” he sighed. “My friends think I ran away or something.”
“Did you talk to them just now?” 
Jackie covered his face further. “Mhm. Told ‘em I was safe. But what else do I say? ‘Hey, by the way, I got magically transported across the country, and also imaginary friends can be real, and also I might be one of them?!’”, he rambled.
“Yeah, Mark and I talked some more after you left.” Sean paused. “You got out of there crazy fast. Like, inhumanly fast. Did...did you know you have super speed?”
Jackie stared at him. “...I just figured I was bad at time management.”
“You threw me across the room.”
“...And anger management.” He looked up, worriedly. “You’re okay, right?” 
“Yeah, I landed on a mattress.” Sean smiled. “And I’m not mad. You should have seen some of the shit I did when I was still learning control. My parents have repainted the kitchen twice, and you can still see some of the scorch marks.” he chuckled.
Jackie laughed too. “Okay, sure, why not add superpowers to today’s what-the-fuck list.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Anything else, Universe? You wanna add multiple realities or some shit to the mix?”
They laughed. “Yeah, what a fuckin’ great birthday.” Jackie snorted.
Sean turned to him, surprised. “Happy Birthday! How old are you?”
“Seventeen.” Jackie smiled. “One more year, then I can finally move out.” Then he froze. “What if I lived here?”
“What?” said Sean. “How does that make sense?”
“Well, you think I’m one of those figment things, right?” Jackie continued. 
Sean nodded. “Yeah, I think you’re supposed to be a superhero character I made up.”
“All of your friend’s figments are close to him. Besides, you’re the only person who knows what’s going on.”
“I really don’t.” Sean protested.
Jackie shrugged. “Still. We’re, like, connected or something. You could help me figure out these powers or whatever. And…” he shrunk down again. “I wouldn’t really mind moving. I was about to get expelled, anyway.”
Sean rubbed at his forehead. “I’m twenty-six. I can’t raise a teenager. You’re like, ten years younger than me.”
“People make it work.”
He sighed. “I..I’ll think about it?”
Jackie nodded. Sean moved to get up, when Jackie suddenly interrupted. “Wait! Okay. Umm... so, you’re cool with gay people, right?”
Sean looked confused. “Yeah?” Then it clicked. “Oh! Oh no, don’t worry, I’m cool with you being-yeah, it’s okay.”
Jackie looked relieved. “Okay. Okay, cool. Then we’re good. No issue here”
“Gotcha.” Sean stood up, grabbing the mugs. “I’mma deal with these., then I gotta go record. You can use my Playstation, if you want. And I’m upstairs if you need anything.”
Jackie flashed him a thumbs up, then went back into the bathroom. He braced himself on the sink and looked into the mirror.
A superhero, huh?
Yeah, that could work. 
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kami-cullen · 7 years ago
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Snowbaz One shot
So I did this, I have no idea why I love angsty things but here it is, it was supposed to be a little 500 words drabble, but ended up being a 2000 words one shot, this is my first Snowbaz fanfic, I haven't written fanfiction in YEARS (since my Twihard days), it is also my first attempt to write fanfition in english (I'm from Ecuador, and we speak Spanish here), so I hope it's understandable, this is not edited so there might me maaaany mistakes, so please don't be too hard on me, and enjoy :D
Word count: 2329
TW: Panic Attacks 
Hurt/Comfort - Domestic Fluff 
read it on ao3;  http://archiveofourown.org/works/12424812
Baz:
It’s been three months since Simon found out that the Mage was his father, and I seem to be a little bit on edge even since, let me explain why, at the beginning Simon took the news surprisingly well, he didn’t cry o had a meltdown o anything like that, but after only three days of finding out, he had his first panic attack, he got so scared he made himself sick and he said he was sure he was having a heart attack, Bunce was out of town and so I panicked and started casting healing spells, turns out that those spells only work on wounds or in more, well, physical illnesses, so I ended up taking him to the Normals hospital and they explained us what was going on.
Simon talked about it with his therapist and she apparently told him that it was a normal reaction to that kind of situation, she gave him some info and tips to control them, but it has been really hard on him. I’m sure I couldn’t deal with that but Simon is strong, stronger than me.
The thing is, sometimes there’s a trigger sometimes it just happens, and I worry, I feel like I’m on edge all the time, waiting for a crisis to happen, we’ve been dating for over a year now and I guess we just take life as it comes, sometimes it's shitty but mostly it's a good life, a life I didn’t think I could ever have.
Today we had lunch together and now I’m walking to my university’s library to do a project with some of my classmates, I get there, get settled, and we start our homework, it’s been less than half an hour when the stupid song that Simon put as his ringtone starts to ring loudly. Did I mention I’ve been on edge for the last three months? So when the phone rings, I instantly worry.
“Simon. Is everything ok?” “N-no, can you come pick me up?, please” I can hear he is breathing really fast “What happened?! where are you?!” “Just a few blocks away, sitting on a bench, I kinda… panicked a little, but I’m not hurt or anything I just, I-I need you” I relax instantly and try to use a reassuring voice “Ok, I understand, breathe love, I’m on my way, I’ll be there in no time, don’t move” He let’s out a broken chuckle “I don’t think I could, even if I tried” he tries to joke, It breaks my heart a little.
I don’t even realize I’m running until I’m out of the building and into the streets again, I just left. My laptop, books, and notebooks forgotten, I run really fast, no caring a single fuck if anyone sees me running at vampire speed, I just have to get to him. I have only ran a couple blocks when I see him, he’s sitting on a bench hugging his knees and shaking like crazy, some people are passing by and they give him strange looks and I want to bite them all, I collect myself for a second before I approach him.
I sit next to him quietly, put my arm around his shoulders, and bring him close to me, he is sobbing, his eyes are red and puffy, his cheeks flushed and he is sweating and shaking, he looks so young we he's like this, It makes me want to keep him safe from this horrible world that wants to break my beautiful boy.
He lets go of his knees to hug me tight, I can feel his hands shaking on my back “hey love” I say softly putting my hand on his curls “it’s ok now, I’m right here, you’re ok” I let him cry a few more minutes because sometimes it seems to help, then I take one of his hands and put it on my chest, I discovered by the third panic attack that the ‘numbers technique’ that his therapist gave him doesn’t work on him, she told him to inhale counting to three, hold his breath counting from three to five and exhale counting from five to eleven.
He tried it a couple times but said he was to panicked to count, so instead whenever he has a panic attack I bring his hand to my chest and breath slowly, letting him feel the slow pase so he can match it with his on own breathing, the bloody therapist said that we should not use that a regular way to calm him down because I wouldn't always be able to be there when he has a crisis (damn her for being right)
After about fifteen minutes he stops crying and starts breathing a bit slower “Do you want to tell me what happened?” I ask softly, he hesitates but starts talking “I was just waiting for the bus and this… man, sat next to me, and he- he … looked just like him, like- like the Mage and, he looked directly at my eyes, it made feel so uncomfortable, I tried to ignored him but he kept looking at me and then there was just so many people around, it felt too crowded and I started to loose control so I tried to get back to the library to wait for you but I ended up sitting here out of breath and shaking, so yeah… I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have called you, I knew you had study group, this was no big deal” “Everything that happens to you is a big deal to me, I’m glad you called, my classmates will understand, besides I don’t care about them, I care about you” He just nods but I can tell he feels guilty, I hate that he feels that way about something he barely has control of “I’m done studying for today (I lie), but I left my stuff at the library. Do you want to wait for me while I go get it?” “No, I want to go with you, if that’s ok” He says shyly, like he thinks I’d be embarrassed to be seen with him in front of my classmates. He does look like a hot mess, all puffy red eyes and sweaty forehead but I don’t give a fuck, they can think whatever they want, I’ll take my boyfriend with me, I just gave him the chance to wait in case he didn’t want to be seen.
I take his hand and help him up after I wiped the tears out of his face and combed his bronce curls out of his forehead, he gives me a soft smile and that makes him look a little more like himself.
We make the walk in silence, and when we enter the library all my classmates are still there, Simon says a shy ‘hello’ and grips my hand tight, every eye is on us, and I don’t know if they look surprised by the fact that I have a boyfriend or because said boyfriend looks like a lost puppy right now, I don’t care if it’s the first one but I don’t want anyone looking at Simon like he is some kind of freak (only I can do that)
One of my classmates (Matt, I think) starts talking while I’m collecting all my stuff “Hey, I think I know you!, you always go to my mom’s bakery to buy scones and sweet drinks” Simon instantly smiles, sometimes when he is sad and clingy I tend to forget he is the social one in this relationship “Yeah, I’ve seen you there, the scones are for me and the extremely sweet beverages are usually for Baz, he drinks candy. I’m Simon by the way” “Todd” oh, so he’s not Matt then “How come Basilton has never introduced us to his boyfriend, whom by the way seems way more laid-back than him” “Because he’s cooler than me and will steal all my friends” I say half jokingly and grab his hand “Now we have to go, I’ll send you my part of the project later this evening, goodbye gentleman” They all wave at Simon as he says goodbye.
My flat is a lot closer than his, so we decide to walk there, Fiona is on some kind of vacation in America so Simon will stay the night.
When we get to my place he looks exhausted, he always ends up super tired after a panic attack, and I wonder if it’s like that for everybody
“Go take a nap, we can figure out dinner after you wake up, I’ll be working on some homework on the kitchen table” I lean in and kiss his temple, he looks at me with big blue eyes “can I borrow your grey sweatshirt?” Hi asks hopeful. I own one sweatshirt (with my university’s logo) and Simon adores it, it’s too big for him, the sleeves cover his hands entirely and he says it’s just really confortable but I think he likes it so much because it makes him feel somehow safe because it’s a little too big and because it’s mine (I was tempted to just give it to him but it smells like him after he wears it so I always get it back just so I can have his smell with me, I know, I’m disturbed) “Sure love” He smiles real big and gives me a kiss before running to my room.
After a few minutes I try to continue with the project I was supposed to do with my classmates but I keep hearing Simon trashing in bed, I tried to ignored it for like ten minutes but after eight years of being ultra aware of every single one of his moves it’s something I can’t exactly turn off, besides the vampire hearing doesn’t help, I know he his exhausted but seems unable to fall sleep.
I know he doesn’t want to annoy me asking me to keep him company, but not so secretly I love it when he needs me, it makes me feel safe, useful and loved, it is probably a bad codependent thing but I kind of like it, so I take my computer and go to my room, Simon lifts his head when he hears me, his curls are a mess and he looks extra adorable in my sweatshirt
“Do you mind if I finish my assignment here?” He shakes his head, and rolls to his side of the bed, I sit next to him and he comes close putting his arm around my torso. it takes him less than two minutes to fall asleep.
On the contrary it takes me about two hours to finish my assignment, so I just let Simon sleep next to me the whole time, he barely moves (I knew he was exhausted) and when I’m done, I lie down next to him and put my head in the space between his neck and shoulder and close my eyes for a few seconds. Sometimes it’s hard for me to accept how much I love him but I try to be there for him when he needs me and he knows that’s a my way to show him love instead of just saying it, that just works for us.
it’s almost eight pm, so I shake Simon awake, he gives me a lazy smile that I love and cuddles a little bit closer
“You look a lot better Si” “I feel a lot better, and kinda hungry!” I laugh out loud, because I don’t have to restrain myself, because he is adorable and because he never judges me “Can we order pizza and watch a movie?” “Sure, why don’t you call while I take a shower” “I have a better idea, why do we take a shower and then order pizza” I smile “Sounds like a plan to me”
A few hours later we’re curled up on the couch, Simon is once again wearing my sweatshirt and we are watching the second movie of the night, we are spooning so Simon’s back is against my chest and I have an arm over his stomach, his breathing is slow so is think hi’s fallen sleep but then he rolls on his side so he’s facing me
“Thank you” He says softly “what for?” “for everything, for a villain you turned out to be a softy” “oh, fuck off Snow” I say but it comes out somehow sweetly “But seriously, thank you for been there for me, and taking care of me, thank you for been my high when I’m low, and my rock when I’m scared. I love you Baz” I put my head on his chest just so he doesn’t see my eyes water “I love you too, Simon” I say in a low voice and I mean it.
Some times when I look back at all the horrible things that we had to go through I wish I could tell my younger self that even though there will always be battles to fight and problems to face, things will get better, I wish I could tell myself that I will feel loved, that I will feel safe, that someday I will cry because I feel so overwhelmed by love that I’m not gonna know what to do with myself, my younger self probably won’t believe me, but I think that’s one of the wonderful things about our future, that we don’t even know how got it’s going to get, as long as my future is with Simon, I’m ready for whatever life throws at us.
But right this second with him curled in my arms I feel full, content and complete, and I wouldn’t chance the past because it brought me to this moment, with be boy I love in my arms, and a story to write ahead of us, so I kiss Simon with the silent promise of a charmed life together.
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Unexpected, to say the least. Chapter 2
Warnings: shitty writing, swearing, idk 
Italics are your thoughts
School Uniform:
Pants: Solid colored pants, no sweats, no leggings, no jeans, no holes.
Shirts: Crew neck shirts or higher. Flannels, button ups, sweatshirts, sweaters are allowed but no logo, writing, or brand can be bigger than a post-it note
Other: No hats, can’t wear hoods up, no sunglasses.
December 11, 2018
You woke up to the sound of your alarm going off and the groans of the two boys you slept between. 
“Shit, when did we fall asleep?” you asked groggily.
“You and E passed out at like 1, I finished the movie.” Grayson responded.
You looked over at Ethan and wondered how the fuck he fell back asleep so quickly. You sat up with Ethan still leaning on you and Grayson got up and went to the bathroom. Your sleepiness wore off as you remember what happened after school yesterday. Shit, what the fuck. School’s gonna be hell, at least they won’t be ther-. FUCK, he’s shadowing me. Hopefully, he sleeps through my getting ready.
You shove, the still sleeping, Ethan off of you and go up to your room to get ready. You grab an outfit that followed your school’s dress code which includes your favorite green jeggings and a cute black sweatshirt. Technically, these pants aren’t allowed at school but I love them too much to care. 
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You took a quick shower and had plenty of time left but rushed to leave before Ethan woke up. Fuck it, I’ll just throw my wet hair in a bun. After putting on your make-up you stepped out of the bathroom and ran right into Ethan. 
“Shit, sorry.” You said. Fuck, he’s awake. And ready? How the he-
“Are you ready to go?” Ethan asked cutting off your thoughts.
“You still wanna do this?”
“Hell yeah, I want to meet all your friends and ma-”
“Make my life hell” You finished for him.
“Exactly,”  he laughed.
“You can’t wear that though” you say looking him up and down. He looks really good, too bad my school has a dress code.
“Why? Does it look bad?” He asked. Ethan was wearing grey joggers and a semi-tight black v-neck.
“No, we have a dress code. And you know full well grey sweats equals dick print. I don’t need you bringing anymore attention than you already have. You know you’re gonna have to explain why the fuck you did that yesterday, right?”
“What did he do?” Grayson asked coming up the stairs.
“It’s nothing bro, I’m shadowing her today.” Ethan responded quickly.
You looked at him confused, you guys never kept secrets before.
“E, we were supposed to film today!” Grayson exclaimed clearly annoyed.
“Gray, I can just film my day with y/n/n. And then we can do some more filming here or in town after. Anddd then we can save that video idea for the next one.” Ethan reasoned.
“Ok, as fun as this argument is, we’re gonna be late if we don’t leave now.” You lied, walking downstairs. You weren’t late but you really wanted to get coffee.
“Bye, Gray, everything is all good. Y/n/n, wait up I gotta grab the camera and change” Ethan said as he ran downstairs
“What do I wear?” He asked.
You walked up to his suitcase and picked up a olive hoodie and black pants.
“We can be opposites,” you laughed.
“Bet. I’m wearing it.” He replied.
“I feel like I just played myself,” you responded shaking your head.
“You did.”
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You and Ethan stopped at a local coffee shop. Ethan had pulled out the camera and got some shots of the drive as well as the coffee shop. 
Pointing the camera at you Ethan said, “Hey guys, I know we haven’t seen her in a few years but this is y/n. She grew up with Gray and I and I’m gonna shadow her at her school today.”
“Eth, I’m trying to order.” You turn to the barista and order “I’ll have a medium Kenya, please.”
“Awh, guys y/n is so polite. Also what is a ‘Kenya’?” He asked.
“It’s like wear the coffee bean came from, basically a black coffee.” You answered.
“You drink straight black coffee?” He said surprised
“Yea,” you laugh. “I like my coffee like I like my men, a little bitter.”
He kept that footage in the video. As well as, the rest of the drive. He’s probably filming to avoid talking about yesterday. That headass.
Getting to school was insane. All those girls were looking for you, not even expecting Ethan or Grayson to be there. When they found out Ethan was there, all hell broke loose. The principle had to make an announcement saying that if anyone bothered him or made a big scene they would be suspended and their permanent record would be stained. After that, everything calmed down.
“Okay, Eth, I’ve got four classes today. We do a block schedule so each class is an hour and a half.”
“Damn, those are so long. I do not miss going to school.”
“Yea, well shadowing is for perspective students so don’t say that in front of the wrong people.” You say hushing him.
Your first class of the day was World Religions. Since you went to a private school this class was allowed. Mr. Blink was the teacher. His first name was Sean and everyone called him sweaty Sean behind his back. The man sweat more than anyone you’ve ever met. Mr. Blink kept the students desks in a semi circle with two rows and the desks were never evenly spread out.
“Miss y/l/n, care to introduce your friend here?” Mr Blink asked.
“Uh, yea, this is Ethan. He’s kind of slow so b- ow!” You laughed as you were interrupted by Ethan hitting your leg.
“I am that not slow.” He said laughing with you and your classmates.
“Okay, that’s enough everyone” Sweaty Sean announced and started teaching.
“Y/n/n, I’m gonna get you back for that.” He whispered into you ear and sending shivers down your spine. You noticed how close his desk was to yours and your arms barely touched as he leaned to one side of the desk. You did not pay attention for the rest of class. This was half because of how boring to class was but also because Ethan kept poking you and annoying you.
The finally rang.
“Where to now, Miss y/l/n?” Ethan asked mimicking Mr. Blink’s voice.
“We have a 20 minute break, dickhead.” You answered laughing.
“Come on, I guess you can meet my friends.”
You brought Ethan up to four of you friends, Mason, Nick, Ben, and Emily.
“Hey guys, this is Ethan.”
“Yo, I’m Mason”
“I’m Ben”
“Hi, I’m Emily.” She turned to you and said “I thought you were bluffing when you said you knew the Dolan Twins.”
Ethan laughed.
“And, Eth, this is Nick.” You tell him.
They nod at one another and Ethan starts talking with Emily, Mason, and Ben. You walk over to Nick.
“Hey, y/n/n.” You can see Ethan tense at your nickname behind Nick.
“Hey, did you do the English homework for next block?”
“Shit, no. What’d we have to do?”
“Nickkkk,” you laughed, “We had to read Act III Scene i of the Tempest.”
You noticed Ethan paying attention to your coversation again. Is he jealous? No way, he just met your friends he’s probably uncomfortable. Yea, that’s it. If you’re honest though, you definitely had a crush on Nick.
The warning bell rings, seven minutes until class starts.
“Y/n/n,” Ethan tenses again at Nick using that name “wanna give me a quick summary while we walk?”
“Yea, of course.” You answer. “Eth, we gotta go to class.”
“Coming babes,” he winks at you.
What the fuck? This shit again. He’s trying to fuck up my shot with Nick. Dickhead.
“Ok,” you say walking closer to Nick than you are to Ethan, “basically the act is Ferdinand professing his love to Miranda even though they just met.”
“Shit, that’s insane.” Nick comments.
“I believe it is all just your willing suspension of disbelief since the play only occurs in one day. Anyway, then Miranda is like I love you too. Even if you cheated on my I’d still love you and all this crazy shit. And then Prospero is like creeping on them and watching this happen. He’s happy though because it’s part of his plan but also he has to disprove of it to Miranda so that she wants to do it more...” you explain to whole scene and finish as the three of you walk into Ms. VanHout’s class.
“Thanks y/n/n,” Ethan tenses up again. “You’re the best.” Nick finishes as he hugs you.
“Anytime.” And then you wink at Ethan.
Ms. VanHout is a forty something divorcee and she is pretty chill. Her classroom is set up in rows. You sit in the middle row three desks from the front. Ethan sits behind you since the kid who usually sits there is sick and Nick sits next to you. The whole class you sit facing Nick, in order to talk to both him and Ethan.
“Y/n, wanna tell the class your friends name?” Ms. VanHout asked.
“Sur-“ you were interrupted by Ethan saying
“I can introduce myself. Last block didn’t go so well.” A few kids that were in your second block chuckled and Ethan continued
“I’m Ethan and I’m from LA. I am a YouTuber and i have a channel with my twin brother. Ms. VanHout, would you mind if I filmed some of your class?”
“Oh, wow. Sure Ethan. Today we are going to have people act out the scene we read for homework.” Ms. VanHout answered excitedly.
“Y/n would you mind being Miranda?” Ms. VanHout always called on you. This probably had to do with the fact that even though you had so much anxiety you could never say no. To anything. The amount of times that you fell into a relationship with someone you weren’t even into was wayyy too high.
“Sure.” You responded.
“Ms. VanHout, would you mind if I played Ferdinand? I read the material late last night with y/n/n.” Ethan volunteers, winking at you.
That fucker is literally gonna get me killed. All these girls are still obsessed with him. All he does is focus on me. I have a chance with Nick not with him can’t he just let me shoot my shot.
“That’s wonderful, of course Ethan.” Ms. VanHout says.
The other parts are given away to people you don’t talk to and Ethan sets up the camera to film you the scene and everyone goes to the front.
“...And now farewell Till half hour hence” you recite
“A thousand thousand” Ethan replies leaning in and putting his hand under your jaw. “Ready for another dose of hell” he whispers as he kisses you and then turns to exeunt.
“Ethan, was it? That was not a part of the scene and frankly not very appropriate.” Ms. VanHout states.
“Oh, oh it’s totally okay Ms. VanHout. I’ve known Ethan forever and frankly he is a mediocre kisser.” You reply in an attempt to get under Ethan’s skin.
The bell rings just before Ethan has a chance to retort.
“Come on Eth, it’s time for lunch.” You smirk saying “Nick, Ethan and I were going to go out to get lunch, care to join?”
“Oh, I totally want to, y/n/n, but I don’t have an off block so I don’t have time.” Nick replies and again you notice Ethan is no longer amused in the slightest.
“Okay, see you later”
Ethan doesn’t say a word on the way to the car or on the way to the downtown restaurant you both were meeting Grayson at. It was almost scary.
When you arrived, you and Ethan got out of the car and were walking through an alley to get to the restaurant. You got a text from Grayson saying he’d be ten minutes late and finally breaking the silence you started telling Ethan “Hey, Gray is going to be late, he just tex-“ you were cut off as Ethan pushed your back against the wall and placed one hand on the wall beside your head and the other on your hipbone. “Ethan, are you good?” You barely whisper.
“I just wish you wouldn’t have talked to Nick so much and the way he called you y/n/n pissed me off. All this time I was so excited to come to your school and tease you and hang out with you but he was all over you. It just made me so angry and I didn’t know could be this angry about a -“
It was your turn to cut him off you leaned in and cut him off with a deep kiss. His hand moved to you jaw and the other gripped harder on your hip. Your kiss lasted at least three minutes only to end with:
“Y/n! Ethan!”
You both turn to see Grayson standing at the alley’s entrance, mouth wide open.
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