#n originally drew the sketch like. a month ago once i started to get a hang of drawing him

[kurokmask]

literally cant stop drawing his miserable irish ass. hes such a cartoon character to me. one day ill actually draw a real illustration for this show but for now you get endless stylization experiements

[sevlgi]

patient

requested: yes

group: mamamoo

pairing: hwasa x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contents: tattoo artist!hwasa, flustered!reader [15/33]

warnings: none

synopsis: It’s hard for you to be patient about your next tattoo session when your artist is so damn gorgeous.

a/n: um??? I love tattoo aus???? also don’t come at me for the name, I’m not creative

word count: 1.9k

“Elegant Chaos.”

You test the name out on your tongue, staring up at the slightly grimy neon sign of the shop. The entire front is one-way glass, so all you can see is your own reflection and the ones of the people bustling around you.

Before you can make up a decision to open the door to the store or not, someone else does; a pretty brunette woman steps out and smiles at you, crazy beautiful with full lips and crescent-eyes. “Hi. Can I help you?”

“Uh, yeah.” You show her the printed-out address your friend sent you and step a bit closer. “Is this a tattoo shop? I searched the address up but nothing resulted, I was referred by a friend.”

She barely takes a glance at the address before flashing another bright grin. “Oh, yep! This is our tattoo shop, we opened a couple months ago. It’s weird that we’re still not showing up, but oh, well. Want to come in?”

You barely register her quick words but step into the shop after her, the smell of rubbing alcohol, paper, and perfume vaguely stinging your nose. “I’m Solar, the receptionist,” she introduces, walking behind what you presume to be her desk. Out front, some teenagers talk quietly, a tall, dark-haired boy with a sleeve sipping at a banana milk.

“Cool. Uh, I’m Y/N. I don’t have an appointment, is that okay?”

Solar nods, tapping at her phone. “Sure. Jungkook over there is just waiting for Byul to finish her other client, and Wheein is prepping to pierce the kids. Hwasa’s our best artist, anyway, does that sound good?”

Her question startles you from staring at the intricate sketches taped all over the walls, the same 3 signatures stamped everywhere. “What?”

She laughs, though it’s not rude. “We have one artist left, Hwasa, but since you’re referred, you probably don’t have someone in mind, right? You can go to see her now, she’s free.”

“Great. Do I just...?” At Solar’s nod, you walk past her and into the back. The studio’s quite small, to be honest; there are 4 stations, two of them occupied. One of them, who you guess is Byul, is tattooing an elderly man, her sleeves rolled up to reveal the art on her bicep. 

The second, probably Wheein, is wiping down her tools, and she’s the first to notice you. “Hi!” she grins, turning the music blasting from the radio down with her ungloved hand. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah. Solar mentioned that I should come find Hwasa,” you explain, eyes widening at the complicated art being tattooed on the elderly man. “Are you...?”

“No, I’m Wheein.” Ah, so you were right. “This is Byul, she’s a bit preoccupied,” Wheein smiles, dimples poking into her cheeks. “I’ll get Hye- sorry, Hwasa for you.”

She hurries out to the back, and you can hear talking through the open door, before she comes back, the woman you presume to be Hwasa behind her.

Instantly, you’re starstruck; she’s stunning in a way that’s completely unique, long dark hair and tanned skin contrasting beautifully. The only makeup she wears is a bold red lipstick, her tank top showing the delicate tattoos she has. “Hey, I’m Hwasa,” she greets, sticking her hand out. Her nails are long, too.

“Y/N.” You accept the handshake, trying not to stare. “Uh, Solar said you were free for a consultation?”

“Yeah.” She sits at one of the free stations, clearing the things scattered on the table. “So, what’re you looking for? Do you already have a design chosen or am I freehanding?”

You fumble in your bag for a piece of paper, sliding it over to Hwasa. “Um, this is just something my friend drew up for me. I want it pretty small, on my forearm.”

The dark-haired woman shrugs, unfolding the paper. “I could do that. Is this your first tattoo?”

Nodding, you watch as Hwasa taps her long, red-painted nails on the desk. “Okay. Is this part of a sleeve or by itself?”

“Uh, how long would each one take?” To be honest, you have no idea why you said that; you didn’t consider a sleeve at all, though you considered multiple tattoos or a large one. There’s just something about the other woman that makes it impossible for you to think.

She considers the question before answering, “Depends on the size and how many small ones you want to work in for the sleeve, but I’d recommend a separate session for each small square, so maybe 8 or 10. I’ll be done with this in less than 30 minutes, though, if it’s just the one.”

To be honest, the only thing causing you to consider a sleeve is getting to see Hwasa again, and you curse your own attraction to her when you blurt, “Maybe a sleeve? I have to think about the other ones I want to work in, though.”

“Okay. I can just do the one today, and we can schedule another day for you to come in and design the whole thing,” she offers, picking the sketch up. “I’ll go make this into a stencil, then.”

“Sure.”

When she takes the sketch and walks to the back room, you slump down in the chair and pivot to look at the others. You quickly realize how long you were talking with Hwasa; Byul is already working on the coconut-haired boy, and Wheein is already done with the teenagers.

She seems to be the outgoing type, and waves at you while sanitizing her needles and packing her kit up again. “So, how did it go? Are you going to start today?”

“I am, yep. You’re already done with the kids?”

Wheein nods, placing the studs back into their cases. “Yep. They just wanted more lobe piercings, it’s really easy. I’m a tattoo artist, too, but I think the kids like me more. Except for Jungkook over here, they think Byul’s intimidating.”

“I’m not!” the other woman protests, hands still steady as she works on the boy. Her voice is deeper than you’d expect. “You literally call me a hamster.”

Flapping a hand, Wheein flashes you her dimples again. “So, what do you think of Hwasa?”

“Huh?” you blink, brain basically short-circuiting. “Uh, she’s a good artist? I saw some of her sketches, yours too; you’re all really talented.”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean. Wait, you’re not straight, are you?” she narrows her eyes at you, scanning you from head to toe. “Maybe my sense is broken, I didn’t peg you for a...”

“I’m not. Straight. I’m a lesbian.” Your cheeks burn to say it aloud, though nobody really reacts, not even Jungkook. “Are you?”

Wheein shrugs, “I mean, I’m attracted to women. All 4 of us are- Hyejin, Byul, Yongsun. Solar, to you. And we make sure everyone who comes in is accepting, we won’t serve bigots.”

For whatever reason, you’re almost relieved to hear that Hwasa’s also attracted to women in some sense, even though it doesn’t necessarily mean that she’s attracted to you. “Oh. That’s cool.”

“Yeah. So, is it just one tattoo or a sleeve?” Her knowing smile puts you off a bit; how did she figure it out? “A lot of girls who come in here change their original idea because of Hyejin-ah. You’re obviously attracted to her, to, so it’s no surprise.”

“Is it really that obvious?” you groan, surprising yourself with how open you’re being about it. “Do you think she knows?”

“Probably,” Wheein giggles, nodding when Solar pokes her head in the studio to tell her something. “Anyway. I’ve got to go, good luck!”

She waves as she leaves, the only noise left in the studio being the quiet music and Jungkook’s quiet talking. He seems just as awkward as you are, lifting his free hand in a half wave.

You’re saved by Hwasa returning with a stencil. “Here. Does that look good?”

She’s modified the original design just the tiniest bit, making the lines a little bit darker and the shading simpler, and it looks... “Perfect.” You grin, a weight on your chest lifted by your conversation with Wheein. “Should we start?”

“Sure.” She brings you over to one of the actual tattoo stations, the seat already smelling sanitized. You can barely listen as she explains what the process will be like- cleaning, the actual tattooing, pain; you finally come to when she asks, “Are you ready?”

“I... yeah. I am.”

It’s quiet until the buzzing of the tattoo gun brings you to life, the tiniest bit of fear sour on your tongue. Hwasa looks concentrated as she peels the stencil off, not exactly reassuring, either. “So. Is there a meaning behind this?”

“Uh, not really. Are there meanings behind yours?” You gasp when the needle first touches your skin, the cold wipe taking off excess ink.

“I have some matching tattoos with Wheein,” Hwasa explains, smiling at the mention of the other girl. “Uh, one is Maria, my Christian name. Wheein has more, but all of us have some kind of meaning behind ours. It’s not bad to have no meaning, though.”

You wince as she continues with the linework, slowly getting used to the pain. “Are you and Wheein...”

She looks up, raising an eyebrow. “Together? No, we’re best friends. I haven’t been with someone in a few years.”

“What’s stopping you?”

Hwasa laughs, wiping your arm once again. “Nothing, I guess. I’m just patient enough to wait for the right person.”

“Patient. Right.”

Conversation flows smoothly, mostly light topics. You learn each other’s ages, and you’re told to call Hwasa ‘Hyejin’ instead. You learn when she got her first tattoo, and when she learned to tattoo others. The more you talk, the more drawn in you are, fascinated by her every word.

The half an hour is over far too fast. “Done,” she announces, smiling as she turns off her gun. “Take a look.”

It looks gorgeous, as expected, though Hwasa plays off your barrage of compliments. “Uh, should I pay now?”

She shrugs, placing saran wrap over your arm. “We’ll go talk with Solar about that, she’s better with pricing than I am. But it probably won’t be much.”

“What? Why?” you frown, examining the tattoo. Usually, discounts only happen when something goes wrong, or you have a coupon. You’re pretty sure neither of those things apply.

Hwasa pauses, turning to send you a small smirk. “Well, the cute ones usually pay less.”

Your heart practically stops, though you force yourself to walk to the front with her. “Besides, you’re probably coming back again soon, right?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah. I think so. When will that be? The next session, I mean.”

She frowns, tapping at the tablet Solar hands her. “You can come in as soon as you’re free to design it, if you want, but you have to wait a bit for the next session, especially if you’re doing the things close together. If you want, I can give you my number.”

At your stricken expression, Hwasa’s lips curve into a knowing smile. “So you can send me ideas, for the sleeve.”

“Ah, of course.” Your cheeks burn as you take out your cash, counting out a surprisingly small amount. “That sounds good. I guess I’ll just have to be patient, then.”

“I guess so. Call me, Y/N,” she smiles, handing your phone back with a new contact in.

Being patient is going to be so damn hard. 

[miraculousandbts]

Jungkook | Best Fansign Ever

Summary: You decide to surprise your boyfriend by going to his Fansign.

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None

You were ready. Wallet? Check. Phone? Check. Purse? Check. Album? Check. Fansign ticket? Check. You were being a little too serious about this.

No, you weren't some fan who finally got the chance to go to a Fansign. You were dating one of the boys. Who? The youngest of them. It all started two years ago when you bumped into a stranger on the road. It weird enough that he was wearing a full-sleeved shirt on such a hot day, but on top of that, he had a mask, a pair of sunglasses, and a bucket hat. And a few tufts of blue hair were visible.

'Blue hair? Weird. He must be a die-heart fan of k-pop...or he just really wanted to dye his hair? Why do I care anyway? People can do what they want to.' you thought, as you bent down to pick up the papers which had fallen down from your hand. You had been sitting in a café where you had suddenly gotten an idea for a new comic, and you just had to scribble it down— more like roughly draw it down— on the small pieces of paper you carried around with you for such occasions.

He bent down as the same time as you with the same intentions as you, and picked up the other papers. "You drew these?" He just couldn't help asking, after seeing your rough sketches. They were pretty as it is, and he could imagine how beautiful they would be with touch ups.

"Uh, yeah." You awkwardly replied. "These are good." He didn't know what else to say. "Thank you." You gave him a grin. "I'll just go."

He moved past you, but something pulled you both back. You glanced at your wrist, and saw that a thread from his shirt was stuck in your bracelet. "Oh, sorry." You apologised and proceeded to try to take the thread out. Keyword: tried. He came closer so it would be easy, but you just couldn't figure out what to do. You didn't notice him move his hand to help you.

Instead, you thought how it was a thread, so you could just snap it. Without thinking twice, you wrapped your finger around the length of the thread and broke it. And that's when you noticed his hand mid air, frozen. He clearly wasn't expecting you to do so, that much you could tell, but because his whole face was covered up, you couldn't see his expression.

It took him a couple of seconds to register what happened. Then he gently placed his fingers on your bracelet and untangled the now cut-off thread from it, throwing it away after he was done.

"Thanks...?" You trailed off, indicating to him that you wanted to know his name. Without thinking, he said, "Jeon Jungkook." And then he proceeded to freak out. "No, no, no. Jung Jungkook, Jung Jungkook. Shit, hyung will kill me." He muttered the last part under his breath.

All of this was enough for you to figure out he was Jungkook from BTS. You wouldn't call yourself a die-heart fan, but you liked their music, and respected them a lot. He let out a noise sounding similar to 'nnnng' (I'm not good with describing noises...), and flattened his bucket hat against the sides of his face in frustration. At this point, he could only hope you weren't a fan or a netizen who would be able to recognise him.

His very noisy way of showing his exasperation was attracting a lot of attention. You subtly glanced around, and made a decision. You grabbed his wrist unintentionally hard, and pulled him with you to your house which was a five minute walk away. All this time, he kept following you without showing any signs of resisting. You only left his hand as you searched for your keys in your bag, and pulled him in after you opened the door.

After making sure the door was securely locked, you threw yourself on the sofa. Your one bedroom apartment wasn't anything extravagant, but it was yours. It was cozy, pretty, warm in winters, and cool in summer. And you had a balcony, as an added bonus. You glanced at the frozen boy still standing near the door, and patted the space next to you, where he timidly came and sat down.

"You can take off all this stuff now. I can only imagine how much you're sweating." You moved your arm gesturing to his head. He cautiously took off the mask, the sunglasses, and the hat. "I don't bite. Chill." You raised an amused eyebrow in his direction when you saw how hesitant he was.

"S-sorry. Why did you bring me here?"

"Well, you were freaking out cuz you told me your real name, and it was noisy enough to attract attention. Now, we wouldn't want paparazzi to trample either of us, would we?

"No." He silently agreed. "Thank you." He added as an afterthought. "It's okay. Make yourself at home. You hungry?" You finally got motivation enough to get up and do something. He nodded while pink dusted his cheeks.

'Adorable' was the only thing you could think in that moment. You changed and made both of you a little snack. To repay your kindness, he gave you his number and left. And well, the rest of it is history.

*****

You reached the event venue, and went in. It was easy for you to mingle in the crowd; you had to make sure you were not visible to Jungkook.

Sitting on the farthest chair from the main table as possible, you kept your head low, and glanced up every once in a while. Jungkook was the first person sitting there, which coincidentally just helped your plan. "Hey, you're y/n, right?" You turned your head towards the origin of the sound.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm y/n."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Just wanted to surprise Kookie. He came back from the tour, but didn't go to Seoul, so I just thought I'd come here."

"Aw, that's so sweet of you!"

You lightly chuckled at her awing. You both made small talk while your chance came. She went ahead of you after some time of chatting.

You got up, still making sure not a single boy could see you. It was easy, considering there were so many fans there. You saw the girl you were talking to earlier come your way and raised your eyebrows. She silently came and stood in front of you, showing you her back, muttering one word. "Cover." You could practically hear the wink in her voice.

You smiled to yourself and whispered a grateful thanks.

It was finally your turn. When you sat down in front of Jungkook, he was looking down reading something, smiling at the book, while in his hand he held a cute rabbit plushie. 'Of course they'd give Kookie a bunny plushie.' you subconsciously smiled at the thought.

He looked up, and his eyes widened, while his jaw dropped. He was definitely not expecting that. Seriously.

"Hello, Jungkook oppa."

His expression went from shocked to deadpan in less than a fraction of a second. "Seriously? We see each other for the first time in months and that's what you call me?" He raised his eyebrows. "Why are you getting mad at me, oppa," you pouted. "I just wanted to get this album I bought some time ago signed."

He sighed and played along. He knew you, inside out. Which meant he also knew that you wouldn't acknowledge him as your boyfriend as long as he didn't play along. He took the album and smiled a small smile while signing it. He had missed you. You and your super annoying but kinda cute antics. He finished signing it, and passed it to Taehyung and then leaned forward a little.

"So, miss y/n, how have you been?" He did his cute lil head tilt and almost melted your heart.

"I've been good, thanks bun bun."

You had never seen him smile so big. He got up and so did you, attracting almost everyone's attention. The boys and the fans started recognising you, and cheered as you both moved towards each other for a big tight hug. "I missed you." He sighed. "I missed you too, Kook."

You pecked his lips and heard the members making sounds of disgust, which, by the way, only made both of you grin harder. You looked towards the crowd and saw that girl again, grinning and giving you a thumbs up. She winked as you gave her a slight grateful nod.

The rest of your day was spent with him and the other boys, enjoying the warmth you got when you were with your boyfriend and your closest friends.

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Imagine # 687

1,834 - Words

Gif NOT mine. (Found on Pinterest.)

If this gif is yours please let me know, so I can give you credit.

Gif credit goes to - Unknown.

Year posted - 2020

Warnings - A little swearing.

Notes - None

----

"I'm telling you Charlie you're going to love her." Phil gushed for the millionth time. "So you say." Charlie muttered still doodling in his sketch book, within the prisons art room. "She's a brilliant artist, a local celebrity really." Phil smiled to himself, before his eyes shot to the opening door of the room. "Phil." (Y/n) smiled at the man awaiting her at the bottom of the stairs, her heels clicking noisily as she descended said stairs. "(Y/n) its so lovely to see you." Phil chirped while pulling her into a friendly hug. "I was looking over those drawings you sent me." (Y/n) grinned from ear to ear. "I can't wait to meet the man behind the pen." She added before handing the drawings back to Phil. "Of course of course, he's right here. Charlie mate this is (Y/n)." Phil ushered Charlie over who was sitting quietly observing the two. "We've been waiting here for a little while now, eager for your arrival." Phil added as Charlie approached. "So you're Charlie Bronson? I've heard so much about you, I must say you are a man of reputation." (Y/n) mused while shaking his hand. "Yeah that's me." Charlie sighed under his breath, sounding almost bored. "I've looked over some of your work, and its quite charming really." (Y/n) said as she pointed to the drawings in Phil's hands. "Your style actually reminds me of an uncle of mine, from my father's side. Ironically enough he also spent some time in prison years ago." She continued, her complements fueling Charlie's ego. "Every year I come here in search of an apprentice, sometimes they remain my apprentice for a few years, like my last apprentice did. Sadly however he got on the wrong side of a local here, and got himself killed." (Y/n) wet her lips allowing Charlie a moment to process her words. "Phil here suggested that I take you under my wing, if you're interested of course." She smiled softly. "I don't think the Gov will allow me the privilege." Charlie pointed out, knowing the man hatted him. "Well just between us, he's had quite the crush on me since I started doing this whole apprenticeship thing. I'm confident I can convince him by simply batting my lashes at him." (Y/n) winked with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Is that so?" Charlie smirked a little, finding her rather amusing. "But only if you're interested of course, I'd rather avoid the man if I can. Makes my skin crawl that one." She frowned a little in disgust at the thought of the man. "Alright, what dose this internship entail?" Charlie asked while leaning against the table to his right. "Well first off, I'll be teaching you how to hone your skills as an artist, and help you to find your true potential, to the best of my abilities. I would be visiting you daily, for however long I see fit. Maybe even if you get yourself in trouble, seeings how the old creep can't seem to say no to me." She shrugged a little at the last comment. "Alright I'm in." Charlie nodded his head once, before going back to his original seat. "Okay I'll go see what I can do about the Governor." (Y/n) waved goodbye to Phil before leaving the room. "See I knew you'd like her." Phil smiled while Charlie simply grunted at him.

----

The following day Charlie sat across from the Governor, in his little office. "I don't know how, but you've caught the interest of Miss (Y/n) (Y/l/n), and she wishes to take you as her new apprentice. I have granted her permission to due so, but I'm warning you now Charlie, if you so much as hurt a hair on her head, I'll have you locked in solitary for the rest of your stay here." The older man hissed, his threat only making Charlie smile. "What kind ov a man do you think I am, eh?" Charlie taunted, making the Governor roll his eyes. "I know exactly what kind of a man you are Charlie." The Governor sighed before waving him off. "She'll be here later today, and every day after until you mess up." He added as Charlie was being escorted out of his office.

----

(Y/n) did in fact come back, just a few hours later. Meeting with Charlie in his cell of all places. "Right let's get to it yeah?" She shrugged her bag off of her shoulder and placed it on the foot of his bed, where she rummaged through it a moment later. "Ah here we are." She smiled as she pulled out the new materials she had brought with her. "These are for you." She handed them to Charlie, who slowly looked over everything she gave him. "I'd like to watch you draw if that's alright, I want to observe your process, and techniques." (Y/n) explained, smiling when Charlie sat at his desk. "You can watch, just try not to talk to much. Phil gets real annoying after awhile." Charlie glanced up at her as he began settling everything up. "Of course." She bowed her head a little, respecting his wishes.

As Charlie drew (Y/n) peered over his shoulder, fascinated by his technique, and rather pleased with his natural skills. "How's that?" Charlie leaned back in his chair, looking up at (Y/n), who grinned at him. "It's fantastic, tell me what does this mean to you?" She asked while leaning in a little closer observing the finer details, unknowingly pressing her breasts against Charlie's shoulder. "What?" He exhaled through his nose noisily, almost stunned by the sudden contact. "What does this all mean to you? If anything at all." (Y/n) asked while pulling away so she could properly look at his face. "It's just some of the things I felt while at the asylum." He cleared his throat, having calmed his nerves when she pulled away from him. "Interesting." (Y/n) hummed before going back to her bag. "I want you to try something for me Charlie." She muttered as she unfolded the large piece of canvas paper, she had pulled from her bag. "I want you to try copying this drawing, but in your own style." She explained before using her chewing gum to stick the paper to the wall above his desk. "What is it exactly?" He asked eyeing the strange looking drawing before him. "I'm not entirely sure yet, I drew this yesterday after I left here, I got some inspiration." She tilted her head a little, looking at her work. "Get some inspiration from me did ya?" Charlie teased. "I did actually, while I drew this I replayed our conversation together, remembering the way you held yourself, your facial expressions, mood, all of it really... And this is the product of that." (Y/n) explained, once again fueling Charlie's ego. "Is it a good thing or a bad thing?" He asked while looking from her to the drawing, finding it almost hypnotizing. "Personally I believe it's a good thing, but I guess like most art, it is what you make of it as the viewer." She looked back to Charlie, who seemed pretty pleased with her answer. "Right, well this might take a little while." He stated while scooting his chair in. "Take however long you need." (Y/n) hummed softly while clasping her hands behind her back. "You're welcome to sit on the bed if ya like." Charlie added before picking up his pencil. "Thank you Charlie." (Y/n) smiled before delicately setting on the edge of the mattress, trying to avoid making to much noise.

----

For a little over two months now, (Y/n) has been working with Charlie. And it wasn't until today that he acted out, and got himself into trouble. But as she promised she convinced the Governor to allow her to still visit him. While Charlie sat in his cell, blood oozing a little from the gash on his head, he counted the seconds it took for (Y/n) to reach his cell. Her heels giving her away the second she stepped into his cellblock, clicking away as she approached. "I don't know why you bother." The guard opening Charlie's cell hissed at (Y/n), who in turn held her head up a little higher while glaring at the overweight man. "That's none of your concern." She spat back as the door opened, making Charlie smile the best he could with the muzzle they put on him.

"Christ." She muttered under her breath in surprise, completely stunned at the sight of him all bloody and bound. "Aye love." Charlie murmured the best he could, both blood and drool running down his chin. "What did they do to you?" She frowned before softly sitting on her knees across from him on the floor. "You'll dirty your dress." He almost frowned at the sight of his blood on the floor, as it began seeping into the soft fabric of her skirt. "I don't give a damn about the dress." She waved his comment off, more worried about him. "Besides you're more important to me than some old dress." She leaned forward dropping her voice so only Charlie could hear her. "I'm going to remove these wretched things, but you must remain quiet, otherwise we'll both be in trouble." She waited for Charlie to nod his head in agreement before reaching for the strap on the muzzle. "There." She sighed softly as she pulled the muzzle away from his face. "Alright could you turn for me?" She asked planning on removing the straight jacket. "Nah leave it I'm alright, besides if someone decides to barge in 'ere, you won't get in as much trouble for removing just the muzzle." Charlie pointed out making (Y/n) bite her lip softly. "Good point." She nodded her head agreeing with him.

"So tell me Charlie, what happened?" (Y/n) asked as she removed a handkerchief from her handbag, slowly wiping away some of the blood from his face. "One of the guards took away that drawing you hung on my wall, the one you gave me the first day we worked together, cunt tore it up while talking ill about you. I wasn't gonna stand for it, so I beat the fucker bloody." Charlie observed her face, watching her closely as she frowned at his words. "Those bastards can't just let things be can they, always gotta rattle the cage, and punish those that bite back." She murmured while cleaning the last of the blood away the best she could. "Don't worry. You ever get outta here, I'll give you as many drawings as you'd like, then no one can ever take them from you again." (Y/n) smiled softly at Charlie, who began mulling over her words. Did he want to get out? Or did he still wish to stay?

[omgrachwrites]

Somewhere Across The Ocean (Tom Holland)

Pairing: Tom Holland x Original Character

Summary: Cassidy Porter has always had a hard time being herself, especially in front of her friends. She can truly be herself when she starts online talking with a sweet boy, Tom. But when he unknowingly walks into her real life it’s his heart that might be getting broken. Author!Tom, college au

Warnings: fluff, a little bit of angst, slow burn

Words: 1877

A/N: So sorry for how long I took to put this up, also I was thinking that I’m going to alternate chapters each week so next week it’ll be the next part of my librarian Bucky series, I promise that the extra gif is relevant, lol! I hope you guys enjoy and please let me know what you think! I love you all very much! xxx

Part Three

Wednesday 13th September 2018

Butterflies swarmed in Cass’s stomach as she watched Tom approach the coffee counter, he came in every Thursday and Friday since Harrison had started a couple of months ago. Seeing Tom was one of the things in particular she liked about working in the coffee shop, he was a great guy and a great friend. It really perked her up to see him, she’d been exhausted since school had started up, she didn’t realise how emotionally – and financially – draining being a college student was.

She hadn’t been in the greatest of moods due to how tired she was and also, the online Tom that she was speaking to also hadn’t emailed her since he told her that he was going on a date. It wasn’t like she was jealous or something, she didn’t even know him but she missed him. Tom’s baby brown eyes were red and bloodshot with exhaustion though his bright beaming smile never once faltered.

“Tom, hey,” Cass grinned as he got to the counter, a small snide voice in the back of her head told her that he was only here to see Haz, “Harrison’s in the stockroom, let me go and get him for you,” she blurted out quickly and made to walk off before Tom stopped her by holding his hand up.

“Actually Cass, I came here to see you, I can see Haz any old time. I live with the guy,” he blushed a bright pink, thankfully Cass was already wearing makeup on the apples of her cheeks so that hid her blush pretty well, “could I just get my usual please?” Tom chuckled, breaking the slightly embarrassed silence and Cass quickly snapped herself out of it.

“O-of course,” she muttered quietly, ducking her head slightly as she got to brewing his drink, “so, how are things with you Tom?”

Tom grimaced before running his long fingers through his thick gorgeous curls before he replied in a monotone voice, “I had this date the other night, it was a complete disaster.”

Cass had at least expected a small bubble of jealousy to arise in the pit of her stomach at the mention of his date but she felt nothing. Tom was completely gorgeous but she’d turn away from him if she knew that he was interested in her, that was just her way. She giggled as she traced a winky face into Tom’s drink with the steamed milk, every time that he came in she drew a different pattern for him.

“Why was it so bad if you don’t mind me asking?” Cass frowned as she handed over Tom’s drink and took his money.

Tom sighed, “well, I met the girl in my lectures and she must have seen me with Harrison because on the date she was always talking about him and asking about him, it’s okay though.”

“That sucks Tom,” Cass pouted and he shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, I wanted to ask you something,” he paused, continuing when Cass gave him the nod, “I know that we’re doing completely different majors but I was um actually wondering if you’d like to study sometime? I could definitely use someone to study with even if its not the same subject,” he chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Cass giggled at his flushed cheeks and decided to play with him a little, she was pretending to think about it. It was obvious that he was waiting with bated breath.

“Of course Tom!” she grinned at him when he let out a sigh of relief, “but can we do it in the library? I definitely don’t have any motivation when I’m studying in the comfort of my own home, how does later on sound? I finish at half two.”

“Later on sounds perfect Cass, I’ll meet you at the library then,” he beamed and made to leave before Cass called him back.

“I’ll study with you if you let me take you to a frat party, I haven’t seen you at the parties that I’ve been to and I’ve been to a lot of parties,” Cass giggled as Tom let out a dramatic sigh.

“Fine, fine if I absolutely must,” he held up his hands in mock defense before he winked and finger gunned at her, leaving the coffee shop.

When Cass finished work she sent off a text to Tom telling him that she was going to get changed and drop her stuff off at her apartment. She walked into the building and shot the moody guy on reception a winning smile although he stayed stone faced, his lips didn’t even twitch the tiniest bit.

“Don’t look so happy Porter, your roommate has just moved in, you haven’t got the apartment all to yourself anymore,” ‘well, obviously,’ Cass felt like saying but she refrained and gave him a tight smile instead as she took off up the stairs and unlocked the apartment door.

A beautiful young woman was perched on the edge of the sofa, scrolling through her phone, she looked up when the door opened and her chocolate brown eyes softened with a smile and she stood up, holding her hand out.

“Hey, I’m Zendaya, sorry that I’m a little late,” she giggled, her laugh was contagious, it made Cass smile as she shook Zendaya’s hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Cassidy but you can call me Cass.”

“It’s great to meet you too Cass, I’m actually headed out to get some lunch if you would like to join me?” she smiled.

“I’d love to, I really would but I promised my friend that I’d study with him, can we take a raincheck?”

“Of course,” Zendaya beamed, “have a good day and good luck with the studying.”

“Thank you,” Cass smiled, “you have a good day as well.” Zendaya grinned at her before she left the apartment and Cass got ready, pulling her hair out of it’s messy bun. She also sent an email to the online Tom just to ask how he was though she wasn’t expecting a reply.

------------------------------------------------------------

Tom grinned as he saw Cass getting closer to him, she looked so pretty with her hair loose and wavy with her sunglasses perched ontop of her head, wearing a sea foam green dress.

“Hey, you look great,” he beamed as he pulled her into a hug, she smelled amazing, like cherries and vanilla.

“Thank you! So do you,” she giggled and they walked into the campus library together.

Tom at once saw that it was busy, busier than it should have been on a Wednesday afternoon when nothing was going on. 90% of the crowd were college girls and Tom even thought that he saw a couple of Professors that conducted lectures at the university. Tom glanced at Cass to ask her what was going on but he cut himself off when he saw that she was biting her lip, her cheeks were flushed and her pretty hazel eyes were glazed over.

“Oh yeah, I forgot,” she said in a breathy voice that suggested that she didn’t forget at all.

“What did you forget?” Tom inquired, deciding to play along. Cass looked at him like she was only just remembering that he was there and perhaps she did only just remember.

“There’s this guy called Chris who works here every Monday and Wednesday and he’s one of the most attractive guys that I’ve ever seen in my whole life,” she spoke vaguely, keeping her eyes at the front desk of the library, “come on, let’s go and find a table.”

Tom felt a stab of jealousy at how breathy her voice sounded and to torture himself even more he snuck a glance at the desk where this Chris was sitting. Even Tom thought that he was a very handsome man, he had dark hair and a thick layer of stubble along his chin and he was wearing a green sweater. Cass pretty much swooned when Chris saw her and waved at her, Tom rolled his eyes as they got to a table.

“He looks like a stupid bearded, sweater wearing, dumb dork,” Tom knew that he was using a lot of adjectives but now wasn’t the time to be grammatically correct.

“He really is,” Cass sighed happily, chewing on her bottom lip as they sat down at the table and got their study materials out.

“It wasn’t a compliment but go off I guess,” Tom shook his head with a sigh.

In no time at all they were studying in silence, side by side, Tom was completing an essay and Cass was drawing. Every now and then she’d sneak a peek at Chris and when she did it was like no one else or nothing else mattered. When she was drawing, Tom got to get a good look at her and even daydream about her a little. She was the reason why he was okay with his date going wrong because Cass was one of the most beautiful girls that he’d ever seen. His favourite part about her was her hazel eyes that were framed with long, thick eyelashes. Tom really wanted to ask her a question that he thought he already knew the answer to but he decided that there was no harm in asking.

“You got a boyfriend Cass?” he asked as casually as he could, not missing the way she quickly raised her head and fixed him with an surprised look. After a moment her features relaxed and she smiled at him.

“Nope, I don’t do the whole boyfriend thing, obviously I’ve had boyfriends in the past and I get crushes on people all the time.  But having a boyfriend is a pretty hard thing to have when you don’t believe in love.”

The silence between them was so deafening that if a pin was dropped it would sound like a heavy explosion, how could someone as beautiful as her not believe in love? Tom was more than a little disappointed, “you um, you don’t believe in love?”

Cass shook her head with a little shrug and went back to pencilling her sketch, “I’ve never had it.”

“What about your dad? He loves you doesn’t he?”

“That’s a different kind of love, my dad has to love me and besides, I feel like my dad had no choice, like I was dumped on him or something,” she said this so nonchalantly that it actually alarmed Tom a little bit, he wanted to ask her what she meant but he didn’t want to pry. Also, if she wanted him to know she would have told him.

“I’m sure your dad loves you so much, I’ve seen how much he adores you when he comes into the coffee shop sometimes. What about your mum?”

Cass’s casual mood switched almost instantly, she dropped her pencil and looked up at him, Tom’s heartbeat sped up when he saw that her eyes were glassy, “that’s a story for another time.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, thank you for asking though,” Cass’s smile was so genuine that it hurt Tom to know that she didn’t believe in love, she was so sweet.

Tom was going to help her believe, no matter what it took.

------------------------------------------------------------

 @void-imaginations @mutuallynotmutual @marvelellie

[vanaera]

Point of Origin and Intersections

Summary | People come and go at certain points of your life. You just didn't expect you’ll find yourself and Seokjin back to where you started. Prompt | 22. Things you said after it was over (bass guitarist!seokjin medicine student!you) Genre | Angst, some fluff, non-explicit smut Wordcount | 2,219 A/N | I drew inspiration from Paper Towns so if you see the familiar "Anything's ugly up close," quote, that's that :) I recently finished the book and I can't get it out of my head.

           “Day 1: June 10, Sunday morning, the clouds were grey and foreboding, the forecaster lied about having a good weather. I read about James Hutton yesterday. He said ‘there is no prospect of an end’ and I’m halfway through understanding it.”

           “What are you writing?”

           Your hand stops your scribbling on your notebook to look at him. “It’s nothing.” Tucking the notebook back in your bag, you fixed your seat in the passenger side of his car, and settled your elbow against the window. Looking at the barren road comes off quite direful so you set your gaze instead on the man behind the wheel, his hand rested on the steering wheel and it’s been a while since that hand held yours.

           Kim Seokjin is a handsome man, and it was the first thing that crossed your mind when you met him in Incheon airport three years ago. You remember it was around June because he ended up seating by your side in the plane and told you he’ll be spending his summer vacation at his friend’s summer house in LA. He was talkative, even when you first met him, and at that time it was only natural for him because you realized he was afraid of turbulences on flight. You had to grab his hand tight and coaxed him to tell you he’s a business major but he didn’t like his course, he’s also a sub-vocalist and bass guitarist in a band his friends formed, or that he also wants to visit Universal Studios once he lands on American land. You chuckled then, and told him you’re going to LA because of your older brother’s college graduation, and that you might go to Universal Studios too when you have extra time. The 14-hour flight turned out to be too short for the both of you that when you finally landed on the airport, Seokjin asked for your number, and you find yourself stuck with your phone for the next days as you text each other back and forth.

           June transgressed to September and it was fall when Seokjin appeared in the gates of your college campus just to ask you out. You were bewildered at first but then he laughed and reminded you that you mentioned your college to him and the studio his friend rent with him was in the next neighborhood, so it was easy for him to finally find you. You snorted at your own short memory and he told you it’s alright. That night, you found yourself having dinner at Burger King and he walked you back to your dorm which earned him a quick peck on his cheek.

           The next months blended into each other and you really didn’t care then. As the leaves of golden hues fell down one by one, you also find yourself falling for Seokjin and his mellow songs, and the callous on his fingers that you told him was weirdly pleasing on your skin when he touched and explored the slopes of your body in so many nights he had you feeling on top of the world. You never had a relationship with a man so free-spirited before and you think it was that quality of him you never thought you needed when your life is so restrained with deadlines, responsibilities, and the cleanliness and whiteness of the laboratories that almost became your second home.

           “You know you have to slow down sometimes right? Your medicine course have a heavy workload and your small body won’t take it in one go,” he hums against your throat as he peppers kisses on your jaw that had you mewling against him.

           “Well,” you detach yourself from him, breath ragged from his earlier ministrations after a romantic dinner he prepared, “I would think about it but for now,” you smile before you kiss him again, teeth sinking on his plush lips that had him groaning, “just keep going because I think I could take you in one go.”

           He chuckles before he settles your back gently on his pristine sheets, the huge span of his shoulders enough to blanket your bare heart thrumming for him. “Let’s see then if you can, darling.”

           It was spring when you introduced each other to your own families and you found yourself cackling at his bad puns while you carry your boxes inside a flat you both bought with a clean split. Moving in with Seokjin filled you both delight and contentment especially when your boyfriend had already filled every room of your heart with his love and yours, and just the both of you with so much more and nothing less.

           But there are things you can’t avoid to see when you’re finally fully inside someone’s life, enough to draw one’s days and sketch one’s future. You remember one day when you did a road trip that led you going up some abandoned building just to have a magnificent overview of the city where you belonged.

           “It’s amazing,” you said out loud, “when you see everything from a distance. I mean I remember there’s some rickety building across our apartment and I could barely see the cracking paint or the rusted metal works of that building from here.”

           “Anything’s ugly up close, the evident details make it hard to be invisible.” He said.

           “Not you though,” you looked at him smiling.

           “Of course, he grins and you hit his shoulder playfully. “Of course, it’s not us” he envelops you in his arms as you both watched the hues of the sunset warm up the grey, bleak city.

           It turns out you answered his statement without thinking. Your family once told you their concern about Seokjin’s occupation, a situation that your friends also remarked was quite unsteady.

           “Seokjin is a lovely man, dear, and he clearly loves you. It’s just, I think he has to be more serious in his business major than the gigs he goes to.” You remember your mother telling you this some Sunday morning when you went home.

           And you think maybe it’s your fault you let it fester in your mind more frequently than needed that you started talking to him about this instead of with him. You think he felt inferior to your promising studies and the fact that maybe he thinks you look down on him for his not-worth-mentioning marks in his college that he started shutting you out more frequently than he wanted. Fights started with just an easy flick of temper and it tediously dragged on days, sometimes weeks. They don’t typically end, no resolve was reached - just halted because you’ll go to him, or him to you and you’ll find yourselves entangled in your love you built in your home. You think it’s a good thing both of you can’t wander too far away from each other although it’s some kind of a settlement to make up for the gap between you two when your mindsets won’t budge away from the positions they’re in.

           However, the final strike that blows all the proportions out of order comes when you learned Seokjin dropped his major and set his mind going solo in his music journey. His friends told you they fought when they told your boyfriend the gigs they do is just for extra income and that they weren’t really planning to make an unsteady career as their fundamental source of income. And true to their words, you found the boy in some tiny disheveled studio crammed between sloppy constructions in some rough neighborhood. This must be where he hides from you when your fights drive him away from your home. The shock on his face was beyond words, but so is your anger as you confronted him, told him what your family, friends, his friends think about his life choices, and what you really think of him. This time, you don’t see it’s your fault when he won’t budge, when he told you hurtful words you know he didn’t mean, when he won’t see how absurd it was for him to throw away his opportunities in exchange for something he’s not even sure to begin with.

           “I did not in any way downgrade you and yet you have the privilege to do so, wow, Y/N,” he claps, mocking you in every way he can, “how very nice of you.”

           “I’m not degrading you! I’m just telling you this isn’t for you!” You shouted. “What do you expect me to say, huh? The bills won’t pay themselves and I can’t keep thinking love will solve it all when the world and everything will drain us with every cent we’ve got.”

           He’s looking at you with his lips closed and you finally let out the things you’ve been worrying about, things you’re too afraid to talk about so you closed them off to him. You’re planning to tell him someday when you’re finally prepared but now you know, you really needed to let them out in the open. “What if we build our own family, sure I may work at some hospital and come home every night but you’ll always be gone and I can’t let my kid have a father who’s barely there!”

           “Then I can’t stay with you.”

           “What?”

           “I’m tired of you breathing down on my neck every now and then. I can’t have that. I want to break up, Y/N.”

           Silence suddenly swept in after the chaos that ensued minutes ago but you can’t have the momentum change now you’re already here. Holding your head high you said, “Fine. If that’s what you want, I’ll give you what you want. Let’s break up. I’m also tired of you, Seokjin.”

           You know you said things you didn’t mean at all but you didn’t think about going back on your words. You know some day will come you’ll say those words, when the ending was already clear in front of you – with the way he lived, the choices he made, and what he said to you when you’re trying to get him back home after running away for so many days - the details make it evident. So before you could back out from your decisions, you accepted the overseas exchange program the next day and started to pack your belongings in the same boxes you brought in.

           When he came home five days later, he wasn’t even surprised to learn from you about the decisions you made, nor the sudden emptiness of the house itself, no longer a home when you already brought with you the things that made it what it was before.

           “I’m going to LA. Can you at least drive me to the airport next week? I can’t bring all of these on my own.”

           He doesn’t look at you and you didn’t expect him to do so. “Okay.”

           He didn’t apologize, he didn’t come home for the next days until the day before your flight just so he could cook you the spaghetti you loved so much, the same one he cooked when he first invited you in his home, as some farewell gift you’d like to think. It’s not enough to quell the pain in your heart but you’ll never let him know of that; you’ll only take what you can get so you smiled at him and thanked him for the meal.

           And now is the first day you’ll start your life again in some country like a clean slate you never dreamed to be. When he stopped the engine in the parking lot, his hand stopped you from unbuckling your seatbelt.

           “Wait.”

           You stop your movement and looked at him, eyes questioning the motive behind his words. Staying with him made it only natural for you to do so.

           He looks at your eyes for the first time now and tells you what you’ve wanted to hear.“I’m sorry, I- I’m really sorry. I know I’m a jerk and all and I just-

           “It’s alright though, Seokjin. It’s okay. I’ll just-

           “Do-Do you really have to go?”

           He can’t do this to you now, not when you’ve let the deal open for so many days. You shake your head and give him an apologetic smile. “I already said yes to their offer and I can’t back out now, Seokjin, I hope you’ll understand that.”

           He doesn’t say anything anymore and helps you unbuckle your seatbelt. He stays quiet, pulling your luggages with him as he leads you to your gate. He remained speechless and just hugged and waved at you when your flight is announced and you already went inside.

           Leaning on your seat, you think about endings and the way they happen, how yours and Seokjin’s happened right where you both started. But before you could deny James Hutton’s hypothesis of the non-existent prospect of endings, you felt your phone buzz against the pocket of your jeans.

           Seokjin: I didn’t mean what I said before and I know it’s already too late but I have to tell you I still love you. I never stopped and I don’t think I’ll ever stop. I don’t expect you to feel the same anymore but I’d like to let you know I will wait for you. (9:47 AM).

           You smile before you turned off your phone.

All Rights Reserved © Vanaera. No reposts, modifications, and translations of content is allowed without direct permission.

[spideyboyholland-blog]

Red and Blue | Peter Parker

A/N: HI! So I’m hoping on that writing train for Spider-Man/Tom Holland because I literally spent like three weeks binge reading? the shit out of fics and wanted to write my own. Yeah, I know Christmas is over, but I started this beforehand and wanted to post it anyway. Oh, I also have another writing blog: @twenty-onedirections where I write for bands (mainly 1D & twenty one pilots). Whereas this blog is strictly for, well ya know already. ONE MORE THING before I shut up: All of my fics regarding Peter, I’ll be making him university age (like early twenties) cause I feel uncomfortable writing about a fifteen-year-old.

Gif not mine!

Summary: (Y/N) discovers a different color scheme while hunting for Christmas decorations at Peter’s apartment.

“A little to the left."

"This way?"

"No-no. My left, sorry." A slight pause. "And perfect! Right there."

May slides her hand across the large snowflake decal, sticking it against the glass of the window that overlooks the rest of Queens. The city lights begin to click on as the sun sinks into the horizon, turning the sky into a mixture of pinks, oranges, and reds. “Alright, let me see!” She hops off the back of the sofa that sits just in front of the window, then scurries over to my side, gasping in awe. “Oh, it looks great! I like how it sparkles in the lights we placed around the window.”

“Me, too! That was a nice touch, May.” She smiles at me with delight. “So what’s next on the agenda?”

Ever since around four o’ clock in the afternoon, I’ve been over at the Parker’s helping May decorate for Christmas since Peter was nowhere to be found. Initially, this wasn’t what I had planned. When I knocked on the door of their apartment with my messenger bag filled with notes and books over my shoulder, I intended to have Peter help me study for a calculus exam. There was only less than a month of my freshman year left, and I wanted to ace this final so I wouldn’t have to take any more mathematics for the rest of my college career. I wasn’t necessarily terrible at math, it was more trouble concentrating on what was on the page. All of those formulas, numbers, and symbols just deflate my interest right off the bat, so Peter acted more like a babysitter rather than a tutor.

As soon as May opened up the door, festive music poured out into the hallway, echoing down either side. She was outfitted in her pajamas with her brown hair all tied up in a messy bun and greeted me with a warm smile. “Pete’s not home, but you can come in if you’d like?” I thanked her with a grin, and she pushed open the door to allow my inside, the music reaching full volume once she shut the door behind us. Apologizing, she trotted over to the radio to crank it down a few notches, then joined me in the kitchen where I was setting my bag on a chair. “Bet you can guess where he is.” May challenged, picking up her mug that was either full of coffee or hot chocolate. The steam fogged up her glasses when she took a sip. I hummed sarcastically, leaning against the coffee table with my arms crossed like I needed to think it over.

"Let's see: either the library on campus or the Stark Internship?"

She held a small smile. "Although, those were great guesses, they were wrong, unfortunately." I tilted my head in confusion, causing May to giggle. "He's at Ned's, well, that's the story I got this time at least. He was supposed to home an hour ago to help me decorate.” She sighed then set the mug behind her. “That kid doesn’t know when to take a break, he’s always on the run and go. It worries me to death.” The corners of May’s mouth pull into a frown with spreads over to me. For the eight years, I have known the Parker’s, I’ve only seen May distraught twice. The first being when her husband, Ben, passed and the second when Peter and the decathlon team almost died in the Washington Monument elevator the sophomore year of high school. Other than that, she’s usually a ray of sunshine and one of the nicest people ever if they stay on her good side that is.

The very first time I had met May was when I was in seventh grade. Peter and I weren’t exactly fast friends since we were never in the same class together until that year. He sat two seats behind me in Chemistry, always engrossed in his notes and books never really talking to anyone, except for Ned, unless he had to. All in all Peter and I weren’t all that different. Sure we “belonged” to different social circles: myself being the artsy type, while Peter was the typical science nerd, but we both were shy, listened rather than spoke, and were loyal to the ones we love the most. It was toward the end of seventh grade, just a month before summer vacation, and our teacher wanted to throw in one final project. The Midtown Science Academy held a science fair every single year with many students participating mainly just for fun or if extra credit was rewarded, but this year our teacher made it mandatory calling it our final exam. Since all of us couldn't win, he graded us on presentation, creativeness, and originality. He didn't let us choose our partners either which led to Peter. We sat at four black tables with four seats at each of them; I was at the front while Peter sat in the third row. Instead of pairing us off with the person on our right like he usually did, he went to the person directly behind us, and consequently enough the peer behind Peter and the one behind myself were both out sick that day, so we were defined as partners.

At the start of it, our conversations were strictly about the project, then, a week later, it branched off later into related subjects like what are favorite classes were to extracurriculars, subsequently resulting in debating on what the best video game character was. All in all, it took the remainder of the school year for the two of us to warm up to each other, but we still weren't classified as best friends, just mere acquaintances. I remember Peter inviting me over to his apartment for the first time late after school the day before the science fair to go over some finishing details. I came to find out that we lived in the same complex on the same floor when he gave me his address. However, when I knocked on the door, an older woman answered instead of the brown haired boy. Immediately, all of my shyness came back when she smiled sweetly. May was super friendly that entire night always checking up on us, seeing if we needed anything. I didn't know if she was always like this or just thrilled that Peter had brought a new friend home from school. Either way, as the years went on, she's become the fun aunt that I had always wanted.

"I'm sure he's alright, May. This is Peter we are talking about. How much trouble could he get into?" Although, she was right about him slipping away all the time. He never did it before, but it's expected now ever since he started this Stark Internship, and the name of it is about how much we know about it. Peter never keeps secrets from the two of us, but he is definitely hiding something when it comes to this. Of course, I never ask because I don't want to feel intrusive, and May asked a few times, and all she received was the same blunt answer: "I can't really talk about it right now." So we just stopped asking altogether, hoping one day he would spill the beans.

She giggles at the statement. "I don't know. He did get a detention in high school once, remember?"

"Oh yeah, how could I forget?" I chuckled. "Seriously though May, I'm sure he's okay."

She sighed then pushed away from the countertop she was leaning on to walk back out into the living room. "Okay. I won't be such a worry wart, but since Peter is still gone, would you like the honor of helping me decorate? Christmas is only two weeks away!" She added an excited smile at the end that made her brown eyes sparkle with delight.

And the answer to that question leads up to now. Our bellies are full of eggnog, some spiked and some not, our voices humming to the sixteenth Christmas song in a row, and half of the apartment is sparkling with decorations. Needlessly to say after an hour and a half of snowflakes, wreaths, reindeer, and snowmen, I'd say we are making pretty good progress. The only thing left to do was the tree which May had already drug the large box into the living room and started to pull out the branches setting them in different sections on the floor. I picked up the entire bottom portion and placed them individually into the desired slots; then May followed behind by fluffing them out. It took another half an hour to finish fluffing the tree. The sun disappeared well below the horizon as the clock struck six and faint white stars began to decorate the sky. “Oh shoot,” May mutters, staring the at the strand of unlit lights in her palms.

“What’s up?” I ask, making a few adjustments on the branches toward the top of the tree, then I avert my gaze to her, answering my question a few seconds later. “Oh, do you have any more?”

“Yeah, I think Peter has some in his closet from some project he did forever ago. I have one good strand here, but I two for the tree.” She unplugs them from the outlet to begin wrapping them around her arm. “It's on the top shelf, I think?”

Nodding, I disappear down the hall toward Peter’s room. My socked feet pad on the hardwood floor before scuffing the carpet when I push open his door. It's changed so much since he was a little kid: no more bunkbed or clutter from all the toys he had, but he still had the same old desk and posters that covered the pale green walls, along with the books that lined the shelves just above it. As my eyes scan the room I've seen a million times, they fall on something just beside the lamp on the desk. Smiling to myself, I walk over and pick up the frame admiring the contents. It was a graphite sketch I drew a last year of the abstract spider that Spider-Man has on the center of his chest. Peter has been obsessed with this guy ever since the public discovered him. Anytime he does something, Peter knows about it and will gush about it for the next few days. So I thought as a little birthday present for the fanboy, I drew Spidey's symbol for him. Only I never framed the photo just gave it to him in a protective sleeve, so it warms my heart to see the gesture.

Sighing, I set the picture back down, then head over to the closet opening up the door and flicking the light on to browse the contents. I scan the top shelf but see no box of lights, so my hands slip across the wood hoping to find the strand at least. No luck. I let out of breath of frustration, then push all of the clothes hanging on the bar to the left to browse the small shelf next to it. A scent of musk and faint laundry detergent fill my nostrils when I move the clothes back to the right to search the last rack. However, something tumbles off a hanger and onto the floor right next to my left foot. Instinctively, I pick it up to put it back not even paying attention to what it was, but the rough texture immediately tore my focus away. It was red with black lines running in a pattern along the fabric. Flipping it over to examine it further, my brows come together not in confusion, but in bewilderment. Two white almond eyes with thick black outlines stare straight back at me resembling a specific face that's all too familiar. "You're kidding me..." I whisper, then avert my full gaze up to the last hanger holding a long suit that drags the ground. The iconic colors slap me across the face, but surely this can't be right... right? I mean Peter is a fantastic friend, but this is also Peter I'm talking about: the nerdy, awkward, shy, clumsy Peter Parker. Sliding the hanger back to reveal the front, I sharply inhale as the answer becomes more apparent. How is this possible? I rush back over to the desk, grabbing the picture to compare it to the symbol on the front of the suit and it... matches. My jaw falls open. "You're-"

"(Y/N)? May said I find you in he-" Peter says as he steps into his bedroom, but freezes in his tracks when he catches me holding the mask and frame. His brown eyes grow the widest I had ever seen them, then hurries and closes the door. "I- uh- can explain- this-" He tears the fabric from my fingertips as well the photo, placing it back on the desk. "a-and t-that." He closes the closet door, breaking my dead stare from all the red and blue. "I-it's not what it l-looks like, this is just a c-costume (Y/N) a-and..."

Peter’s excuses fade away as my mind trails off somewhere. As he stutters on, a little fire ignites in the pit of my stomach. How dare he hide something so huge, so damn dangerous and vital from May or from me! He could get hurt or.. worse. The word I refuse to acknowledge shakes me to the core because I cannot and will not picture a world without Peter Parker in it. Thinking that all of the laughs we’ve shared, heart-to-hearts, tears, and anything else in those long eight years would be nothing but a memory. Neither of us could handle that kind of devastation and to make matters worse, he's been lying the entire time to cover his ass. This Stark Internship is probably a bullshit excuse for him to run around and play a superhero. No internship would require someone to leave at the drop of a hat like that, or work a ridiculous amount of hours per week. Friends don't keep secrets from each other, especially big ones like this. With all this pent-up emotion, I expected myself to scream at him, but my responses are quiet and pained. "Just. Stop." I order through gritted teeth, and Peter does with a guilty expression written all over his face. His lips form a thin line as he looks down at the ground. “Why didn’t you tell me, Peter?" It’s hard to look at him without the feeling of punching him a thousand times or just bursting into tears.

"I-I didn't want you to worry about me-"

"Of course I'm going to worry about you! I do it all the time already!" My sudden rise in octave caused him to flinch, and look up. "How could I not when you disappear for hours on end, never return my calls or text messages during that time? I’d lie awake in bed wide for hours wondering what the hell has happened to you? And for you to show up in class the next morning acting like nothing was wrong? Do you know what that does to me, Peter? To Aunt May?" I began to pace around his room, my eyes starting to fill up with tears. His concerned eyes followed my shaking body back and forth, then trailed up when my hand came up to wipe away the wetness falling across my cheeks. The corners of his mouth turned down into a frown.

"(Y/N), please don’t cry." Peter steps away from the closet door, but I hold out my hand trying to prevent him from coming any closer, but he just brushes it away and engulfs me in his arms. I can’t help but lose my composure in his comforting embrace when my arms wrap around him. “I’m really sorry I hurt you. This is the last thing I wanted.” He murmurs into my hair.

“I’m mainly upset because you lied to me instead of telling me the truth. Sure, I would’ve still been angry with you risking your life, but... don’t you trust us?” I whisper, pulling away from him to find watery brown eyes, but not sad ones; they almost appear angry.

"It’s not that I don’t trust you two... It’s way more complicated than that.” A sharp knock on the door brings our attention to May’s voice asking if everything was alright. “Y-yeah, May we’re okay. We’ll be out in a second.” Peter calls out to her.

“Okay, well don’t be too much longer! I wanna get this tree finished!” Her chipper voice replies, then we hear her footsteps fade away before mixing in with the music.

Peter turns back to me with a frustrated sigh paired with a hand running through his soft curls. “Look (Y/N), I never told you because I don't want you interfering with this part in of my life.” That line felt like a knife being jabbed right into my chest. Weren’t best friends supposed to go through everything together, no matter how awful it was? And aren’t they are supposed to have each other’s backs? “It’s too risky and dangerous. There are people out there that would do awful things to you just to make me suffer, and that’s the last thing I want.” My rage started to fade at the biting words and was replaced with a pang of guilt and sadness. “I’m sorry that I made you worry so much, it was hard not to just explain everything right then and there, but I just couldn’t do it.” Peter bites his bottom lip, holding back the tears threatening to spill over. “Say something, (Y/N).” But I couldn’t, no matter how hard I wanted to, my mouth wouldn’t open nor could I find the right words to say. I love Peter so damn much, probably more than a best friend should and now knowing that there was a chance I wouldn't see him tomorrow just tears me up inside.

His name tumbles off my lips in the faintest whisper as a couple more tears escape. He perks up at the sound of my voice then falters at my next statement. "I-I just... d-don't know what I would do if I lost y-you."

Peter pulls me in for another bone-crushing hug without any hesitation. "Please don't think like that. I'm standing right here, right now... with you. And just know that I will always come back to you." Peter's warmth, the familiar musky scent, his big brown eyes, the shy smile, and quirky personality was wrapped around me like a comforting blanket that I never want to throw off. He's my best friend. The corners of my lips pull up into a small smile at the thought and grows even more at the next. And I love him.

[atakportal]

How Drew Gooden rebuilt his online identity after Vine died

New Post has been published on https://pin.atak.co/how-drew-gooden-rebuilt-his-online-identity-after-vine-died/

How Drew Gooden rebuilt his online identity after Vine died

This post is part of Me, online, Mashable’s ongoing series digging into online identities. 

If you’ve ever found yourself mourning the downfall of Vine by binging compilations late at night — because really, who hasn’t? — you’ve probably seen Drew Gooden’s iconic “Road work ahead? I sure hope it does!” 

That Vine inspired remixes, parodies, and fan merchandise. But the 24-year-old is ready to work on other projects. 

Like many Vine stars, Gooden’s made the transition to YouTube as a vlogger. Three years after that immensely popular Vine, he’s navigating the world of reaction videos, figuring out his own brand, and trying to move past being known as the Road Work Ahead guy.  

The following conversation with Gooden has been edited for length and clarity. 

Mashable: You started off on Vine, and now you’re making a name for yourself on YouTube. What was the thought process you went through when YouTube started growing more and Vine kind of just died out?

Drew Gooden: For me, there wasn’t really crossover. A lot of people on Vine used their Vine platform to get big on YouTube. I waited until Vine died and didn’t go to YouTube, and then a few months went by and I was like, OK, I guess I’ll try it. So I had to start from scratch again on YouTube. By the time YouTube was starting to work out, Vine was so far in the rearview mirror. And YouTube has done a lot more than Vine — like I never made money from Vine. YouTube is now like a career. I forget exactly what your question was because I just ramble a lot.  

No worries. What was your thought process as you transitioned to YouTube?

When I first started YouTube, I wasn’t doing what I’m doing now. I tried to do what I was doing on Vine: basically little sketches, where I play all the characters, but it would just be longer. I think they’re all pretty funny, but the way YouTube works, people really want to get to know you as a person. And so when I started to incorporate that, but into more sitting down and talking about something and sharing my opinion it felt like that’s when it really started to take off. 

Do you think if Vine stuck around for longer, people would make a career out of it?

Not at the rate it was going. There was a peak of Vine where people were making a lot of money — I wasn’t one of those people but I know some of these people were doing these brand deals and these brands were throwing out so much money. There wasn’t a way to figure out if it converted, where YouTube, you get a brand deal and get a link. They click on the link. With Vine it was just like, “Drink Pepsi!” and they had no way to track. 

How old were you when you made your infamous “road work ahead” Vine? 

I think I was 21. And it was not nearly as big. But that’s one of those Vines that seems to be more popular now than it ever was then, because it’s in all the like, Vine compilations on YouTube. It’s funny, because … [at] VidCon, about one out of three people were like, “Oh, you’re the road work ahead guy!” And they’d want to film me saying the Vine for like, Snapchat or whatever. I was like, “I’ve done other stuff,” but you know. 

So you think that got popular because of the Vine compilation videos and not when Vine was still a thing?

I think so. I think it’s also that when people are reminded of it when they see a sign, and maybe they say it to their friend, and then they’ve introduced them. It’s kind of branched out over the years. It was not popular when it came out, but now it’s like my catchphrase. I sell shirts with it on it, because gotta capitalize on it while it lasts. 

me: road work ahead?? UHH yea, i sure hope it DOES

my driving instructor, clenching her fists: drew you took your driving test like 8 years ago please get out of my house https://t.co/nESlDxFehJ

— Drew Gooden (@drewisgooden) March 27, 2018

But now it’s three years later, you’ve tweeted about how you’re tired of it and called it a “curse” — can you talk a little about that?

Yeah it was funny. Like, I go back and forth. I compare it to a band that has one really big song, and even though they make a bunch of different songs, they have to close every show for the next ten years with that song. Because that’s what people want! So you have to embrace it, but there’s a part of me that’s like, “Please don’t make me say it again.” 

I’d like to separate myself from it, but I have to embrace it, you know? And if that’s how people discover me and if they like my new stuff, then that’s great. 

And you sell merch for it, so you’re making money off it.

Right.

It’s hard though — you’re a meme. You become a meme, and people want you to be that. 

How have you tried moving past that one Vine, either in your personal life or in your path as a YouTuber?

I guess moving past it is just about doing other things. Doing as many other things as possible. I think there are other Viners who have one thing and then they try to milk it forever, and that’s fine, but they never end up doing anything else. It’s hard though — you’re a meme. You become a meme, and people want you to be that. 

Did you ever see that Vine, and he’s like “It is Wednesday, my dudes” and he screams? 

Yeah!

I saw him at VidCon and he was wearing the costume from that. He does other things now, he does YouTube and Twitch. But people aren’t gonna recognize him now unless he’s wearing that costume. 

Right. And you’re getting more into vlogging — how has that played into you moving on from Road Work Ahead Guy? 

I don’t know. I feel like the more things I do that aren’t centered around that Vine, the more I’m separating myself from it, even though people will always associate that with me. I think it’s something that I can’t do on my own. Like even if I say, “Guys I’m done with that,” people are still gonna see me as the Road Work Ahead guy. There’s almost nothing you can do in separating yourself from something that’s become bigger than yourself.

So much of YouTube is sharing your personal life. You even have a video called “Exploiting My Relationship For Content.”

Ha, yeah. 

Do you ever regret having so much out there in the public?

I guess, to an extent. But you go into it knowing that’s going to be part of it. And I think I am able to separate — there’s a lot I don’t have to advertise. I don’t have to say everything about my relationship. Like, I like being able to include my fiancée in stuff because she wants to and people like her. I feel like there’s nothing I’ve put out there that I wasn’t willing to put out there. The only time I do regret it is when I mess up in a video, it’s on the internet forever. 

Where do you draw the line between what’s too personal and what’s good for content?

I think I embrace it in that if something embarrassing happens to me, I think that does make for good content to tell the story. Like I’ve pooped my pants before when I was 15, and it’s a really funny story and I could be like, “Oh, I hope no one finds out, or I could just embrace it as a funny story. I think the key is try not to be embarrassed. Where I would draw the line, is like, don’t come to my house. 

You had a pretty scathing review of Jake Paul’s concert. 

Right.

What do you think of the identity that the Paul brothers built for themselves, and why do you dislike it so much? 

So much of it is built on “We have all this money, and you don’t.” And without acknowledging the fact that the people they’re bragging to are the people who gave them all that money. With Jake and Logan Paul, they’ve done individually, things that are pretty messed up. Logan had the thing with the suicide forest — how would you even think to do that? — and Jake doxxed Post Malone. I think they’re more interested in making content than being good people. It’s so self-promotional, and it’s just kind of gross. I think they’re delusional about the fact their fans are kids. 

But at the same time, you have said before that some of your super popular content was bashing on the Paul brothers. How do you feel building your own image off of someone else’s terrible image?

Yeah, that’s where I’m at right now. I’ve been doing that for a little bit now, because it’s easy to grow on YouTube as someone who rants about other things. I do get called out once in a while — like, “You’re making fun of these people, but all you’re doing is making fun of them, so how are you any better?” I try to add as much of my own flavor to it. Also, knowing that I’m not going to do this forever, I want to use this to transition into original, traditional content, not so much like, “And here’s who sucks this week!” 

How would you define your brand, then, as a content creator? 

I don’t really know … I feel like so much of it is figuring it out as I go. Whatever works, I’ll just do more. I guess I would describe my YouTube channel as me being the voice of reason amidst all of this weird shit that’s going on on the internet. Like, a couple of videos I made that are really big are about the pointless life hacks that you see on Facebook all the time. I like content like that because there’s not a victim, really. I’m not making fun of a specific person, I could just point at something that everyone thinks is dumb and be like, “Look how dumb it is!” 

Do you have a goal set for yourself for moving into traditional content?

When I started before Vine and everything, what I wanted to do was write for a television show. Not a movie, specifically a TV series. Like, I’m a big fan of The Office — I’ve always wanted to write a show like that. So I’d like to, eventually with my platform and my audience, kind of get to a point where I could fund something like that and make something that’s scripted. And [one that] is a story rather than you know, reacting or ranting about something. That’s where I want to get. 

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[atakportal]

How Drew Gooden rebuilt his online identity after Vine died

New Post has been published on https://pin.atak.co/how-drew-gooden-rebuilt-his-online-identity-after-vine-died/

How Drew Gooden rebuilt his online identity after Vine died

This post is part of Me, online, Mashable’s ongoing series digging into online identities. 

If you’ve ever found yourself mourning the downfall of Vine by binging compilations late at night — because really, who hasn’t? — you’ve probably seen Drew Gooden’s iconic “Road work ahead? I sure hope it does!” 

That Vine inspired remixes, parodies, and fan merchandise. But the 24-year-old is ready to work on other projects. 

Like many Vine stars, Gooden’s made the transition to YouTube as a vlogger. Three years after that immensely popular Vine, he’s navigating the world of reaction videos, figuring out his own brand, and trying to move past being known as the Road Work Ahead guy.  

The following conversation with Gooden has been edited for length and clarity. 

Mashable: You started off on Vine, and now you’re making a name for yourself on YouTube. What was the thought process you went through when YouTube started growing more and Vine kind of just died out?

Drew Gooden: For me, there wasn’t really crossover. A lot of people on Vine used their Vine platform to get big on YouTube. I waited until Vine died and didn’t go to YouTube, and then a few months went by and I was like, OK, I guess I’ll try it. So I had to start from scratch again on YouTube. By the time YouTube was starting to work out, Vine was so far in the rearview mirror. And YouTube has done a lot more than Vine — like I never made money from Vine. YouTube is now like a career. I forget exactly what your question was because I just ramble a lot.  

No worries. What was your thought process as you transitioned to YouTube?

When I first started YouTube, I wasn’t doing what I’m doing now. I tried to do what I was doing on Vine: basically little sketches, where I play all the characters, but it would just be longer. I think they’re all pretty funny, but the way YouTube works, people really want to get to know you as a person. And so when I started to incorporate that, but into more sitting down and talking about something and sharing my opinion it felt like that’s when it really started to take off. 

Do you think if Vine stuck around for longer, people would make a career out of it?

Not at the rate it was going. There was a peak of Vine where people were making a lot of money — I wasn’t one of those people but I know some of these people were doing these brand deals and these brands were throwing out so much money. There wasn’t a way to figure out if it converted, where YouTube, you get a brand deal and get a link. They click on the link. With Vine it was just like, “Drink Pepsi!” and they had no way to track. 

How old were you when you made your infamous “road work ahead” Vine? 

I think I was 21. And it was not nearly as big. But that’s one of those Vines that seems to be more popular now than it ever was then, because it’s in all the like, Vine compilations on YouTube. It’s funny, because … [at] VidCon, about one out of three people were like, “Oh, you’re the road work ahead guy!” And they’d want to film me saying the Vine for like, Snapchat or whatever. I was like, “I’ve done other stuff,” but you know. 

So you think that got popular because of the Vine compilation videos and not when Vine was still a thing?

I think so. I think it’s also that when people are reminded of it when they see a sign, and maybe they say it to their friend, and then they’ve introduced them. It’s kind of branched out over the years. It was not popular when it came out, but now it’s like my catchphrase. I sell shirts with it on it, because gotta capitalize on it while it lasts. 

me: road work ahead?? UHH yea, i sure hope it DOES

my driving instructor, clenching her fists: drew you took your driving test like 8 years ago please get out of my house https://t.co/nESlDxFehJ

— Drew Gooden (@drewisgooden) March 27, 2018

But now it’s three years later, you’ve tweeted about how you’re tired of it and called it a “curse” — can you talk a little about that?

Yeah it was funny. Like, I go back and forth. I compare it to a band that has one really big song, and even though they make a bunch of different songs, they have to close every show for the next ten years with that song. Because that’s what people want! So you have to embrace it, but there’s a part of me that’s like, “Please don’t make me say it again.” 

I’d like to separate myself from it, but I have to embrace it, you know? And if that’s how people discover me and if they like my new stuff, then that’s great. 

And you sell merch for it, so you’re making money off it.

Right.

It’s hard though — you’re a meme. You become a meme, and people want you to be that. 

How have you tried moving past that one Vine, either in your personal life or in your path as a YouTuber?

I guess moving past it is just about doing other things. Doing as many other things as possible. I think there are other Viners who have one thing and then they try to milk it forever, and that’s fine, but they never end up doing anything else. It’s hard though — you’re a meme. You become a meme, and people want you to be that. 

Did you ever see that Vine, and he’s like “It is Wednesday, my dudes” and he screams? 

Yeah!

I saw him at VidCon and he was wearing the costume from that. He does other things now, he does YouTube and Twitch. But people aren’t gonna recognize him now unless he’s wearing that costume. 

Right. And you’re getting more into vlogging — how has that played into you moving on from Road Work Ahead Guy? 

I don’t know. I feel like the more things I do that aren’t centered around that Vine, the more I’m separating myself from it, even though people will always associate that with me. I think it’s something that I can’t do on my own. Like even if I say, “Guys I’m done with that,” people are still gonna see me as the Road Work Ahead guy. There’s almost nothing you can do in separating yourself from something that’s become bigger than yourself.

So much of YouTube is sharing your personal life. You even have a video called “Exploiting My Relationship For Content.”

Ha, yeah. 

Do you ever regret having so much out there in the public?

I guess, to an extent. But you go into it knowing that’s going to be part of it. And I think I am able to separate — there’s a lot I don’t have to advertise. I don’t have to say everything about my relationship. Like, I like being able to include my fiancée in stuff because she wants to and people like her. I feel like there’s nothing I’ve put out there that I wasn’t willing to put out there. The only time I do regret it is when I mess up in a video, it’s on the internet forever. 

Where do you draw the line between what’s too personal and what’s good for content?

I think I embrace it in that if something embarrassing happens to me, I think that does make for good content to tell the story. Like I’ve pooped my pants before when I was 15, and it’s a really funny story and I could be like, “Oh, I hope no one finds out, or I could just embrace it as a funny story. I think the key is try not to be embarrassed. Where I would draw the line, is like, don’t come to my house. 

You had a pretty scathing review of Jake Paul’s concert. 

Right.

What do you think of the identity that the Paul brothers built for themselves, and why do you dislike it so much? 

So much of it is built on “We have all this money, and you don’t.” And without acknowledging the fact that the people they’re bragging to are the people who gave them all that money. With Jake and Logan Paul, they’ve done individually, things that are pretty messed up. Logan had the thing with the suicide forest — how would you even think to do that? — and Jake doxxed Post Malone. I think they’re more interested in making content than being good people. It’s so self-promotional, and it’s just kind of gross. I think they’re delusional about the fact their fans are kids. 

But at the same time, you have said before that some of your super popular content was bashing on the Paul brothers. How do you feel building your own image off of someone else’s terrible image?

Yeah, that’s where I’m at right now. I’ve been doing that for a little bit now, because it’s easy to grow on YouTube as someone who rants about other things. I do get called out once in a while — like, “You’re making fun of these people, but all you’re doing is making fun of them, so how are you any better?” I try to add as much of my own flavor to it. Also, knowing that I’m not going to do this forever, I want to use this to transition into original, traditional content, not so much like, “And here’s who sucks this week!” 

How would you define your brand, then, as a content creator? 

I don’t really know … I feel like so much of it is figuring it out as I go. Whatever works, I’ll just do more. I guess I would describe my YouTube channel as me being the voice of reason amidst all of this weird shit that’s going on on the internet. Like, a couple of videos I made that are really big are about the pointless life hacks that you see on Facebook all the time. I like content like that because there’s not a victim, really. I’m not making fun of a specific person, I could just point at something that everyone thinks is dumb and be like, “Look how dumb it is!” 

Do you have a goal set for yourself for moving into traditional content?

When I started before Vine and everything, what I wanted to do was write for a television show. Not a movie, specifically a TV series. Like, I’m a big fan of The Office — I’ve always wanted to write a show like that. So I’d like to, eventually with my platform and my audience, kind of get to a point where I could fund something like that and make something that’s scripted. And [one that] is a story rather than you know, reacting or ranting about something. That’s where I want to get. 

!function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s)if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments);if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n; n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0';n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0];s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window, document,'script','https://connect.facebook.net/en_US/fbevents.js'); fbq('init', '1453039084979896'); if (window.mashKit) mashKit.gdpr.trackerFactory(function() fbq('track', "PageView"); ).render(); Source link