#oh jesus shit i scrolled over to the end of red's stream he has how many hearts

[heynowisavedyouright]

while clownpierce is on vacation and branzy has become cracked & feared & a prisoner i have to turn to a new duo and or ship as the deadliest player of the server and his emotional support guy

[charspnp]

Congrats on 400. You deserve it homeslice. Can I request a quackity x reader where they're playing minecraft and building a house. He hasn't admitted his crush on the reader yet, but chat keeps teasing him about how flushed and nervous he is. After the stream, he finally confesses and reader is like :0 I like you too!!!!

-snow anon

a/n: take a shot every time alex messes with his beanie. you'll be dead <3

"alex!!" you yelled excitedly after seeing said boy undeafen on discord.

immediately, quackity started blushing and nervously pulling at his beanie. his chat was quick to notice - of course they were, they're always looking for his seemingly neverending blush that settles itself on the streamer's face whenever he was with you.

"y/n!" he responded in the same tone, just as excited.

"what're we gonna do today, alex?" you asked, more calmly.

"well, i was just thinking we could build a house!" he responded as he moved his hair under his beanie and tugged at it again, his blush starting up again.

you knew the effect you had on him - everyone in your friend group does, they always tease him for it. the thought of him blushing because he likes you has crossed your mind, but you always brushed it off as your crush on him trying to convince you that it was mutual.

"oooh, a house? for the two of us? to live in together?" you teased, getting closer to your mic.

you had his stream pulled up on your other monitor and gauged his reaction. he pulled at his beanie and ticked his hair into it, glancing back and forth from his screen where minecraft was pulled up, to his chat, which was going a mile a minute. his usually did always go insanely fast when the two of you were together.

"u-um, well, y-yeah, if that's cool, i mean, we don't have to, we can just build our own -"

"it's fine, alex, i'm just teasing you," you cut off his anxious rambles. he shut up, face completely red, and just mumbled about opening the game and getting on the server. you chuckled and shook your head at him, also logging into the server.

the two of you spawned next to each other, the previous time you two had logged off was when you were playing together off stream. that only triggered his chat to go crazy since the last time he streamed minecraft wasn't with you and suddenly he's with you. they eat that shit up.

"so, where are we gonna make it?"

-----

about two hours and lots of laughs and flustered stuttering later, your guy's house was done. it was a medium sized dark oak house, fully decorated courtesy of you. you clapped excitedly and alex let out a drawn out sigh, glad that the building was finally over.

"man, were finally done," you sighed out tiredly.

"jesus, that took -" quackity checked the time, "two hours! oh my god, chat!"

"before you end stream, we should sleep together," you said, not really thinking about your word choice, just wanting it to be day in game since you two were the only ones online.

"w-woah, y/n, t-take me out to dinner first!" alex said with a nervous tug at his beanie and a glance to his chat.

"what?" you asked, then the realization hit, "oh - dude - i-i didn't mean it like that!" you chuckled nervously. "i mean... unless..?" you flirted.

"wh - okay, chat, i'm gonna end the stream here!" you heard alex say before he deafened himself, presumably to thank everyone for showing up and giving bits and subs.

you waited probably 10 minutes, just scrolling through your phone, until you heard alex's voice come through your headphones again.

"you were bold this stream, y/n," he spoke, energy lowered now that his stream was ended.

"well, it's your fault for getting so flustered every time i say something!" you said with a smile, "it's like you like me or something." you laughed but it does in your throat when you realized quackity hadn't said anything. "alex?"

suddenly feeling bold, quackity quietly asked, "and what if i do?"

taken aback, you just responded, "yeah, okay, good one, funnyman."

"i-i'm not joking, y/n."

"wh... what?" you breathed out. on your second monitor, you watched as quackity turned on his webcam.

"i'm being serious. i like you, y/n," he spoke, glancing up at the camera lens then back at his screen, upper body moving slightly because of his rapidly bouncing foot.

"o-oh, well, in that case, um," you turned on your webcam as well, face hot and heartbeat heard in your ears, "i like you, too alex."

he looked surprised, eyes wide, jaw slightly ajar, and movement completely stopped, "r-really?" he smiled dreamily.

"yes, you doofus."

[dalamjisung]

stream it ❊ mark tuan

word count: 2690

genre: slice of life, streamer!mark 

member: mark x reader

description: your best friend is finally coming back, after years of living oceans away; but for some reason he is ignoring you. What is he planning?

He doesn’t tell you much. Actually, the little he does tell you is the same as nothing and if you ask anything else, he just changes the topic.

We’re finishing things today, he texted you almost a week ago, and after that, radio silence. You try calling, but not only he doesn’t pick up, but he also turns his phone off, and now all you can do is cuss him through your window, carefully keeping your voice down so that his family won’t hear you disgracing the name of their dear son.

Mr. Tuan had already caught you staring into his son’s empty room many times, and he’d always invite you over whenever he did, asking if you wanted to go take a look into his room– you two did spend a lot of time in there, after all. You did, once; but then never again… it looks exactly like it did the day he left for Korea and although it’s been more than ten years now, something inside still pulled and twisted at your heartstrings. A nostalgic pain, is what Ms. Tuan called it, and you nod; she’d know best, indeed. You might miss your best friend, but she misses her son, and nothing you feel or do can ever amount to that.

A shower is just what you need, you conclude, but even when the scalding hot water hits your back in a soft massage, you can’t stop thinking about him. Years ago, before he left, Mark made you a promise: he promised you two would finish what you started– and you knew what that meant, you knew he was talking about the relationship that had been blossoming for the past months… however, you started to doubt yourself as time went by. With the years, the feelings you had– have,– the feelings you have for him, started to numb, almost like a dull presence behind the rest of your life; behind all the other relationships you had, all the other decisions you made, everything. It’s always been there, and it is there still. No matter how much you rub your skin, how much you empty your head, Mark is always there. So naturally, after he told you he’d be coming back home, everything resurfaced. Only be the shattered again once he disappeared.

“Get over it,” You sigh, changing into an oversized t-shirt Mark left at your house last time he visited, a couple of years ago or so. You don’t even bother drying your hair, too tired with everything to deal with the task, and just throw yourself in your bed, scrolling mindlessly through Instagram.

Until you see the familiar notification.

marktuan started a live video. Watch it before it ends!

You sit up rather quickly, phone almost flying out of your hand with the abruptness of it all. His face takes all of the screen and there is a smile on his face, mischievous, almost childish. You feel overwhelmed– confused, happy, anguished,– it all comes forth in a second upon hearing his laughter. It’s embarrassing to admit, but you almost miss it– you almost don’t catch the red chair he’s sitting on, one that is freakishly similar to the one in the room across from your window. You heart is pounding on your chest, mind reeling with even the slightest possibility, and when, only when, you see a white fluff jumping onto his lap, Milo’s bark echoing from you phone at the same time you hear it from the neighboring house, you get up, screaming in shock.

“Ah, she’s here, everybody,” He chuckles, looking to the side, and you know he’s looking through his window to try and catch a glimpse of you. “I just heard her scream from her room.”

He’s here. He is in Los Angeles. And he’s been ignoring you even though you’re just a few feet away. Oh… oh, you are fuming.

Marching to your window, you pull your curtains open, and violently open the window, allowing the chill air of California’s night take over you. Your voice echoes from your phone when you finally shout out to him.

“MARK TUAN YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”

“Oh my god,” He laughs, throwing his head back, and this time, you see him through his window. “Y/N, there are kids watching this!”

“I swear to god, Tuan, once I put my hands around your neck I am going to kill you!” He is looking at you know, hand over his mouth to cover his shocked expression, but you see it in his eyes– the resurfacing childish glee that shines behind the adultness in his face. He goes to his own window, leaning forward, and if he just stretched his arm out, your could reach for his hand. 

“Long time no see, Y/L/N,” He winks, and you reach out, stretching so far out that you could’ve fallen if not for his hand stoping you. “Y/N, wait– no, don’t; jesus, we haven’t done this in a while... Use the front door like a normal person, woman!”

“I’m going to jump,” You warn him, legs swinging over and getting in position. “And if I still can do it, if I don’t die in the process… you should run.”

“Wait, wait, wa–“ His whole torso is out of the window, arms out to grab you once you are within reach. He embraces you to pull you inside, like he did when you were kids. Your hands grab his windowsill on the inside, feet landing on the outside wall, and together you two get you into his room. “Are you insane?! Y/N, we are old!”

“Oh no, mister,” You don’t even care that, right now, millions of people from all around the world are watching you threaten your best friend. You don’t care that millions of people have just watched you enter him room through his window. You don’t care about anything right now… anything but Mark. “You are dead.”

You punch him in the arm, and you know that the pained face and gasp are all for show– you could feel his muscles with every punch, every slap, every touch.

“You see this, guys?” Mark looks at the camera, hair falling in his face as he dodges away from you. “She will kill me! Aghase, help me!”

“Aghase will understand me,” You snarl, getting closer. “Once they find out that you’ve been here all this time and never told me!”

“I got back home this morning!” He holds your hands above your head, body glued to his. “I just got here!”

“Then you had a whole day to tell me about it and you didn’t!” One hand frees itself and grabs his shoulder, shaking him in despair.

“Mom!” He shouts, laughing as you lost your mind. “Mom, help! Dad!”

“They’re not coming,” You tell him, struggling to free yourself. “Your parents left with mine for dinner an hour ago. You’re all mine, Tuan.”

And he softens, out of nowhere; his arms, his shoulder, his smile. It all softens, and, slowly, he lets go of your hands, using the end of his grasp on you to pull you to a warm embrace; one so familiar and fitting that all your worries just vanish, and you sense that it’s not just you. The way his head falls on top of yours, kissing your hair; the way his arms are tight, like two vines around you; the way his chest heaves because it can finally breath fresh air– Mark is home.

“I missed you,” Your voice is gurgled from unshed tears, and with your damp hair and barely there shorts, you sure look crazy. “Mark, I missed you so much, why did you–“

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, a weak chuckle leaving him. “I’m sorry, bug. I promise I’ll never do that again.”

“Aghase,” You call out, looking at the computer. “You are watching this, right? Next time he disappears, I’m gonna count on all of you to find him.”

You see all the comments popping go the screen and your curiosity gets the best of you, but when you pull away to go try and read them, Mark whines and pulls you back to him.

“No,” He mumbles, voice hoarse on your neck. “Not yet.”

“The world it watching us, you big baby,” You roll your eyes. “At least tell them something!”

“Aghase!” He shouts, frustration clear in his voice. “We’ve accomplished our mission! Operation Surprise Y/N is complete!”

More comments pop up but he is quick to wave them goodbye and shut the browser down. When he turns back to look at you, his eyes travel from yours, down to the shirt that brings a smirk of recognition to his face, and then to your legs, naked and vulnerably to the chill air.

“Everything is the same,” You say, breaking the silence, too anxious and nervous now that he is here, right in front of you. He looks so different from how you see him in the screen of your phone; so tall, so real. His hair is brown again, like it used to be when you were kids, and his eyes still do that thing when he smiles, that shinny glint of innocent mischief with the creases in the sides. But what’s so different, you finally notice, is how happy he looks to be home– how relaxed and at ease he finally is. All the times he’d been back it was rushed, always fast and busy; interviews with American broadcasting programs or modeling gigs with magazines would take all of his time. Now, though… now he stands in childhood room, looking at you, as if he has all the time in the world to do so, because, well, he does.

“I know,” Mark shoves his hands in his pockets, slowly walking to you. “It’s weird, right? Nothing’s changed.”

“Nothing’s changed,” You nod, sitting in his bed. You look around, memories of you two in that same room flooding your mind. “Wait… you just got here, right? Where’s your stuff?”

Mark looks around, too, surprised that you even noticed. “Oh… I’m not– I moved somewhere else.”

“Wha–“ You try to move, but Mark is quicker, and he sits down next to you– one arm around your waist keeping you glued to him. Your head falls on his shoulder with a defeated thud and you don’t understand… “You just got back.”

“So what?” He look at you with a frown. “I still need somewhere to live, and–“

“What I mean is that you just got back,” You mumble, turning your body to throw your legs over his; thighs laying on top of his and head nuzzled in his neck. Your hands though, are tucked to your chest, and they slowly move so your fingers can grab the extra fabric of his t-shirt, holding it as if that is the only thing keeping him next to you– the only thing stopping him from leaving again. “At least stay here a bit, you know? Your mom missed you a lot, and your dad, too! They want to spent some time with their son, and I… I just missed seeing you everyday.”

“You can still see me everyday,” Mark’s hand moves your face up, forcing you to look at him. The closeness is enough to make you blush harder than the first time he kissed you; harder than when he made his promise. “I’ll still be here in L.A.”

“Yeah, but L.A. is huge,” You roll your eyes, blinking some tears back. “I don’t know how far you’ll be! Or– or why are you even choosing to live alone; I mean, I get that you shared a dorm for years but… but you just got back, Mark, and I don’t know, you could stay here with us for a while.”

“I’m not,” He chuckles, kissing your nose. “Living alone, I mean. Hopefully, you’ll move-in with me.”

“Me?!”

“Your dad mentioned you were looking into moving out when I called him a few weeks ago, and I don’t see why not,” He shrugs, pushing your hair behind your ear. “We would have a lot of fun.”

“You are almost thirty years old,” You sound as confused as you probably look. “And you want to live with your best friend?”

“No,” Mark shakes his head, fishing out a set of keys from his pocket and dangling it in front of your face. When you try to grab it, he pulls it back. “I want to live with my girlfriend.”

“Mark,” You look at him, heart speeding up with the proximity. “Don’t you think you skipped a few steps there, buddy?”

“I don’t think so,” He smile, moving forward to peck your lips and pull back, leaving you craving for more, lips brushing against yours as he continues to speak. “I made a promise, after all; this is just me making good on that promise. Now, yes or no?”

“Just like that?” You mumble, moving to kiss his lips, too, and he smiles wide. “Yes or no?”

“Just like that, baby,” And it feels like a game, this light kissing, this barely touching, this whispered words. It feels like he is baiting you, and if this is what awaits for you in the future, then you are more than happy to fall into his trap.

“Obviously yes.”

Nothing about this kiss is desperate or intense or hungry. In fact, the laziness of it all, the slow push and pull makes it so much more than you could’ve ever remember; it’s all so Mark and your whole body calls for his, pulling him closer, laughing in excitement. He is back. He is yours.

After a while of this, he pulls his phone out of his pocket, and you look at him with wide eyes.

“You’re going to stream this?” You whisper at him, eyes wide and body recoiling.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” He groans, and that noise does something to you that has you closing your eyes and shivering. “I’m just texting our parents.”

“Why?”

“To tell them they can come back.”

“They knew?” You shoot up from where you are laying in his bed, arms hugging him from behind as you hide your face in his back. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing…”

“Of course they knew,” Mark scoffs at you. “I was going to ask you to marry me, then I though I should maybe start off slower, but I already talked to your dad about it.”

“What?!”

“Oh yeah,” He smirks, turning his head to kiss you deeply. “Expect a proposal in like, six months or something like that.”

“Mark–“

“Did she say yes?” A voice comes from the phone and you both look to where six heads are trying to fit into one screen. “Hyung, did you get dumped?”

“Uh, no, I did not get dumped, Bam,” Mark sighs, and gives you the phone. You’ve only met the guys briefly, but you, Yugyeom and Bambam had proven to be quite similar, and you laugh upon seeing the youngsters dab their excitement away.

“Hey guys!” You wave, moving to Mark’s lap so that they can see both of you. The tasing continues until your parents come home and then they just carry on where the boys left off, making jokes and complaining about the apparent delay in this relationship.

Somehow, going to sleep is hard. Your mind is still spinning from all that just happened, but when Mark jumps in through your open window and lays next to you, you know that no matter how confused you are, he’ll always be there to help you understand things a little better.

“I’m so excited to show you the apartment tomorrow,” He says, cuddling next to you. “Maybe that’ll be my first video for the YouTube channel.”

“Hm,” You turn in his arms, looking deep into his eyes. “I still think Bambam’s idea is better.”

“Y/N, don’t–“

“You should definitely play The Sims4 for your first video.”

And that’s when it hits you.

No matter how far away Mark is; no matter how busy he might be– Mark will always make time for the ones he loves. So no matter how sad goodbyes are, they are not forever… not with Mark Tuan.

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

First one of the series! How about it? What do you think? Let me know :D I’m excited to see Mark’s career take off in the US. Once again, thanks for the support lovelies, it means the world for me <3

[pandemicthestory]

6: hooked

Is Isabel in danger?

With her lying there like a drugged out rag doll, it’s hard to tell. Heartbeat, breathing, she’s definitely alive...but then, why can’t she hear Emma? Something’s telling Emma not to touch the headset--no matter what’s going on with Isabel’s body, her mind is in there somewhere. And according to every movie ever, you don’t fuck with the brain. 

Emma scrambles to check out the packaging--no return address. But obviously, she knows who had to have sent this. And he knows about Universe, so he better have answers. 

Emma makes a mad dash to her bedroom. Her dad calls from downstairs.

“Did you get the package?”

“YEAH IT WAS A T-SHIRT”

A t-shirt? What? Her bullshitting skills are slipping. It doesn’t matter, her dad doesn’t actually care anyway, it’s just part of his new “I’m invested” routine. Emma slams her bedroom door behind her, then runs over to her computer. 

EMMA: Mason are you there?? 

EMMA: Hello?

EMMA: I think my sister is in trouble 

EMMA: She stole the headset, she started playing the game, she’s not responding to me, I’m massively freaking out if you can’t tell

EMMA: I’m sorry to ask this but did you...do something?

Who knows what this ghost person is capable of. Whatever connection she and he may or may not have...she doesn’t actually know him at all. 

She waits.  

Oddly, there’s nothing. Hadn’t he just told her about the package fifteen minutes ago? Where could he have gone? Emma slumps down in her chair. 

Why is it that men always disappear when they are needed most?

* * *

24 HOURS EARLIER 

A teenage boy is taking a shower in a minimalistic stall. He bows his head toward the showerhead, the powerful stream sends his wavy black hair in all directions. The boy makes the water hotter. And hotter. The skin on his neck is turning a deep shade of red, but it’s unclear if he can even feel it.

“Night, hurry the hell up. I gotta shower too.” 

The complaining breaks the peace of the showering boy. He turns off the faucet, wraps himself in a pristine white bath towel, and makes way for his roommate to take over. 

“Why d’you shower so much, man? Shit’s creepy.” 

“That’s why I do it, Sugar, to creep you out. Keeps you on your toes.”

Sugar laughs to himself and turns on the shower. The boy called Night stares at himself in the square, chrome mirror. The bathroom looks like it belongs in a very luxurious prison. 

“We getting food before class?” Sugar calls from the shower. 

“Sure, whatever.” Night exits the bathroom into an expansive bedroom with two king-sized beds. The curtains are shut, so the only source of light is a single bulb radiating from the ceiling. Night grabs a pair of deep blue linen pants and a matching button-up shirt from one of the closets and gets dressed. 

This room is pretty clearly divided, one side being far more chaotic than the other. There are desks on either side: one desk is covered in clothes, dirty towels, food wrappers, and an empty fish tank. Oddly, it had never contained a fish. The other desk has only a desktop computer and tiny, struggling plant growing out of a mason jar. This is the desk Night sits down at. He powers on his computer. 

“Yo, you ready?” Sugar calls from inside the bathroom. 

Night groans, then shuts his computer off before it can boot up. “Yeah.” 

Night and Sugar head down a wide staircase that empties into an enormous hall, swimming with other young people wearing the same linen suits that they are. Not all are blue, some are red, a few are green (including Sugar’s), and only a couple of them are black. 

The hall is lined with various food vendors, there’s a range of cuisine--nearly any option imaginable. The counters are fast, so despite the crowd, there are no lines. Everyone pays by tapping their phones. 

“Kinda feeling like a sushi situation today, what d’you think?” Sugar asks, very obviously checking out two girls grabbing soy sauce from the counter. 

“Why are you looking at those girls?”

“Uh, why would I NOT be looking at them? The hell is wrong with you?”

Night says earnestly, “Oh, I get it now that you want to--”

“--ALRIGHT great.” Sugar shakes his head. “Dude, listen. I’m glad we’re roomin’ together. In fact I even like you a lil bit. Not in that way. You know what I mean. Anyway. I think you’re cool. But I also think you’re a damn freak.” 

Night tries not to laugh. “Is that all?”

“Yeah it is. Now let’s get some fuckin maki.” 

* * * 

Night is trying to stay awake in class, but he’s finding it impossible to care about this kid’s presentation on the code he wrote over the weekend. This class simply could not be more boring. Why can’t he be studying something useful? Another language? Or music? These computer skills are just not practical. No one needs them. 

But boredom is not the only reason Night can’t stay awake in class. It’s also because he doesn’t put forth much effort to sleep at night. Once the sun goes down, Night begins to read. Typically not books, but articles on the internet. Hours pass, he scours the web for information, and his pale eyes melt into the screen. 

“Night, wake up.” 

Night opens his eyes and takes a startled breath. He’s alone in the classroom with his teacher. An older woman, dressed in a smart but relaxed white linen suit. She looks disappointed, and slightly concerned.  

“What happened?” 

“You fell asleep. And then class ended. And you still didn’t move. So here we are.”

“I’m sorry. I was just so disinterested in what was going on. I couldn’t bring myself to pay attention, it was boredom that made me pass out.” Night says this very earnestly, unaware that it’s fairly insulting.

Teacher smiles and nods. She knows Night lives on another planet, and she expects things like this. He’s very bright, but also extremely strange. He seems to have a good heart, but it’s also hard to judge hearts since they’re invisible and not actually related to emotion. She keeps an eye on him.  

“I’m a bit worried about you, Night. I want you to graduate the year with enough knowledge to start building.” 

“Eh, well, you shouldn’t worry about me, Teacher. What we learned this week...I taught myself when I was ten.” 

Teacher laughs. He kinda laughs too. 

She asks, “Will you do something for me?”

“I don’t know.”

She takes a deep breath, thinking. 

“I want you to take your presentation very seriously. I want you to “wow” me. Show your classmates how brilliant you are. I know that you can.”

Night stares, thoughtfully. All his life, his actions have been motivated by an internal compass that he cannot understand or explain. He has always done what he wants, has always says what’s on his mind. Often he’s wrong, and sometimes controversial, but the people around him know him well enough to know that he doesn’t mean it. Most people, anyway. 

While people have allowed the tall, starry-eyed ghost boy to wander and act impulsively wherever he goes (because it’s easier not to question it), he still struggles with being abnormal. He wonders if the reason he can’t sleep at night is because nighttime is the only time that he can detach himself from the people around him. When he can be alone, and feel normal, and imagine different ways of living. 

What if he doesn’t want to build next year?

Maybe there’s a way for him to prove that he can contribute something else.

* * * 

It’s evening, the school day is over. 

Back at their room, Sugar tosses his backpack on top of the pile of junk on his desk. He flings himself onto his bed and immediately starts playing an obnoxiously loud game on his phone. Night is on his computer, writing. Sugar calls out, without moving. 

“Man, what are you doing? Homework? It’s Friday dude.” 

“I’m actually writing you a letter about how much I love you.”

Night’s signature deadpan is so dead that it’s undetectable to the naked eye. Sugar chortles and throws a pillow at Night’s head. He ducks. 

“Dear Sugar, I am deeply enchanted by what a crusty slob you are. Piles of garbage are hot. Call me.” 

“Yo you don’t even understand that I legit get that shit all the time. Those girls today were thinking it.” 

“Oh I don’t doubt it.” Night smirks, Sugar laughs. 

“You’re fuckin weird man.” 

Sugar flips over, texting. Night continues to scroll and type, endlessly. He checks the time again and again. Based on the pandemic...on everything that’s going on...he has calculated that it will happen tonight. He sends an email. He taps his fingers.

“Well I’ma go out. Diamond’s havin’ a party or somethin. You in?” 

Night doesn’t look away from the screen. “Nah, you go on ahead. Have fun.”

Sugar playfully caresses Night’s hair. “You want me to tell Diamond you said hello? I’m sure she...”

Night suddenly looks serious. “Please don’t.” Sugar laughs. 

“Chill dude. Peace.” He leaves.

And with perfect timing.

*ping*  

He receives a message. He takes a deep breath. 

So many late nights of reading, studying, preparing. This message is what he’s been waiting for. 

ADMIN_E: How am I supposed to find you if I don’t know who you are?

Night smiles to himself. Sometimes he can’t read people at all. Sometimes he can read them with incredible clarity. Right now, he can already tell that this girl won’t stop until she finds him.  

He chats with her, back and forth. ADMIN_E and GUEST55. 

*buzz* 

Night looks down at his phone, which doesn’t vibrate often... 

“Julian” 

Except when she gets “certain” texts. Shit. Not good timing.

GUEST55: don’t answer that. He can wait 

Emma ignores Julian. Good. Jesus, what does she see in that nightmare of a human? 

Oh no, wait, it seems like she’s getting scared. Night doesn’t want to scare her. That’s not part of the plan. 

ADMIN_E: ok now you’re starting to scare me. What the hell is going on? Are you watching me?

GUEST55: no, no...Emma, I promise i’ll explain everything. Just not yet 

Night truly doesn’t care what any single person thinks of him. He lives in his own world, where the judgments of others don’t exist. So why is it that suddenly, when it comes to a girl he’s never actually met, he’s starting to care? Is that what this is? Well, he just knows that he doesn’t want her to be afraid of him. 

But he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself either... She has the map now. The rest will come. 

GUEST55: I’ll see you soon Emma.

 ADMIN_E: See you, um, well see you

Strangely, he wants her to know his name. Some piece of her. It’s not that he’s afraid of exposing himself…it’s that he won’t just have to explain his own name, but the names of so many others, and so much more...she’ll have to wait. 

He hesitates, looking around the dark room. His eyes land on the glass jar on his desk. Hm. The little plant does look so unnatural in this world.

GUEST55: my name is Mason. I want you to know that.

Mason. Well, it will have to work for now. 

Night signs out. He walks over to the window, completing his nightly ritual of dragging the tall curtains open.

And then the extraordinary moonlight floods the room like a searchlight beam.  

Outside his window, there is a city that looks nothing like any city we’ve ever seen in the natural world. Roads are raised, buildings are holographic, animated advertisements encircle all infrastructure. The moon is enormous, but there is not a single star. 

Night stares up at the dark sky, after which he was named. Maybe soon she’d be staring at the same one.

[heartthrobcityimagine]

Who Is This??/ Part 5/ Noah Centineo

A/N: Shew, what a week it has been. If anything were to go wrong it happened this week! Anyway, hope you guys enjoy!  

Warning: strong language and sexual content. OFF WE GO! 

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Where we left off last in part 4: 

Slowly, he pulls away and you can’t help the whine that slips from your lips. His forehead pressed against yours, both of you panting. “I’ll see you later , yeah?” Licking your lips, “Definitely.” He places another quick kiss to your lips and makes a hasty retreat out the door. Your finger touch your still tingling lips. You could only imagine what would have happened if he would’ve stayed….

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 OH MY GOD YOU HAVE TO  TELL JACE!!!

You race to your phone swiping it from the counter and fly over to the couch. You plop down on it and immediately facetime Jace.

 *Beeeoooop* *Beeeoop* *Beeeooop* 

“Oh c'mon Jace.” Any other time he would answer before the first ring barely made it through. 

*DING* 

His face pops up on to the screen and you gasp. His hair was disheveled, lips puffy and blood red, and his eyes were wide. You then realize just why it was took him so long to answer. 

"Jace....... what were you doing? Actually, better question... WHO were you doing?" " I could ask you the same thing!" he rebuttals. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the tiny square in the upper part of your screen. Just like Jace your hair was in a million different directions, your lips were beet red and swollen, a perfect reminder of just what you and Noah had been doing.

 “Nuh-uh, you know who I was with, now spill.”  "Okay, okay," he laughs. "So, you remember a few months ago when I met that really hot guy on set?" "The one you said was a tool?" 

He was silent for a moment, " Yeah.... that one. His name is Travis. Well anyway, he asked me for drinks, he's actually quite interesting really. He has 2 beagle puppies that he's working to support, insert swoon here, and he's got a sleeve of tattoos that are for his family..." 

"Jace, you're rambling babe."

" I can't help it! ANYWAY, we went for drinks and one lead to about 4, 4 then lead to us somehow ending up at my apartment and that somehow lead to him lic...." 

"OKAY JACE!! DO NOT FINISH THAT SENTENCE!" At this point you did not want to even know what had happened. He gives you a huge grin. 

" So did you and Noah fuck then? I mean you look properly fucked.." Slapping your hand over your face as it grows insanely warm. " OH MY GOD JACE! What is with you and my sex life??? For your information we did not..." 

" Well, you did something because one's hair does not simply get to be that messed up and not have some sort of naughty background story involved" "For the love of... we just made out on my couch... and against the wall... then he left.”

 " YOU LET HIM LEAVE??? ARE YOU INSANE??" " I've known him for less than a month Jace. You know what happened the last time I dove head first into something like this.." "Yeah honey, but I don't think Noah is like that." " I don't know. I didn't think that about Tye either." there's a heavy silence between the two of you. " and I can't lose you like that again either" he says sadly. You give him a small smile, "Never." 

There’s a heavy silence between you two,  "ANYWAY, there is going to be an end of shoot party on Friday, you wanna go with me?" Jace asks, breaking the silence. You think over it for a moment, it was Tuesday and you had a performance day on Friday. 

" I don't know Jace, I've got a performance for class on Friday and I'll be exhausted. I kinda wanted to just chill this weekend?" He sighs heavily, shaking his head at you. "Babe, you'll smash the performance you always do, and you always chill on weekends. Plus if you don't come you'll miss seeing Noah..." That was quite the incentive to go.. Noah hadn't mentioned the party, but then again you weren't exactly focused on much other than each other. 

With a heavy sigh you agree reluctantly. " PERFECT! I'll see you friday at 9! Love ya BISH!" You end your facetime and flop to your back, pulling the blanket you and Noah discarded on the floor over you, replaying the Harry Potter movie you and Noah attempted to watch earlier. Just as before, you quickly fall asleep.

 *PING* 

You groggily open your eyes. Stretching, you reach for your phone.

 Noah❤️ : Just wanted to say that I had a great time last night, especially the ending, hope to have a repeat of that soon? ;). 

Heat rose to your face, he wasn't even here and he had your face on fire. Your fingers circle your screen thinking of what to reply. " Fuck yes..." No, too forward. " Maybe.." Nope, that was false, you definitely wanted a repeat.

 " I hope so too. :)," you press send. 

Noah❤️ : Actually, I forgot to mention it last night, I was little occupied ;) but there's this party on Friday.. was hoping you'd go with me? 

FUCK! You knew this would happen. 

" I'm sorry, I actually told Jace I'd go with him already..." you reply. 

Noah❤️ : :( Damn it. Well at least I'll still get to see your gorgeous face. I guess I'll see you Friday then?" 

" Absolutely. " Suddenly you found yourself kind of excited for Friday to arrive. 

The rest of the week went by quickly, you had spent most the time practicing for your performance on Friday. You and Noah hadn't talked much, he was busy doing photoshoots and you had been trying to focus on school. Jace had been hanging out with Travis all week and for some reason was very intent on telling you every. single. detail. even the ones you did NOT want to know. Before you knew it, it was Friday morning and you were heading to class. You breezed through the performance and finally it was time to go home. 

It was almost 5 by the time you made it back home. You had 4 hours until Jace would be there to get you. Perfect, enough time for a quick nap.. 

*TING* *TING* *TING*

Your eyes shoot open, grabbing your phone, a message from Jace: Hey babes! I’m getting ready now and I’ll be over! Love ya!   

It was almost 7 o'clock. You had fallen asleep for over 2 hours!! You jump up and run to the shower. Wafting smells of vanilla and strawberries fills your tiny bathroom as you step out of the shower. You wrap yourself in a towel and walk to your closet. Sure enough, shoved to the back was a lacey black, thigh length dress. You had gotten it a year ago after Jace had forced you to try it on. It had showed off your curves and was just short enough to be sexy. Looking at the floor of your closet you search for your heels. Amid the multitude of sneakers and sandals was the pair you were looking for. They were about 3 inches high, black with a lace top that would match your dress. You pull them and your dress out and toss them on your bed. 

Standing in front of your mirror you let out a puff of air, let's get to work. You curl your hair in soft waves. You apply a light layer of foundation, some eyeshadow, just enough to make your your eyes pop, and a bright red lipstick. 

A loud banging comes from your front door making you jump. Jace must’ve forgotten his key. You tap your phone screen, it was only 8:30, Jace was never early for anything in his life, but I guess he was pretty excited for tonight. “JESUS JACE I'M COMING!!” your voice echoing through your apartment. 

You slip your heels on quickly and rush to the door, grabbing your keys and purse on the way. You fling your door open, coming to a dead stop. Instead of Jace standing there like you had assumed, a familiar pair of pair of eyes stared back at you.  "Holy hell, you look amazing. " "What the fuck are you doing here Tye?" " I had been around and thought I would stop by." 

"Oh you thought you would just stop by?!? Are you kidding me?." Scoffing you go to slam the door but a hand stops you. 

" Oh c'mon (Y/N), that was over a year ago. Can't you just get over it already?" 

"Get over it?!? You ruined my life Tye, I almost dropped out of school because of you. So, no. I will not just get over it. Fuck off." You slam the door in his face. Tears began streaming down your face, you grab your phone and call Jace. 

"Hey babe!! I'm on my way! I'm so excite.... wait, what's wrong?" He asks when he hears your sniffles. " Tye showed up at my door just now Jace." you whisper, still in disbelief that he would even have the audacity to show up here. "What the fuck do you mean he showed up at your door? Does the asshole have a fucking death wish?" " I don't know, I slammed the door in his face before he could say much." Jace cackles at that, "I've taught you well young grasshopper." that makes you giggle a little. He always knew how to help you feel better. He had been your saving grace when Tye did what he did. 

"Jace, I'm really sorry but I don't think I'm going to go tonight. I've already ruined my make up, and to be quite honest I just dont think I can." " That's alright honey, I will come over and we can have a girls night." you could hear the disappointment in his voice, you knew he was excited for tonight. "No no no. I am not ruining your night. You've been excited about this all week, you go. I'll be okay here, just going to take a bath and go to bed I think." " Babe, no. I don't want a repeat of last time that douche tried this shit." " Jace, I'm fine really. Please just go to the party and have fun. Plus, I'm sure you look amazing and I know damn well Travis is going to be there. So go. " "I do look pretty good." He says laughing, "I'll see you tomorrow and we'll have pamper day?" he asks. "I would love that." "Love you brat." "I love you too Jace." 

You hang up with Jace, walking back to your room. You change out of the dress sadly, hanging it back in the closet. If you were being honest you had been looking forward to the party too. The closer it got the more excited you had become. You look in the mirror, the girl you seen was someone you recognized but hoped you would never have to see again. She looked defeated, black mascara running down her face.

 You shake your head, you pick up your phone. You scroll down to Noah's contact, should you tell him you weren't coming? You decide against it, laying your phone down on your dresser. You grab one of Jace's shirts he had left and make your way to your bathroom to run a bath. 

An hour later, the water was turning cold so you decided to get out. Drying off and pulling on Jace's shirt, you go grab your phone and plop down on your bed, turning your TV on and unlocking your phone. Your eyes widen, you had 5 texts from Noah and 3 missed calls.

Noah❤️ : Hey, where are you? 

Noah❤️ : Are you okay? Did you come? I haven't seen you or Jace?

Noah❤️ : I'm getting kind of worried here... are you okay?

Noah❤️ : Babe, did something happen? Did I do something?

Noah❤️ : I'm sorry if I did something?? Please answer. 

A sharp pain shoots through your chest. Maybe you should have told him what was going on, you just didn’t want to ruin his night either. You didn't intentionally mean to ignore him. He was so sweet, checking on you. Your heart rate began to race. Anytime you thought about Noah  butterflies swam in your stomach. You could find yourself easily falling for him. Who are you kidding, you already were, quickly. 

You were in the middle of replying to Noah when a loud knock came from your front door. You groan, you swore if it was Tye you were calling the damn cops. He didn't know when to quit. 

You reluctantly get out of bed and walk to the door.Sighing, you really needed to install a peephole. It was the first thing Jace had told you when you moved in. He said incase "any fuckboys try to raid you". You had laughed at the time but right about now you were regretting not listening to him. 

You slowly open the door, hoping and praying that it wasn't Tye. Your sad eyes meet blazing ones filled with anger and concern. 

"Noah?"

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OKAY! There is part 5! We finally got some Jace action back, I think I just love his character, reminds me of a friend I use to go to school with. This part we got a glimpse into our main characters past, and can we just love on Noah for a minute. Like, he is honestly just such a wonderful human being, I can’t help but show that here too! Also, could you imagine opening the door to that beautiful creature standing there, I’d pass out. Next part will be a bit longer! We will finally find out just what in the hell happened! 

As always let me know what you think! 

[writerunsolved]

The Drunken Mistake - Ch. 1

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: F/M

Fandom: Real Person Fiction

Relationship: Tom Hiddleston/Reader

Genres: Fluff and Humor

Language: English

Chapters: 3/?

Summary:  You're a young up-and-coming singer based in London who has just released her first album.

After a wild night at the VMAs and some heavy partying and drinking at the afterparty, you write and publish a drunken tweet about a certain celebrity and one of their friends. You only realise what you've done the next day when a slew of texts and calls wakes you up to a dreadful but expected hangover. You immediately delete the tweet, but you're left to deal with the consequences. A public apology would probably be enough to make everything go away if you hadn't been invited to a movie premiere where said celebrity is most certainly going to be.

You decide that the best course of action will be to try and avoid them, but your plans almost never go the way you want them to.

Chapter One - Never Tweet Your Deepest Fantasies

-

The light streaming in through the window right onto your face, though annoying, wasn’t what woke you up.

It was instead the insistent vibration of your phone, sitting deceivingly innocently under your pillow and making your brain rattle in your skull. The frankly inordinate amount of alcohol you had consumed the night before certainly wasn’t helping, either.

Resigned to having to face your hangover eventually, willing or not, you finally took out the phone and through bleary eyes, you saw you had a disconcerting number of missed phone calls and messages from your manager; in addition, your phone kept blowing up with social media notifications in your hand.

Panicked and confused, you tried to remember the night before.

You’d left the house quite early in the afternoon, dressed to the nines and wearing make-up, all thanks to your stylist Nadia and your make-up and hair expert Linda, and a car had picked you up to bring you to the VMAs where the red carpet had been waiting for you. When you’d first started attending big events like this, you had soon realised what a long day they made: the red carpet usually started pretty early in the afternoon, and by the time the actual event took place you would have been standing on high heels for several hours already. You’d grown tired of wearing them almost immediately, so now when you attended events of this kind you would usually swear off the stilettos and go for a trendy pair of flats.

This time had been different, though. It was an important night, and you wanted to look your best. Moreover, it had been a while since you’d worn heels, and you’d forgotten the actual pain they caused you. So, as with any other event, you’d been dropped off at the venue and walked the red carpet while a never-ending number of pictures of you was being taken and after what felt like an entire day and night, you’d finally gotten off your feet and taken your seat in the audience, not too far away from the stage.

You could still feel the phantom pain of the shoes where they’d scraped off your skin behind your ankles, you reached your hand to lightly touch the spot and moaned in pain, both because of your feet and because of the sharp pang the movement caused to your hungover brain.

You laid back down with your head on your pillow and tried to go through the rest of the night. You immediately remembered winning the award for Best New Artist and happiness pervaded you once again, you still couldn’t believe that had happened! You sought to remember where you’d put the award. You looked for it around the room and noticed it on the floor, right next to the door, propped to keep it open. You reflexively slapped your forehead in reprimand - which only worsened the headache - that was no way to treat your first important award!

After receiving your reward, and hopefully not making a fool of yourself during your acceptance speech, things got a little muddled. You remembered wanting to celebrate and leaving with some of the guys in your staff and some other artists who’d been attending the event. Drinks had begun flowing, which was exactly why your memories were so hazy.

You attempted to squeeze more memories out, but you’d drank so much your brain must have gone into overdrive at some point. Normally, you weren’t one to overdo it with alcohol, but it had been a special night and the award had come as a huge surprise, so it hadn’t been hard to convince you to make toast after toast. Everyone around you had been having fun, it was only natural for you to get carried away with the euphoria of your first real award.

You couldn’t remember anything else after that, so you still had no idea what the reason for your social media blow-up might be. You reassured yourself with the thought that it would just be some kind of article full of embarrassing pictures of you completely dishevelled and visibly drunk. Sure, it wasn’t ideal and it would leave you ashamed for the rest of time, but it would blow over in relatively no time when one of the Kardashians would be spotted buying a pair or jeans or something equally trivial. You shot a quick text to your manager Nina to let her know you were awake and alive, and resolved to find out what was going on as soon as possible. You were just about to open up Twitter when another text from Nina made the matter that much more pressing. It read: “You need to take that tweet down RN!!!!!!”.

You immediately sat up, headache be damned, and scrambled to open the Twitter app. Without bothering to scroll through your timeline, you went directly to your own profile and right there it was, mocking you and punishing you for your questionable life choices, your most retweeted and liked tweet:

[ID: Displayed name: A WINNER @ THE VMAS

Twitter handle: @trebledwoman

Tweet content: h cmoe on who wpldnt want 2 be RAWED by t hiddleston &chremsworth at the sme time?? ? ? if yoy wouldnt ure either a coward or yur lyin]

Dread immediately filled your lungs, you wanted to close your eyes and stop seeing what you’d done but the sheer disbelief kept them wide open, staring unblinkingly at the screen while your brain tried to process what was happening.

You couldn’t fathom doing something so stupid and reckless. It was one thing to be caught after a night of enthusiastic celebrations, but involving others in the show business industry was an entirely different ordeal. Bigger celebrities than you had gone down for much less and putting your whole career at risk because of one night of heavy drinking was the stupidest thing you could have ever done. Seemingly on their own, your fingers started scrolling through the responses you’d gotten and you could see people responding with memes, some even hilarious, but you weren’t really in the mood for a laugh at the moment. Others loudly announced having taken screenshots and having saved the tweet on the internet archive. You weren’t exactly surprised, the internet was forever after all. Even though several hours had passed since you’d posted it, and it was obviously too late for it not to have already spread all over social media, you deleted the tweet without a second thought.

You exited the app and called Nina.

“Jesus, finally! Have you taken that shit down?!” was her answer.

You brushed back your hair restlessly and replied with a sigh “Yes. God Nina, that was so stupid!! What am I going to do? This is a disaster, right? How could I possibly recover from this?! And I just got my first award, too, why did I have to drink so mu-”

“Honey, honey, listen to me. You need to calm down.” she interrupted you “People seem to have taken it as a huge joke, and there was no public reaction from neither Chris Hemsworth nor Tom Hiddleston.” she laughed nervously “I know it was up for several hours, but it’s good that you deleted it, and you will have to publish an apology as soon as possible.”

You took a deep breath and tried to unclench your jaw. Finally, you closed your eyes and said “Okay, so that’s our action plan for now? A public apology? And then what?”

“And then we hope the Buzzfeed articles will be humorous rather than accusing, and we keep on making music, ok?” you could feel and picture her warm smile through the phone “Seriously, we can get through this. Your career has just started and I have no intention of letting you go just yet.”

You’d really lucked out with Nina, she was such a supportive and incredible woman. As soon as she’d discovered one of your songs online, she’d seen a talent in you that not even you’d known you had. You felt a wave of guilt come over you, this was going to affect her too. “I’m so sorry, Nina. I shouldn’t have put you through this.” You shook your head resignedly “It’s one thing to make a mistake, but to let it reflect so badly on everyone around me… I really hope you can forgive me.”

“Oh, sweetheart…” he voice was kind “Don’t say that. I told you, we’ll recover from this. It’s not as bad as it feels right now, and don’t doubt for one minute that I will eternally make fun of you for it.”

That pulled a laugh out of you, she joined in then continued “Tom Hiddleston, though, really? I can understand Chris Hemsworth, he has muscles for days, but I would never have guessed you would be into the unassuming British type.”

A blush stained your cheeks, you were grateful she wasn’t there to see it or she would have never let you live it down. “Hey now,” you started defensively but with mirth “he’s cultured and polite. Plus have you seen his pecs? I bet you haven’t, you huge lesbian.”

Nina let out a rambunctious laugh that lasted several seconds, then said “Oh well, I guess you’re right.”

There was a beat of silence or two, then Nina concluded “I really have to go now, honey.” you never got tired of the pet name “As soon as you’re done writing down an apology, send it to me and I’ll let you know if you’re okay to publish it.”

You nodded, then remembering she couldn’t see it, you told her “Will do. Thank you so much, Nina. See you soon.”

“Later, sweetie.” with that she hung up.

You sat there for another beat, legs still half-covered by the duvet and phone in hand. You took a huge breath that filled you up from your shoulders to your abdomen, trying to gather the energy to face what was showing all the signs to be an interminably long day.

Your head was swarming with possible ways to go about apologising, you wondered whether to address part of it directly to the objects of your tweet or if it would be better to keep it vague and only concentrate on your behaviour. On one hand, you felt like you owed an apology to Tom Hiddleston and Chris Hemsworth for objectifying them like that, on the other you were conscious of the fact that that wasn’t the only reason why you were so ashamed of the tweet.

You regretted drinking so much. In hindsight, you realised that you’d put yourself in danger by being so reckless and that if you intended to pursue your career seriously and to win more prestigious awards, you couldn’t resort to that kind of behaviour again. At least it was a lesson learnt.

You put those thoughts aside, dwelling on guilt wasn’t going to help matters. For now, it would be better to concentrate on the task at hand and to look to the future. Lesson learnt, lesson ended.

You got up from the bed and crossed the room barefoot, on the way outside the bedroom you grabbed the award from where it was still standing up propped against the door and brought it with you to the kitchen through the dining room. The first thing you’d done with the earnings from your first album under your new record label had been to buy a small apartment in a building not too far away from central London. One of the things you’d hated the most about renting was the uncertainty of not having a real home that was your own, the possibility that at any moment you would have to pack up all your stuff and move away and start all over again. Furthermore, you loved reading and owning books, and when you were still renting it was impossible for you to maintain a decent library.

You thought back to first joining your sister in this great big city, and how terrified of the future you were. To be fair, the fear had never really gone away, but that was just the kind of person you were. Your sister had already been living in London for several years, she had a great job and all her life together, and she’d been pushing for you to move here too almost since the beginning. You had preferred to wait, though. You’d only just finished university and felt like you needed more time to figure yourself out, but eventually, the time had finally felt right and now here you were.

The small planner you’d been looking for was exactly where you expected it to be on the kitchen counter. You’d left it there before leaving for the VMAs and in it was basically your whole life. You had a detailed calendar of all your work and social commitments and several blank pages to use should the need arise. That was exactly why you’d been looking for it. You knew the apology would have to be published online and rewritten digitally, but pen and paper always helped you to better put your head in order.

You put down the award you still had in your hand right next to the planner and started idly flipping through this month's appointments, searching for a blank page to use and already wording the beginning of the apology in your head. You’d calmed down quite a bit since first waking up, and even your hangover headache seemed to be dwindling down on its own, so you felt much more centred about your current situation. And then you saw it -

September 4th - precisely one week from now - “New Marvel movie premiere”.

It came back to you in a flash, and really it was entirely your fault for forgetting, that in a week you would have to attend the premiere of a new Marvel film for the soundtrack of which one of your new songs had been chosen. How could you have possibly forgotten having written a song for a Marvel movie?! Alcohol was officially cancelled.

You felt a wave of nausea hit you, either from the residual hangover or from the realisation that you would come face to face with the flesh-and-blood consequences of your actions in a week from now. You couldn’t remember specifically what movie the London premiere was for, but even if it wasn’t another Thor movie there was simply no universe in which Tom Hiddleston and Chris Hemsworth wouldn’t be attending.

You grabbed a glass from where it was drying on the side of the sink and filled it to the brim with the coldest water that came from the tap, and while you were downing it in one single go, you made a resolution.

There was absolutely no way for you to skip the premiere, but you had to avoid Tom Hiddleston and Chris Hemsworth at any and all cost.

Chapter 2