#this is why I posted yesterday. today was posting day and I hadn’t uploaded that one!!!

[abilai]

Shizun…. Kiss me shizun

[luckbealincoln]

Best Kept Secret

chapter twelve : pretend

THIS SERIES HAS BEEN MOVED AND RE-UPLOADED TO ANOTHER ACCOUNT. WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE. THIS POST STILL EXISTS AS AN ARCHIVE BUT THIS ACCOUNT IS NO LONGER ACTIVE!!

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 4.4k

summary : reader plays pretend

warnings, etc. : language, angst, references to sex

Two days.

That’s what you’re willing to give yourself. Two days to get over it. One to get it all out of your system and one to pull yourself together. 

So you need to get through day one. 

Which is going fine until you step out of the closet and into the main room and you look for a pair of scissors, opting to just cut yourself out of your dress from yesterday rather than try and unlace it yourself. It’s not like you’ve ever worn the same dress twice anyway. 

And then you're faced with your reflection. 

You remember thinking you’d looked like a stranger when you first arrived on Naboo. It’s like that. You stare at your reflection as you carefully cut away the dress, you look unfamiliar, the bruises on your waist are starting to yellow and fade, you trace your fingers across them gently and you sort of wish they wouldn’t heal. It’s the only physical trace of him left on your body. 

You don’t bother covering them when Elaine and Lysa walk in. You can’t seem to find the energy to care, if they notice they don’t say anything as you quickly wave them off, insisting you don’t feel well and want to spend today in bed. 

You don’t look to see if there’s a glint of silver outside of the door. You know there is. 

So you do exactly what you told the girls you’d do and you retreat back to the closet, crawling into the blankets, staring at the door. Normally you’d push down any thoughts that might be creeping in right now, but why does it matter anymore. 

“I don’t want you.”

That’s what he had said. 

Was it so wrong to want him to come through that door and crawl into your makeshift bed with you? You don’t think it makes you weak, it just makes you… human. You’ve spent your entire life being turned away by the people who were supposed to keep you safe. Your family first, sending you here, to this nightmare. Then your husband, sending you away until he decides that you’ve become useful. And now Mando. 

But this hurts more than the first two. 

As much as you didn’t agree with it, you knew your parents had thought they were doing the right thing when they sent you away. And you couldn’t care less what Kodo thought of you. 

Mando had been kind. 

He had been your friend.

Had he? He seemed to think he hadn’t but maybe it was just a one sided friendship. That still counts, right?

Bodyguard, rival, friend, protector, confidant, lover, nothing.

You decide lover was the right word. You didn’t necessarily love him. Love is a very volatile word. He had loved you, physically that is. 

“I was… bored. You were entertainment.”

Of course he hadn’t loved you in any other way, only physically. He had made love to you. 

Now he didn’t want you. 

He had grown tired of you so quickly. 

You shake off the thought. No sense thinking like that, you weren’t a helpless victim here. You knew that it wasn’t a permanent arrangement. You just hadn’t expected it to be over so soon. It was bound to happen eventually, it’s actually probably better that it happened now. Before you got too attached. 

Were you already too attached? 

Right now, here in the darkness of the closet, wounds still fresh it feels worse than any break up you ever went through back on Hoth, and most of those relationships had been much longer than this short lived affair. 

You had liked him. 

There’s no harm in admitting that now that it’s over. You had not loved him, maybe you had simply liked him. You had a crush on your friend, that’s completely normal, especially considering you were doing plenty of other things together. 

It feels nice to admit that. 

Like a weight has been lifted off your shoulder. Of course it doesn’t matter because there’s still a million other things holding you down right now but it’s a brief sense of relief. 

You had liked the Mandalorian, as more than a friend. 

Nothing’s gonna happen with him anymore so you can admit that to yourself now. 

It’s good to get that out of the way, it’ll help you get over this faster. 

Except it doesn’t really, your relief is brief as you burst into tears, burying your face in a pillow for the rest of the day. It hits you like a ton of bricks, you’re finally willing to admit that you may have had genuine feelings for him and he’s already moved on. It makes you feel pathetic, it makes you cry harder. But that’s okay, because that’s what day one was for, getting it all out. 

When you wake up, eyes red and puffy, you’re ready for the next stage in your plan. It’s time to recover from yesterday. You send the girls away again like clockwork as you stretch in front of the mirror. You’re more than capable of getting through this. He’s out there, and the longer you hide in here from him the worse it’s gonna be. So one more day, you can find some busy work to keep your mind occupied. 

You organize the closet. It’s massive, so you search through the drawers, trying to figure out what goes where. You open one of the drawers tucked in the back and you can’t help but gawk at the contents.

Pants.

You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed pants. Honestly you didn’t hate the dresses but you were getting a little sick of being dolled up beyond belief every single day. This entire time there’s been a whole drawer full of trousers you could have been wearing, you slip on the first pair you find and after a few more minutes of searching you find a drawer full of simple cotton tunics. It’s probably the most comfortable you’d been in weeks. 

It’s such a breath of fresh air you wonder why you hadn’t looked for simpler clothes sooner. Now when you walk to the mirror it is a familiar figure. 

It’s you. 

It’s almost enough to bring a smile to your face. 

Almost. 

As you organize the drawers you're pleased to find a lot more pants and shirts, you set them aside in piles, you were going to convince the girls to let you wear these outside your room, even if it was for just a day or two out of the week. You never saw anyone anyway, there was no need for you to be wearing gowns and heels to the library to read everyday. The only person you see is the Mandalorian. 

“I don’t want you.”

You couldn’t become any less attractive to him at this point so who cares. Besides, you like the way you look in these clothes, it’s how you used to dress at home. It was too cold for frilly dresses and it would have been impractical to get so done up on a day to day basis. Something about the familiarity of it all seems to help push you into the next stage of grief because suddenly you’re angry at him. 

What gave him the right to do what he’s done? To make you like him just so he could get his dick wet? If he had wanted that he could have just had it, you had been rather attracted to him physically early on, it probably would have been better that way but no, he had to go and make it personal. 

So you’re angry. 

And not just petty surface level anger, this is something new. Something you don’t even feel towards Kodo. This is deep rooted and raw. He had cut you open and laid you bare for him to see, he went through to pick and choose what parts he wanted and left you to try and survive with what remained. 

And what remained was furious. 

It doesn’t feel as good as it did last time you hated him. Last time it was almost fun because you hated him for being annoying. Now there is a deep sorrow in your anger. Last time there was the entertaining prospect of scheming his downfall, and there was teasing and conversation. This anger eats away at your insides. It doesn’t demand satisfaction, it just rests in your stomach and consumes you. 

It consumes you so much that you feel sick. You don’t know when you sat down on the floor but when you come to your senses it’s dark out. You push open the windows. Desperate to get some air into the room, it works, for a moment. But everything is too much right now and without thinking you decide you need to get out of here, go get a book, maybe one of the boring history books Mando’s always reading. You pull open the doors to your chambers without a second thought and you’re taken aback by the sight of what stands before you. 

Actually, what sits before you. The Mandalorian is sitting on the floor. His back resting on your door, at least it was before you opened it. He’s looking up at you and you know it’s impossible with the helmet but you swear he looks embarrassed. 

Your instinct is to crack a joke, or at the very least ask what he’s doing, it’s the middle of the night, he never stands guard over night. 

But that isn’t your relationship anymore. So you just sidestep him and make your way to the library, you don’t protest when he follows behind you. It’s the strangest thing but in the two days without him you had missed your shadow. The presence of him walking a few steps behind, you hadn’t even realized that was something you’d grown fond of. You shake the thought out of your head as you descend the stairs. 

You don’t acknowledge him and you don’t acknowledge the way your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest. This is a quick in and out task, you’ll get a book to help relax your mind so you can sleep. 

You squint in the darkness of the shelves. Maker, you should have brought a glowrod, or a lamp with you at the very least. It’s useless, you can’t make out any of the titles so instead you grab the two books off one of the tables that you’d seen him reading a week ago. You shove them under your arm and hurry back to your room. Neither of you say a word about the encounter as you shut the door behind you. 

You hear the soft clunk of metal on wood just before you shut yourself in the closet. 

His helmet leaned on the door again. 

Huh. Maybe Kodo had recently requested he guard you at night as well. You aren’t going to ask him what he’s doing. You aren’t going to do anything. 

You close the closet door. You turn on one dim lap as you put on pajamas and sit in your blankets, picking up the first book to take your mind off things. 

A Deep Dive Into the History of Classic Ships and Speeders

Yeah you’re not reading that. You’re bored just looking at it so you toss it to the side and hope the other book is less of a dud. it’s bookmarked near the end and you worry that maybe he’s still reading this one but then you remember he doesn’t care about you so why should you care for him. Your eyes scan the title. 

Wild Flowers & Flora of Naboo : A Beginner’s Guide for the Identification of the Planets Native Plants

You think back to when you had asked him so many questions when he’d taken you to the garden and he never knew the answers. You always thought he seemed upset with himself over that. 

This is what he had been reading all those quiet days together in the library. You flip to the bookmark. You recognize the flower being showcased on the page immediately. You had pointed the patch of them out because the petals were an identical match for the shade of pink your dress had been that day. 

Your heart skips a beat. Which makes you feel sick. 

Even after he ended things he’s still messing with your head. 

Then again, this is not a small book by any means and the bookmarked page is near the end. He must have read quite a lot of it…

No. 

No doing this. Hoping. Not anymore. You can admit to yourself now that you liked him, and had a little crush. But he hadn’t liked you back. He didn’t want you, he was just bored. You need to remember that.

You don’t feel like reading anymore. 

So you let your mind go blank as you lay down and close your eyes, hoping for a dreamless sleep. 

Of course you aren’t that lucky. 

And even worse is the contents of your dream. 

You wish they were carnal and needy like they usually are, you would trade the dream you have for a hundred gut wrenchingly painful erotic dreams.  

Because this dream is warm, and soft, and above all this dream is familiar. 

This dream is kisses on your thighs, and they aren’t sexual, they don’t insist on more. They’re soft and chaste and leave a lingering scratch of stubble. 

This dream is him embracing you. Holding you like he did when you gave him his birthday. 

And he doesn’t ask for more, he just holds you, his hands roam your back but they don’t push for anything other than your company. 

This dream is him sitting across from you in the library in silence. But the silence isn’t forced, it’s comfortable and domestic. And you both read your respective books as the sunlight shines in through the windows of the nook. 

And worst of all this dream is the garden. It’s him giving you the one thing you’d wanted since you were a little girl, real flowers, and playing the game, and sitting in the gazebo watching the pond ripple. 

It’s promises of more good days, it’s books with little messages scrawled inside and it’s whispers in Mando’a. 

When you wake there’s a dull ache in your chest. You’ve always slept alone yet your makeshift bed feels emptier than ever.

The girls dress you in silence. Like they can sense something is wrong. 

You don’t want to leave. You don’t want to have to face him but you know it’s inevitable. So you suck it up. You’ll do what you’ve always done and you’ll go to the library and read. 

And you won’t look at him. You won’t talk to him. You won’t even acknowledge that he’s there. 

You give yourself one last look in the mirror. Elaine and Lysa really matched your mood with the dark gray dress you find yourself in. You look empty. Like there isn’t any life behind your eyes. 

You have to look away from your hollow reflection. 

Taking a deep breath you open the doors and there he is. As constant as ever he stands against the opposite wall from your door and you give him no more than a glance as you turn on your heel towards the library. 

You can do this, this is simple and easy and you are more than capable of handling this. 

His presence is stifling. 

You can’t escape the feeling of his eyes on you and if you don’t think of something fast you’re gonna snap at him and you know you can’t take another argument right now. 

Make a list. 

Stick to a list. 

Walk, sit, read. It's simple, you can do that. 

You manage to walk to the library with no issues; it's the second task on your list that causes immediate problems. 

Because your instinct is to sit in the nook, you walk there purely on muscle memory. But the moment you look at it your brain short circuits. 

Metal, gunpowder, leather. 

There’s suddenly a lump in your throat. 

“Are you paying attention, mesh’la?”

Your bodice must be laced too tight. Your breath picks up as your heart threatens to burst from your chest. The feeling of phantom touches roaming your body, gloved hands hiking up your skirt, is suffocating. 

“What is it, copikla?”

You need to breathe. You’ve only just started the day, you’re pleading with your lungs to take in air, your eyes locked on the nook. He has to know what’s got you rattled, he’s standing right behind you. 

Why did you leave your room? You weren’t ready for this, two days wasn’t enough, how are you supposed to deal with the million different thoughts that are screaming for the spotlight right now in your mind? One thought seems to be pushing itself to the front, demanding your attention. 

What if no one ever makes you feel like that again?

You can’t cry. He’ll look at you like you’re pathetic if you cry at the sight of somewhere he fucked you. That’s all he did, for Makers sake, he fucked you. 

It shouldn’t feel like a place where he loved you. 

When you close your eyes you can feel the stubble pressing against your inner thigh accompanied by a kiss. 

Stars, keep your eyes open. 

You finally remember how to breathe but the breaths come out short and shallow and you need to come up with an escape plan or something because otherwise you’ll be petrified in place for the rest of the day. 

Suddenly you don’t need a plan though. 

Because there’s a hand on your lower back. 

His hand. 

It gently pushes you to a different part of the library. He doesn’t say anything, the modulator doesn’t crackle, he just guides you to a different spot. A chair and a table, the nook is out of sight from here and you can breathe properly again. 

His hand is gone too soon as he gently pushes down on your shoulders to make you sit. His touches are featherlight, like you’re made of glass. Right now you might be. He takes a step back and you regain your composure like it never happened. 

Walk, sit, read. 

Well, you really fucked up the second task on your list. 

And you don’t do well on the third. 

You reach towards the closest shelf and grab the first book your fingers touch. It’s some sort of mystery novel, you can’t focus on the words. Your brain feels fried and you’re still processing the last few minutes. He’s leaning against one of the shelves, his helmet facing away, almost like he’s giving you privacy to collect yourself. 

You take a deep breath and let your eyes scan the page but you just can’t bring yourself to read. Your mind is too foggy, your heart still racing, you sigh as you set the book down on the table. 

You need a simpler task. Something that will occupy your brain enough that you don’t have to think of anything else but doesn’t require too much critical thinking. You turn to face Mando directly for the first time since your… break up? Is that what it’s called when you weren’t necessarily romantically involved but were friends who were physically involved but also you might have romantic feelings for him? 

Now you’re just confusing yourself. 

It doesn’t matter because you’re looking at him and you immediately recognize that his posture is different. The two of you have spent a lot of time staring at each other, you know how he stands. Tall and proud, always. 

But not now, now he looks like a scolded child, staring out a window to avoid meeting your gaze lest you reprimand him further. 

You really want to hate him. You want to hate him so badly right now but it’s like trying to hate a wounded puppy. 

How is he so damn expressive behind a layer of steel? 

You need to speak to him. 

If he’s going to insist on being your bodyguard you’re going to have to learn to live with each other in this new dynamic he’s created. 

So you need to speak to him. 

Rip off the bandaid, why wait any longer? It's going to happen eventually. It should be something thoughtful and well articulated. 

“Could you get Leo for me?” Your voice is hoarse from sitting in silence for two days and the words tumble from your lips before you can stop them and he’s quick to nod and rush out. 

Bodyguard, rival, friend, protector, confidant, lover, guy who you’ve had mind blowing sex with that you’re suddenly nervous to ask simple things from. 

Maker, you’re a mess. 

Alarmingly fast he’s back with Leodall hot on his heels.

“My lady, how may I be of service.” Always straight to the point with him.

“Could you bring me a book from my quarters, the one on ships, and some parchment and pens please?”

“Right away ma’am.” And as quickly as he arrived he’s gone. 

This is the part where Mando usually asks what you’re up to. Except he doesn’t. 

So he’ll touch you and help you when you're frozen in time staring at the scene of one of your sexual adventures on the verge of a nervous breakdown, but he won’t ask what you plan on doing with his book. 

This new situation is going to be way harder to navigate. 

You look to see what the Mandalorian seems so fascinated by outside the window but it’s just sky and clouds. 

Maybe your new situation is avoiding conversation. 

That’s probably why he had ushered you away from the nook. Not because he cared but because he didn’t want to talk about it. 

Okay, you can do that. Avoid confrontation at all costs. 

It’s probably for the best anyway. 

When Leo comes back with your requested items you thank him as he leaves and you open to a random page and start trying to copy the exact images of the ship. 

Busy work.

It’s boring in the beginning. Mindless scribbling to keep your brain occupied as you try to sketch every detail you can. Eventually it’s almost fun, seeing how closely you can get them to look to the original image, you draw dozens of ships, occupying most of your day as you proudly spread them out on the table.

Every so often you’ll catch a glint of silver and you know he’s watching you, you never turn to meet his gaze.

You can pretend he isn’t. That’s what’s easiest. Because he doesn’t care, he made that clear. He doesn’t care. (Even though he won’t stop looking at you.)

Don’t focus on him, don’t focus on anything but your drawings. 

You pick out your favorites, the Naboo royal cruiser, the YT-1300 light freighter, the ST-70 class Razor Crest M-111, and a T-47 air speeder. You can’t help but feel a genuine pride as you stare at the drawings. They’re messy and on most of them you’ve smeared the ink but they’re recognizable and it’s nice to actually feel like you’ve accomplished something. It’s easy for the days to blend together when you do the same thing over and over and over again but this is real. You can touch and see the drawings you did, physical evidence that you did something other than finish another book. 

It’s hard to really appreciate what you’ve done when you’re also pretending that you don’t see him staring right at you. 

He pretends that he doesn’t care about what you’re doing. (Rather poorly.)

And you pretend you don’t notice him gawking at you. 

You need to stop thinking about him and his staring problem so you find another book, something bulky with pictures.

The Illustrated History of Blasters : From Pistols to Rifles

And you start from the beginning, just scribbling sketches of every gun there’s a picture for. You don’t really care much for blasters but the illustrations are so complicated you can’t help but try and match the attention to detail.

It’s late when you finish the first section of the book. You haven’t even gotten past pistols as you stifle a yawn. 

He seemingly hasn’t moved an inch, aside from the glances in your direction that you brushed off. 

Even with the circumstances you can’t help but wish he would just say something, literally anything. He could tell you that your drawings are shit and honestly you’d just be happy to hear his voice. But of course he doesn’t. Because you aren’t anything to him.

Maybe he’s pretending too.

You have no reason to believe he is, he’s shown no interest in you or reconciliation since he ended things, other than his persistent presence. You can’t think of a reason why he would end things and not mean what he said. 

But you like to think that he’s pretending. 

It makes this easier in your mind if it’s not that he doesn’t want to be with you, it’s that he can’t. 

It’s harmless. 

Imagining such a thing, as long as you don’t let yourself get caught up in another fantasy. This isn’t real, it’s just something to help you stomach the harsh reality of being undesirable to him.

So you pretend that his glances are those of want, that maybe deep down he might actually care for you.

You pretend that he regrets his decision, that he misses you even though he’s spent all day right next to you.

You pretend that he secretly wishes he was walking beside you instead of behind you as you return to your chambers. And you pretend that he wants you to invite him in but some secret invisible reason that you don’t know about is holding him back. 

But it’s all just pretend. 

You need to remind yourself of that. 

You can do this. You can have more days like this. 

Drawing to keep your mind from wandering and when it does you can pretend. It isn’t an ideal way of living but for now you have to manage until you figure out where to go from here. 

You slip out of your gown after fighting to unlace it yourself for a few minutes and decide to just sleep in your undergarments as you make your way to the closet. 

You pretend you don’t hear that soft clunk of Beskar against your door.

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[kirishimaswife2819]

Thunderstorms || Eijiro Kirishima x Reader Drabble

Masterlist

Pairing: Eijiro Kirishima x Reader

Summary: On rainy days, you and Kirishima normally sit at the window and watch the rain, but today it’s not just rain, it’s a thunderstorm and you’re terrified of thunderstorms

Word Count: 700

A/n: Okay, so this was inspired by the post I did on the boys comforting their s/o during a thunderstorm. This has been sitting in my drafts for a few days and I didn’t write anything today or yesterday, so I figured I might as well upload it. Also, sorry I haven’t worked on any requests in like two days now, I just haven’t been in the mood to write anything. I’ll try to get some done tomorrow, but other than that, hope you all have a good day/night! - Danielle <3

You were sitting at the window, a large red blanket draped over your shoulders, drinking hot cocoa, as Kirishima came back into the room.

“I’m back,” Kirishima announced, setting some stuff down on the window sill, before lifting one side of the blanket up, and bringing it around to his other shoulder, and sitting down beside you.

“I didn’t notice,” you replied, sarcastically, as you got closer to his side, and snuggled into him. Kirishima grabbed a bag of chips from the window sill, and opened it. After opening it, he held one up to your mouth, knowing that your hands were occupied with holding your hot cocoa. You glanced up at him, “Thank you.”

“No problem, baby,” Kirishima said, watching as you took the chip from him with your teeth, before taking another sip of your cocoa.

“What the hell are you two doing?” You heard Katsuki ask from behind you. You would have turned around to look at him, but you were too comfy to move.

“Watching the rain,” Kirishima responded, “Want to join us?”

“That is the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard of,” Bakugou responded.

“At least Kirishima can actually get a significant other,” you said, still not looking at him.

“Oh, you little-” Bakugou stopped himself before he could insult you, or do something to you, because the last time he did, Kirishima got pissed and went off on him, before ignoring him for two days. Eventually Bakugou spoke again, “Tch. Whatever.”

With that, he walked off leaving you and Kirishima alone together.

“So what’d you do today?” You asked, setting your cocoa down, so you could get comfier up against Kirishima. Kirishima started talking about his day, and everything that had happened, causing you to grow tired. It wasn’t that Kirishima was boring, it was just that his voice was soothing and nice to listen to.

“Tired?” Kirishima asked, chuckling, noticing how you hadn’t responded after he finished his rant.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, shutting your eyes.

“Then go to sleep,” he said, “I’ll be here and when you wake up.” Just as you were about to fall asleep, you jumped when the first loud noise could be heard, from the storm.

“Oh, it must be thunderstorming,” Kirishima said, smiling, “We’ve never watched one of those before! We should- Hey, why are you shaking?” You sat straight up, moving out of Kirishima’s arms. Kirishima frowned at this, “Baby? What’s wrong?”

“I-It’s thundering,” you replied, trying to conceal your fear.

“Yeah? What’s wrong with that?” Kirishima questioned, still not understanding why you were so scared.

“I’m scared of thunderstorms,” you admit, as Kirishima’s eyes widen.

“Oh, okay, come on, let’s go,” Kirishima said, panicking and quickly having you stand up, “Go sit on the couch, I’ll be right over.” You did as you were told, letting your blanket drag behind you. As soon as you sat down, there was another loud boom that caused you to jump, and shake. You brought your knees to your chest, and covered your head with the blanket, hoping that you would just disappear. For the next five minutes, you jumped every time it thundered, and tried to block out the noise. Then, you heard the sound of Kirishima moving things around, and setting some things on the table.

After a bit, you felt Kirishima lifting the blanket, to reveal your face. You looked up at him, and he frowned at your tear stained face, but quickly offered you a small and comforting smile. He got under the blanket with you and lifted it over both of your heads, so you were both completely covered again. After this, he turned on his phone, and turned down the brightness, so it wouldn’t hurt your eyes.

“What are you doing?” You questioned, as he plugged a pair of earbuds into the phone, before offering them to you. 

“Just put them in, it’ll make it so you can’t hear the noise,” Kirishima explained, and you agreed, putting one in each ear. Soon the sound of the playlist that you and Kirishima had made together, filled your ears. Kirishima pulled you into his side, and allowed you to lay up against him. You forgot all about the storm, and allowed the music and Kirishima’s warm embrace put you to sleep.

[bbbqlays]

다섯: 강한 감정

5: Strong Feelings

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

It was a new day, and after your encounter yesterday with the man in charge, you were sort of on edge with everything.

“Hey there Eri. I heard you got new books to read.” Your hand reached to a box, opening it you found picture books along with fantasy chapter books. “Do you have a preference for any of these?”

She picked out the most colorful picture book. “You want to read the Paper Dragon?”

You picked up the book and looked at the cover. It was very colorful. She smiled widely, reaching out for the book with awe. “Okay!” You chuckled playfully sitting on her bed, she followed behind and brushed up against you.

You began reading, trying your best to make it entertaining, you even got one of the guards to laugh, a golden blonde haired man. You’ve never seen him until now, his eyes were a boost in mood, and you could tell he was smiling at certain moments.

The book was finished and Eri was way more excited about books, she jumped up but only fell on top of you as she laughed loudly.

“Ms, L/n, could you read another?”

“Why dont we do something better?”

Eri’s eyes lit up, wondering what could be better than a book. You stood up and went up to another box, you looked through to find one pair of child scissors and a bunch of colorful paper. You pulled out stacks and stacks and put them on the ground.

You waved eri over and pulled out a stack of papers. They were orgami papers with various colors. “We can make a paper dragon and hang it up on the ceiling” eri’s eyes brightened at the suggestion. “Oragami is one of the best things they teach you in school. Only because you can create anything out of paper by just folding.”

You divided the colors as quickly as you could before guiding eri through a talk. “Choose the colors and 12 pieces of paper.” She started picking out the colors, mostly being blues and purples, and everyone watched as she chose.

“Okay, and then now we are going to take the first piece.” You grabbed a random sheet of paper and sat on the ground across from her. You started to fold the paper and looked at eri to see if she followed. “And fold it... like that.” She did as she was told and smiled cheerfully while doing it.

Continuing, you explained and showed her every step. She followed delightfully. And the end result came to be two dragons long and proud. “And so now choose a color.” You offered the marker case and she randomly chose. It was purple. You picked out a black marker and picked up your dragon. “Draw a face.” You drew two little dots to signify eyes and a smile.

She did the same but instead had the tongue stick out. You both chuckled as you stood up, stretching. You looked at the clock on the side of her bed and sighed. “Looks like I need to go.” You groan and she followed with a sigh.

“Eri, I will be back tomorrow to hopefully do another fun activity. Maybe we’ll draw tomorrow.” Eri ran up and hugged, tightly gripping on your pants. She let go, but her stare seemed extra saddened. “See you tomorrow. Eat well.”

She nodded to that and you were escorted out. The man guiding you out had long golden hair. His mask fit snugly on his face, his green shirt adorned with a pinkish red tie.

You breathed softly as he guided you back to your room. “Does anyone ever talk?”

He looked at you, as if to smile. “Yeah, but usually to each other. Not really to the head.”

“The head... oh you mean Overhaul right?” He nodded in agreement. “What’s your name?”

“If you need to know, I’m Setsuno Toya.” He said it as if a weight was lifted off his shoulders. He was glad about the short lived conversation.

“Well, thank you Setsuno. Hopefully we can talk again.” He unlocked the doors with a bow, and you bowed again.

When entering you ripped off the mask and dropped it on your desk looking at the warm food displayed on the corner. It looked to be an American dish, specifically pizza. Toppings were placed on the side of the plate mostly meats.

You nodded to yourself and dug in, loving the warmth of the food. You closed your eyes enjoying the savory taste. It was a simple dish, and it tasted homemade. You wondered who made it and where, since you hadn’t smelled anyones cooking while with Eri.

You finished up, and looked around the desk, clothes laid out on the top and a new mask. You rolled your eyes feeling like a doll with all these clothes.

You rummaged through though, curious as to what they were. It was a blue short skirt, with black shorts, and a white button up blouse to match. It was as if it was made for a summer evening, or a date.

The thought made you chuckle as you threw them on the bed. To think you had a secret admirer was funny to also think about. The world built itself on soulmates, why would anyone play around with that.

The thought then hit you. “Fate... wouldn’t put me here right?” And you couldn’t play around with the thought of that because you couldn’t physically touch anyone.

Everyone had protection and you feel like you’d be killed if you were to touch someone. You tried to laugh the thought away but it lingered, and it scared you.

The clothes fit perfectly. Of course, and you felt good in it despite the earlier thoughts. You honestly thought you looked good in blue.

You enjoyed twirling around in it not being bothered to hear the door click open. You stopped twirling to feel good about yourself only to be met with the man in white.

Your face matched a shade of tomato as you went to try and hide yourself. You bowed to him apologizing silently. He simply bowed to you as well verbally apologizing for disrupting.

“I just came to get you for the meeting.”

You cleared your throat as you nodded. You grabbed the mask on the desk and threw it on still blushing embarrassingly. You walked out with him trying your best to slow your heart rate.

“Chrono right?” He nodded. “You’re like his right hand man, correct?”

“Yes, despite his demeanor he’s actually good.”

“I wasn’t doubting him, I was just going to ask... Why all this?”

Chrono looked at you not understanding the question. “Why this whole base? It seems eerie and too much.”

“Overhaul.” Chrono paused and thought about what to say. “He want’s to change the world. He wants an old image to come back.” Chrono nodded to his statement and continue guiding.

“So, it’s to better society... Correct?”

He nodded and that seemed to lift a burden from you somehow.

Chrono slowly opened the door and to welcome you was the same masked face you had seen last night. This time his tie was loosely around his neck, and he seemed more stressed than anything.

“Welcome Back!” Overhaul greeted you with open arms as he watched you sit. “Hopefully today wasn’t too overbearing.”

“No, of course not. Me and Eri simply read and did origami. Which I thank you for getting supplies for that.”

“So, I see you guys are getting along.” He adjusts his tie and looks off into the distance. “Do you have any other requests?”

Your eyes darted to his face immediately wondering what context. “To take care of Eri.” You were shaky now. Your head wanted to explode as you thought of other things to request that wasn’t for the benefit of Eri.

“Just supplies to draw with.” He nodded and looked at you pleasingly.

“And do you need anything? Specific things you had in your living quarters that you need here.”

You pondered. “If possible. A small library.” Your request seemed to peek his interest, and he simply chuckled.

“Very well.” His hand issued you away, and Chrono guided you out.

“Chrono. How can you tell when Overhaul likes someone?” It was a bold statement and you felt as if he wouldn’t answer properly.

“Don’t worry. He likes you just fine.” He gave you a genuine answer, making you think.

“Now, get some rest. And leave a note of all your favorite breakfast items under the door. Our ‘chef’ wants to make your stay here interesting and home-y.” He left with a nod.

You smiled, not a big smile, because what was there to smile about. You turned on the small lamp light on your desk and scanned your room feeling something off.

Flowers were on your nightstand. Not the ones from before but new ones. White roses. They filled the whole room with a beautiful scent.

You rushed to find another note under the vase, your hands feeling the hand writing. Beautiful cursive saying

‘You’re like a beautiful dove amongst a trash filled park. You stand out like a sore thumb. You please me without knowing it, and for that I keep you near.’

You couldn’t help but shiver as you read it. A smile wider than usual filled itself along your face.

“Beautiful.”

Someone is playing with the strings of fate, and falling for you evidently. You held the note close to your heart laughing loudly as you thought of who it could be.

Your heart fluttered as you thought of the man in white. He seemed to have more personality in this place than anyone else, and he’s seen you the most.

You giggle at the thought, and the thought of not even seeing his face filled you with mysterious happiness.

It was like being in grade school again...

Hey hey! Its Lay. I am sad to inform you that I am sick. I have covid and so it’s hard to get things done while sick. So sorry if uploads are delayed, and or not posted weekly. I’m trying my best, and hopefully you guys support me all the way through.

And if you want content from me everyday, I have a tiktok. I try my best to post everyday, but if you like overhaul here, you’ll definitely like overhaul over there! Thank you so much for reading and hopefully you stay healthy!

TAG LIST (OPEN)

@inanabsentia @wormxunii @lalachanya @cth-l @a-monsters-love @irisallenm @awkward-confused

[twilitty]

Moonlit ch.2

This is the second chapter in my new fic Moonlit, it will be posted on Tumblr, ao3, and ffnet. New chapters uploaded every week and a half. Message/comment to be added to my tag list.

3.9k words

previous chapter

big thank you to my beta reader @effervescentlyirrevocable who has given me the absolute best criticism and helped make this chapter so beautiful :)

Bella Swan is introduced to a possible new friend and receives a gift. The doctors new family may not be as well adjusted to small town life as Charlie would like.

Chapter Two

The next morning I wake up to a growl of thunder beating against the inside of my skull. I had a night of thankfully restful sleep for once, only waking up to get a glass of water. My hands are clasped against my chest, fingers knotted in annoyance as I hold back what likely will be a spill of expletives. Why must there always be noise? Why can I not sleep soundly and awake soundly, just once?

I open one eye experimentally, hoping the sun has already arisen and I won’t be missing out on any leftover sleep. My room is shrouded in darkness. The expletives, swear words crude enough to make a priest gag, spill out in a muttered breath and my hands squeeze against each other once more before reaching for my alarm clock. The red numbers blink back at me and it takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the light before I read the time. Nine in the morning. I look back to the window where my blinds are drawn closed, but still no light, even filtered through the canopy of clouds, peaks at the edges. 

The thunder, which had gone quiet after waking me up initially, rolls again for a moment before silencing itself. Only, was it thunder? It sounded heavy, like machinery but with a deeper growl. Was there construction nearby? I didn’t recall any on my few trips up and down the street, and I question why there would need to be any construction anyways. It’s not as if this is a booming neighbourhood with a subdivision being built. 

Charlie knocks against my door, quieter than yesterday. “Bella, it’s time to get up.” You’d imagine that with my age being nearly twenty and my status as a legal adult I’d be allowed to choose my own time to wake up. My annoyance dies down quickly when my thoughts bounce back to Phoenix, waking up early each morning to drive Mom into her early morning classes. Nine in the morning really isn’t that early, in fact, it allows me time to get some chores done before class. “Someone has dropped by.”

My lips contort into an annoyed pucker. Who would have stopped by? Mom had warned me before the move that nothing but rumours and nasty mold comes from Forks. Apparently her quick marriage to Charlie, and even quicker pregnancy with me, was enough gossip to fuel conversations for years. I remember a trip to Forks at eight years old, a woman had stopped my mother in the grocery store and asked her over for coffee. “They just want the inside scoop,” Renee had told me afterwards, “Give them anything and they’ll find a way to make it ugly.”

My bare feet brush the ground and a flash of cold spreads up my shins. Apparently, even in spring, the weather is dangerously cold. I tell Charlie I’ll be downstairs in a moment, pulling on a pair of jeans and thermal socks. I was hoping for a relaxing day alone, just me, my sweatpants, and the laptop. I compromise on the socks, regardless of who is downstairs, my toes will not be cold today.

I pull the blinds open, the lawn stretching out beside the house is bathed in shadowy darkness despite the morning hour. The forest that lines our property, secluding us from the neighbours, is eerie and mysterious. The green tones that I initially found alien and too bright are now gone and replaced with navy. I wait a moment, staring into the trees, my thoughts rambling into fairytale imaginations. 

My brain conjures an image of a man, tall and insidious, stepping out of the tree line, long claws attached to his fingers and a nasty grin revealing pointed teeth. His shirt is ripped in the front, a long tear reaching from throat to navel and from inside the shirt tufts of hair stick out. No, not hair, fur. He growls menacingly. 

I close the blinds quickly and blink against the pictures my brain throws at me. 

The landline rings downstairs and startles me, a jolt of anxious adrenaline surging through my cold feet and up into my heart. Maybe one of the reasons I enjoyed Phoenix’s barren, plain landscape was that I would not be subjected to such terrible thoughts. I remember being twelve and watching Scream with my mother, she was on a horror movie kick and had rented a whole stack of DVDs for us to watch. That night when I was tired but my eyes refused to close as I didn’t want to imagine what could be lurking outside my bedroom window. Crawling into my mother’s bed, she ran her warm palm against my forehead and hummed a song until I calmed down. 

“Bella,” she had said quietly, the nurturing lilt of her voice expanding my heart, “We live in a desert. You can see for miles and miles and miles, if some bad man was coming we’d see him from forty minutes away.” I giggled quietly into the comforter, our bodies pressed against each other in near sleep and my mother’s hands maneuvering through my hair with expertise. 

Now, I look out at the grassy lawn from a crack between the blinds. It resembles the set of a slasher movie, the forest borders it with every possibility my imagination can muster. I can see a man from four seconds away, not forty minutes.

There's a chorus of male laughter from below and I sigh, assuming this is my cue to go downstairs and meet with whoever has stopped in.

Charlie is sitting in the living room, facing me and his back to the television which is decidedly blank. On the couch is a head of glossy, black hair. Beside him is a wheelchair with an older man sitting in it, a mug clasped between dark hands. I curse whatever forces brought these strangers into the house so early, I am not in the mood for interaction. I was hoping for a bowl of oatmeal and a quiet morning. 

“Hey!” Charlie braces his hands on his knees and pushes out of the armchair. His face is split in half with a grin. I can’t recall him smiling this large in the past week of my stay. The two men turn, facing me with warm smiles.

One of them is older, perhaps Charlie's age, his mouth creased with smile lines and his eyes wrinkled with sun damage. His skin is a warm russet brown, his eyes deep-set behind pronounced brows and a large smile. Bright white teeth stare back at me as my brain picks over his features, how do I know this man? I know almost immediately that he’s Quileute, from the Reservation to the west of town. I vaguely remember trips to the beach with Charlie and eating hotdogs over fires with some of the children from the area. 

“Do you remember me, Bella?” He asks in a deep, commanding tone. His voice transports me back to the beach, collecting colourful rocks with the other kids and being called to dinner. Billy Black. He lives in a small, red house with a large kitchen perfect for gatherings. He’s older than I remember, but my last time being here for any substantial time was nearly four years ago. 

“Dad, c’mon,” the boy says with a sarcastic eye roll. He stands from the couch, his height towering mine by a few inches and his broad shoulders slumped forward happily. I wonder how tall he’d be if he stood to his full height. His voice is deep, not as deep as his father’s, but still an indicator of the family resemblance. Where his father is strong and sure, this boy is aloof and casual. Jacob Black. “She hasn’t been back in ages, she probably blocked your nasty attitude out of her memory.” 

I bite back a smile, but Billy laughs and shoots Charlie a look that says, kids, am I right? I step forward and extend my hand to Jacob, who takes it gratefully in his own and gives a soft shake. His hand covers mine and is most definitely a few degrees warmer than I am. “Jacob Black, we used to make mud pies together.”

“Best in town,” Charlie adds in from the back of the room. I smile. 

“No, no, I remember you guys,” I tell the Blacks. “It just took me a moment.” Charlies sits back down in his chair and motions for me to take a seat. 

“Billy and Jake just stopped by,” my father explains. I sit beside Jacob on the couch, a cushion between us. But, even with the provided space and the lack of physical contact, I feel heat come off of him in waves like a radiator. I wonder if he’s sick. “Jake here is a mechanic.” A furious blush settles under the boy's brown skin as his mechanical skills are brought up, this is my first time hearing of his expertise. I remember his sisters being twins, both tall and beautiful with matching smiles. They were almost two years older than me, Jacob had followed closely behind and was only born in the same six months as me. Of course, now that I try to remember, the date falls short in my memory. It’s possible he has a career as a mechanic somewhere on the Reservation, but he mustn’t work in Forks. I hadn’t seen a single mechanics garage in town. 

“No, no,” he looks between me and my father with an apologetic smile, “it’s just a hobby. Something for fun.” Billy tsks at his son, shaking his head in a way that makes me believe this conversation has occurred before. 

“Hobbies can bring in money, hobbies can turn into jobs,” the older man says with a scolding tone. Jacob just shakes his head crookedly, not responding. Charlie takes this as his cue to interrupt the trajectory of the conversation, and I’m grateful. I haven’t spoken to these men in nearly four years, that last place I want to be is in the middle of a family feud. 

“Well, now, there was a reason I brought up Jake’s skills,” Charlie interjects with a wave at the large boy next to me. “Bells, go take a look outside.” My fingers twitch anxiously in my lap at being thrust into the center of the conversation. I was hoping I could slide under the radar here, not end up in the middle of it. 

It takes great restraint for me to get up from the couch and not stumble over my ankles in the act, my clumsiness reaches new heights when I’m being watched by a room of people. Even if there are only three people in the room. The window at the end of the room is open, the curtains pulled to the side, and when I reach it my gaze falls on a group of kids biking down the street with a rainbow of helmets. Apparently, the dark sky doesn’t scare them the way it does me. 

They pedal quickly, little screams of delight just barely audible through the thick glass of the living room window. They pass the porch and disappear behind a large red truck parked out front of the house. I blink. It’s still there, rounded fenders and shiny door handles, long bed, ancient grill adorning the hood. It’s beautiful. “Is that your truck, Billy?” There’s a chorus of laughter behind me, the men’s baritones mixing and producing a flaming blush starting at my neck and creeping up into my face. I turn to look at them, my stomach clenching as I turn away from the beautiful vehicle. “What?” 

“It’s yours, Bella,” Charlie tells me. The breath I was holding leaves my lungs through my gaping mouth, I struggle to close it and take an experimental inhale. “Bella?” I turn and look back out the window, the glorious truck still sits there staring at me from across the dark lawn. I can only imagine how beautiful it is in the sunlight.

“I- it’s mine?” I ask. Another series of laughs echo through and then footsteps come up beside me, Jacob stands looking out the window. “You made it?” I question, looking up at him. 

His shoulders shake silently and his lips press together as he tries to compose himself, I’m not sure why he finds my comment so funny but it reignites my blush. “I fixed it up, yeah. But, don’t get too excited. The thing runs at sixty miles max, push her further than that and you’ll be walking home.” 

We all go outside quickly, me leading the pack with an excited skip in my step. It’s a miracle I didn’t fall on my face or stumble over my words as I spoke my thoughts aloud. “It’s so pretty, I love it! Jake, I have no idea how you could make it look so perfect.” The truck sits against the curb, its red paint flaking in places around the tires, but even more perfect than I could have imagined. 

The sky is a disturbing shade of grey, a fact that irritates me more outside than it did in the house. Why does the weather have to ruin such a perfectly good moment? But I spend the majority of my time on the vehicle, petting its sides carefully like I might damage it. Finally, seemingly having had enough of me quietly admiring the vehicle, Billy tells me to hop in and check it out on the inside. 

Jacob produces a set of keys, no automatic locking mechanism, and twists it in the truck's door handle. He holds the door open for me, producing a hand to help me in. I take it gratefully, stepping up into the driver’s seat and letting myself sink into the seat. Jacob closes the door on me, but my thoughts are lost and focused only on how much I love this truck. 

“So,” he says after opening the passenger door and climbing up next to me, “You ever driven a truck before?” I shake my head, fingers curving experimentally around the thin steering wheel. I can see myself now: driving down the empty highway, the sun blinding against the dry pavement, window down and hair blowing, radio blaring. It’s exactly what I needed, a way for me to get around without needing to borrow the cruiser (which, yes, is illegal) or have Charlie drive me around. 

“I can give you lessons,” Jake offers, fingers clasped in his lap, drumming a tune against the opposite knuckles. “If not that’s cool, but she drives a little funny.” “She?” I ask, eyes leaving the steering wheel momentarily to watch his face. He notices, the serene expression dropping from his face and replaced with a quick upturn of his lips. 

“Uh, yeah.” He palms the back of his neck roughly and seems almost apologetic. “I have a thing for cars, y’know, so naming them is kinda part of the deal.” I can barely make out a faint red tinge over his cheeks. “Wait, hold on,” I can’t contain the giggle that slips out but firmly press my lips together before trying again. I can only imagine the toothy smile I’m giving him, a girl all too excited over some old truck. Only, this is the perfect old truck. “What’s her name?”

“Betty,” he responds sheepishly, his hand still massaging the back of his neck. “But if you tell anybody that I’ll have to kill you.” 

“That’s okay, Betty is our secret.” 

And, just like that, I now have a secret with someone. Does this make us friends? Regardless of whatever it makes us, my heart sings happily from within my chest, excited to think that maybe Forks won’t be as lonesome as it’s been this past week. Maybe Jacob and I will become friends and bond over Betty and I won’t only have Charlie and school and books. 

“Well, before you accept her turn the keys,” Jacob instructs. I oblige, setting the keys in the ignition and giving them a gentle twist. A roar of mechanical thunder envelopes us. I nearly leap out of my seat in surprise, the loud rumbling of the engine settling in my ears and blocking out all other noises. Jake says something but I can barely hear him from over the thunderous growl of Betty. I turn the keys back and the truck dies down with one last rumble. “She’s loud,” he says obviously. 

“She’s perfect.” 

Jacob hands me a spare set of keys after we get out, telling me that he’ll be back the day after tomorrow to give me my first driving lesson in the truck. Charlie was all too excited with that idea, even though I already have my license and know how to drive. In fact, other than illegally borrowing the cruiser with Charlie’s permission, I have never committed an illegal act involving a vehicle. If memory serves me correctly, Charlie has two speeding tickets from his youth. 

But, I don’t argue against Jake's offer. In fact, I thank him profusely and promise to pay him for the lessons. “Bella,” he says in an exasperated way, as if we’ve known each other for years and I always say such supposedly outlandish things. “Why would you pay me for something I’m offering to you?” 

We’ve stopped in front of the Blacks vehicle, a large brown and beige truck which seems to only be a decade newer than the red one. This isn’t saying much for the brown vehicle as the red one could be from the fifties. Billy is wheeling his way down the driveway with Charlie walking beside him, laughing emphatically at something his friend had said. 

“That’s crazy,” I respond with a shake of my head. “That’s like me not paying you for the truck.”

“Yeah, I know.” I take pause at this, the words welling up inside my brain and the meaning lost to me for only a moment. Then, like finally finding the missing puzzle piece under the table, I understand what this means and the picture is clear. 

“You- I- This truck isn’t free.” The words stutter out of me, the first two the beginnings of messages I abandoned immediately after starting them. This truck, though old, is not cheap, and neither is Jakes’s skill. I should pay him for labour if nothing else, but I know he doesn’t want to include that in the bill. He doesn't want to send me a bill. 

“It’s a gift,” he states simply with a shrug of his wide shoulders. Billy pulls up beside me, slapping away Charlie's hand as he tries to adjust his chair for him.

“Careful, Swan,” the older Black warns with hostility. “I have more muscle in these arms than you do in your entire body. Touch the chair and you’ll get what’s coming to you.” 

Jacob helps Billy into the passenger seat, folding up the wheelchair and securing it into the truck bed with quick hands. Charlie stands beside me, shooting fiery threats back and forth with his friend until Jacob climbs behind the wheel. “Storm coming through,” Jacob says with a wave towards the dark sky. “If you need any help with anything, tying stuff down or moving let me know.” Charlie thanks him for the offer and I lean in to thank him again for the truck and the lessons. I also assure him that the argument over billing is far from over and that he’ll get an earful the next time we meet. 

The rest of the day is spent restlessly. I log into my online classes but my attention is continuously claimed by my truck in front of the house. The sun never shows itself, content with hiding behind the cloud coverage. I’m sitting in the living room when Charlie gets home for dinner, my book discarded on the couch somewhere beside me. I reach for it once I see his cruiser pull into the driveway, deciding it would be better to look busy than to look like I’m obsessing over my new means of transportation.

“Bella?” He calls, the door shutting behind him with a creak. At some point I’ll have to oil all the hinges in the house. It’s that or I go clinically insane from the constant noise. 

“Yeah, just in here.” 

He comes in bearing a brown bag with the Forks Diner logo written on the side. “I brought dinner, it’ll be on the stove.” I nod and thank him, telling him that we can eat together once he’s down and out of uniform. “Well, actually, I won’t be eating until a bit later.” His moustache twitches irritably and he disappears into the kitchen to drop the food off. 

“Are you meeting with Billy?” I ask, knowing this isn’t the case. It must be an issue with work causing him to feel stressed. And when he comes back into the living room from the kitchen I’m able to see the tension holding his shoulders in place. “Did something happen at work?” “It’s nothing to worry about,” he assures me, but his words do anything but. So much for police chief being a boring job. “Just those new kids in town, the doctors children,” he waves a hand in the air as if trying to gather his thoughts. “Kicking up trouble in their first week here, something about racing.” 

“Oh.” I pull my knees under me and turn to face him fully, my arms hanging over the back of the couch like a child. 

“Anyways, no big deal I’m sure they’re just used to city life or something.” But, my fathers tone indicates that he most definitely does not believe his own words. In Charlie's books a bad apple is always a bad apple, and he’s probably dreading all the other trouble these kids will kick up. “I’ve just gotta go check-in with them, make sure it doesn’t happen again.” His hand moves towards my arm, as if to pat me goodbye but it stutters midair, falling back to his side awkwardly. 

I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, biting on it as he mutters a goodbye and leaves through the front door without looking at me again. I wonder when this will get any easier. 

Renee left Charlie a year into their young marriage, taking me away to live with her in Arizona. She had given me partial reasons over the years for her leaving, talking of them being too young, the weather too wet, how she wanted a life where she could be free from responsibilities. I’m not sure whether it dawned on her that a child constitutes a responsibility, but she took me to every yoga class and rarely left me with a babysitter. 

My mother was never too keen on Forks, not that I fault her for it, the weather leaves much to be desired and there’s virtually nothing to do. But, because of her disliking I rarely visited my father, my first extended visit being when I was twelve and stayed the entire summer as Renee travelled with her then-boyfriend. I came back to a scrapbook of kissy photos and pressed leaves from her travels, all I had to show for my trip was a runny nose and a strong distaste for hamburgers. One can only eat so many burgers before the novelty wears off.

taglist: @musingsofvenus @maybesandohnos​

[drunkserval]

A Fresh Canvas: Incomplete Preview

Quite some time ago I did a silly little thread on Twitter, and I’ve always wanted to take that and actually make something out of it. Well it was a little harder than expected, but it’s coming along!

When I have the entire thing done I will be uploading it to AO3, but for now it seemed seasonally appropriate to at least drop this.

I wanted to have this posted yesterday but festivities kept me busier than expected! Story is below the cut. Keep in mind that this is still technically a rough draft, and will receive its final beta pass before the full story hits AO3.

(Tentative) Title: A Fresh Canvas Fandom: Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System by MXTX Rating: G, No Warnings Apply Summary: Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan are neighbors in the same modern apartment complex who, despite looking similar enough to be mistaken for each other, couldn’t be any more different. Or so they think.

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

Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan were neighbors in the same apartment complex. They lived on the same floor, in the same hall, and were often mistaken for one another due to this proximity combined with how similar their appearances were.

But there were key differences, as both would readily point out to their neighbors. Shen Jiu’s hair hung shy of his shoulders while Shen Yuan’s was shorter and lighter in tone. 

And still the mix-ups kept happening, particularly if they were at some distance or facing away. The misunderstanding would very rarely last past the first glance since Shen Jiu would snap and take immediate offense, and Shen Yuan would just sigh and say, "Sorry, wrong one."

Shen Yuan had no idea why Shen Jiu got so offended over it. Surely he didn’t look that bad, come on!

The neighbors eventually started learning to look at the clothes first--or to at least look for Shen Yuan’s thick-rimmed glasses. 

Both men carried and dressed themselves so differently. Shen Yuan dressed in hoodies and jeans--well, if he was planning on going any further than the mailbox, that was. Otherwise why bother changing out of pajamas or sweatpants?

On the other hand, Shen Jiu didn’t touch anything that wasn’t from a known designer. 

Shen Jiu spent proudly--and why shouldn’t he? Because he at least earned his money!

That Shen Yuan kid down the hall? Rumor was that his parents were paying his rent and he'd never had a real job in his life.

But because he never went out, Shen Yuan was one of the only people still hanging around the apartment complex when Shen Jiu went around knocking during a major holiday. 

In Shen Jiu’s arms was a box containing two fluffy black pups.

Shen Yuan’s eyes widened at the sight of them and he completely forgot to greet his neighbor until Shen Jiu cleared his throat. The dogs were like little storm clouds with feet and stubby tails, staring back at him with big black eyes. One started wagging its tail with such vigor that its whole back end wiggled about.

It took Shen Jiu a moment to find his voice as he followed, such was the state that his neighbor had chosen to answer the door in. Hideous cucumber-print pajama pants, a tacky anime shirt covered in snack crumbs, and unkempt hair had greeted him. But the continuous movement of the box in his arms reminded him of his mission. 

“I found... ” Shen Jiu shifted the box in indication as Shen Yuan shut the door behind them, “these, out by the garbage.”

Shen Yuan blinked as the other passed by him, “Have you tried calling any nearby shelters?”

“Of course I have,” Shen Jiu scoffed at the implication that he was so simple. “You try getting a real person on the phone today, though. It’s impossible. I could only leave messages.”

Shen Yuan put a finger to his lips, “Oh, right. Today is…” Glancing at a wall calendar almost as ugly as his shirt he nodded, “Right. Right.”

Did this kid ever so much as leave the building? Shen Jiu was starting to wonder. Shen Yuan dressed like he’d just rolled out of bed in the latter part of the daytime. And he hadn’t realized it was a major holiday. And then there were the countless odorous takeout boxes covering every available surface in his apartment.

Shen Jiu wrinkled his nose but still asked in spite of his rapidly growing doubts, “You don’t know anyone who can take these little mutts in for a day or two, do you?”

Shen Yuan shook his head and heard Shen Jiu sigh. His neighbor set the box down to give his arms a rest… but Shen Yuan couldn’t seem to rip his attention away from one of the pups. It hadn’t stopped staring at him, or shaking its fluffy little behind, for a moment.

“What if we take them in?”

Shen Jiu’s tone was flat, “What.”

Shen Yuan picked up the excited little pup and it immediately started wiggling in his grasp. Not struggling, however--just trying to get closer to his face, paws waving in the air and its little pink tongue darting out to reach for him even though it was still well outside of range. He had to fight back the urge to laugh at the silly little storm cloud. 

“The building allows us to have one animal per unit, right?” Shen Yuan shrugged, “so what if we each took one, even just long enough to find them new homes?”

Shen Jiu frowned. Taking in a dog, or really any animal, had never been on his agenda. He liked his nice clean apartment and intact furniture unlike a certain someone. Plus he was more partial to cats. He moved his gaze from the overexcited animal back to the box. Though the pups looked identical on the surface this one was clearly the calmer one. It looked up at his scowling face but put forth no such ridiculous display… thank goodness.

Who knew? Maybe Shen Yuan’s idea wasn’t so bad. And if it was, it was only a temporary arrangement, in the end. He might be able to get rid of the animal as soon as tomorrow if it was truly intolerable.

Tentatively, Shen Jiu reached out to pick up the dog…

And felt tiny teeth close around his fingers.

Jerking his hand backwards, Shen Jiu sneered down at the animal. “What, you ungrateful little beast!” 

Shen Yuan finally stopped cooing at his own pup to look over and said, “Maybe he doesn’t like your cologne?”

“And what’s wrong with my cologne?” Shen Jiu snapped, voice raising.

Stepping back, “Nothing, nothing!”

“It was a gift, you know!”

Shen Yuan barely avoided tripping over a haphazard stack of game cases as he kept moving away. “P-perhaps it’s just too strong for a dog’s nose, that’s all!”

This time Shen Jiu moved quickly, snatching up the dog by its middle before it could get its ridiculously tiny muzzle around anything, and he stared directly into the animal’s eyes.

“Do that again, and I’ll put you back out in the cold where I found you. Understood?”

The dog stared back at him, placid and indifferent… until its tongue darted out and licked the end of his nose.

“...good enough.”

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

It was a few days before the two of them crossed paths again. 

It’d seem they both had decided to keep their newfound pets and they were both out that day to take the dogs for walks.

The air in the park was warm, so they sat themselves on a bench to enjoy it for a bit longer and soak up some of the sunlight that was so rare that time of year. Shen Jiu’s pup sat like a sentry at his feet while Shen Yuan’s pup curled up on his lap the moment he sat down. 

It was through the ensuing conversation they realized they both gave their dog the same name by sheer coincidence.

One was too lazy and the other was too stubborn, so neither changed it. At least they’d bought different-colored collars. But this brought to light a new revelation, and Shen Yuan just had to ask…

“How did you come up with it?”

“It was just the first thing to come to mind,” Shen Jiu had explained, “from something I’ve been reading, probably.”

"Wait, you read that too!?"

As he suspected! That name was from one of the top-rated web novels that year, from its stallion protagonist: Luo Binghe!

Shen Yuan couldn’t imagine someone as outwardly prim as Shen Jiu reading trashy webnovels, but it turned out to be true. It was just a quick, easy way for him to kill a few minutes of downtime at work, Shen Jiu reasoned in his defense.

Whenever they met up from that point forward, Shen Yuan talked his ear off about his various grievances with Proud Immortal Demon Way.

‘Villains that dig their own graves but don’t bother finishing! Women that lead the protagonist on a three-chapter long subplot just to get to their lewd scenes, only to never see them again! And every single character lost all of their intelligence when the protagonist came around!’ 

And yet he had nothing but praise for said protagonist… almost excessive praise. 

Shen Jiu is annoyed at first but he starts enjoying the company. Which is good because the dog turns out to be a menace.

Well, both dogs could be counted as menaces, just in different ways.

Bing-mei (as they come to call him) would start whining so pitifully when Shen Yuan shut the door between them, thus he often just gave up and took the dog with him whenever it was feasible.

Bing-ge, on the other hand, broke his toys within days, climbed around on furniture he wasn’t allowed on--sometimes when Shen Jiu was looking right at him, too--he barked, he scratched furniture, he tore up pillows.

Despite all the trouble he was causing for his master, Shen Jiu would no longer entertain the idea of giving him up. Not after Bing-ge tore up three separate muggers on three separate occasions and growled at the person who kept taking his parking space until it never happened again.

But the biggest takeaway from their conversations, for Shen Jiu, wasn’t webnovels or dogs. It made him start to realize how lonely he'd been. 

The only other person he really spoke to was halfway around the world for their work and they only spoke a couple of times a month. Now that Shen Yuan was around, Shen Jiu actually started to have things to look forward to besides the monotony of work--knocks on the door, long walks with the dogs, the occasional cup of tea afterward on colder days...

Shen Jiu was never the sort to be up-front with his feelings, so he found a way to show his gratitude by helping Shen Yuan with his confidence issues. He started encouraging him to go out more, and to put a little more effort into his looks when he did. This morphed into helping clean up his squalid apartment since Shen Jiu could barely stand to look at it when he came over. 

Months later, Shen Jiu’s recommendation had helped Shen Yuan to land an entry-level job. That, and a steady habit of going out once a week, gave them something else to do and talk about.

Progress was slow, but visible. Shen Yuan seemed a little less awkward in public with each passing week.

One night they were leaning on Shen Yuan’s balcony. It was a night of celebration, for he’d just earned his very first promotion, and Shen Jiu had brought over wine for the occasion.

He found himself leaning closer to Shen Jiu, telling himself it was just to get a better look at him in the dim light of the city night. His focus wasn’t the best even when he was sober after all. Yet Shen Yuan didn’t stop. And when Shen Jiu turned to look at him in confusion, and their lips met, he didn’t withdraw for several seconds.

Neither did Shen Jiu.

Shen Yuan tried to flee as soon as he realized what he’d done only for Shen Jiu to pull him back saying:

"Don't run, take responsibility. We talked about this."

[thekitsune]

MikaSasha Week Day 8 - Wedding/Future

And my submission for today! Okay a quick note, this submission is a continuation to my submission for yesterday’s prompt that I just uploaded. Please read it first so you can understand some of the references in this.

Also, there are a few characters in this that I plan on drawing, but I ran out of time thanks to work. So, I will try to draw them and have them up tomorrow. Sorry, they were suppose to be the extra bonus submission for today :( I really wanted to end the week off with posting them. I hope you all will be okay with waiting until tomorrow to see them.

"Mama! Mama! Mommy wanted me to come get you!" a young brunette girl shouted as she ran over to an older woman in her late 20s or early 30s. The girl was a small four year-old with long brown hair and large, bright blue eyes. She was wearing a simple white dress with the stitching of some kind of potato character on the front. The older woman smiled as she bent down to catch her daughter and lift her up in her arms. Who was this woman, she was Mikasa Blouse, proud wife of Sasha Blouse, and even prouder mother of three. One such girl was this bundle of joy, Mina Blouse. Named after her and her wife's friend who sadly passed away back in the day. She was surprised when Sasha suggested the name, but she was more than happy to honor their friend like that.

"Mina, honey, what did I say about running outside barefooted?" Mikasa asked her daughter who looked away shyly.

"That my feet will get dirtsy," Mina muttered while looking away like she was caught stealing one of her mommy's snacks. Mikasa smiled before planting a kiss on her daughter's forehead.

"Mommy will let you get away with this just once, but be more careful in the future," Mikasa told her before tickling her stomach making her giggle. Walking back to their house, a nice sized house near Sasha's family's ranch, Mikasa smiled as she saw her son trying to get one of their horses to listen to him. The horse though decided to whack him in the face with its tail before trotting off. The boy sat on the ground with a pout before smiling as he spotted his younger sister and mother.

"Mom! Mina, you little pipsqueak where did you run off to? Mama wanted me to look for you," he stated which caused Mina to pout before sticking her tongue out and making a face at him. The boy was Nico Blouse, Sasha and Mikasa's only son. Named after family friend, Niccolo. Mikasa wasn't too happy when Sasha suggested the name, (Sasha liked the name, but she didn't want it to be exactly the same so she shortened it. Mikasa...was jealous and thought Sasha secretly had feelings for him until Sasha whacked her in the back of the head and told her to cut it out. Her heart only belonged to Mikasa) but over time she grew to love it. (However, Mikasa always told Nico to never call Niccolo, 'Uncle Niccolo,' totally not because she was still jealous of how much Sasha loved his food, but because...well she was still thinking of why)

Nico had short black hair and a small scar on his cheek from a wolf that had attacked him when he was younger. Sasha had managed to save him from taking too much damage before Mikasa rushed in to kill it. After making sure Sasha hadn't pushed herself too hard as well as didn't get hurt too bad, the two took Nico back home and checked him for injuries while also calming him down. The boy was shaken, but he was inspired to become a great hunter like his mama was before her injury.

"If mama wanted you to find your younger sister, honey, why were you playing with the horse?" Mikasa asked her son who froze before looking away, "Honey?"

"I...I...I'll go tell Mama that you found Mina, Mom!" Nico shouted before turning and running away as quickly as he could. Mikasa sighed before continuing on her trek back to the house. Mina happily nuzzled into the crook of her neck as she continued to the house.

"Kaa-san?" Mikasa stopped once more and looked over. A girl who looked to be the spitting image of her as a child stood there in front of the door. The only difference between the two was the fact that she had a streak of brown hair going down her long black hair and she had golden-brown eyes. She wore overalls, a white long sleeved shirt, and red boots along with a pair of work gloves.

"Yes Yumi?" Mikasa asked her eldest daughter. Yumi Blouse, named after Mikasa's deceased mother, the girl was hard-working and helped out with all the chores at the house along with her grandparent's house. While she didn't want to grow up to be a hunter or farmer, she was more than happy to help her family. She was their first bundle of joy, and she made sure to be a responsible older sister for her younger siblings. She was the only child to inherit Mikasa's Japanese ancestry and has embraced it even more than her Kaa-san going so far as to use terms they learned from their Japanese allies back in the day as well as sewing Japanese clothes and making Japanese cuisine, much to her Mom's joy.

"Mom said that she had something special planned for you so I'll take Mina with me. Armin-ojisan and Annie-obachan are going to take us out to shop while Nico is going to continue his cooking training with Niccolo-san," Yumi told her Kaa-san while taking off her gloves, revealing the Ackerman symbol on the back of her right hand. Mikasa looked over at the house with wonder, curious at what Sasha had planned, before handing Mina to her eldest child. Mina nuzzled her older sister while cheering about getting to spend time with 'Uncie Armin and Auntie Annie.'

After making sure that Yumi and Mina headed down the right, and safe, path to Armin's and Annie's house, Mikasa continued on into the house. Opening the door, she was surprised to see her beautiful wife, Sasha Blouse, standing in front of a large feast while wearing her more festive clothes. "Happy Anniversary, Mika," Sasha simply stated causing Mikasa's eyes to water lightly before she moved forward and embraced her wife.

She never would have thought that things would turn up this way all of those years ago when she first began training to fight Titans. She had always planned to just protect Eren and be there for him and Armin for the rest of their lives, but then she met this girl, this wonderful, kind, beautiful girl who made her want to dream about more. Wanted her to wish for more. She began bonding with this girl, she began caring more and more with this girl, she began loving this girl, and for once, she didn't think about only protecting Eren and Armin until her eventual death, she began thinking and dreaming about a happy life with this beautiful girl.

Then a mere ten years ago, she nearly lost the love of her life by a gunshot. Through a miracle, she managed to pull through, but not unscathed. No longer able to help them in the war, hunt, or work on the ranch, Sasha was confined to doing simple and easy tasks that wouldn't put too much stress on her heart. After the end of the war, the world entered a more peaceful era which finally allowed the two to marry each other. And then a year and a half later, they were graced with their first child. A year later, they were graced with their second. And three years later, they were graced with their third bundle of joy. Their children brought them an even greater joy and made their lives even better.

Walking over to her wife, she gently kissed her before pulling her close, "Happy Anniversary, Sasha. I'm sorry I didn't remember." Sasha just giggled before kissing her back.

"It's fine honey, I know you're busy with the work around the house. I wish I could be more help, but I'm happy that I can at least cook for us and help with the kids," Sasha told Mikasa who pouted before picking her wife up bridal style and kissing her again.

"Do not feel bad about not being able to help with the hard work. You can't help your injury. I will work as hard as possible if it means that you will continue living long and healthy," Mikasa reassured her wife while spinning around to the dinner that Sasha cooked, "Now then, why don't we enjoy this so we can move on and have some fun before the kids come back."

Blushing bright red, Sasha chuckled as she lightly punched Mikasa's shoulder. "You sly dog, you. Are you trying to seduce me?" Sasha teased her wife who just leaned in and replied with a husky voice, "Depends, is it working?"

Feeling her blush deepen, Sasha buried her face in Mikasa's shoulder while Mikasa just chuckled and continued to the dinner.

Yeah, they earned this peace and happiness. And she was happy to keep it for as long as possible.

[chachkayes]

An Unlikely Support System - Hayes and Amelia

Yesterday’s episode may or may not have completely inspired me to write a bunch of fics. So prepare for about 4 new fics from me today, and then none for awhile afterwards unless something really sparks my interest because I have GOT to start on my last final for school that’s due in 4 days, and then I have to work. A lot. Christmas season is about to get hectic. I plan on uploading 1 Merhayes Christmas fic on Christmas day. And it’s super cute and fluffy. Anyways, enjoy this fic of Hayes and Amelia talking following the events of 17x06. This one follows canon. The next one will be an AU. Then I’ll post the second canon following fic, before the last one (the longest one) which will be back to AU. Enjoy!

“Shepherd, you okay?” Hayes called out as he noticed Amelia walking slowly through the hospital, almost in a daze. “Huh?” She responded, snapping out of her worries to look up at the person who’d called her name. “Are you alright? Did something happen with the kidnapper?” Hayes asked as he approached Amelia. “Oh, uh, no. He’s still alive.” Amelia tried to stop the tears welling up in her eyes as Hayes looked at her, concerned. “You look upset. Do you want to talk about it?” Amelia instantly understood why Meredith liked hanging out with Hayes. He was gentle, he didn’t push, but he offered to be a listening ear for the people he cared about when they needed it.

“It’s Meredith.” She finally said as she wrestled with her emotions in her head. Hayes’ heart sunk at the sound of distress in Amelia’s voice as she said Meredith’s name. “She… had woken up. And she was doing great.” Amelia took a deep breath. “Wait, she woke up?” Hayes said, confused. He hadn’t heard from anyone that she’d woken up. He would’ve gone to see her for a moment, to hear her voice and make her laugh when he was able to. “Yeah. She did. But…” Amelia’s voice trailed off as she felt herself start to cry. “The patient in the room across from her started to code. And so, she took off her oxygen, disconnected her IV and went to help because she didn’t think the code team was getting there quick enough.” She continued, with a slight laugh, trying her best to compose herself. Hayes cracked a half-smile. Of course Meredith would do that – she had once again proven herself to be exactly what he’d said she was – fierce, and someone with crazy amounts of teeth and grit. This news wasn’t surprising to him.

“But-” Amelia said sorrowfully, shaking her head before making eye contact with him and tearing up. “She collapsed. After she finished in the patient’s room.” This was the news that surprised him. “What? Is she okay?” He said, turning around, wondering if he should go check on her. “Hayes…” Amelia said again, placing her hand on his arm. “She was placed on a ventilator. She’s not doing good, Hayes. And I don’t know what to do, or how to tell the kids, Link, Maggie, Cristina, or Alex.” She said, tears falling freely from her eyes. This was the news that broke him. “I know you guys wer- are close. And I feel awful that nobody told you that she was awake. You deserved the chance to see her and talk to her.” She said as she placed her hand on his arm again.

“The last time I talked to her… she told me that she was afraid to fall asleep, because she was scared that she wouldn’t wake up. I told her that everyone was scared of her because she was so fierce, and she fought to no ends over the smallest things. That this virus had nothing on her.” Hayes closed his eyes as he told this to Amelia. He hadn’t shared their conversation with anyone. “You’ve tested negative right?” Amelia said after they’d stood in silence, sharing their grief for Meredith. “Yeah, why?” He looked at her, and sniffled. She pulled him into a hug. She knew they both needed it. She knew Hayes wouldn’t announce it publicly, but she could tell that he cared for her sister a lot, and that he had no one around to comfort him through this because they kept their developing friendship so under the radar. So, she decided that she’d be there for him. Because he was going to need it, and so was she.

After they pulled back from their hug, Amelia pulled a smile from deep within her emotions. “Shepherd?” Hayes said as she was about to walk away. “Yeah?” She turned back around. “The night she first collapsed; I was the one that found her in the parking lot. And I’ve been worried sick about her ever since. After she fell asleep, I hadn’t heard much about her condition from anyone, which was terrifying. So, thank you for updating me. I appreciate it.” He smiled weakly at her. “Thank you for finding her and being there for her. I’m glad she has a friend like you.” Hayes nodded, appreciating Amelia’s kind words. “Night, Shepherd.” Hayes said, directing a small smile her way.

As awful as the world around him seemed, he was glad to have Amelia’s support. He knew that they both would need as much support as they could get while Meredith was on the vent. “Night, Hayes. Stay safe.” She said, walking away. The feeling was bittersweet as she headed home. Hayes decided that he’d go to his hotel for a few hours, talk to his boys, get some rest, and then go back as early as possible to sit with Meredith and talk to her for a little while. She needed him again, and even if she couldn’t hear him, he’d be there for her. He promised her that when he first found her in the parking lot, and he wasn’t about to break it now.

[ayamari-no-goshi]

Verboten 13 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary:   AU. When Danny was five years old, he went missing for 2 weeks. In the years that follow, his family tried to make sense of what happened, only for the truth to be discovered years later.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, language. Be prepared for some very weird things

Parings: Danny/Sam

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr. This fic is very heavily inspired by folklore surrounding mysterious wilderness disappearances

Chapter 13

After his mother made sure he ate something light, Danny escaped to his bedroom and set up a video chat with his friends. Once all of them were certain they would not be overheard, Danny told them about the strange green wall that saved him from whatever tried to attack him.

His friends were convinced it had something to do with his ghostly side. However, he wasn't as certain. Up until that point, the only ghostly abilities he'd seen were the random bouts of invisibility and intangibility of his arms and legs. Not only that, he hadn't been able to switch to his ghostly appearance since he returned from the other side.

Although it took a while, he eventually opened up to his friends about the little information he had about his abilities. Instead of being freaked out, they seemed fascinated. After a quick argument, Danny eventually gave in and agreed to let them attempt to help him figure things out.

It wasn't exactly the result he wanted. While he knew he was alive, he couldn't ignore the fact part of him wasn't exactly human. Up until he was released from the hospital, he thought he might be able to ignore what happened to him. However, between the events at school and whatever the thing that tried attacking him was, he knew it was impossible. Clockwork and Frostbite even warned him he might be in danger in the world of the living.

Speaking of Clockwork, how would the ghost contact him? Or better yet, how would Danny contact him? Did the ghost know what that thing was? Or how it could be stopped? If anything, that was the sort of very important information he needed.

Danny sighed and prepared for bed. He hoped everything would start making more sense in the morning.

….

When he finally wandered down to the kitchen the next morning for breakfast, Danny was surprised to find Vlad Masters talking with his parents. His unofficial uncle stood and swept him into a hug once he realized he was there.

"Daniel, I'm so happy to see you're alright." Vlad made a show of being concerned once he released him. "I'm deeply sorry I was unable to visit you when you were hospitalized. Between the police investigation from both my employee's and your class' disappearances and the resulting paperwork, it was impossible to make the trip."

As much as Danny usually didn't mind the visits from Vlad, today, the man sent shivers down his spine. It didn't make any sense. As unnerved as he was, he figured he was just being paranoid and tried to shrug it off. "It's fine. I mean, I know how busy you are. I did get your 'get well' gift though. I can't believe you were able to get the blue prints for that shuttle! It usually takes at least a few years for NASA to release information like that."

"It was no trouble at all, my boy. But, your parents told me something troubling. You were attacked yesterday?"

Danny just shrugged as he grabbed some of the pancakes waiting on the counter. "Yeah, the police are looking for the guy," he eventually answered after he sat down and took a bite.

"Honey, Vlad's here at our request." After raising a questioning eyebrow at his mother, she explained, "Your father and I did some digging on the thing you saw yesterday. On accident, we discovered other similar reports, not just from here, but from other places where there have been a lot of strange deaths. To be blunt, Danny we're not exactly sure what you saw, but we're becoming worried something dangerous has started crossing over into our world."

"So why…?"

His dad startled everyone by pulling Vlad into a side hug. "Your mom contacted Vladdy here to see if he had some contacts for our research, and he decided he wanted to directly get involved. Isn't that great?"

His mom fondly shook her head as Vlad tried to pull himself out of his dad's grasp. "What your father means is that Vlad has offered to both fund and assist with the research this time around," his mother clarified.

"I felt it was prudent I was more directly involved," Vlad explained as he straightened out his suit. "If I understood what your parents told me correctly, you didn't see a person?" With that question, the normal businessman seemed to vanish, and a stranger suddenly appeared in his place as his expression turned predatory.

The expression reminded Danny of Plasmius, and it made the uneasy feeling worse. "Uh… I told my parents everything I saw." He quickly finished his pancakes and ignored the desire to get a second helping. His parents even got the real maple syrup this time. It was so tempting, but he needed to get away from Vlad. Once his plate was rinsed and put in the sink, he headed towards the doorway. "Well, I need to get going. I promised Sam and Tucker I would meet up with them."

"Young man, you're not seriously thinking about going out today after everything that happened?"

He just rolled his eyes at his mother. "I think as long as I stick to the main streets and don't try to dodge behind buildings again I'll be fine." Before he left the room, he glanced at Vlad. "Hey… this might sound weird, but… uh, has anyone else gone missing from your company?"

The man's eyes narrowed at the question. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean, Daniel."

"It's nothing. Forget I said anything." Not wanting to be questioned any further, Danny ran out of the room to get ready. After getting ready in record time, he sped from the house and towards the park.

….

Well, he could have done a better job at forming an escape plan. Sure, he managed to get to the park without being attacked or having his parents decide they needed to follow him, but he wasn't supposed to meet up with Sam and Tucker for another hour. Groaning, he plopped himself down on an empty bench and reviewed his options.

He could continue to sit where he was, but being a teenager, boredom would quickly get to him. Checking his phone, he realized he probably didn't have enough of a charge to keep him entertained while he waited. Now that he thought about it, ever since his misadventure to the land of the dead, it had trouble keeping a charge. Something about that place probably fried it.

Not wanting to risk it going dead, he thought about his other options. Fast food was out. Tucker would kill him if he took a trip to the Nasty Burger without him. He could walk around town, but after what happened yesterday, he really didn't want to risk running into whatever that thing was again. Actually, what was he doing in the middle of the park, alone, when that thing was running around town?

Paranoid, he glanced around. Other than a couple nearby trees, his current position put him in a rather open area of the park. No one or thing would easily be able to sneak up on him, and now that he thought about it, the weird feeling he got before it appeared wasn't present. While he wasn't completely relieved, it was better than nothing, and it still left him with nothing to do.

He checked the area again. The park was strangely empty for the time of day, though with all the strange things happening around town, he figured people were just staying away. So, maybe he could try to work on control his abilities a little. Having some sort of handle on the invisibility and intangibility would be nice.

After setting an alarm on his phone so he wouldn't forget to meet up with his friends, he started focusing on his hands. When his abilities activated, it often felt as if the affected limb went numb, so he focused on that. However, attempting to will his own arm to go numb was just as hard as it seemed, and he quickly grew frustrated. Though, he did notice a cold child run up his spine.

"How quaint. Didn't your allies give you any information when they helped you escape?"

Startled at the voice, Danny jump up only to find Plasmius floating behind him. As he backed away, he realized the scenery changed. The purple and green swirls of the sky immediately alerted him to the fact he was back in the land of the dead. How in the world did Plasmius do that?

"It's a nice trick, isn't it? But it's really not that hard. Creatures like us who have ties to this world can easily slip into it. It's only difficult when we try to bring the living with us."

"I'll remember that," Danny replied dryly. "What… what do you want?"

"There are many things that I want," the creature admitted, "but right now, I'm only interested in your progress and possibly to trade some information."

"Well, I'm still living, if that's what you want."

"Yes, but not quite. While I loathe to say I'm not as skilled in being able to detect other ghosts and spirits as some of the others I've encountered, I can still detect the faint thrum of a ghostly core within you. Why don't you change into your more fitting form?"

"More fitting?" Danny repeated faintly. This thing thought him looking like a ghost was more fitting? "Sorry to disappoint you, but I haven't been able to chance since I came home."

"Really? With how much ambient energy is available in your home, I would have thought it would have occurred fairly regularly as you adjusted. No matter. It seems your body is naturally responding to this world."

"Huh?" His attention turned to the flash of light around his midsection. Knowing what that meant, he hugged his stomach as he tried to stop the process. His core was active. He could feel its power trying to surge through him. "Come on. Stop it." He didn't want to give Plasmius what he wanted, but his feeble attempts meant nothing and the power overcame him. As he fell to his knees as his body recovered from the recoil of trying to stop it, he sensed Plasmius float closer to him.

"It's remarkable how human you still look in that form. I would have thought there would have been a more drastic change as your core settled."

"You mean you were expecting me to look something more like you?"

"No, not necessarily like me, but it is unusual to find a ghost who could easily pass as a human without attempting to hide anything."

Standing, Danny glared at the specter. "Are you just here to marvel at how weird I am? Or can I go now?" It was one thing for him to be unsettled by the changes, but he didn't need some creepy ghost, who happened to be partially responsible for what happened to him, commenting on how he was different than other ghosts. Of course he was different! He was still human.

The ghost pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "I am getting somewhat sidetracked. Now, Daniel, like I said, I approached you for information and nothing more. Firstly, what do you know of what is stalking this city? You encountered it recently, did you not?"

"How did you…?" A chill ran down Danny's spine as he backed away. Was this thing spying on him?

"I believe I mentioned that I do try to keep taps on you. I still have not given up on wanting you to become my eventual heir after all, but rumors of it and others like it have been circling for a while. Ghosts older than I despise them, but it has been difficult to procure information regarding them."

"You probably know more than I do then," Danny replied. Plasmius did seem like he only wanted to talk, but that didn't mean he could change his mind. If he did decide he wanted to attack, there was little Danny could do to stop him. If he was able to get out of this, he was definitely going to focus on working on his powers just so he could defend himself against Plasmius. "It looked like a deformed person. It… it…" The memory of it holding something red and the sound of dripping blood made his stomach turn. "It took… part of that person. When it left, it turned into an old lady."

Plasmius frowned as he mulled over the information. "Daniel, what exactly did it take?"

The image flashed across his mind again, and his shook his head to try to get rid of it. "Look, I don't know. There was blood down the front of the guy's chest. It was part of his body. I don't want to think about it anymore."

"Hmm… I wonder if that was the intention or an afterthought. I will investigate that. If it was intentional, then the rumors I've heard may in fact be true," the ghost muttered to himself before glancing at Danny again. "Now, I have one final bit of information I need from you. What exactly do you know of my involvement with the companies of Vlad Masters?" His almost friendly attitude turned icy.

"Involvement?" Danny replied nervously. He could feel Plasmius' energy building, and he knew the specter wouldn't hesitate to attack if he wasn't careful enough with his words. "All I know if that you took one of Vlad's employees for experiments." After debating for a moment, he slowly added, "The person who helped me escape said you've done a lot of experiments like that. Wait, are you spying on Vlad so you can get new people for whatever you're doing?"

Nothing he said was technically a lie. However, he was definitely wasn't going to say anything about how Tucker managed to copy some of the ghost's files and discovered he was spying on what seemed like all aspects of Vlad's companies. Yeah, that was going to remain a secret.

Plasmius narrowed his eyes which prompted Danny to back away. "Butter biscuits! I seem to have unintentionally given away too much. I believe our meeting has come to an end, but mark my words, boy, it would do you well to stay out of my business. What I'm doing is to benefit both of us." With that warning, he faded from view.

Danny spun around to attempt to figure out where he went only to find himself back in the park. There didn't seem to be any sign of Plasmius, and he didn't seem to have any of the weird chills he tended to get before something strange happened.

He should be happy he hadn't been injured by the other ghost, but the interaction left him unsettled. How did Plasmius know where he was? Was he stalking him? Actually, seeing as the ghost orchestrated an entire scheme to get to him when his school was on a camping trip that was probably the case. To make matters worse, now that he was something in between a human and a ghost, Plasmius could pull another stunt like that any time he wanted.

Not wanting to stay out in the open any longer, he grabbed his phone and ran. According to the clock, he still had some time before he needed to meet up with his friends, but that was not going to deter him from going to Sam's house. As silly as it was, her parents' anti-paranormal stance almost acted as an unofficial ward. If anything tried creating chaos in that house, he was positive Mrs. Manson would somehow throw it out of the house by sheer force of will.

Once he was out of the park, he took a moment to text Sam to let her know he was on the way. While he knew she wouldn't exactly mind if he showed up early, it was still better to let her know so she could keep her parents at bay. The only tolerated him after all.

When he was done, he noticed something off about his reflection. His hair was still white. Panicked, he checked himself, and sure enough, it seemed as if he was still in his ghost form. He tried to trigger the change, but he had no idea what to do to reverse it. When he was with Frostbite, his body just seemed to do it automatically. Not wanting to say out in the open any longer than he had to, he ran.

As he approached Sam's house, he called her to give her a heads up on his problem. Her response was to have him climb up the rope ladder she had for her regular escapes so he could get to her room without risking her parents seeing him before the problem was fixed.

Ten minutes and one harrowing rope ladder climb later (seriously, that thing was a safety hazard), Danny found himself sitting on Sam's bed while she examined him. Her pokes and prods made him self-conscious to the point where he actually pulled away from her.

"I get it. I look weird, but will you seriously stop?"

She shook her head as she sat down beside him. "In all honesty, you don't look that weird at all. Compared to the last time I saw you like this, you actually look healthy." When he gave her an incredulous look, she grabbed his hands. "What? I'm being serious. Aside from the glow, you look fine. The first time, you had this weird green tinge to your skin which was really creepy."

"Thanks? I think?"

Realizing she was still holding his hands, she let go and stood up. "Ignoring that, my parents are actually still home for once. Let's see if we can get you back to normal, well, your version of it, that is." At his indignant 'hey', she just laughed.

==================================

So, the little jab about real maple syrup... To be honest, I don't care for the stuff, but so many people I know make a clear distinction between normal store bought maple syrup and the "real" stuff (apparently you just have to double check what you grab?). And because I'm thinking about it, Karo isn't fake maple syrup; it's corn syrup.

Did you know it's fun to write Plasmius? His speech is a bit odd as he tends to attempt to sound as educated as possible while still throwing in some causal aspects. I find it that balance fun to write.

[13atoms]

Deep Focus: Chapter 2 [Tom Hiddleston x Reader]

Summary: Tom is a successful porn director with a romantic streak which proves very popular with his female audience. His resident porn actress and business partner has been with him through thick and thin, the two of them growing completely inseparable, even as her own career starts taking off.

But working in such close proximity is intense, and burgeoning feelings threaten to complicate their professional relationship.

Mature, smut, porn director!AU, ethical porn production discussion, porn-star-and-coworker!reader. Friends to lovers, slow-ish burn.

This chapter: [6.4k] Ao3 link

For the first time in forever, you were at the studio before Tom.

You couldn’t remember a day he’d been later than you, and you finally started to work alone as the clock ticked past midday. As punishment you sat at his desk, booting up your computer where his usually sat and ignoring the quiet fear that something was wrong.

The studio was too quiet. The kettle was cold. There were no props strewn about the place, no piles of scripts left on every free surface. There wasn’t a random actor there to audition, or tape marking out marks for a future shoot. As you stared out of the office doorway, absorbing the clean, lifeless space, you kind of hated it.

The camera was back where it belonged, the corner you’d shot in yesterday was empty. The lights were all packed away and the space seemed huge again. Like it had yesterday. If you closed your eyes, you could still see the cosy bed in that corner, the place on the floor Tom had sat as he watched you, the heavy black lens that couldn’t distract you from his bright eyes watching you.

Had you done something wrong?

You tapped nervously at your keyboard, opening your inbox just for something to do.

And there was that job offer: staring you in the face. You hadn’t replied yet, still undecided. It was a huge pay check. A one-off gig with a studio you knew Tom didn’t really like. They were… cutthroat. Rough. More traditional in their… treatment of their stars. You knew they were professionals, but the content they produced wasn’t exactly morally what Tom approved of.

The film they wanted you for was brutal. It would be safe, but it would be intense. Probably demeaning. Against the principles Tom stood for. You closed the email again.

The two of you had never thought to discuss exclusivity, and you wondered if it was implied in the working relationship you had. If he just… expected it. You needed to bring it up with him soon. You’d been avoiding the email for long enough.

“What else?” you sighed to yourself, half-expecting one of Tom’s usual snarky replies as you talked to yourself.

The office was silent. Your inbox was boring. You only had one more unopened email. As usual, it was from Tom, though one email was better than the usual half-dozen he sent you every night. It was titled: Approval?

That was the usual process, you approved the videos before they went live. But what was he planning on posting? There wasn’t anything for this week.

Unlisted on his site, you immediately recognised the set from today. The timestamp said forty minutes. For a moment you were gobsmacked, wondering how late Tom had worked to have that footage exported and edited already. Wondering why he’d uploaded it already. And how forty minutes had slipped through your fingers, watched silently.

It was a startlingly quick turnaround. He had to have a reason, he usually did. Yet your hand still shook as you hit play.

You winced at hearing your own voice, seeing yourself so out of control like that. But it all looked good. Scrubbing quickly through the timeline, there was one edit you were looking for. One clumsy edit that would look like a jump-cut, and you feared might ruin the film.

You didn’t see it. Instead, the whole video was uncut, even the moment you were sure he would remove. You looked debauched, ruined, hair messy and your body thoroughly overworked. But you could only look at your face. At the vulnerability, as you looked past the camera, staring at Tom.

Why did he leave that in?

In the moment you hadn’t realised how long you were looking at him, searching for what to do next, desperate for something from him. It was no longer your voice coming from the laptop’s tinny speakers, it was a deeper one. A comforting, soft tone.

“You’re doing amazing,” he said, clear as day. And then, “another one?”

You paused the clip, grimacing at the contorted look of desperation on your own static face, and let your face fall into your hands. Tom was never clumsy. He was a perfectionist. He was never in his own films.

So why had he left that in? You’d have to talk to him about it.

Then you’d have to save this copy of the clip.

Fuck.

The door finally opened, the jingle of Tom’s keys announcing him before he arrived. You didn’t bother to hide your screen.

“Morning,” he greeted, cheery as ever.

“Afternoon,” you returned.

That was his usual joke at your expense. Except he was late for once. He gave you a short laugh, so short you barely recognised it.

“Yeah, I know,” he conceded.

You offered an olive branch; neither of you really cared if the other was late.

“Up all-night editing?”

He hummed approval, barely acknowledging your comments. He’d already glanced over your shoulder as he reached for a folder, not acknowledging that you’d stolen his desk, wordlessly settling in opposite you.

Instead his short nails tapped against the folder, his feet settling against the outer side of the desk, as he seemed to look for the words to say to you.

You’d never noticed how much higher his chair was than your usual one, letting you peer down at him a little. You liked it. And wondered if it was intentional.

“I was surprised you got yesterday’s shoot polished off so quick,” you commented.

He had the nerve to look a little embarrassed.

“It was a good one, I, uh, I thought we could post it today.”

You raised an eyebrow, he kept talking.

“It didn’t even really need editing I mean you were… it was amazing. I think it’ll do really well and –”

He trailed off. You took the chance to interrupt him.

“I think you forgot to edit yourself out. Twenty-eight minute mark.”

You expected him to pull the video up. He just sat there, watching his hands as they tapped across that fucking file.

“You can hear your voice, Tom.”

He finally blinked up at you, and you suddenly realised you hated this. This switched power dynamic. You wanted to give him his big serious job back. Be the annoying, less-serious one who relished in kicking at his desk and winding him up.

This wasn’t fun.

“Is that a problem?” he offered, finally.

Your mouth opened in surprise.

“I mean, it’s your choice. You’ve just never done that before.”

“Hm?”

“I mean, your name’s always there but… you’ve never been in the films before.”

“It’s just my voice,” he brushed it off.

But both of you knew that was a lie.

Because that made him your costar. The person you were… performing to. It made him part of the fantasy itself. You closed the video in front of you. You didn’t need to watch any more. Couldn’t watch any more in front of him.

“Well if that’s all good… then yeah. Send it.”

You couldn’t hide the flatness of your voice, and you caught Tom’s concerned glance. You scooped up your computer before he could say something serious.

“I’ll, uh, give you your desk back,” you smiled, standing to swap seats, “your fancy chiropractic chair is hurting my spine.”

He huffed, but stood to swap places with a good-natured smile. You tried to conceal your jolt of surprise as he brushed past a bit too close. You’d opened your laptop back up again, ready to take on some bullshit task, when Tom reached across to gently close the lid.

“I wanted to talk.”

You set the computer aside, lacing your fingers together instead, your throat closing as you wondered what on earth about. Could he fire you? The seriousness on his face was enough to make you worried.

“What about?”

Your words sounded so flimsy, so much hollower than his rich, clean baritone that you wanted to say them again. Without sounding like a coward.

“Just… yesterday.”

You glanced up once to meet his eyes, but you couldn’t take it. Your focused on the shallow marks your nails left against the back of your hand.

“You seemed unhappy,” he continued, “and although the shoot was great, I just wanted to check in. I ask a lot of you, and I just wondered if it was too much.”

You blinked in surprise, and felt that hot shame rising in your chest. You had a horrible feeling you knew why you’d been so strange. And you couldn’t meet his eyes.

“I’m fine. Sorry, it was an off-day.”

“I’m just worried,” Tom placated, but you only heard concern.

“I can do the job,” you told him firmly. You were close to snapping at him, and you hated yourself for the dismay on his face. “I’ll be back to usual by the next shoot. I think everything being so… quiet… freaked me out.”

Tom closed his eyes, sighing heavily. You were surprised to look up and see his head resting on his knuckles, an unusual agitation in the fidgeting of his body language.

The moment passed in silence, and you watched him in concern. Wondering if you ought to be worried too.

“That was unprofessional. Yesterday. I crossed a line.”

He sounded sombre, so sombre it was jarring. You shook your head, surprised by how seriously he was taking this. How much it seemed to really, really nag at him. You wondered if ‘make it real’ was the nicest direction anyone had ever been given in the entire porn industry.

“You were just directing. We saved a lot of money on production,” you offered, “even if the video’s no good, it was free to make.”

He looked at you seriously, piercingly, and you felt pinned to the chair by the way he appeared to look through you.

“It was the best video we’ve ever made.”

You brushed off the comment. He said that all the time.

“I’m sure it’ll do well –”

“No, it… while I was editing, I just kept thinking… It was good.”

You’d seen his crouch yesterday, the speed he’d sent you off to shower. The memory had accompanied you late into the night. He’d definitely liked the shoot.

You wondered if that meant anything. Maybe not.

When you looked across at Tom, he was beet red.

“If you insist,” you shrugged, keen to move on from the moment.

Tom refused.

“That’s why I’m worried. That was your best work but… I feel like you were upset. Freaked out. If I ever cross a boundary like that you need to tell me. I refuse to be some industry creep, if you want someone else there while we film, or –”

“Who would I have, Tom? There’s no one I trust more than you.”

And suddenly his head was in his hands again, a dismayed groan quiet in his throat, and you wondered if he’d lost sleep over yesterday.

You wondered if he’d lost sleep for the same reasons you had.

“Tell me,” he insisted, words firm. “You have to tell me if I ever make you uncomfortable again.”

“I will,” you promised, “but you didn’t make me uncomfortable yesterday. It’s fine, really. I think I was just – ”

Overwhelmed by you.

“Spaced out.”

He didn’t buy it, but the conversation was going nowhere. You stared out the window behind him. There was nothing out there but a car park, but it was better than trying to work out what was happening in the office.

Tom cleared his throat. You tapped your fingers against your laptop.

That email at the top of your inbox was nagging at you.

“Do you think we need a break?” you offered, and Tom’s head shot up, lines appearing between his eyebrows as he searched your expression.

“What do you mean?”

“The studio. We should shut down for a week. I don’t know, pre-record something. You could book a holiday.”

The wry smile on Tom’s lips told you nothing was further from his mind.

“It could be nice,” he conceded, “only if you promise to take a break too.”

Caught.

“I’ve… I’ve been offered another job.”

Tom took his work seriously. It was his passion. He never accepted the industry for what it was – he dedicated every waking hour to making his work the best. It was the reason his kind, overly-sincere, oversized heart beat.

And in the quiet of the office, you could hear his heart breaking.

“Oh.”

“For one shoot! Not – Jesus – not actually another job. Triple Tricks want me to do a shoot. It’ll be like, one day. And I might need some time off afterwards so we could take the week off.”

Tom had blanched at the mention of Triple Tricks. He had winced at the mention of time off. You studied his face, trying to work out which emotion was seizing hold of him now.

It certainly wasn’t joy.

“Tom?”

He stayed quiet. You hated this schtick. He hated the other studio.

“We don’t have an exclusivity clause, do we? I did try and check.”

“What kind of shoot is it?”

He knew. If you needed time off afterwards, he knew. He was making you say it anyway.

“BDSM.”

You’d be bruised. That much was evident. You’d Googled them, heard of them through peers. But fuck the money was good. It would be zero-preparation. The concept was kind of hot, you thought you could sell it. It wasn’t scripted, you just had to… be a body. This wasn’t what Tom made. But you could still be good at it.

“You know I don’t like it,” he sighed, and you shrugged.

“A pay check is a pay check.”

And that was where you and Tom differed. This was more than money to him.

“Sorry,” you added, the word falling flat as you heard it.

“I can’t stop you, and you’re not exclusive to us, I just…”

“Don’t make it weird, Tom.”

“I do all this, we have this amazing shoot day, and you’re planning on working with ‘Tricks?”

He was being stern. You realised it abruptly, realised it from his growl and his carefully controlled volume, and the white of his knuckles as he clasped them together.

“The money is too good,” you retort, trying to match his firmness, and just feeling cold. The words are an apology.

“I’ve offered you more! If you need it, I can lend you – ”

“You don’t need to ‘lend’ me money, Tom! I earn it. Just like you. And now I can earn more. Wouldn’t you do the same? Name one other actress who only works for one studio.”

“I just want you to be safe.”

You frowned.

“Not as your… director. Or business partner. We’re friends, and they’re bastards over there. I just want you safe.”

“They won’t actually hurt me,” you promise, trying to push away the clips you’d seen online. Not really, you reasoned.

Tom’s expression told you he didn’t believe a word of it. And that he wasn’t just worried about physical pain.

“When’s the shoot?”

“I haven’t said yes yet.”

He sighed.

“You wanted to ask me?”

You nodded, and as soon as you saw his face in his hands, you knew your mind was made up. Tom remained quiet, and you wished you could see the inside of his mind.

“If you’re that against it, I won’t do it.”

The expression of relief on his face as so powerful, you weren’t sure you’d ever forget it. He just nodded, offered you a weak smile, and turned to his computer.

*

You weren’t sure how long you stared at the email you’d written, waiting blankly, as if you could send it telekinetically by staring long enough. It was short, polite, and you really hoped they didn’t test your resolve with a higher counteroffer. But it was done. You couldn’t betray Tom’s morals. Not for less than a very nice car, at least.

Tom had posted the video, you only knew because of your notifications, he’d tagged your work accounts social media accounts in everything to promote it. When you looked up at him, he was waiting to speak to you, hair tousled in the way it was when he absentmindedly tugged at it while he worked.

You could see his apology before you heard it.

“I’m sorry for being harsh. I just – I can’t tell you what to do, but please not them. If it’s another ethical studio you’ve got my blessing, but… not that. I can’t see you like that.”

You knew he couldn’t bear it. You were surprised by the relief you felt, hitting send.

A few minutes later he had made tea, settled in for a day of planning out future videos and not much else. These were your favourite days, just fucking around and dreaming up plots with Tom.

A hand settled on your shoulder as he set your mug in front of you, rubbing a little across the fabric of your shirt. You wanted to lean into his touch.

“You’re getting all of it. The money from that video, I mean. You deserve it.”

You frowned. That wasn’t the deal.

“Halves on everything, remember?”

He didn’t respond, but his hand just stayed there, a comforting weight as he stood over you. You could see his reflection in the window glass, the unusually solemn expression on his face.

“Call it an apology. For you turning down a good pay check.”

You smiled tightly, covering his hand with yours. That seemed to shake him out of his own head, giving your shoulder one last squeeze before he walked away from you.

“You did the edit! It’s your studio,” you protested.

“It’s our studio. And the edit… was a privilege. You made it easy.”

Tom closed the door after he left, busy fussing around with the props cupboard or something. You stared blankly down at your keyboard, wondering what the hell was going on inside his head.

*

As they days passed the incident was forgotten, as your easy friendship with Tom returned. You didn’t hesitate a moment turning down Triple Tricks’ second higher offer, too busy enjoying yourself with Tom. It was just the two of you, preparing for a shoot the next day, sharing the familiar space of the office.

“You’ve seen it a hundred times before!” you laughed, watching as Tom covered his eyes with his palm, his other arm reached out as if to warn you away. Your shirt was already off, bra following as you worked out how to get into the medieval princess costume Tom had ‘invested’ in.

“Not in our office! The bloody windows are open! Anyone could see!”

“Oh no! My modesty!” you mocked, ignoring him as you tried on the outfit, laughing at the tackiness of it.

It certainly was a ‘princess’ outfit, all gauze and corset – definitely not historically accurate – and you wondered where the hell Tom had bought this. You usually sourced costumes, but he’d been insisting on doing more recently. You tried to just appreciate the reduced workload, and ignore the nagging worry that you knew the reasons behind it.

“Help me with the corset?”

Groaning and dramatically uncovering his eyes, Tom circled around the desk to you, already eagerly kicking your jeans off. You’d been ecstatic when Tom told you it arrived, eager to just play dress-up, before the damn thing got ruined.

His fingers traced the edge of the fabric, making sure everything laid comfortably against your skin, and you impatiently waited for him to tighten the back of the bodice. Pointedly ignoring his soft, warm fingertips as they traced the material.

When he tentatively pulled the laces tighter you were pleasantly surprised with his costume choices. It fit like a glove. Rushing to a mirror, you ignored the rush of fondness you felt for the man as he eagerly followed.

“My tits look great!”

He fidgeted, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, and you tried not to relish in the blush painting his cheeks. He did that a lot recently: blushing. It was delightful, to see it reflected in the mirror.

“I, um, yeah.”

Turning to face him, he finally broke into a laugh, hands finding your elbows in that casual way he liked to touch you.

“What’s the end game here? I get fucked by a bunch of knights?”

He snorted, still fussing with the lacing behind you, and you bit your lip as his fingers tested the give of the fabric to make sure you weren’t being crushed.

“You make it sound so romantic. Haven’t you read the script?”

“Not yet. Sorry, Tommy.”

He tugged on the laces suddenly, making you jerk back an inch, grumbling as he laughed. The tightness of the fabric against your torso when he did that didn’t feel half bad. You filed that away for another day.

“What’s your plot then?” you teased, turning to face him.

You hadn’t realised you were practically in his arms, and you saw his gaze shift down from your face for a second before he spoke.

“A competition? For your hand in marriage?”

He crouched teasingly, lifting your hand, and for a split second you wondered if he was actually planning on kissing your knuckles. Nope.

A glance through the open door reminded you why you were here.

“That’s a common fantasy, right?” he faltered, the teasing edge of his voice dulled just a little with questioning.

“Yeah, yeah. For sure. I’m not sure about in porn though.”

He pursed his lips, thinking, as you finally got the hips of the dress situated and stepped into the studio to find a mirror.

He followed you as you examined how your body looked in the costume, and you caught the quirk of his lip as you spun, not hiding your excitement.

“You haven’t asked me what kind of competition,” he taunted. You took the bait.

“What kind?”

“Who can make you cum first?”

For just a moment, you didn’t know what to say. The outfit took on a whole new meaning as you imagined the shoot, where you would be in twenty-four hours’ time.

“You do know the way to a woman’s heart,” you hummed, not quite realising the implication to your words until you’ve said them. “I mean, what makes them tick. That’s hot.”

He chuckled.

“Glad you approve.”

There was a reupholstered chaise in the studio that he’d bought for the shoot, and you’d been enjoying lounging on it. Tomorrow you wondered if you’ve be enjoying it more, or cursing Tom.

Depended on the guys, you supposed.

“Who’ve you got?”

“Three guys, and a girl. Two of the guys are twins, it’s their whole thing. Seems as bit weird, but whatever.”

You frowned. Was that in the budget?

“That’s expensive, and… I don’t know them?”

He looked away from you in the reflection.

“I put it all on the spreadsheets. I didn’t’ want to bother you – ”

God. If he’d fucked up those cashflow statements, you were going to throttle him. He knew it, too. The corset just made you angrier as it restricted your ability to inhale and shout at him.

“They’re going to be inside me, Tom. I’d prefer if you bothered me.”

He winced, and you immediately regretted being so snappy, seeing the tightening of his broad shoulders as he stood beside you in the mirror.

“I… that’s fair. Sorry,”

You let the argument pass, a silent acceptance of his apology as you fidgeted with the costume again. He was trying. You trusted him.

The two of you definitely needed to talk.

“If I’m gonna be a princess I should have a tiara,” you teased lightly, eager to nitpick anything, just for Tom to be wrong.

Instead he smiled, smarmy bastard, disappearing into his office and returning with a tacky jewellery box.

“Your highness,” he held it out to you, and you rolled your eyes, frustrated by how quickly his stupid antics could win you back.

Flipping open the lid of the box, he revealed a surprisingly nice tiara. Certainly more a bit nicer than the plastic prop jewellery you’d expected, though certainly nothing outrageous. He set it delicately on your hair, wary of damaging it. You laughed at it immediately fell half-way out, sitting crooked an inch above your forehead.

“Absolutely majestic,” Tom teased lightly, but you sensed the underlying tension in his voice. An olive branch.

“Good choice,” you approved, reaching up to properly fix the piece in your hair.

In the mirror, you caught Tom beam.

*

The shoot ran perfectly. Like clockwork. Everyone was lovely to you, nothing chaffed, and you wondered if Tom’s guilt was the solution to finally having a problem-free shoot day. Well, aside from that other problem-free shoot day. But the two of you didn’t talk about that, even as the video had exploded in popularity. You were enjoying a healthy income stream from it.

You had no doubt this video would do well too. It had been hot, at least from what you’d seen in the monitor. It was more like Tom’s usual productions, full of reshoots and dialogue and an entire storyline which culminated in you reclined on the chaise, corset shoved below your bust and skirts pushed up.

For a whole afternoon you had just followed Tom’s commands on how much you were supposed to be enjoying the various different fingers, cocks and mouths of your costars. It didn’t escape your notice that he hadn’t written you anything remotely difficult for weeks.

“Lay back and look pretty,” he’d winked to you between conversations with the rest of the cast and crew, and you had smirked from your chaise.

Inwardly, you wondered what the hell was going on.

The tiara had pressed against your scalp as you’d been fucked, and the reminder of Tom’s sweetness made it difficult to keep your gaze on your costars. There was a tall figure behind the cameras seemingly begging for your attention. You realised you had forgotten to react for a few seconds, so distracted by your own thoughts, faking a moan as one of the men shoved just a little too deep into you.

“Wait!”

Fuck.

Tom must have seen you wince. The man – Michael, you forced yourself to remember – nodded to you apologetically, stroking more lube onto himself at Tom’s behest. He was the last of the actors to have a turn at pleasing you, and frankly you were exhausted.

“We can redo that with a close up, then we’ll move on,” Tom was declaring, but your mind was elsewhere, your body in that strange state of physical pleasure and emotional detachment. Your mind was elsewhere.

The chill of the room was getting to you, and you caught yourself shivering as the cameras were moved.

“Okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, blinking in surprise at the feeling of Tom’s hand cupping your jaw, refusing to meet his eyes. He’d see right through you if you made eye contact. Satisfied, he moved on, behind the cameras again barking the politest orders to prepare for a few close up shots.

Oh, god. Time to go again.

Michael muttered an apology as his hands found your bare breast again, pinching at your nipple to make it harden again, and in that moment of tenderness you saw something familiar in his blue eyes.

“You are beautiful, you know.”

If you closed your eyes, that voice could belong to someone else.

You smiled, surprised by a more genuine sense of arousal settling deep in your stomach. As Michael gently probed a couple of fingers inside of you, testing you were wet enough to take him again, you had to bite back a moan.

He noticed. Of course he did. With a near-clinical curiosity he sought out your g-spot, gently pressing against it, and you felt yourself clench at the light chuckle he made.

“This could be fun,” he whispered to you, and you bit your lip, melting ever so slightly more into the chaise as he withdrew his fingers with a final stretch, rubbing a few hard circles on your clit as he left.

When Tom called action, you barely heard. You were too busy thinking about how much you actually wanted what was about to happen next. This wasn’t just fun, or pleasure. You needed it.

All the shot called for was Michael fucking you. He had to be ‘the best’ as Tom’s script had dictated. You weren’t aware he would be quite such a good fit for the role. He teased you with few shallow thrusts before doing what the shot demanded, his thick cock spearing into you in a way that made you gasp for air and clench at the sheer size of him.

He was grunting, saying something which fitted Tom’s storyline, but all you could do was take him. You were focusing on breathing, on reacting, you had no memory of what the script had said. You could barely remember his name. His fingers on your clit were giving you plenty of reason to forget everything, surprisingly dexterous as he fucked into you with the same pace as those tight little circles which were driving you closer and closer to forgetting you were on camera.

“Go on, sweetheart.”

That wasn’t in the script. It wasn’t even for the microphones. As he fucked you into the chaise, one hand bracing and the other working your clit like it was actually part of his job, Michael whispered only to you. And fuck, you could have sworn that ‘sweetheart’ sounded identical to how Tom said it.

You tried. You tried to be professional, to wait for instruction to fake an orgasm, but damn it Michael was good. He was pounding into you and pleasuring your clit and talking like that, and before you knew it he was pausing slammed inside of you so you could moan through an orgasm. With your eyes screwed shut and your senses overwhelmed, you clung to him, desperate for him not to stop with those damn circles on your clit, damn whatever the script called for.

In your most impressive acting to date, you remembered to moan the character’s name as your pussy continued to clench and spasm, Michael pulling out to finish messily on your stomach as you remained in a daze.

When the crew finally called cut you barely had the energy to sit upright.

And through it all, you wondered if Tom liked the shoot.

There was a typical shuffle as the crew packed up, as Tom paid the actors and bid them goodbye, typical chatter and panting and offers of water and showers which everyone declined. It took less than quarter of an hour for everyone to leave, and you barely moved from the chaise. In a robe, clutching an unopened water bottle, you were left in a silent room. The locking of the door, Tom’s footsteps. The dull ache inside you and the numbness that seemed to overcome you during every shoot lately.

Ever since that one damn solo video –

“Can I join you?”

“Of course.”

You moved your robe to let Tom side beside you, wincing for his nice trousers as he sat beside you on the sweat-stained burgundy velvet. You knew you should talk, say something lighthearted, move to face him, something.Your mind felt a million miles away as the cushion beneath you shifted with Tom’s weight, his solid body faintly comforting beside you.

“This needs cleaning,” he mused, no real urgency in his tone.

He was testing the waters.

Reply, you mind screamed. Your face fell to your hands, a deep sigh leaving your lungs. Tom fidgeted, fingers on the velvet between you, not quite ready to reach out.

“Are you okay, love?”

“Tired.”

One strong arm wrapped around you, making your robe shift against your warm skin, and you leant into Tom without a second though.

“What’s wrong?”

His voice dropped to a murmur, and you wanted to cry. And you weren’t sure why. Fuck.

“I’m really not sure,” you admitted, “I don’t know, Tom.”

Your voice caught as you spoke, tears threatening your eyes, and you could practically feel the change in Tom as realised how upset you were. His whole body shifted, pulling you against him, leaning back on the chaise and holding you to his side. You turned your face against the plane of his chest, makeup no-doubt ruining his white shirt, leaning your entire upper body on him.

And to your horror, you realised you were crying.

Tom said nothing. He just held you while you ruined his shirt with slow, quiet tears.

Then it was over. Out of your system. And Tom was still there, warm and strong and underneath you. You cleared your throat, pushing off him until you were just leaning against him, sitting under your own strength.

For the brief second you could looked to his face, you saw open worry on his features. You looked away again quickly, guilt filling you at the distress you were causing him. You wiped at your eyes, embarrassed. It had been minutes, but you had sobbed on him, still reeking of sex, barely covered by a robe. You tried to be subtle as you hid your face from him.

“How is this my life,” you muttered, pleasantly surprised as Tom broke out into a nervous laugh.

He stopped as you glanced at him, but you shot him a smile, careful to try and rebuild your sense of stability as he watched you. And not be an emotional wreck. You winced as you shuffled in your seat, twisting so you could talk.

“Overwhelming?”

You nodded.

“That’s an understatement.”

“You did brilliantly today,” he told you earnestly, “I’m sorry it was such a long shoot. One of those overproduced ones today, you know. Too many moving parts.”

You smiled, trying to conceal your amusement.

“I am well aware.”

“Right.”

You loved the pink dusting his cheeks as he looked down to his lap, a self-depreciating laugh on his lips.

“Sorry,” he murmured, “if it makes you feel any better, I think I’m going to be editing this for the rest of my life. We’ve almost run out of SD cards, there was so much footage.”

You snorted.

“It’ll be, like, three hours editing max.”

“It’ll be forever,” he whined, “I’m going to die editing.”

He was being a drama queen, one hand on his face and the other wrapped around your shoulder as he acted up. Trying to make you laugh. Just the sweetness of the gesture was enough to make you feel better.

“We can do it together, grab some takeaway, make a day of it,” you offered.

Tom looked ready to argue, to give you more time off, but instead his shoulders softened and he nodded.

“That sounds great, love.”

For a second the two of you looked around the studio, the empty space and the dents in the floor which had accumulated over the years, the white walls and the scattered equipment. The strange space which had started to feel like a second home, after all the time you’d spent here together.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

His words were quiet, laced with concern that he tried to dress in a light-hearted cadence, lips near the crown of your head as he asked.

“Overwhelmed,” you reassured him, “just tired. I just got a bit emotional. I’ll be fine, though. Just needed a cry, I think.”

“I can understand that.”

You wondered if he could. If he’d let you be there for him, comfort him like he’d comforted you. You hoped he would. The smudge of your makeup on his shirt was barely noticeable, and he batted you away as you tried to rub at it.

“It’ll come out.”

“It won’t,” you promised, and Tom rolled his eyes.

“It can go to the costume department then.”

“’Department’,” you snorted, gesturing to the tiny props room.

Tom’s hand on your shoulder tightened playfully, a more pleasant quiet settling over the two of you this time, both of you lost in thought. He interrupted your daydreaming suddenly, with an awkward clearing of his throat and a roll of his shoulders before he spoke.

“Can you be honest with me? It won’t affect how incredibly highly I think of your skill.”

You knew the question Tom was about to ask, and frankly you were surprised he had brought it up at all. But you sighed, nodded against him. Your pussy still ached.

“Yes?”

“Did Michael make you… orgasm? At the end there?”

You nodded, lips pressed tightly together, and waited for Tom’s reaction. It was understated. He pulled his arm a little tighter around your shoulder.

“Wow.”

His response made you laugh, and he joined you, astounded.

“Good for Michael.”

“I know, right? I hope you paid him a bonus.”

Tom huffed.

“For distracting my lead? I don’t think so.”

“’Distracting?’” you teased, “I think you mean ‘helping’. You know I’m not that good at acting.”

“Nonsense,” he chided.

You shoved your shoulder against his slightly, and he exhaled dramatically in complaint, though you were sure he’d barely felt it. His thumb snaked further across your shoulder, kneading into the tense muscle of your neck. He was being serious again, and you felt yourself stiffening even under the touch of his hand.

“I, um, I owe you an apology. I should have consulted you more on the script. Checked what you were okay with, let you choose actors. And the budget… it’s over. I think it’s worth it but I –”

His hand had stilled on your neck, and you found it hard to distract yourself from the feeling of it against your robe.

“Tom it’s fine. Just… don’t do it again, you know?”

“Of course.”

He really meant it. You loved that about Tom. He always really meant it. That made it more fun to tease him, too.

“Although I do enjoy you going so easy on me recently,” you teased, knee bumping his.

You felt his chuckle as clearly as you heard it, tinged with awkwardness at being caught.

“You’re getting famous these days, can’t have you running off to someone else because I didn’t treat you well enough.”

“Tom…”

“I’m serious!” he protested, and you realised suddenly that he was really worried.

Worried you would leave him. Professionally, of course.

“Besides,” he continued, “why would I make you do anything worse than you have to?”

He wasn’t just talking about the books. Those emails from the BDSM studio had shaken him more than you’d realised. He’d read the second offer, raising his eyebrows at the number after you left your phone flat on the desk, and you wished he hadn’t seen it.

You half expected him to start forcing cash into your hands before you left, he was so desperate to compete. But you didn’t work with him for the money.

“This is my job, Tom. I’ll do whatever I have to.”

He sighed.

“I know, and you’re amazing at it, don’t get me wrong. But you shouldn’t have to do more than you want. Your numbers are great, but that doesn’t mean you have to keep going. We can get more people on board, you can work less – “

You frowned, and he picked up on your worry immediately.

“I’m not firing you! I just think, you’re so good off camera too, and we make so much…”

Fidgeting on the chaise until you could speak face to face, you found his forehead lined with worry, and insecurity painting his face which didn’t suit him in the slightest.

“I’ll tell you if I’m unhappy,” you promised, “but I don’t need to be wrapped in cotton wool, I’m fine.”

He didn’t believe you. You didn’t believe you. As his thumb started to smooth across your shoulder soothingly, you tried not to think too much about why.

“I don’t want you being uncomfortable – or worse – when you don’t have to be.”

You cleared your throat, coughing as you swallowed awkwardly, and winced at the immediate distress on Tom’s face.

You knew both of you were reminded of the same moment, of Tom rushing into a shot, of the actor who’d accidentally gone too far, not noticing he was ramming his cock into your throat too hard until you gagged and coughed and coughed. You’d been watery-eyed and coughing an hour later, long after Tom had called the shoot off and wrapped you in a robe, and then into his arms. He’d pulled you close on the couch in his office, muttering apologies into your hair until you hadn’t wanted to hear the word sorry ever again, your voice hoarse as you promised and promised it wasn’t his fault.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but both of you had almost quit that day.

Your throat had hurt for weeks. Tom had been angry for longer, blaming himself as though something a thousand times worse had happened. On the chaise, he was holding you like that again.

Like you needed his comfort. His protection.

You often wondered if it was the other way around. Like he needed to feel like he was protecting you.

“We don’t have to do that anymore,” he soothed, “we can just let you enjoy shoots. I know they’re work but –

One word stuck like shrapnel into your chest.

We.

On the chaise, Tom was reaching for your water bottle, opening it for you and silently imploring you to drink. If only for his sanity.

Between gulps you insisted: “I’m fine.”

He didn’t believe you.

“Go and shower, love. I’ll drive you home.”

[rhysatsmith]

First Week Of Classes | Spring 2021

Hi y’all!

I just wrote out basically the entirety of this post, and then refreshed the page by instinct and lost everything. Lesson learned: save your posts as drafts consistently. Here we go again!

I’ve noticed a few more of you around here since my last post, and whether you’re current/prospective/not Smithies, I’d love to hear from y’all! My ask box is always open, same with my PMs. Like many of us, I’ll take almost any form of human interaction during these dystopian times.

Anyway, classes! Today is the Monday of my second week of classes, and I realized I hadn’t made a post about my first week of classes! Important context before I get there, though, is that so far throughout this pandemic, I haven’t really been able to just sit down and focus on my classes; there was always something else more urgent, whether it be Trump trying to deport all international students (a scare that happened twice over the summer!), me coming out to my parents, or dealing with some pretty terrible personal stuff towards the end of 2020.

I’m not saying this as an ‘oh my life is SO hard’ but as a way to show the reasons for which I was feeling like I was slipping on my academics. And so, I knew that going into my fourth Smith semester (that feels unreal to type, woah), I wanted/needed to change something, for my own mental stability.

For me, this ended up being a commitment to attending as many classes as possible (progress update: I’ve only slept through two morning classes! working on it), leaving my camera on for more than 95% of the time, as well as participating in all the ways I can: answering questions as often as possible, being active in Slack, Piazza, etc.

Something I’ve found REALLY helpful in the process has been something that I’ve personally known about for ages: the pomodoro technique (work cycles of 25 minutes followed by 5 minute breaks, and no more than 4 sessions consecutively). I haven’t really used this method previously because I had the skewed belief that my Romanian high school education cultivated in me: you just need to hammer away at a task, not getting up from your desk, until it’s done. Pair that with my previously untreated ADHD, and it suddenly makes sense why I was struggling (other than the whole, y’know, pandemic thing or whatever).

The most pressing deadline I have at the moment is a video project for Smith’s My Global Story event. It was technically due yesterday, but I was thankfully able to get an extension because I wasn’t quite done with it. I might upload it either here or on YouTube afterwards, but that’s a problem for future me to figure out.

Lastly, one thing I was considering recently is starting the 100 days of productivity challenge; I wouldn’t be aiming to do it every single day for the next 100 days, but to have it finished by the end of the calendar year. Maybe COVID will be done by then, huh?

Rhys (he/they) xx

[tipsydipsydo]

Just let me love him! 

Request: "hey! may i request an imagine where namjoon has a boyfriend (male transgender) and they decide to make their relationship public but maybe not all the fans being supportive / respectful of it? and namjoon rlly pissed off by the comments online and making posts to half educate them & half being shady haha thank u :("

Requested by: anonymous

Pairing: Namjoon x transgender Reader

Gender of the Reader: male

Word Count: 3k

Genre: Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Fluff

Warnings: mentions of Homophobia and Transphobia; mentions of hate towards the LGBTQ+ Community

A/N: Well... what should I say? I think I'll write every request individually without specify how long my writings would be. It really depends on my own idea for that request. This here took some time because I had to make some research and thought a lot about, how I want to write it.

That's also the reason why it ends up to be so long, because it was important for me to write that really long statement that Namjoons makes in here in the full version.

[Links]:

My Masterlist for your requests!

My official Blog Navigation!

I hope you all will like it! 💕

(Even when I researched things, when there is something that doesn't fit so well into the fic, please inform me 🤗)

「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

He should have guessed it. He should have noticed it, before the vlog would be uploaded. No, he should have known it! He should have known that it'll happen when this information gets to the public.

And at the same time he should have known that there are also some black sheeps among the ARMYs.

Although the large majority is very open, liberal and supportive, there are still some people who call themselves an "Army" and "support" them, but they're also very open when they don't like something.

It could be their new outfit, their new haircut or, like now, their lifestyle and their relationships. When something deviates from their idealized image, which means that his members and he no longer correspond to the overly perfect image of that Army, they start hating.

There aren't many, but they still exist. Sadly.

And all of that just starts because of a scene and the one sentence he had said to explain it.

Yesterday he uploaded a self-made vlog on the occasion of his birthday, in which he simply wanted to take the Armys through his day and show them, how he's spending his birthday this year. Nothing "bad", right?

You two made your relationship public three months ago. Of course, after this public announcement, the excitement was big and pretty much every korean and even some international boulevard magazines as well reported about it. Who could ever have guessed that there will be a young man at the side of the world known K-Pop Idol Kim Namjoon instead of a woman??

The biggest gossip subsided after a week and since two months pretty much everything turned out to be quite normal again. Namjoon and you get a lot of encouragement and support for your relationship from the vast majority of fans, you already have an official shipping name (and Namjoon has to admit that it sounds really cute!) Beside that, fanarts of you two have been already created, based on the few couple pictures that Namjoon recently posted in their Twitter account.

However, Namjoon "only" introduced you as his boyfriend. He hadn't told the whole publicity that you were transgender and "actually biologically a woman". Why should he?

You identify yourself as a boy, just you weren't born as such, which is why you want to adapt your gender to your actual identity. It's not more than that and all that just means that you are his boyfriend, nothing else.

Joon just introduced you as his partner and not that you are female to male transgender because that has actually nothing to do with your relationship.

And then there was the thing with his birthday vlog. He had thought that this little thing wouldn't attract attention, probably because it had become so normal for him.

You brunched together in a restaurant on the day of his birthday, enjoyed the good food together and laughed a lot. Really nothing so unusual when you go out to with your partner.

This was followed by the fateful scene that has caused all of these comments now.

You two were so deep in your conversation that you completely forgot to pay attention to the time. However, you still had a doctor's appointment that day, which is why you rushed out of the restaurant in a hurry.

You just noticed it a bit too late that you'll have a doctor's appointment for your next testosterone injection on Namjoon's birthday. But you could't and didn't even want to re-arrange a new appointement because you need the renewal in a relativly regular interval.

So the vlog only showed a few seconds where you two sprint stressed but also laughing to a taxi, so that you'd somehow still belong halfway to your actual time of the appointment in the doctor's office.

When you get your injection, Joonie waits for you in the empty waiting room and explain shortly in the vlog, why this appointment is so important.

"Unfortunately, my sweetheart was born in the wrong body and to be able that he can live with his correct gender identity, he has to go to the doctor to get his dosis of testosterone."

And that was it actually. After that you went back to your shared apartement, where the boys surprised Namjoon with a little birthday party. Congratulated their leader for getting older and then unpack all the presents together. With it, the vlog was uploaded. Namjoon and the boys had given no further thought to this "new piece of information" that turned out be the reason for these controversial comments under his vlog. Simply because it's already become normal for everyone. You are a transgender, but you're just Namjoon's Boyfriend for everyone. Nothing more.

Nevertheless, some "fans" don't see it that way, they even starts questioning if it's correct to call you Namjoon's "boyfriend" because you just can't be a "real boy". After this comment all the other ones only got even more worse.

Namjoon got the opportunity to read the comments when he already was on his way to the studio. He had wondered this morning why you were so silent and inwardly at breakfast. He had ask you gently if something happed or if you're not feeling well. But you just shook your head and said that you slept badly. Namjoon doesn't ask further because he was sure, that you woulf know that you can always be completely honest with him. And Namjoon doesn't want to blame you, that you would be lying to him, so he just gives you a loving smile.

How wrong he was when he read through all these awful comments under the vlog.

The other members have seen these comments too, they're so damn furious, with what kind of words you're called in there and that some of the them wished that Namjoon would please break up with you.

They should've trained the new choreography today, but this incident is now much more important and the way how they want to deal with it. They came to the decision to make a clear statement.

Actually it's planned that Jimin make a vlive today, but they decide that Namjoon should make it instead due to the situation.

He himself is not so sure yet whether he should really do it today, the anger about these disrespectful comments is still too big and he cannot promise not to say rude things to the fans himself as well. He wants to give them a better role model than to hate each other. However, he's becoming more and more aware of the importance of publishing his vlive today.

Because you're his boyfriend and through your relationship, you get so much more attention, which unfortunately also increases the possibility of harrassing you, for what you are, a lot more. He brought you into this situation, so Namjoon also feels obliged to stand up for you and show you that he's absolutely not going to accept something like that!

In addition, it's so important to him and all the other members to show that they will accept hate and harrassing of LGBTQ+ people in no way.

It breaks Namjoon's heart when he comes home and sees your red, swollen eyes, testifying that you cried. He had tried countless times to contact you throughout the day, but you neither answered his calls nor his text messages.

The last time when you were online in the messenger was tonight. Probably when you read all these terrible comments.

"Hey baby...", Namjoon whispers softly as he comes up to you and closes his arms around your body, pressing you tightly, almost protectively against his chest.

"I know what happened. I read everything."

With these words your body begins to tremble in his arms, you press your face into the crook of his neck and a little sob comes from your lips.

Namjoon holds you, strokes his fingers gently through your hair and whispers sweet nothings into your ear to calm you down.

You take a trembling breath in and say in a broken voice: "I am so sorry that I am causing you and the others such problems..."

When these words comes over your lips, Namjoon takes your tear-streaked face in his hands and gently kisses your tears away.

"No, no, no, my love! Don't say things like that, they're absolutely not true! You are not the problem, definitely not! The problem are these people out there who just don't want to accept that not all people can’t identify with the gender they’ve been born with. Maybe because it’s just so normal and natural for them to be a girl or boy. Apparently these people cannot put themselves in your shoes, what it's like to feel like a boy or girl but stuck in the body of the opposite sex. Apparently they don't even tried to imagine what it would be like if they weren't born a what they are. How it would be to be born in a different body with their previous gender identification. You are not the problem. The problem are the people who cannot listen to you, at least to understand how debiliating this situation is for you. So instead of Jimin, I'm going to do the vlive today and I'll talk with Armys about it. I will tell them that I will not tolerate Transphobia and any other Phobias of the LGBTQ+ community at all."

Your swollen eyes snaps open and you look at Namjoon in disbelief. As you want to open your lips to ask him, if he's really sure about that because he could get even more hate for that, he already knows what you're about to say.

Before these words can leave your lips, he quickly presses his owns on yours and gives you a gentle kiss full of love.

"I want to do that, my love. I want to do this for you, for us, for our LGBTQ+ ARMYs and for all these other peoples. It's important for me to make this statement."

When you nod slowly, Namjoon released the embrace and gave you a last kiss on the lips.

Then he goes into the living room to the dining table, where his laptop is and logs in.

You go quietly to the couch and wrap yourself up in your favorite blanket. To be honest, you don't really know what to expect. Before Namjoon starts his vlive, he looks at you and forms a silent "I love you" with his lips.

"Hey guys. I know Jimin should be sitting right here infront of the screen and doing his vlive with you. However, something happened tonight that I want to talk with you about it. I think you already know, we uploaded my Birthday vlog yesterday and there are comments written which are absolutely terrible and I'm not going to accept that under any circumstances.", Namjoon starts the vlive.

Today there is no trace of his usual playful and childish behavior, which he shows so often in his vlives. He's absolutely serious.

"Some of you are asking why you just got the information now, that Y/N is transgender and why we didn't tell you right away with our relationship announcement. I decided against it for the simple reason that it doesn't matter in our relationship. Y/N doesn't identify with his biological gender, although his body may be female, he is actually a boy who unfortunately was born in the wrong body. He is a boy and therefore he is my boyfriend."

"I introduced him to you as my boyfriend, because it doesn't matter who he was before, what gender he has from birth. It should only be about who he is now, who can he be now, that he's able to be finally that person who he want to be. We should finally give these people, like Y/N, the opportunity to live in the gender identity they are, without always saying 'But you are in reality woman, right?'."

"No, not really, in reality is Y/N a man. Can we please finally give them the opportunity to live in the gender with which they identify themselves. So when they should identify with the specific genders like male and female. And if that's not the case, if you assign yourself as nonbinary, it's perfectly okay! After all, there is still so much space between these two genders! We should give all of them the opportunity to simply live the way they are."

"That's why I think, that we all should be very happy, that we can identify ourself with our biological gender! Therefore, we should help all the other people to find their right gender when their biological gender doesn't suit them! And that they're able to show themself in public."

Namjoon takes a deep breath after this long monologue and grabs to his water glass to drink a bit. While doing this, he read all the new comments that pops up. They are very different, some are positive and supportive and then there are these other comments, literally saying how he can talk such a shit. 'There are only two genders, nothing between them and everyone has to be able to identify with their own gender!'

It is precisely in this conflict that he realizes again that ignorance and the lack of will to understand each other are two of the major problems.

"As I read your comments, one thing caught my eye very clearly. We're talking too much about each other than with each other."

"I know, as a person who can identify themself fairly well with their biological gender, it's pretty hard to imagine what it would be like if it weren't. And because of that, we have to talk about it. I know that all transgender or generally all LGBTQ+ people are tired of having to explain their gender identity or their sexuality all over again and again. Having to explain, why they are the way they are now."

"But I think that it'll be the only way to remove these stereotypes and prejudices, as well as fear of 'this unknown thing' and thus all these unjustifiably phobias and racism. Just because a person cannot identify with their biological gender doesn't mean that you have to change yours too! It means, that you should simply accept and respect it! However, we should give all these people the chance to finally develop in such a way that they can really be themselves. Regardless of whether they are assign themself as male, female or no specific gender."

"There are still so many questions in the room that result from pure lack of knowledge. And that's normal, of course, we can't know everything, but we can learn something new every day. Ask each other questions, so that you have the opportunity to be able to imagine yourself into the position of an other person. So at least try to understand how the other person must feel. It's a long way but we should try to finally remove this hate that is caused by ignorance and misunderstandings."

"There are always two peoples involved in a conversation. That's why I appeal to the LGBTQ+ community to be still patient with us, even if you're already so sick of it. You must have the feeling of literally speaking against a wall... And all people who identify with their biological gender and are heterosexual, so you practically correspond to the 'ideal image' of society with it, should listen to the LGBTQ+ Community and ask questions, so that these prejudices and this hate can finally be stopped and we all are able to live peacefully together. I know, this idea is utopian, but we can still try to get as close as possible to this utopia of a peaceful coexistence of all peoples."

Namjoon takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a moment before dropping the statement.

"And who, after my monologue, still refuses to simply ask the peoples questions when they don't understand something and still prefer to think about them in prejudices, please unfollow BTS and BigHit Entertainment."

Your eyes are round like plates and your mouth opens, want to say something, but no words comes over your lips.

In the corner of his eye, Namjoon sees how the comment section with messages literally explodes.

"I am not saying this out of pure selfishness just because I am angry and hurt. I am saying this because all members agree with this statement. We decided for this statement together."

"Of course we know, that you're still able to see all of our things, we cannot forbid you from listening to our music. But we all wanted to talk about this topic once. BTS and the Army community should be a safe space for all Armys, regardless of their gender identity or sexual orientation. We wanted to make sure that all Armys in our large community are welcome and that they'll be respected in the way they are."

"The members and me just need to know that we all can be honest with you and don't have to hide anything. That we can be sure you’re supporting us really. We just want that all peoples that follow us, are trying their best to understand each other. Of course, we all will never agree at the same point of view and that's a good thing! But we should respect each other's gender identity, sexual orientation and opinion. Because in the end we all are just humans. No more, no less."

"I would like to come to an end of this vlive for today. And for all haters out there, I'm not going to break up with Y/N. Please just respect that I love him. Exactly the way he is!"

With these words, Namjoon goes offline and closes the laptop, smiling at you softly when he comes to you on the couch.

"I love you. Please don't forget that," he whispers in your ear as he slips under the blanket and snuggles up to you.

Like I wrote it in Namjoons statement, I try my best to imagine myself into your position even when I never made these experiences (and probably never will) you had to make. That's why I'm always open to talk and listen to you, to learn new things about it!

And even when I'll never be able to understand you "really", then I'll make sure that you know that I still care for you guys, okay?

Love you 💜

[crowdedimagines]

The Perfect Exchange - David Dobrik (2)

summary// David needs a green card and the reader needs health insurance

~ PART ONE ~

“Hey!”

“David?” I ask, smiling looking at my phone. I left late last night, we all spent the rest of the night just hanging out at David’s. We made smores outside and managed to get to know each other a little better. I still feel like an outsider, it’s hard to just merge with an already established friend group.

“Natalie gave me your number. I was wondering if you wanted to come over today, I am having some of the guys over today to film. I thought if we are really doing this thing I should introduce you to the vlog. The fans should know my fiance.”

I let out a laugh at the new title of fiance. My heart drops a little at the idea of it all being real again. What would my parents do if they found out I was getting married?

“Hmm, well I don’t know if you can call me that since I have no ring, and you’ve yet to get down on one knee.” I tease. We’re still new to each other, but David is someone who is easy enough to get along with.

“That’s a fair point, but please tell me that means you’re coming?”

“I actually have an audition today, but I can come by after.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you told us about it last night. What was it for again?”

“Just a small part on a TV show. Nothing major, but if I did get it, it would kind of be a big deal. It would really put me on the map.” This could be my breakout moment. Or it could just be another gig and a little more money to put towards student loans. Either way, I’ll happily take it.

I’ve gotten a handful of roles since I moved out here, nothing that has helped much. Commercials mostly, a couple of modeling gigs. My biggest achievement being an ad in a magazine, which I will admit I am proud of.

“Any show that I would know?” David hints at. If yesterday proved anything, he doesn’t like being withheld information. He always likes being in the know.

“Do you know the reboot of Sabrina the Teenage Witch?” I ask, biting back a smile.

“Yeah, I actually know Kiernan Shipka! I binge watched the whole thing- oh my god! That’s the show?” David asks getting excited.

“Yeah.” I let out a small laugh, “So wish me good luck!”

“Good luck!”

I tell David that I’ll text him later today when I’m on my way. I also get a text from an excited Natalie. She wasn’t expecting yesterday to go so well, and in all honesty I didn’t think it would either. She also texts me a good luck, I don’t know if she thought of it on her own or if David said something. Regardless of the fact, it's sweet.

I run through the lines for what feels like the thousandth time. It’s only a one-episode appearance, but it would be wonderful to put on my resume. Plus, getting your name in with Netflix one time is always good for the future.

“Y/n Y/Ln.” The woman calls my name and opens the door for me to follow in. I walk in to the room to be met with a panel of people. I can see my headshot sitting on the table in front of each of them.

The audition goes by almost too quickly which makes me nervous. The time just flew by, even though it ended up being nearly half an hour. They made me read multiple times, took pictures, recorded test footage, and sent me on my way.

“Alright, we’ll be in touch.”

“Thank you.”

I release a sigh of anxiety as soon as I walk back out through the doors. I am happy to have put myself out here, but also relieved to be done with it. I can relax the rest of the day before work tomorrow.

I decide to drive to David’s this time, I don’t want to take an Uber back too late at night like I did yesterday. It’s later than I thought it would be by the time I get here. The sun is slowly starting to disappear.

“Y/n!” Zane cheers my name, seeing me walk through the front door.

“Hi Zane.” I grin at him, “Hi you guys!” I grin at everyone else hanging out here. It looks like today it’s just Carly, Erin, Nat, Matt, and Zane. Well, and obviously David is somewhere.

“Where’s Dave?” I ask, taking a seat next to Natalie on the couch.

“He’s editing with Jason in his room. He’s supposed to upload tomorrow so I think he’s trying to get some of the editing done now.”

“That sounds right, he said something this morning about wanting to film with me I think.”

“Really?” Carly interjects herself, “Don’t you guys want to take things slow, so the fans don’t catch on.”

“I have no clue what David has planned.” I shrug, “I’m just gonna go with the flow.”

“I just figured I could introduce her to the vlogs today. Mention something how we’ve been friends for a year or something and somehow she’s never been in a video.” David says, making his entrance, “After awhile we’ll tell them that we’ve been dating this whole time.”

“Wow, he’s got it all planned out.” Natalie teases.

“Somewhat, in fact we should start filming now before it gets dark out.”

We all move outside, the view still shocks me. It’s one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen. The setting sun only makes it more appealing.

“It never gets old.” Erin nudges my shoulder.

“I can’t imagine it would.” I shake my head in disbelief.

David ends up filming a bit where Jason is dressed up as someone called ‘Carmelita’. David simply pans to me sitting with the other girls as we laugh as something obnoxious that Jason says about dicks. He didn’t want to make it directly a bit about me because it would be too obvious.

“Wait, Y/n I don’t think you’ve ever been in a vlog before!” David grins behind the camera, he turns it to me and I smile looking up at him.

“Yeah, we’re not close enough for you to include me.” I tease, trying to make it seem like we’ve known each other longer than a day.

“Shut up, I feel like as soon as my camera comes out you go running!”

“That’s because it’s usually followed by snakes or worse!” I cover my face as I laugh.

David cuts claiming it was the perfect way to introduce me. It was a perfect mix of friendly while still not being too obvious with trying to push it on the fans.

“It seems like he knows what he’s doing.” I join Natalie back in the living room.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s got a plan for telling the fans. He wants them to wholeheartedly believe it. He’s afraid after he married Lorraine people won’t believe it this time.”

“Lorraine?” I ask.

David’s been married before? How did I not know this?

“David didn’t tell you?” Natalie asks, laughing with shock.

“Jas, do you want to explain Lorraine, David’s ex wife to Y/n for me.”

Natalie is laughing and Jason has a grin and I have no clue why. Jason shakes his head and walks over to join us.

“Lorraine is my mother, David married her as a joke to piss me off because I said that he would never have anyone fall in love with him.”

“Wow.” I laugh, finally in on the joke.

I wander around a little and find David in his room, a room I hadn’t yet visited.

“Hey.” I knock lightly on the wall letting myself in.

“Hey.” He grins looking up. He slides one side of his headphones off to the side so he can hear me.

“I just found out you were already married! Already on your second wife and you’re 23?” I tease.

David laughs and rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sorry to tell you that you won’t be the first Mrs. Dobrik.”

“Oh, I’m heartbroken.” I tease. I walk over and join him sitting on his bed.

“Yeah, it got be thinking. I feel like we really need to get to know each other. I’ve heard stories from Natalie, but you’re pretty much a stranger to me.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” He takes off his headphones completely now.

“We don’t have to do it now!” I try to insist, holding up my hands to stop him, “I know you need to edit so we can do it another time.”

“No it’s fine, I don’t need to post until tomorrow.”

“What do you want to know?”

[clan-sayeed-fic]

Let me earn your trust (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios) Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they're the property of Pixelberry Studios as well) Warnings: angst Rating: Mature Author's note:  I'm not a native English speaker, I'm sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

This chapter is shorter than last ones, don't hate me haha

I was thinking that I'll be able to upload the 15th chapter today too. But since I was at work yesterday and I'm going there today too, right after posting this, I know for sure that it won't happen.

When I came back home yesterday, I was so exhausted like whoa... I love this job, but when I'm not working day after day in it, it takes a lot of my energy to adjust. And what amazes me the most is that even if I can barely stand on my feet from exhaustion, I cannot fall asleep like wth... and the fun fact is that around 1:30 a.m. I came up with the last line of this fic hahaha

Idk if anyone even reads those notes haha maybe, it's better if you don't. I'm going to answer your comments, if you leave some, in the evening😄 (12 noon here)

~ 1400 words

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

Chapter 14

"I wouldn't worry about what happened this much, little girl," Adam's voice got Amy's mind out of her thoughts.

Without thinking, she took a glass of water that he held for her.

Amy retained only a few flashbacks from their ride to this place. The moment when she got into a limousine. A short talk with Adam, who tried his best to make her feel better. After that, she remembered getting out of the car and how she found herself in the town suburbs. In front of the impressive mansion.

The last thing she knew was the sound of her own voice refusing the offer of wine since she still felt the end of the hangover.

And now, there she was. Sitting on this enormous, white couch. Surrounded by ornaments worth millions.

Amy took a sip of water, letting the cold liquid flow down her throat.

Another single tear escaped her eye, traveling down her cheek before she wiped it away. She hadn't felt this alone and broken during those long four years. Amy made promises in her life that she would be tough, never cry, and move on. For them.

"I know what'll make you feel better," Adam's words drew her attention. "Come with me, I can show you something wonderful."

Amy forced a weak smile and stood up, following his steps.

They walked through the living room, in the opposite direction than the main entrance. Adam guided her to other doors, which were leading to the back yard of the mansion. The man opened the doors and gestured Amy to go outside. It was still daylight, so he had to stay in the shadows.

Amy walked through the doors, being blinded by the artificial light. Her eyes needed a few moments to adjust to this source of light before she could take the surroundings in. And the view she saw was truly breathtaking.

Amy didn't know how it was possible that, despite bad weather outside, the flora here was growing such beautifully. She couldn't decide if it was thanks to the heat lamp and equally heated ground or some talented and devoted gardeners.

Either way, the creation was a true masterpiece.

The grass was mown equally, surrounding the flowers. The flora was varied in so many ways. Starting from colors, kind, to height. There were plants that she saw many times in different gardens in New York so far. But also some of them were exotic, unknown for Amy.

In the center of the garden was growing an impressive, old weeping willow. Its stems were dancing slowly in the weak wind. Some of the leaves reaching the ground, some using the wind to fly as high as it was possible.

And that was the plant that especially got Amy's attention.

She stood speechless, looking at the tree, feeling warmth spreading in her chest. Feeling of safeness.

"I can see you're mesmerized by that Salix babylonica," Adam grinned behind her.

Amy snapped out of her thoughts and smiled, feeling better.

"I reminded myself that I have seen this kind of tree somewhere else before," she said mostly to herself.

"Ah, memories..." Adam spoke with his charismatic tone. "They are a fascinating thing, aren't they? I always say... if you desire to understand someone properly, you need to face his recollections at first."

Those were powerful words that hit straight to Amy's heart.

"There is some truth in that," Amy said, her mind uncontrollably traveling to Kamilah.

They turned around and walked inside the building.

Adam stopped near the bar, filling his glass with white wine. Once again, he looked at Amy with an unspoken offer.

"Oh, thank you, I'm good," her answer was still the same, but he didn't push her.

He walked Amy to the living room, and they both sat down on the couch at an appropriate distance from each other. For a moment, no one was stopping the silence that fell between them.

Adam was gathering his thoughts and pieces of information that he had learned about this human so far. He always needed to be prepared for how the conversation would go. The coincidence in his speech wasn't an option.

"Priya told me about the night when you were working as her waitress," Adam started, taking a little sip of his drink. "I feel utterly sorry for you getting to know all of this under such terrible circumstances."

Amy looked into his eyes, and she couldn't find a lie in them. Either he was telling the truth, or she was too blind at that moment to see his manipulative side.

"It happened," Amy swallowed, rethinking what she can do and tell around this man. "And I don't regret this."

"Even turning your best friend into the vampire?" Adam asked, without judgment in his voice.

Amy moved nervously on the couch, trying to hold back her emotions.

"If you're asking me what would I rather do: undo Lily's death or getting to know all of this. The answer is obvious," Amy's expression serious. "I would never sacrifice my friend for getting us into this."

"Loyalty, I respect that," Adam clasped in his hands, putting the glass aside. "I bet you have something that most humans are searching for in a friend."

Amy felt touched by those words.

"Why are you distinguishing humans and vampires so much?" Amy asked with curiosity, trying to not sound too brazenly.

Adam stopped smiling for a moment. She took him off gourd, and that was not an easy thing to accomplish. He quickly composed himself and spoke with his usual, confident, and eloquent manner.

"Because the human part is long gone as soon as you become the vampire, my friend," Adam was waiting for Amy's agreement. He was used to people agreeing with him, but it didn't happen this time. "But, from what I can notice, you're seeing things differently?"

Amy looked at her hands while thinking about her opinion on this subject. She wasn't such naive, even if she was feeling hurt about what happened between her and Kamilah. She still knew that she had to choose words carefully when it went to this man.

"I believe that everyone is worth redemption," she said, keeping gaze of his brown eyes.

Adam smiled, being sure that Amy had nothing else to say. And when he wanted to add his few words, she spoke again.

"And..." Amy's voice was full of hope. "I believe that if you once were a human... then losing humanity after turning depends on you."

Amy choose her words on purpose. Especially those which referred to being a human before turning. She knew that even people could behave without humanity or mercy. There's no need to be a vampire to act like a bloodlust creature. And she knew that those people freaked her out even more than this new world that she was still adjusting to living in.

"I can see now what Adrian and Kamilah saw in you," Adam's voice sounded absent.

At that moment, a chauffeur walked into the living room, clearing his throat.

"You called me, sir," he bowed before them.

"Indeed," Adam cheered up, shifting back to his usual behavior. "I want you to drive Ms. Campbell to her apartment."

The chauffeur smiled at Amy, so she returned the gesture feeling more relaxed when another person appeared in the room. She stood up and followed the young man to the doors after saying goodbye to Adam.

When she was near the entrance, Adam's voice stopped her.

"And, Amelia...." he said with a neutral tone. "I'm still thinking about our deal."

Amy froze for a moment. Her muscles tensed due to the sound of the name that she hadn't heard in years. Quickly, she regained control over her body and voice, thinking that it was a common mistake to consider her name as a shortcut from Amelia.

Keeping her eyes and facial expression under control, she turned around, smiling naturally.

"You know where to find me," she said with fake confidence in her voice.

After those words, Amy turned around and walked out of the house, heading to the limo.

A bad feeling curled under her skin, but sanity made her think that it was just a coincidence.

And, as Adam said, their deal was still on.

The only thing that Amy was not aware of was how valuable information Adam learned this day.

And how it would affect his next move.

Next chapter: 15

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

tag list: @onyxgaytrash, @scarlet-letter-a0114, @caliseds, 

@lightning-fury I know this chapter is more like a tease, but it’s the beginning of my big plan haha 

[lauras-collection]

More Than I Know [Part 6]

Tom Holland x female reader

Masterlist

Summary: Your plan was to bring someone to the wedding so your family would stop bothering you about your nonexistent love life. Well, that backfired majorly because now your fake love life was all they wanted to talk about.

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: fluff, maybe a little bit angst towards the end? nothing else I think (let me know if there is anything in there that I should add)

A/N: I decided to split the wedding day into two parts because I really wanted to post something today and I thought this way the parts are going to be a similar length to the other parts. 

I hope you enjoy!

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Once you were in the safe space of your hotel room you let out a breath of relief. 

“That was so exhausting.” You kicked off your shoes and let yourself fall on the bed that was even softer than you expected it to be. Tom chuckled and nodded his head, his brown curls swaying with the motion.

“Yeah, when you said your family was a bit much I thought you were exaggerating... but no. They really are a lot.” You hummed in agreement and got up from the bed to retrieve your pyjamas and washbag from your suitcase. 

“D’you need the bathroom now or can I go first?” You asked Tom once you had gotten everything. Tom looked up from his phone.

“‘S alright. You can go first." He sent you a kind smile before turning back to his phone. You tried your best to get ready for bed as quickly as possible. You were exhausted and wanted to sleep soon because you had to get up early tomorrow. And you also didn’t want Tom to think that you were one of those girls that took ages in the bathroom. When you opened the bathroom door, Tom was standing in the middle of the room taking off his shirt. 

You stood stunned in the door not sure if you should pretend that it was totally normal for you to see a shirtless guy or if you should close your eyes and turn back into the bathroom. You decided to go with the first option, you wanted to be confident. Trying not to check him out too obviously you moved over to your suitcase to put the clothes you had worn back before moving over to the bed and slipping under the covers. 

Meanwhile, Tom had (sadly) put on a shirt again and disappeared into the bathroom with his toiletries, giving you a chance to be alone for a moment. You took that time to check your phone for a minute. You had a few messages from your friends telling you to have fun at your sister’s wedding. You hadn’t really been in contact with most of them recently. Your ‘relationship’ had made some of them show their true colours. Some of your so-called friends really thought you were just dating him for the attention. That’s why you never told any of your friends about the little arrangement you had with Tom. You didn’t feel like you could trust them. And you envied Tom for his best friend Harrison. You wished you had a best friend that you could trust a hundred per cent, but you were too afraid that someone could betray that trust and tell everyone that you and Tom were just faking it.

You quickly sent a few answers before checking your social media apps. You couldn’t help but look for new photos of you and Tom, afraid that the twins had posted anything despite saying they wouldn't. But all you saw was a post from the guy at the fast-food drive-through who had uploaded the picture of him and Tom with the caption ‘served spider-man today. made my day’ Though it kind of defeated the purpose of the fake dating arrangement, you were kind of happy he didn't mention you. As Tom reentered the room, you put the phone back down on your nightstand while Tom turned off the ceiling lamp, the only light now coming from the lamp on his nightstand. 

“And you’re really okay with us sharing the bed?” He asked unsure, standing by the side of the bed. 

“Get in, Tom. I don’t need you to be grumpy tomorrow because you slept in one of the armchairs.” You motioned to the two armchairs next to the door. 

“Fair enough...” with that he got into to the other side of the bed. While the bed was big enough for two people, it wasn’t exactly huge either. 

“I’m sorry if I kick you during the night. I’m not used to sharing the bed with anyone.” you chuckled turning your head to watch Tom.

“Yeah, me neither. Except for Tessa sometimes.” Tom shrugged his shoulders and picked up his phone that he had put on the nightstand. He turned on the do not disturb function and put it back. 

“I miss her. Do you think I can see her when we get back?” 

Tom nodded eagerly “Of course! To be honest I think she misses you, too.” A smile spread across his face and you automatically had to smile, too. 

“Yeah, right. She’s seen me once.”

“But she liked you immediately. I’m sure she’ll be ecstatic when she sees you again. You could come to my place before I drop you off on  Sunday.” He shrugged his shoulders again.

“That’d be nice.” You nodded with a yawn and Tom chuckled as he turned on his side to face you. 

“You should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow. Or today, technically.”

“You’re right.” You turned on your side as well so you were now facing each other, your noses almost touching. Without taking his eyes off yours Tom moved his arm back to turn off the light, engulfing the room in darkness. Your eyes needed a moment to adjust before you could make out Tom’s features in the dark. 

“Goodnight Y/N.” he said softly and you could barely make out the smile on his face.

“Night, Tom.” Your voice was barely above a whisper and it only took a few moments until you were fast asleep.

***

The sound of your phone’s alarm startled you awake. You tried to reach for your phone to turn it off but you couldn’t. Because Tom had cuddled up to you during the night, his arm wrapped around your waist, chest pressed tightly to your back and his legs entangled with yours. 

“Tom.”

“Just five more minutes.” He mumbled into your neck causing a shiver to run down your spine. 

“We need to get up. I need to be in my sister’s hotel room in half an hour. And you need to get ready to go to Daniel’s.” Tom was spending the time before the wedding with Daniel and his friends. Tom was a people person so you weren’t afraid to leave him alone with the guys, and he had met most of them yesterday.

“Please, just five minutes.” he mumbled again, burying his face deeper into your neck, his lips now touching your skin. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves.

“Let me at least turn off the alarm.” Your phone was still obnoxiously ringing and it was getting on your nerves. How was he not bothered by that?

“M’kay.” He released your arm for a second so you could reach your phone before pulling you closer again. Who would’ve thought he’s such the cuddly type? You turned the alarm off and put the phone down beside you. Tom sighed as you let yourself relax in his touch. You told yourself that you were going to enjoy this for five minutes and then get up. I’ll just rest my eyes for a second.

You were startled awake by frantic knocking on the hotel room door.

“Y/N! Wake up! You were supposed to be in Kate’s room half an hour ago!” You shot up in bed, Tom groaning as he rolled to the side. 

“Ugh, five minutes my arse.” You grumbled as you got out of bed, opening the door to see your cousin Joanne with a frantic expression on her face.

“Were you still asleep?” She asked with raised eyebrows before waving her hands. “Whatever, get your dress, kiss your boyfriend goodbye and let’s go!”

You only nodded, not able to talk after you had literally just woken up. After grabbing the garment bag with your dress you turned to Tom who had finally gotten out of bed as well. 

“I’m never letting you convince me to stay in bed for five more minutes.” You tell him with a semi-serious glare. He slowly walked over to you with a lopsided grin. 

“‘M sorry.” His voice was hoarse with sleep making a shiver run down your spine. Tom grabbed your hips lightly with both hands. “Next time I’ll listen to you.” Next time. You shook your head lightly trying to ban that thought from your mind. Joanna was still waiting at the door, impatiently tapping her fingers against the door frame. Moving your hand to the back of Tom’s neck you pulled him closer for a small peck. 

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” You let go of his neck and Tom nodded placing one more kiss on your lips.

“Miss you already.” 

“You’ll see her again soon enough, lover boy. Come on, Y/N.” Joanna said amused and Tom let go of you so you could follow Joanna to Kate’s room. “To be young and in love.” Joanna sighed teasingly as you walked down the hallway and you shoved her lightly.

When you entered Kate’s hotel suite you were immediately greeted with the noise of all the girls chatting and drinking champagne while being glammed up by several makeup artists. They seemed to be having the time of their lives. In the midst of all of them sat your sister, wearing a white robe while one girl was curling her hair and another doing her makeup. 

“I am so sorry Kate!” You exclaimed as you rushed over to her. “But to be fair it was Tom’s fault.” You shrugged your shoulders with a sheepish grin.

“Is that so?” She raised her eyebrow suggestively and you rolled your eyes.

“Not like that!” you poked her in the shoulder. “We fell asleep again because he wanted to stay in bed five more minutes. And five minutes apparently turned into an hour.”

“It’s all good. Stella took your time slot in make up so you’ll take her’s. She should be almost done.” 

You looked over at your sister’s best friend who was already looking at you with a cheeky smile.

“I don’t think anyone can blame you for wanting to spend more time in bed with a dreamboat like Tom.”

“Would you guys stop with the suggestive comments?” You laughed and threw a makeup sponge at Stella, which she caught. 

“You’ll have to try harder than that.” She laughed and tossed the sponge back but instead of catching it you move to the side so it landed on the table behind you. 

“Let us have some fun! It’s been such a long time since the last time I was able to tease you about a boy.” Kate stated before taking a sip from her champagne. 

“When have I ever teased you about Daniel?” You questioned as you helped yourself to a glass of champagne as well. A little liquid courage couldn’t hurt on a day like this. Kate pondered for a moment, opening and closing her mouth a couple of times.

“I can’t think of a situation right now but I’m sure you have at some point.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“It’s what sisters do.” Stella remarked making you purse your lips. 

When everyone was finally ready, the photographer took numerous pictures of the group. Kate looked breathtaking in her wedding dress and a good amount of tears were shed. Mostly from your mum though. Everyone was excited for Kate to walk down the aisle. Your sister had been dreaming about getting married basically her whole life. You were so happy that she finally got her dream wedding and that she was going to spend the rest of her life with someone who loved her so much. You had secretly always been a bit jealous of what Kate and Daniel have, but you never let it show or get to you. You were convinced that someday you’d find someone who would love you the way Daniel loved Kate. And now you kept thinking about what it would be like if Tom was that person. You tried to ban these thoughts from your mind, you were convinced that you were just thinking that way because of everyone pestering you and Tom about getting married yesterday.

When your Dad arrived to pick up Kate, things got emotional again. You could see tears shimmering in his eyes as he saw Kate in her dress for the first time. 

“My little Katie is all grown up now.” He whispered, taking her hands in his. After looking her over once more he turned to you. “Please wait another ten years before getting married, Y/N. I don’t think I can handle handing you off, too.” He gave you a small smile and you had to chuckle.

“Thanks, Dad. I think you’re the only one who thinks that way though.” You playfully glared at your mother who rolled her eyes.

“I don’t suppose Tom wants to wait that long, darling.” She said directed to your dad. “The way he looks at Y/N we’re gonna have to plan another wedding very soon.” a big smile graced her face and you felt your chest flutter at the thought. But no, Tom was looking at you that way because he’s an actor playing the part of your boyfriend. Not because he’s in love with you. 

Did you want him to be in love with you? If you’re being honest with yourself... Yes. Yes, you wanted him to be in love with you because you could tell that you were falling for him. And you were falling more and more with every glance and every touch from him. And thinking about the fact that it was all just pretend hurt. It hurt so bad. But you couldn’t just get rid of these feelings. And as much as you enjoyed spending time with Tom, you knew you had to distance yourself from him once the wedding was over. You knew that if you were to keep seeing him, it would only break your heart. 

Part 7

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[haileygonzales]

First Chapter of Nerdy, Aro Novel!

CHAPTER ONE

They’re not looking at you. They’re not looking at you. They’re not-

“Um, where do I sit?” I ask, shifting my weight to the side. It’s a lie. They are. I had arrived thirty minutes early for nothing. Mr. Zhong had arrived just as bell announcing class rang. What ever happened to teachers coming to school early? I’ve never been a new student before, and Greensville never had new students. Did teachers actually expect you to stand and introduce yourself? And it’s not like I could just sit down. Its October, seats are already in place. Taking someone’s spot would be a cardinal sin.

Mr. Zhong looks up from his papers he’s just slammed onto his desk and smiles warmly. “Sorry- sorry just running a bit behind today. What’s your name?”

“Paige Solano.” I glance nervously at the students slowly piling in, most of them glancing curiously at me. My body feels hot. I tense up. They’re not staring. They’re not staring. It’s fine. I’m okay. I push my glasses up further on my face.

“Let me see… There it is. I have a seat right there, Ms. Solano.” He points to the back of the classroom next to the door. The tightness around my chest eases. At least I don’t have to worry about being in the front. I make my way to my seat with my head tucked down.

I pull out my binder, glancing at the piece of paper tucked into the side. Right. My goals for the year. I’m always making to do lists and goals. It’s supposed to help me focus, but I’m a procrastinator down to my core.

PAIGE’S GOALS FOR THE YEAR

·              Make true friends

·              Don’t be afraid to tell your interests- Anime! Fanfiction! Art!

·              Wear nerd shirts for two whole weeks

My hand trembles around my pencil. I glance back up at Mr. Zhong. There’s something missing. It’s been in the back of my mind but writing it down just feels odd. Mr. Zhong is in the zone, pointing to the grammar example on the screen projector. It’s been years since I’ve seen one of those. I look around making sure that no one’s checking out my paper. Screw it. I said I’d make the best of this move.  If I’m being honest, I wasn’t even sad to leave Greensville. I wouldn’t miss the people I hung out with because they weren’t actual friends. We just hung out, so we wouldn’t be by ourselves. I take a deep breathe. Okay, I’ll write it.

·              Lose my virginity

My face burns. If my mom sees this, I’ll just about die. It’s a funny thing being aromantic. I had only just discovered that word about a year ago, but hearing it changed my life. I’m in my junior year right now and I had never had a crush. I didn’t understand people that did. I just… I never felt that way. I didn’t feel romantic attraction. I never had the thought: I want to date him.

For a while, I thought romance books were a lie because I hadn’t felt what they told me I should feel. Of course, that’s when I discovered a reddit forum and found the word aromantic. No romantic feels necessary here. Though that left a problem. I’m not asexual. I do feel lust. I think guys are hot and I want the sex. I’m ready. But I don’t want a boyfriend and the thought of having one just makes me feel all gross inside, so that left me with one option. A hook-up. No yucky feelings about being attached to romantically. Just sex.

I close my binder and pull out my notebook. There’s no way I’m letting anyone see that list. I write down the examples Mr. Zhong has on the screen, but my mind is elsewhere. I didn’t want those distant relationships I’ve had with friends. The sad thing is those are the kind of friends I’ve had all my life.

But I’m going to change that with this move.

I swear it.

“How was your day, sweetie?” Mom asks once she comes home from work. When Mom upped and announced our move out of nowhere, I hadn’t questioned it. I was relieved, but too shy to tell her. But I knew being relieved shouldn’t have been a normal reaction. According to all the movies and shows, I should’ve thrown a fit and hated her. But I wasn’t. Greensville just felt so stifling. I grew up with the same kids from kindergarten to junior high and by now, their opinions of who I was had already caged me in. Shy Paige. Quiet Paige. Nice Paige. But I’m not that. Or rather, not just that.

I hadn’t realized until we left town with all of our stuff jammed into our car what it truly meant. That Dad wouldn’t be just a ten-minute walk from school. That my memories of him were just getting further and further away…

I’ve wanted to ask her why. Bowden is similar to Greensville in many ways. There’s nothing to do here. But I knew Mom wanted this move, because she had no reason to. Mom had a secure job as a fifth-grade teacher back in Greensville, and she moved here for the same job. Why did she want to move so suddenly?  

“It was good.” I lie as I shift from my spot on the couch to turn and face her. Our living room is filled with boxes. But at least we had the TV set up. I don’t want to talk about school. If Mom knew the truth, she’d feel bad. Because the truth is that I had wandered around lunch the whole time trying to find a spot where I could sit by myself without feeling like a loser. I thought it’d be easy to make friends, but everyone kept to themselves and my stomach curled at the thought of approaching groups.

“I’m glad.” Mom smiles, the corner of her eyes wrinkling. I know Mom’s worried about me. She’s been worried since she announced the move. I should’ve been angry for the sudden move, instead I couldn’t stop smiling. Maybe Mom thought I was leaving behind a gang or something. “I was thinking… Let’s go out for dinner today.”

We only just started to unpack yesterday. Our house is part box, part living-space. My room looks like I’m moving out for college or something. I head to my room after giving Mom the remote. Talking just seems… exhausting. I could start unpacking, but any strenuous movement sounds gross, so instead I upload Crunchyroll on my phone and start One Piece. There’s, like, nine hundred episodes. I’m only a hundred in. I figured in about three to five years, I’ll catch up.

That leads me to watch My Hero Academia. I only watch two episodes, but three hours pass. I have this routine to scour the internet after every show, searching for opinions. It’s very cathartic to see that other people thought Bakugou is a brat that needs some justice shoved into his face. Man, just thinking about him irritates my skin. At least, Midoriya, that little flower child, can cheer me up.

“Paige, it’s time for dinner!” Mom’s voice shakes me out of the latest reddit forum. There’s a ping on my phone. As I walk forward, I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face. About a year ago, I started posting my fanart on Instagram, Tumblr, and Twitter. It’s not successful or anything but I get a hundred likes a photo. Each like just makes my heart want to burst. Though I try to have a variety, most of it is just Leaf’s Epic Adventure. That anime has hit me in the feels, and its hit me hard.

I shove my phone in my back pocket and head out the door.

~~~

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