#yes i took this on my phone with the shades over the lens

[angrywarrior69]

[my-darling-boy]

how do you do your photo sessions? is it just you and your camera or is someone else taking photos ? theyre all so cool and im rlly curious as to how you do it !!!!!!

I’m so glad someone finally asked this, I was just talking about this with someone and honestly it is SO funny.

The trick is: as long as you’ve got a camera, luck, and at least one tripod—along with understanding of some basic photography and a good imagination—you can do a LOT. I’m known for having whacky set ups! My sister helps me with them when I can’t do them all myself and let me tell you, we’ve come up with some weird things. I’ve been teaching my sister what I know about photography and film over the years, so she’s been a big help getting my own photos done, and in return I do ones for her.

In most of my photos, I’m in the bathroom. I don’t care what you think you see, I’m probably in the bathroom. Bathrooms have great lighting most of the time, and our bathroom has a skylight which is great natural lighting. If you don’t have access to a lot of professional lighting, setting up rigs in front of windows is great. I love using everyday objects and making them look ambiguous to suit my needs for a different object. My “halo” is literally a paper plate. I’m wearing a pillowcase. I set up the camera, my sister just had to check my positioning and lighting and click the button since I don’t have a remote.

Again, I am in the bathroom. I’m still sitting on top of a counter. This one, we stacked some boxes haphazardly and put our lighting on top, which is usually this really bright survivalist lantern. I also taped a clip lamp to a tripod. My sister was standing on the opposite bathroom counter. It was so hot in there so I was in shorts and thigh highs, but you wouldn’t know that just by the photo

I was in my bedroom for this one! A couple of tripods, an edited background, and a suggestive expression was all I needed to make this look like the Lieutenant and I were having a Good Time in his trench lodgings. If you don’t have an actual historical object like a swagger stick, a wooden spoon with a thimble on the end works too (as I found out). If you get creative enough, there are tons of objects and clothing you can fake. And yes my phone mount for the tripod is literally a macaron box I fashioned to hold my phone

This is a great example of knowing how to frame your subject. We loved the treeline in the back garden because it resembled being out in nature, but we have a rather unattractive space out there surrounding it. To solve this, I got up on a high stool and my sister knelt down below and shot the photo from the nearer the ground. You would never know just out of frame was a garage, a trash heap, a shed, a truck, and other suburban houses.

I’ll let you take a guess as to where I’m at for this one.... yes it’s the bathroom again. This time I’m by this awkward corner on the floor near the tub. We stacked a hamper on top of the tub and rolled some foam into a cone to direct lighting from a phone and lantern at my face. There was no angle to take the photo without running into the tub or shower so my sister had to take it in the tub. My knees and abs were killing me cos I had to half-kneel for the position, and strain my eyes to look up. There was also a low tripod behind me to drape my “mantle” over to keep it from falling flat against my back.

I don’t even know how to explain this one and I couldn’t even fit it all in the drawing. We got in front of the downstairs window, hung the same white bedsheet I use so much from the ceiling, I knelt on a chair, and I set up the tripod just out of frame in that drawing. We basically gathered every lamp we could reasonably put in the window sill and took the shades off two tall lamps or optimal lighting. I taped bee magnets to my skin. The “clouds” are actually just pulled apart cotton balls taped to a straw and held in various positions in front of the lens. Perfect perspective play.

An honourable mention was my audio set up for my October ghost video.

I don’t have professional audio equipment aside from a Yeti mic, so we had to get creative with how we would get the mic close enough to the subject. Yes, that is a tripod duct taped to another tripod and counter weighted by a bag of books. My mic is literally screwed into a socket it’s not supposed to even be in on the end of the tripod and the cord for it wouldn’t reach the couch to my laptop so I had to stack a stool on a chair next to this incredible contraption with the laptop on top so it could reach. How this entire thing did not collapse at any point is beyond me. (Can you tell I love tape and lamps?)

For photo editing programs, I hate editing on the computer and I will eat my own shoes before I give Adobe any of my money, so I use Enlight and Afterlight 2 from the App Store on my phone, and also FaceTune for certain face corrections. Afterlight 2 has a filter called “Himalaya” which is VERY similar to how 1880s-1920s photos looked and the app has plenty of dust overlays to make your photo look old. Enlight I use for broader ranges of image correction and background editing. Some examples of old photos I’ve done with a combination of those apps:

My sister and I are very resourceful and creative whenever we do these things. I don’t have any formal training in photography, I just have a vision of what I want and I try to do what I can to achieve it. I’ve had photographers with masters degrees in photography tell me it’s astounding I’ve been able to achieve photo results that rival their own with what limited resources I had while they had access to everything under the sun at their uni.

In short, all I really do is pull out my camera and some tripods and other makeshift items with a photoset in my mind, and sometimes I burst into my sister’s room standing like “hi welcome to chili’s” if I need some assistance

[sarcastich]

Crown Made Of Barbwire

Everyone got their wings, sooner or later.

Feathers of every color, size, variation.

They start as two little bumps on your back, itching like a growing tooth, around the same time you hit puberty. A bit earlier for girls, a bit later for boys. They grow over the course of your teenage years, and stop once all their feathers have reached their full size.

Some people could fly with their wings, some couldn’t. Most people’s wings were two meters on each side when they were outstretched.

Peter’s wings had only taken two years to grow fully, and were beautiful, pure-white angel wings.

He’d never seen anyone with wings like his. All the other white wings were more like snow owls, speckled with browns and grays, or had underlying colors that gave the top feathers a tint.

He couldn’t quite fly with them, but they were perfect for gliding. He’d scale the tallest buildings in his area, and get a running jump off of them, plummeting for a moment before he got pulled up and flew around the neighborhood until his wings got tired. Of course, you couldn’t just fly anywhere whenever you wanted to. You needed permits, licenses, there were laws to uphold. Most people preferred staying on the ground, anyway.

But not everyone got to keep their feathered wings.

Peter had always heard stories of the burnt ones.

His aunt used it as a reason for him to be good, or when his friends were yelling about seeing criminals they’d allegedly seen out ‘n about.

“-Eat your greens or your wings will burn right off, Pete”

“-I’m telling you, man! His wings were all black and torn up, I’m not kidding!”

They were the result of corruption, evil, immorality, and sin. Once soft feathers scorched, charred, and turned into soot. They blackened and burned away, turning into a shadow of their past wonder, skeletal and black.

Peter had never imagined that one day he’d be standing at the Four Seasons, shooting photos for The Bugle, trying to get a good shot of the Tony Stark.

Peter was among the crowd of journalists and other photographers, rapidly clicking away, aiming his camera lens at Stark. Reporters were yelling out questions, waving wired microphones and recorders over the barrier between them and the walkway Tony Stark was walking down.

There was something about his wings that set them apart from a normal burnt set. Most CEOs, businessmen or just rich, successful, famous people had burnt wings.

But Tony Stark’s weren’t just burnt.

They had horns cascading from the tips to the forearms. The burning away of the pure white feathers had revealed bat-like structures. Stark had no idea why, or how. That was just how they were. Or so he’d told the public.

Peter’s breath caught in his throat when Stark focused on him, looking into his camera and flashing a well-practiced smile. Peter fumbled for a moment before he looked through the viewfinder and took several photos.

And again, he’d never imagined that he’d get a personal request for a photoshoot, by the Tony Stark.

He packed his camera bag with shaky hands, taking extra drives and lenses.

His boss had pulled him aside earlier that morning, and told him that Stark had reached out and asked for Mr. Parker to be the one present and in charge of the interview’s photos. Peter, of course, had accepted in a second. He’d be an idiot to decline. Tony Stark’s picture on his portfolio? What kind of artist would he be if he said no?

Peter stepped out of the glass lobby of The Bugle offices half an hour later and looked up from his phone, his camera bag slung over his shoulder. He was wearing a deep red sweater over a white collared shirt, the front tucked into his soft beige dress pants. He hoped his outfit wasn’t too casual for the occasion, but he didn’t really have time to change anyway.

Just as he looked away from the screen, a sleek black car pulled up in front of him. The driver’s window rolled down.

“Peter Parker?” the driver, a roundish man, asked.

“Y-yeah- yes!”

The man jerked his head towards the back seat door.

“Get in, kid.”

Peter did as told, nervously sliding into the car, barely moving when he sat on the leather seat, hugging his bag.

“Wh- Where’re we going-?” His voice came out a lot squeakier than he’d meant for it to.

“Stark Industries Tower, where else?”

Almost an hour later, the car stopped in front of the blue, glass building. The driver got out and opened Peter’s door. He hadn’t moved since he’d gotten in.

Getting out of the car and almost forgetting his bag, he mumbled, most of his attention drawn by the tall tower.

“Thank you- uh, mister- um-”

“Hogan. Happy Hogan.”

“Yes! Thanks!”

With a nod, he closed the car door and got back in, driving off. Peter took a deep breath, held his bag properly again and started towards the building.

After a short chat with one of the three receptionists, he was led to an elevator a bit farther away from the general area of the entry. He and a shorter woman entered the lift. Judging from her formal attire, Peter guessed she was an assistant. Her wings were far smaller than his own, made up of light blue feathers with streaks of royal blue. He kept his own wings contracted to offer her enough room in the small space.

“Friday, take us to the penthouse, and please let Mr. Stark know that Mr. Parker will be arriving shortly.”

Peter looked at her, confused until a soft tone went off and the elevator started its ascent.

She smiled at him before he let out a soft “Oh-” and averted his gaze.

With another soft tone, the lift stopped and she gestured for him to step out.

“Thanks-”, he started to say, but the elevator door was already closing behind him.

The elevator had opened to something like a living room area. Two sleek, white sofas were facing the rounded glass walls, with an ornate sculpture between them that looked like five giant bowls stacked on top of each other. Everything Peter could see was modern and minimal, with a white-gray aesthetic throughout the penthouse.

He looked around nervously, holding on to his bag by the shorter strap.

“Mr. Parker, welcome.”

Peter gasped and turned around with a jump, startled.

“M-Mr. Stark! Y-yes, hi, I’m Peter Parker, I-I’m here for the Bugle interview shoot?” He inwardly cringed at how he sounded, stuttering, his voice a lot higher than it usually was, clutching his bag for dear life.

Stark smirked at him. “I know, kid, calm down.” He gestured towards the sofas. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

Peter stuttered out a thank you, and sat down at the far end of one. He kept his wings close to his body, feeling like he was taking up too much space, still hugging his bag to his chest. He looked up shyly, taking Stark in properly. His wings were relaxed as he walked to the sofa facing Peter, sitting down comfortably.

“Are you afraid of me, Mr. Parker?”

“N-No sir. I mean, you’ve obviously done s-some- uh-.. Not so great things- but uhm- You’re an icon, people admire you-”

“Would you like anything to drink?” Stark cut him off, motioning to the minibar that had very literally risen from the ground.

Peter stuttered out, “Oh- N-No, thank you, I can’t drink on the job-”

Stark poured himself two fingers of whiskey in a lowball glass, without ice, and gently pushed down the top of the minibar, and it reclined back into the floor, looking like another dark grey ceramic tile.

He took a sip, eyes trained on Peter.

Peter cleared his throat, relaxing a bit. “So, where d’you think would be best for the uhm- the shots-?”

They talked about light placement, the conversation somehow dragging over to technology and science, Peter engaging a lot more, and forgetting his nervousness eventually.

After about an hour, they got up, Peter set up his camera, and took his photos.

A behind-shot of Tony Stark with his hands tucked into his pants pockets, wings stretched out behind him. A side profile, while buttoning his suit, and various other shots.

Peter was on his knees, getting a photo of one of Tony Stark’s iconic shades on a small table, the city line stretching out behind it.

Stark had excused himself to take a call, and told Peter to take photos of anything that he wanted. Peter didn’t hear him step back into the room, too focused on trying to set his camera’s shutter speed. Stark quietly took long strides to him, stepping in front of the table.

“Oh, Mr. Stark-! I just wanted to take a shot of the glasses, they’re-”

He stammered into silence as Mr. Stark softly ran the back of his finger along his cheek. He held it under Peter’s chin, tilting his head up. Peter was blushing furiously, but couldn't make himself look away.

“Let me see your wings, angel.”

Three months later, Peter’s life had changed drastically.

He was decked out in the latest designer clothes, a skinny white Etro strap top to match his wings, baby blue Dolce & Gabbana shaded glasses perched on this nose, sitting by a marbled kitchen counter, a Valentino white leather clutch bag resting on it, and inspecting his manicured nails.

A man in an obsidian black suit entered the room, buttoning his jacket and running a hand through his hair, smirking.

“Ready, angel?”

Peter looked up, a cheeky smile on his lips. Wings fluttering, he slid off his high stool and made his way to him. He straightened Tony’s tie and pecked his nose.

“Yes, daddy.”

He leaned away, but Tony let out a growl, grabbing Peter by his waist and pulling him flush against his body.

Peter gasped, “You’ll ruin my outfit!”

“Angel, I bought it.”

Peter pouted, “Well yeah, but you gave it to me”

“I’ll buy you a new one, you spoilt brat.”

Peter giggled and cupped Tony’s face, looking into his eyes and leaning into his touch. “Y’know I love you, Tones.”

They kissed softly, Tony not letting go of his vice grip on Peter’s waist.

“Tony, we’re gonna be late... I want you to check the set up one last time-”

“Angel, I had you set things up. I trust you.”

Earlier that day, Peter had gone to the hotel’s restaurant on the top floor, under a different name and reservation. He’d checked the entire place for wires, mics, or anything that could put them in any sort of bad situation. He checked exit points, weak spots, and all the cameras. He’d been thorough.

He had taped a Glock 9 mm handgun underneath their side of the table, checking repeatedly to make sure it was fully loaded and had its safety off.

Peter grumbled a bit, before letting go of Tony, dramatically sighing, rolling his eyes and picking up his handbag from the counter.

“Well, we should get going anyway.”

Tony shot him a wolfish grin before grabbing his wrist and pulling him back.

“You missed something, i mio angelo.”

He tilted his head to the counter, a navy blue felt box sitting on it now. Peter was surprised. He knew it was a jewelry box, but he hadn’t asked for anything, and even though Tony loved showering him with gifts, there was usually some silly occasion he used as an excuse for it.

He curiously looked at the box, wondering what it was. Something beautiful, no doubt.

“Go on then, Angel, it’s yours.”

Peter stepped back up to the counter and set down his bag on the nearest stool. He pulled the box closer to himself before glancing at Tony, who was smirking at him, arms crossed against his chest.

He slowly opened it, keeping his eyes on Tony until the lid was completely vertical.

His eyes flicked down to the box, and he took in a sharp gasp, hands flying to cover his mouth. “Tony, you didn’t!”

Tony’s smirk grew into a full grin again as Peter rushed around the counter to kiss him, cradling the box in his arms, even though he could easily just hold it in one hand.

“Of course I did, mia carissimo.”

Tony took the box from Peter’s hands, setting it down on the counter. He pulled out the choker he’d gotten for his princess, with Round Brilliant cut, D rate diamonds in the center of Cushion cut diamonds arranged like figure eights.

Peter lightly grazed his own neck with his fingertips, already feeling the weight on his neck, even though he hadn’t touched the jewels yet. Tony held up the necklace.

“May I have the honor?”

Peter silently turned his back to Tony, holding his head high. Tony pressed a kiss to the back of Peter’s bare neck and gently ran his hand through Peter’s feathers, making him shudder before placing the necklace on his neck and fastening the tiny clasp. It didn’t have a chain at the end, it had a specific size. Peter’s size.

Half an hour later, Tony held the passenger door of his Audi R8 Spyder open and led Peter out, Peter giving him his hand like a princess, to the entry of the hotel. There was no swarming press, just the coming and going of guests of the hotel.

Handing his keys over to a valet, Tony pressed a kiss to the back of Peter’s hand.

“Relax, angel.”

They walked into the lobby hand in hand, people stopping to stare at them every few feet. Even if they didn’t know who Tony Stark was, they’d stop to look at the man with the bat wings and the boy who looked like an angel.

They didn’t stop at the reception, they walked straight to the private elevator that led to the restaurant, Tony’s security detail already armed and ready at the top. Once they got there and had been patted down and checked for weapons by Osborn’s security, Tony walked them over to their table.

It overlooked the city skyline, winking lights dotting the land underneath them. He pulled out a chair for Peter, getting a soft smile in return. Sitting in the chair next to him, he held his hand again. Peter shot him a worried look.

Peter kept his voice low, “I thought you said he’d be here on time?”

“Princess, he’s only five minutes late. His detail’s here, he’ll be here, too.”

Peter toyed with the table’s centerpiece while they waited. After about ten minutes, Tony abruptly got up, rebuttoning his suit.

“C’mon bambino, we’re leaving.”

Before Peter could get up, there was a short yell and a loud muffled thump from the elevator.

The glass wall beside their table shattered, rapid shots taking out most of the security team. Tony yanked Peter down by his suit collar, looking out at the building in front to try and see the snipes. The elevator doors ominously opened, a man in black armour stepping out. His wings were plated with metal.

It all happened in the span of two seconds.

He shot the remaining guards before training his gun on Tony. Before he could get a word out, Peter pulled the gun he’d hidden earlier. In an instant, he cocked it and aimed for the man’s head.

The assassin had been a split second too late in aiming at Peter.

Peter fired.

The shooter fell to the floor, dead.

Peter dropped the gun, falling to his knees, a sudden hiss sounding behind him.

His wings had burst into flames.

He yelled out, pain blooming in his wings and along his back. Tears sprung from his eyes and ran down his face, ash falling around him, smoke rising behind him as Tony rushed to his knees beside him, holding him as he cried into Tony’s shoulder, his agonized screams muffled.

In the matter of minutes, his angelic wings were gone.

[angelhotchner]

Polaroids

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader Style: One Shot / Drabble Contents: Marshmellow Fluff

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and each word began with you.

Masterlist

There was a reason that film-makers loved orange and teal. Everything seemed to come alive within the lens of a camera, objects and surroundings complimenting each other with a familiar ease, like old friends meeting for the first time in years.      You raised the camera to your eye, squeezing the button slowly. The camera gradually rolled out an image, and you wafted it lightly in the air, a smile creeping onto your face as you waited for the moment to take shape on the small film. The beauty of the fall leaves, hanging on for dear life on the tree branches, almost waving to the clear soft sky, the sun icing the tree with a golden glint.       It was your favourite time of year. Life seemed so beautiful in the fall and you captured it every year on your polaroid, always returning to the same park. Sometimes you’d take photos of passers-by, making sure to show them the photo afterwards and ask them if it was okay for you to keep. They’d always said yes - some even gave their emails and begged for a copy.      The sky had run it’s course of camera time. You trailed your eyes around the park, wondering what else to capture, when your eyes settled on a lone man. He was young, maybe late twenties, sat on a bench with a book open on his lap. His elbow rested on the bench rest with his hand holding his chin and his right leg crossed over the left. His glasses covered his brows, but you could just about see the small scrunch of skin above the frames, the hinting sign of his concentration for the paper world he seemed lost in. He seemed to compliment the park so elegantly - a red jumper that pushed him out from the orange leaves, mousy curls that shone a few shades lighter than the bark of the trees, and straight grey pants that juxtaposed the light oak bench. A spark of personality shone through in the way he sat - two brightly-coloured, mismatched socks peeked through.       You took the photo.      It was your favourite one that you’d taken today, probably the best photo you’d taken in a while. You gave away a soft little grin, and made your way over to the man. He seemed a little taken aback when you appeared in front of him, pushing his glasses a little closer to his eyes as he raised his head to look at you.      “Hi, my name is Y/N…I take photos as a hobby. I took this one of you, do you mind if I keep it? It’s just for a personal portfolio, I promise,” You spoke, your voice delicate and almost shy. His hand stretched out to take the photo from you gently, studying it for a moment with an unreadable expression.      “This is really good,” He said, breaking into a smile. You stared at his smile, toothy and bright. Warm. So warm.        You realised you were staring at him.       “Thank you, I can give you a copy if you want,” You recovered, sitting down next to him and pulling out your phone. “Type in your email,”        He nodded and you watched his thumbs tap away on the screen.        “I only have an email for work,” He mumbled, passing the phone back to you.        “That’s okay…” You paused to read the name. “Spencer,”         He grinned again, a little softer this time. He liked the way you said his name.         “I love your hat,” He pointed towards the brown wide-rimmed hat on your head, and you chuckled. He liked the way you laughed, too.         “Thank you!”        You were both silent for a moment. You took the time to glance over at what he was reading.        “The Narrative of John Smith? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read that. It never gets old,” You smiled, studying the cover. His face broke into pure joy and he completely turned his body towards you.       You talked about the book for a while, finding out it was one of his favourites that he’d read so many times. He said he had an eidetic memory, so he could remember it word by word. You’d asked him if that ever became boring - if he could reread books with a pristine memory and still become swept away in the story. Somehow, he could.       “I think I’m going to take a walk for some coffee. Do you want to join me?” You asked, feeling a little coy

and awkward, but he stood up almost immediately and gestured for you to lead the way.      “I can never say no to coffee,” He laughed, and you began walking out of the park, Spencer at your side, the conversation flowing freely between you both.      You both grabbed coffee to go at a nearby Starbucks and headed back to the park so that you could take more photos. The way he struggled to hold the coffee and keep the book under his arm at the same time made you giggle, and you took the book from his grasp, your fingers trailing against his hand softly as you pulled the novel away from him.      “Don’t worry, I’m just going to keep it safe in my bag,”       At some point along the way back to the park, your free hand had clasped his gently, and then your fingers had intertwined, holding onto each other tentatively. You saw him glance down at your interlocked palms a couple of times with a sweet smile pulling at his lips.       “I’m going to take more photos,” You began as you found your way back to the bench, stopping slowly and facing each other, your hands still joined together. “Will you spend the rest of the day with me?” You felt a little stupid as soon as you asked, embarrassment creeping in on you, but it subsided when you heard him snicker.     “Only if I get to wear your hat,” He joked, and you broke your hand away from his, already missing the contact, to pull the hat from your head. He eagerly took it from you, placing it on his head and walking away from you, his fists in the air as a sign of victory. You just about managed to grab your camera from your bag, snapping the moment in perfect timing just before he turned around.      You both laughed as the ink resurrected on the fresh film, and you grabbed a pen from your bag to write his name on the film border, wanting the memory to connect with his name, to remember it forever. Longer than forever.

Once you got home that night, you scanned and emailed him all the photos you’d taken of him. You were even in a few of them.       He emailed back the following Monday morning.     You still have my book and I still have your hat. I’m using that as an excuse to ask you out on a date. Are you free tomorrow night?

[missinghan]

to my youth ⤖ lee felix

❖ genre : summer au; high school au; fluff

❖ word count : 11,6k.

❖ warning : explicit language, slow burn

❖ summary : it is official that life hates you because not only was your first few days of summer ruined by a stupid field trip, but things also got somewhat freaky… whatever kind of ‘freaky’ you’re thinking about.

❖ note : i know i said i’m ‘experimenting’ with new stuff but guess who’s back with another mediocre, not-that-well-written mess of a domestic au; please (kindly) yell at me to dabble into a new genre after bearing through this fic- happy reading!

one.

The echoes of your summer days remain as flowers immune to the winter chill, they say.

You’re not entirely sure who even fathomed their time and effort to come up with that statement but from your point of view, those flowers would most likely have either died out from the summer heat or withered horrendously because of the arbitrary showers of rain. Or you’re the only one who doesn’t have the luxury to see life through a rose-colored lens.

Because the first thing that comes to mind for you is the bucket of ice-cream and a YouTube OG that you’ve ceased to finish since finals started two weeks ago. The bell rings, pens down, everyone pours out of the classroom after handing in their exam papers. No one really bothers to check up on each other’s answers anymore; the last subject for today was AP Psych and you don’t know about them but you honestly can’t care any less thereafter cramming the entirety of five chapters. 

Sprinting down the staircase, you easily spot Felix amongst the midst of drowsy high school students for the bright color of his hair. He truly believes that if he slaps enough hair essence and coconut oil on his head four times a week, his hair won’t feel like straws when he changes it every other three weeks. But it’s only a matter of time before balding catches up to him, he’ll learn eventually.

“Please don’t tell me that you left your keys in class,” you sigh upon the sight of him fumbling with his folders and textbooks while trying to open his locker in vain. Just thinking about walking all the way back to the third floor makes you want to use your backpack as a pillow and take a nice nap in the middle of the hallway.

“Gee, Y/N,” Felix makes a face to not show the sense of relief washing over him when he locks eyes with you. “Who do you take me as? A clumsy person?”

“No, just a dumbass.” You coldly snatch a slipping book from his arms before turning to twist the disc in the combination of your birthday until the lock clicks, shaking the shackle off to swing his locker open. It’s a silent tradition that you both set each other’s birthday as your locker’s combination since elementary school; it started out as a stupid joke at first but neither of you really bothered to change it. 

“Why the hell would you put your keys in the locker?” you widen your eyes in disbelief as he grabs the bright yellow Spongebob plushie to collect his keys with a shit-eating grin

“My alarm didn’t go off today, so I was running a little late,” he defends himself while dumping everything out of his backpack, hugging an empty water bottle to his side. 

You throw a wave at a very tired Hyunjin walking side by side with Seungmin on his right and Jisung skipping happily towards your direction. Seungmin looks exceptionally moody today, you pray he didn’t mess up an easy question to take it out on all of you later in the car. “Bet you were staying up late to play Overwatch with Chan.” 

Felix manages to grin stiffly at your comment, turning on his heels and trudges onto the school’s parking lot. “Fine, walk home.” 

“Hey, you forgot to lock this!” you pull his steps into a halt by making a grab for his hand, utterly oblivious at how his cheeks flare up with a bright shade of red at your touch. Or out of embarrassment. Whatever, same thing. 

Felix might be a better driver than you, but he’d be fired ten seconds into the job of a babysitter.

With that being said, when Jeongin decides it’s a good idea to cheer a passive-aggressive, post-exams Seungmin up with a carton of strawberry milk and then proceeds to get lost in his own school, the very same school he’s been attending for who knows how long, you’re the one who manually pulls his ass back into Mrs. Lee’s Jeep within ten minutes. 

And Seungmin has already fallen asleep by the time Jeongin’s back, so now he’s the passive-aggressive one while sipping on the milk bitterly. Either way, this is why you headcount although there are only six of you after Changbin starts getting busy with his college applications. 

“What took you so long?” Jisung looks up from his phone the moment you climb into the passenger’s seat, clicking in your seatbelt (drive safe, kids). 

You immediately feel the need to snap a photo of Jeongin accidentally breaking the cafeteria’s door with the staff running towards him in a panic. They’re more scared for his life than the door itself and that’s… sweet to say the least but with the way that the embarrassed boy is glaring at you through the rear-view mirror, you decide to keep your lips sealed. 

“It’s getting dark so all hallways start to look the same, you genius.”

Jisung momentarily sticks his tongue out at you. “God, you’re so rude to me. You’d never talk to Felix like that.”

“Because,” you drawl. “Lix is a pure-hearted angel descended from the realms of Heaven. Whereas, even Lucifer would see you as an eyesore in hell.”

“See! You’re doing it again!” Jisung points a finger at you in accusation, jumping up and down in his seat but no one really cares. It’s not like you’re speaking any false facts. “Stop bullying me!”

Seungmin shifts his body a little, nose scrunched up at the noises that wake him right up. “Jisung,” he warns his friend without opening his eyes. “Sit the fuck down, you have five seconds.”

Felix smirks when Jisung immediately cowers, slumping and leaning himself against Hyunjin in utter defeat. He learned not to mess with Seungmin after throwing a wallet at him on impulse. “Jealous much, Han?” 

“Nah, she’s all yours bro,” Jisung waves it off tiredly; bickering and making fun of Felix’s gigantic crush on you is too much for his brain to process today. He can really use a long, solid twelve-hour summer hibernation after getting home. 

The statement prompts Felix to look over at you when there’s a red light—the same exact moment as you stop staring at the bakery from across the road to lock eyes with him. There’s a little spark igniting at the pit of his stomach, stirring up butterflies inside his rib cage. But he snaps out of it after seeing you raise a brow at him, implying a silent ‘what?’ before turning away again. Felix has always been the type to stare so you don’t bother to think about it too much. 

The problem is: he only stares at you that way. 

A shade of coral creeps its way up to his cheeks, his gaze averting back on the roads when the light turns green. As Felix tries to calm the erratic tempo of his heartbeat, he also thinks about how much time he’d have left to confess before high school is over and everyone takes their own different paths. Then again, the future is far too blurry for him to make out anything and the thought of changes petrifies him a bit too much. 

Felix wishes to hold your hand until the very end but he’s a little scared...because what if you never wanted to be with him in the first place?

two.

Your brother has one talent, and that’s his ability to irritate the living daylight out of you even when he’s practically on the other side of the planet.

Minho (un)fortunately finished his finals with flying colors, and inevitably, you’re the first victim to receive a series of texts that consisted of nothing but self-indulgent, excessive bragging. Basically, he’s allowed to do whatever slash go wherever for a good three weeks before his summer internship begins, dragging his dumb ass back to hell—where he rightfully belongs. 

He’s probably chomping on a terribly unhealthy amount of pizza, pretzels, and any type of New York street food that you can name from the top of your head. It’s not like he’s paying for them anyway since Chan doesn’t allow people to touch their wallets if they happen to eat out with him. 

Your phone vibrates obnoxiously on your desk, the judder slightly muffled because it’s lying on top of your wide-open psych textbook. You haven’t bothered with cleaning up yet; finals only ended yesterday and you decide that you won’t touch anything until the disarray starts to scrape against your nerves. 

Side note: you’ve specifically told everyone not to call you three consecutive days after finals because yes, you’re that much of a loner, and yes, your stamina level for tolerating human interaction is awfully low. 

Second side note: no one ever listens. 

“Good morning, this is Lee Minho’s personal bullshit pail,” you mumble after your thumb swipes against the screen to pick up, your limbs curled up on the floor. “How can I possibly help you today?” Your morning voice isn’t necessarily threatening but rather scary; according to what Minho claimed, it sounds identical to that creepy girl from The Grudge so he groans aloud, his voice suddenly going out of focus on the other line from pulling his phone away.

“Jesus Christ are you still in your hermit phase after finals?” he questions callously, sounding not at all pleased with the way you greeted him. “Where’s mom and dad? Usually, they would have slammed your ass by now for staying inside like a vampire.”

“Don’t be insufferable, it’s only like…” you trail off while bending forward to take a good look at the little Sumiko Gurashi alarm on your bookshelf that Felix gave you during middle school. “Nine thirty-something and they’re at the park to exercise, duh- why do you care?”

Your brother almost sings on the phone, “Because you’re my little baby sister-” And this prompts you to pull the device away for the sake of your poor ear. It doesn’t help when you’re already surrounded by a group full of obnoxiously loud individuals on a daily basis. Not trying to call anyone out but Han Jisung is at the top of the list, his name in bold, capital letters being circled and underlined multiple times with a red marker.

“Who do I gotta kill to sleep in on a dreadful Sunday morning as any normal, cranky, antisocial high school student would?” you deadpan and rub the bridge of your nose dreadfully. 

“I don’t know, go murder Jisung or something.” Honestly, that’s tempting… but no.

You can physically see the smug smile on his face right now, simpering in delight at your imminent misery. He knows goddamn well about your relationship with sleeping schedules and that’s the perfect excuse for him to ruin those little specks of time when your brain cells are getting an actual break. 

These are also the times when you wish phones don’t fucking exist. 

“By the way, are you gonna go on the field trip tomorrow?” 

This question wakes you up almost completely because your eyes are now wide as a fish’s out of water, your hand automatically putting him on speaker before digging through the folders inside your backpack. What field trip? No one said anything about a field trip. And who thought it’s a good idea to force some worn-out, post-exams, sleep-deprived students into a field trip right after finals?

Minho hums coyly when the only response he’s getting is the rustling sound from your backpack, “Hmm, see what I meant there, little sis? Oh, the downside of living under a rock at its finest.” He doesn’t have to be here for you to fully picture the way that his lips curl up, dark brows wiggling whenever he’s right about something. Your brother wins most of the time against other people but overtaking you is an entirely different story.

“Oh screw off and go buy yourself a sense of humor.”

“Don’t be so mopey, isn’t Felix gonna be there?”

“What does Felix have to do with this?” you grit after managing to pull out a piece of paper from the very back, buried under countless of your essays. And it reads ‘field trip’ in caps at the top with tomorrow’s date right beneath. The trip lasts for three days, you’re going camping with the grizzly bears for three days—a total nightmare, basically. 

“Pfft, you’re actually dense for someone with a sparkly report card,” he sneers. “That kid has been crushing on you since elementary school. Are the signals that fucked up?”

“You mean when I accidentally spilled orange juice over his head? Sure, bet that’s why he’s so head over heels for me,” you snicker, unfazed by these kinds of statements. Minho only knows Felix because he was the president of your school's dance club and you fully believe that your brother is simply trying to mess with your malfunctioning, cranky mindset. 

“I fucking beg to differ, he always stares at you like you’re the love of his life, even when you stupidly poked yourself with a needle,” Minho announces as if he’s a love expert, tsk, amateur. “He might just confess during the trip, who knows? Campfire flickering. Sharing the same s’mores. Surrounded by nature. That sounds romantically ideal to me for a confession.”

He’s visioning everything like a terrible cliché film where two high schoolers stubbornly deny their feelings for each other until they start noticing how cute the other person is while magically being forced to be alone together. The worst kind of high school movie—which is also almost every high school movie. And you best believe that you’d a hundred percent kick your brother’s ass off that director’s chair because people live and breathe for this kind of overused entertainment. Tragic. 

“Alright, fuck this, I’m out-“

“Wait!” Minho exclaims out of nowhere, almost blowing up your eardrums. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

You swear you’re rolling your eyes so hard, they’re about to fall out of their respective sockets. “Well, obviously,” you put the piece of paper down with a sigh, contemplating ways to minimize the amount of socializing in the upcoming three days. “Haven’t you bothered me enough? No?”

“You can’t leave me like this,” he whines in an annoyingly high-pitched voice that sends chills down your spine. 

“You need me, we’re connected.” 

He sounds like a whack version of Minnie Mouse for a second there, the kind of plushie that looks cute but with disturbingly creepy voice audio; no parents would let their children go near that aisle. 

You yawn as if there’s no tomorrow, stretching your limbs tiredly. “What I need is for you to shut the fuck up and leave me alone so I can go on my merry way to pick up snacks for this stupid field trip,” you utter lifelessly. 

“You hurt my feelings,” Minho pretends to clutch onto his chest and lets out a dramatic gasp, his voice doused in pure sarcasm. “What a heartbreaker, Y/N.” Said the one who always keeps his apathetic front up like a fortress’ wall and tosses every single love letter on Valentine’s Day into the recycling bin, handing the chocolate out to his classmates like he’s giving leftover vegetables to his least favorite relatives.

“Oh, I can tell,” you reply with fake enthusiasm and mock empathy. “You know how I can tell?”

“Do not finish th-”

“Cause we’re connected.” With that you hang up, slamming your phone harshly onto the surface of your textbook. 

three. 

You might love your room a little too much, it’s getting somewhat unhealthy.

It was furnished with a rather meager budget after your family moved out of your hometown when you stepped into elementary school. Things stay the same, well, most of it as time passes by you unknowingly. Your sad bookcase used to exist for one sole purpose—carrying countless books and plushies has now been upgraded with too many polaroids of your dumb group of friends, a neatly framed photo of Class of 2020 and two trophies that don’t even belong to you since Minho ran out of space as he kept participating in random dance competitions. 

The morning beams find their way through your white curtains and stain your walls with patches of yellow, eventually bugging your vision until you successfully convince yourself to either 1) wake up and get ready for school or 2) lazily stride across your room to shut the blinds completely so you can head back to bed. It’s summer… so option one is temporarily non-existent for a solid three months. 

Hey, you’re just simply making up for those all-nighters with a new cup of coffee every two hours.

Speaking of your bed, it’s soft but takes up so much space to the point that Hyunjin keeps complaining about not having enough room for his legs when he’s sprawled across the floor with Jisung, vigorously focusing on a presentation’s outline. Seungmin calls you lame for not throwing away your childhood plushies and letting them hog at least one-third of your bed, but Felix doesn’t mind since he always needs something to hug. All the more reasons why you can only trust Felix.

You might miss having those idiots being loud and invading your personal space...maybe.

Your phone rings for the second time that morning when you’re walking downstairs, shoving your keys into your pocket and grabbing a protein bar on the counter. “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit right now, Minho,” you bark into the device, chewing on your breakfast aggressively, not bothering to look at the caller’s ID.

The closest convenience store is only twenty minutes away from your house but there’s a sticky note on the fridge from your mom, reminding you that she needs eggs to bake cupcakes for her company’s twentieth anniversary while your dad is running low on his Red Bulls. Basically, you’re in distress. It’s not like your dad should be inhaling those sugary drinks on a daily basis and your mom can just buy premade goods from the bakery. But there are more options for snacks at the supermarket…

“Y/N, the fuck?” The response of a voice as deep as the Pacific ocean almost makes you choke on air. “Did I wake you up or something?” Felix sounds flabbergasted on the other line, slightly taken aback. You almost feel bad because he’s the only sweetheart in your chaotic squad (besides Chan, obvi) except when he stays up late gaming with Hyunjin, pleading for your notes the next morning with puppy eyes.

“No, Minho did,” you grumble before tossing the wrapping into a bin.

“You don’t say,” Felix replies flatly, but his voice soon grows merry again after pushing the topic of your brother aside. “Oh, and I’m coming over to return your earphones, wanna grab breakfast?”

He practically lives ten minutes away from you, sees you almost every day even if it’s the weekend since he can’t stay in the same house with his sisters for too long and puts you on FaceTime every night to prevent himself from slacking off on assignments. The only time he didn’t get to see you for a week straight was when he visited Australia and accidentally dropped his phone into the ocean. It was a rough week without you nagging him for doing something stupid. Fundamentally, he’s merely making up more excuses to spend time with you after finals.

Chuckling, “Only if you’re treating me, I’m about to go broke from buying snacks for our field trip tomorrow.” you say breezily. 

And you’re only telling him that because he might just pay for your snacks as well since Felix Lee eats freshly grilled steak and mashed potato for breakfast. Baffling, absolutely. Plus, he works at a boba shop every summer either way and he would never hesitate to spend the entirety of his paycheck on any of his close friends. Irrelevant but the point is: you kinda don’t wanna go out alone today.

Or you’re just in the mood to go with Felix. That’s a useless statement since you both see each other at least ten out of twenty-four hours per day. 

“By the way, you know what I just realized?” Felix smacks his palm on his forehead. “This is our last field trip, like ever.”

Walking over to the rack of shoes down the hallway, you let out a large exhale. “That’s unfortunate on your behalf. I, on the other hand, don’t have a problem with that,” you tell him with zero consideration, your brain cells too busy picking out a pair of shoes to process the five basic steps to empathize with another human being. 

“No,” he emphasizes helplessly. “I meant, it’s like our last high school field trip. We’re graduating next year, no time to sleep with the grizzly bears again.”

You can only manage to utter, “Oh.” Shit, college is right around the corners. 

“Jesus fucking Christ what the hell am I supposed to do after high school? Stay here? Go abroad? Wait, aren’t applications for going abroad supposed to be turned in a year beforehand? Why are you only telling me this now!?” 

Felix laughs wholeheartedly through the phone, amused at your sudden outburst. “Y/N, calm down. You’re going to college, not prison,” he brushes it off casually but in a way, college is technically prison. Slaving over a degree while working part-time jobs, chasing time relentlessly like you’re driving in the middle of a foggy night with one headlight out. And you’re forced to open up with more strangers. It’s terrifying, actually terrifying. And you’re not the type to be easily terrified. 

Now come to think about it, you don’t get why you were so pressed about it five seconds ago. It’s a good opportunity not to leech off your parents as much, like dabbling, taking one baby step at a time into adulthood. After that, you’ll graduate again, probably settle somewhere with an adequate job and find someone, starting to think about having ki-

Hold up, you’re going too far. You’re barely a senior. 

“I guess we’ll just have to make the most out of this summer,” Felix’s voice snaps you back to the surface of Earth faster than a tick of a clock. “We’re outside, by the way. Open up.”

That fast? Furrowing your brows, you hang up to slip into a pair of sneakers before sprinting to the front door. Wait, your hand freezes as it grazes the doorknob. We?

Not again. 

“Why the fuck..” you cracks a lifelessly crooked smile after pushing the door wide open. “..are you here?” It’s only ten in the morning, and you don’t think you should be screaming at the top of your lungs to be jumped on by the whole neighborhood.

Felix takes a step back, a little scared for his life. “Uhh, to return your earphones?”

“No, no,” you run a hand through your hair tiredly. Just when you thought this day was gonna be peaceful. “I’m not talking about you, I’m talking about them. Since when was this an agreement? How dare-“

“Why yes, I missed you too!” Jisung exclaims like the little shit he is, throwing an arm over your neck to ruffle your hair. No one ruffles your hair without getting their ass slammed- except for Minho. “Why the long face? Let me guess, until this exact second, you thought there’s a fucking squirrel, a lama, a dog, and a kitten standing at your front porch? No, it’s us, your Forever BFFs.” He’s one of the reasons why you refuse to understand the humans’ language sometimes.

With a harsh shove from you, Jisung staggers backward only for Hyunjin to prevent him from rolling like a ball in the middle of your neighborhood. “One more word and I’m telling the whole class who your crush is,” you threaten, earning an involuntary snort from Seungmin. 

“I hate to admit this, but she might actually say yes if he makes the first move.”

Hyunjin supplies unconstructively, “That’s why he didn’t ask.”

“You know what, Hwang,” Felix says with a smirk tugging at his lips, bumping his fist against Hyunjin’s without turning his head. 

“Oh screw all of you.” Jisung’s getting all the attention he wanted this early in the morning yet he still feels like a loser. Perhaps he should try shutting up once in a while. 

four.

“Thanks for giving me a ride, uncle, you really didn’t have to,” Felix says generously from your dad’s back seats, scratching the nape of his neck as though this is the first time he’s ever shared a ride with you. 

He’s too humble sometimes you just want to smack him across the face with a pillow to stop being so formal with your dad. Heck, Felix downright called him ‘dad’ by accident once during a Christmas dinner back in middle school and your dad even encouraged him to keep addressing him like that. 

Not to mention, Felix is chomping on a turkey sandwich that your mom made this morning specifically for him after finding out that his parents are currently out of town and there's nothing but ramen in the cabinet. God forbids her to starve the same kid who helped your dad fix his bumper. So really, he should be expecting these things by now. 

“Oh it’s not a big deal, you’re too nice,” your dad laughs as he pulls over to your school’s front gate, careful not to run into that one really tall, ugly tree. You’re lowkey paranoid that people might die if it collapses during a storm or something. “Perhaps you can return the favor by getting a drink with me sometimes.”

Felix blinks numerous times, slightly gobsmacked. “...but I’m not old enough to drink yet.”

“Correct answer.” And you snicker when your dad turns around to toss a wink at your friend’s direction. “Doesn’t mean that I’m forbidding you kids have fun,” he clarifies upon the baffled expression on Felix’s face. “But not too much fun, got it?”

“Okay, okay dad, I’ll see you in three days,” you shake your head before climbing out of the car. “Don’t starve the cats while I’m gone. Oh! And Soonie still needs his lactobacillus-“

Your dad brushes it off with a sheepish smile, “I’ll leave it to your mom, muffin, I can’t even remember which dry food is for which cat. I also don’t think they’ll be starving anytime soon, those little demons are getting quite fat actually since your brother spoils them all the time.” You can only give him a mere eye-roll because as much as he claims to hate having pets, there have been countless times when you caught your dad red-handed trying to tuck the cats into bed in the middle of the night. 

Felix soon catches up with your steps after bidding him farewell, crumpling the sandwich wrapper in his palm. “Wait up, muffin,” he says breathlessly with a few skips, starting to think about not skipping dance practice again this summer before his body gets out of shape. 

“Shut up,” you grumble, followed by a harsh elbow jabbed into his side. Felix grunts in pain, slowing down a little but still tries to walk side by side with you nonetheless. “You don’t deserve that complimentary breakfast, I’m telling mom to cut your portion off next time.” 

“Ah! Come on, muffin! You’re being mean.”

Your biggest fear has inevitably come true—after all those years of erratic mood swings and other weird things puberty puts you through, Felix still makes fun of you for the nickname that your parents came up with on your first day of school. It doesn’t help with the fact that he meets them quite often too. Like four out of seven days a week since your parents love coming over to each other’s house for dinner. 

“Flip that scowl upside down now, will you?” Felix cups your cheeks and squishes them together, attempting to make your smile by tugging at the corners of your lips. “Aren’t you excited about the trip?”

You scoff at him, “Are you even hearing yourself? My entire existence reeks off ‘excitement’ 24/7.” 

“That’s bullshit.”

“I’m not responsible for whatever happens next to your face.”

But when you reach up to peel his hands away, you’re bound to make a grave mistake by looking straight into his eyes. The morning light hits his face at the right angle and it makes him look like a puppy—which you wouldn't mind starting at all day. Although it’s not like you haven’t got a good look at him before, something’s different today. From the way his irises twinkle gently like thousands of celestial bodies to how his freckles scattered across his cheekbones like the remaining bits from a supernova, his full lips with a prominent Cupid’s bow and his cute crooked teeth. 

You know all of these things; perhaps you’ve never put too much thought into them before. Not when you’re constantly facepalming at him for doing stupid TikTok dances and trying to eat a banana with its peel on. But now when you actually acknowledge them, your heart momentarily skips a beat. Or two. 

Doesn’t matter, you hate this feeling either way. 

“Get a room, this is disgusting to watch.” 

Seungmin steps in between you two with his backpack slung over his shoulders, hands resting on his hip like he’s babysitting you and your biological parents don’t pay him enough for this tedious job. But Felix is too busy making sure that his eyes aren’t malfunctioning when he sees a pink tint on your cheeks to focus on whatever nonsense Seungmin is spewing at him. 

“Get on the bus, losers! Y’all are embarrassing me!” Hyunjin yells as he plants a foot onto the bus, trying his best not to be subtle about the fact that all of your classmates have already been seated. 

You can practically see Jisung making weird faces from the window and next to him is a very cranky-looking Jeongin with his earbuds plugged in, deciding not to tolerate any chit-chatting this morning. It’s a shame how the school’s always on a low budget when it comes to transportation; consequently, some random freshmen got squeezed in with your class. 

So you elect to ignore your friend’s questionable behaviors (sometimes you wonder what he’s on to be this zealous at six in the morning) and grabs Felix's hand to climb onto the vehicle before coach Kim kicks your ass for slowing the schedule down. 

As you shuffle down the narrow aisle, you quickly realize there are only two seats left at the very back—basically, you feel a little guilty for not getting a good spot for Felix but he doesn’t seem to mind because he taps you on the shoulder lightly, signaling for you to move.

“Ugh, I wanna go home,” you sigh, slumping into your seat after tucking your backpack neatly on the small compartment above. 

“You’re boring,” Felix comments flatly but he’s partially glad that he got to sit with you instead of some blabberer. “Need this?” Fishing his earphones out of his backpack, he wiggles the banana milk case in front of your face. 

You only nod lazily at the offer, causing him to huff in disbelief before slipping in a side of his AirPods into your ear. You both have pretty similar taste in music so you don’t mind when he puts one of his playlists on random and Fly Me to the Moon bleeds into your eardrums. The soft melody makes you yawn a little, eyelids getting droopy. 

“Tired.” Is the only warning Felix gets before you decide to drop your head onto his shoulders, slipping your arm around his torso comfortably like it’s a pillow. You personally don’t do cuddles but since he’s into those things and smells nice—very fruity, somewhat musky too, you might as well take advantage of that with the hope of sleeping throughout the entire ride. 

“What is wrong with you today?” he asks with glowing cheeks. 

“Shh shh, I’m recharging my battery.”

Felix is a little flustered, to say the least. But instead of complaining about your sudden clinginess, he rests his head on top of yours like second nature, allowing his childhood song to drown out some of the background chatters. 

You should really be clingy more often… though he’s not gonna risk his pearly white teeth by telling you that. 

five. 

Your school actually knows how to manage money in a smart way. Shocker, you know. 

You are thrown off upon hearing that no one needs to worry about the grizzly bears, or wolves (hey, one can never be too careful) because everyone gets to share a log cabin with a maximum of three other people. 

In fact, the camp counselors have confirmed that even though they’re throwing a bunch of inexperienced, dumb high schoolers smacked in the middle of the wilderness, there’s really nothing to do other than boring team-building exercises...and fishing. In other words, the only creature that can somewhat do harm to you is mosquitoes. 

It’s been pouring nonstop when your classmates tried to set up the campfire with coach Kim screaming into their eardrums last night, no wonder those little shit are thriving to make your life more miserable—they’re in their element, reproducing at a terrifying pace. 

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!” 

Hyunjin clutches a hand to his chest in both relief and terror after realizing the curled up figure sitting by the window is just you. He steps inside the cabin completely and flings his wet bangs away from his face, shoving the umbrella in his hand into a stand by the shoe rack. “You look like shit, are you okay?” he furrows his brows, slightly concerned about your eyebags and the way your lips crack from dehydration.

A soulless smile finds its way to your face. “I’m pretty sure ‘shit’ and ‘okay’ aren’t supposed to be in the same sentence but thank you for asking, I appreciate it.”

Here’s another downside to being a homebody: you can’t fucking sleep on any other beds that aren’t yours. And surprisingly that two-hour nap on the bus wasn’t enough to fuel you for the rest of the trip. But lucky you, it’s most likely going to keep raining cats and dogs and trash pandas for the rest of the day. Outdoor activities are no longer mandatory and you can almost hear your non-existent muscles crying in sheer joy. 

“Drink,” Hyunjin sighs at your pathetic state and decides to toss a water bottle in your direction. 

However, all you do is retrieve your limbs deeper into Felix’s fluffy blanket since he refused to use the grey one that’s draped over every bed beforehand. You’re far beyond grateful for that because those fading, questionable-looking stains just scare the crap out of you. And also because the fluffy blanket smells like him; you rest your case.

“You were knocked out for the entire bus ride, so why the hell can’t you fall asleep on a decent bed?” Shaking his head, Hyunjin plops himself onto Jisung’s bed like a potato, accidentally knocking over the neatly folded pile of clothes. He really doesn’t give two flying fucks about the fact that his friend spent an excessive ten minutes to organize his stuff so coach Kim won’t be barging into their cabin with a megaphone at five in the morning again. 

“She can only fall asleep on Felix, that’s why.” You roll your eyes in the bitchiest way possible, not bothering to chuck the abandoned water bottle at the unwanted guest of this terrific conversation. 

Hyunjin almost lets out a shriek when Seungmin jolts up from his bed, hair messy, a leg sticking out from his comforter. “You know, until this exact moment, I thought that you were dead or something.”

“What I’m trying to say is,” Seungmin elaborates as he bends over to reach for his glasses with squinted eyes. “There’s a 99,9% that Felix will make the first move but at the same time, it doesn’t mean the other 0,01% won’t happen so you,” he jabs his index finger towards you. “Better be doing something other than walking around camp like a zombie.”

Hyunjin tilts his head in confusion. “Since when was this even a thing?” You’re this close to have a permanent hand imprint on your forehead for facepalming every two seconds with your idiotic friends around. 

“Uhh, since forever?” Seungmin feels the need to voice out. “Listen, since the day Y/N spilled orange juice on Felix’s favorite shirt, the amount of times they’re forced to be together has risen tremendously. And when their parents found out their families live like ten minutes away from each other, they practically see each other every single day. Even outside of school. They tolerate each other, meaning the dynamic is long-lasting. Their bonding encouraged friendship.” 

“But we’re her friends too?”

A deep breath. “No, their friendship was incited to grow into something bigger, more profound because Felix has a special ‘click’ with Y/N that he doesn’t with us. God, Hyunjin, it’s been what, almost a decade! How could you not see it?” Seungmin says with expressive hands, almost yanking every strand of hair off of his head. It’s too early for this, his brain is about to implode. Hwang Hyunjin being dense just feels like a metaphoric chokehold to him. 

“Y/N,” Hyunjin simply ignores his frustrated friend to look over at you slipping into your sneakers. “You’re being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal.”

“That’s because she’s about to either shut the door in my face then find Felix or kick my ass and then find Felix,” Seungmin informs with a yawn, and this prompts you to muster a fake smile. 

Oh, I’m fucking livid. 

“You know me too well.”

He questions with heavy irony, “I’m sorry did you just agree with me?”

“Oh no, no, I take that back,” you brush him off. “Is Felix still outside fishing?”

“I think so?” Hyunjin replies while running a hand through his hair in mere distress; Felix’s competitiveness goes a little mayhem sometimes when it comes to Jisung being better than him at something since they’re so close. That’s one of the sole reasons why Felix always manages to maintain his flying GPA because Han Jisung procrastinates like no other but still tops his class every single semester. 

“I didn’t find him at the lake, though, wonder where he went.”

You widen your eyes, somewhat alarmed since it’s almost lunchtime, and Felix Lee never, and you mean never, ever let himself skip a meal. He always gets a nice nap after stuffing his face with enough good food too, so that’s a bonus. But that’s not the point, the point is: you’re starting to get a little worried because he’s been fishing all morning, wandering alone in the wilderness without a camp counselor. 

You’d better not find him sleeping with the fishes. 

six.

Maybe you were right, maybe Felix is a dumbass.

Because listening to his ego and coming back to the lake after breakfast was a horrendous idea. 

It’s such a pity how those weird-looking vehicles have stopped driving around camp the moment it started pouring outside. Heck, he didn’t even bring an umbrella after asking the coach to check today's forecast. 

So tragically, he’s now stuck underneath the canopy of a cafe ensuing coursing his way through the water blizzard and seeking refuge but can’t walk back to his cabin where his cabin-mates are probably having the time of their life drinking hot chocolate and nibbling on hand-picked fruits.

Felix exhales in torment while gazing outside, everything’s completely white-out thanks to droplets of raining streaking the horizon. Perhaps dashing back might be his one solitary option, but shivers soon run up his spine again, reminding him that he’s probably looking like a wet rat—his black Converse sodden, water seeping through the thin fabric of his uniform, numbing his skin. 

Ruffling his wet fringe, Felix’s hand fishes inside his pocket to look for his phone only to realize that it’s not there. “Shit...great..just great, today is my lucky day.” Even if the camp counselors didn’t confiscate all the electronic devices, there wouldn’t be any service in the middle of the woods either. Splendid. 

“Ugh, Y/N,” he groans under his breath. “Why did you let me do this?”

“Shit.”

 “AHH!”

Felix shrieks upon the tiny voice squeaking out from behind him. And he sighs in pure relief to see a little girl standing mere inches away, looking no more than a seven-year-old dressed in a yellow raincoat. “Hey kid,” he chuckles and crouches down to her eye level. “Where are your parents? You’re not supposed to be out here alone when it’s pouring like crazy.” 

And to his dismay, “Shit,” the little girl giggles, finding a new profound interest in the curse word that he accidentally spewed out seconds ago. 

“Shh shh,” Felix frantically places an index finger on his lips while darting his eyes around in terror—he might be sued if her parents found out how their daughter picked up a bad word from some random high schooler. Suddenly he feels bad for his future kids. “No, no, we can’t say that. It’s forbidden. What’s your name?”

“Mina,” she answers cutely and fiddles with the ends of her braids. “Who’s Y/N? Is she your girlfriend?”

Felix chokes on his own saliva. “...no, why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, my dad always calls my mom’s name when he messes things up.”

“What does that have to do with- oh, shit,” he facepalms himself. This kid is going to give him a cardiac arrest any second now. “It doesn’t matter if she’s my girlfriend or not, what matters is I need to get you back to your parents. Do you know where they are right now?”

Mina simply shakes her head with a pout. “Okay, let’s go find them then,” he can’t help but cracks a smile, ruffling her hair endearingly. Most kids would be bawling their eyes out by now knowing that they’ve strayed from their parents; she’s a tough one. 

Felix gently grabs Mina’s hand, biting down on his lower lip as he prays that a cold doesn’t catch up to him tomorrow and ready to dash out of the canopy that’s been keeping him dry for the last hour or two. But then a figure comes into view from afar, holding an umbrella while squinting their eyes through the thick streaks of rain. 

“Y/N..?” he mutters to himself in disbelief when you quickly skip underneath the canopy, collapsing the red umbrella in your hands. Felix recognizes that umbrella anywhere—isn’t that Hyunjin’s? Have you been looking for him? And for how long too?

“Didn’t even think about bringing an umbrella, smartass,” you say with a raised eyebrow. “Oh dear, who do we have here?” Before Felix can defend himself in vain with lame excuses, you’ve already taken your attention off him to stare at the unfamiliar presence. Your intense gaze scares Mina a little, causing the little girl to squeeze Felix’s hand, hiding behind his leg. 

Your friend laughs, patting her little head in reassurance. “Mina, this is Y/N, my classmate. Don’t let her intimidate you.”

“Are you really going to bother with this little one?” you scrunch your nose a bit. “We’re having pork rib soup, by the way, better hurry if you don’t want Han to hog your portion all to himself.”

Felix rolls his eyes at how utterly apathetic you are towards children. If you can get a perfect A in calc then why is it so hard to simply comprehend that every twelve-year-old needs to be returned to their hypothetical parents safely? “What part of ‘a common sense of morality’ can’t you understand?” 

“I don’t want to, actually, sounds like a lot of work,” you hum sarcastically. 

“Your girlfriend is scary,” Mina ensconces herself further behind your friend, officially detecting you as a threat rather than someone who will potentially bring her back to the cabin where her parents are probably flipping the whole place upside down in a panic—which is exactly what you’re planning to do. 

In your defense, you don’t detest kids in general. Only the bratty ones. And Mina is borderline bratty. 

“You know, I can spare her some time, Lost and Found is like..ten minutes away from here.”

“Y/N-” Felix wants to scream at you, rubbing the side of his temple in distress. Imagining you babysitting your neighbor’s newborn last summer with nine bucks per hour, ten hours per day, and five out of seven days per week is one of the few things that constantly keeps him from having a good night's sleep. It baffles him how you haven’t accidentally drowned the infant while giving her a bath. 

Mina gives the side of his jeans a tug, round eyes staring up at him expectantly. “Or we can get juice pops!” she exclaims happily and looks over to you, mustering her best puppy eyes. “Please? I don’t want to be alone..” 

“Twenty seconds ago, you called me scary and now you’re guilt-tripping me?” you crouch down to get a good look at the kid. Bright, innocent brown eyes, cute button nose, and a chipped front tooth—perhaps she’s a little too cute to not get her juice pops. 

Then, “And juice pops too? You evil mad mind genius,” you say after standing up to unfold Hyunjin’s umbrella, swinging it over the top of your head. “That’s extortion, kid, you’re too young for that.”

Felix breaks into a fit of giggles upon seeing you failing at trying to keep a straight face and steps in beside you under the umbrella. His next problem just pops up right then and there—Mina can’t squeeze in considering the umbrella that Hyunjin gave you is solely used for one person. 

“Mina, hop on here,” he decides to get on his knees, permitting the little girl to clumsily climb on his back and eventually plopping herself onto his shoulders. 

“Oh, oh, oh, can you two hold hands?” Mina suggests with a shit-eating grin on her face. This causes Felix’s cheeks to burn with a bright shade of red while you’re too busy throwing daggers at her with your eyes to notice. “My family does this all the time, my dad would carry me on his shoulders and my mom would hold his hand as we walk home after going to the park.”

You and Felix yell simultaneously, “We’re not your parents!!” But that doesn’t seem to scare the little girl. You’re both just encouraging her. 

“Yip yip, horsey, don’t be disobedient now,” she giggles to herself and pulls at a solid patch of Felix’s hair, making you cringe because his hair and scalp have already had enough from his questionable obsession with bright hair colors. 

“Ow! Mina! Stop it! Ow!”

“Okay quit torturing my friend,” you tell her and decide to slip your hand in with Felix’s, intertwining your fingers to secure the grip before showing it to Mina so that she’ll stop before any blood is drawn. “There, we’re holding hands just like your mommy and daddy, you happy?” 

Felix doesn’t say anything even when Mina nods happily, releasing her monstrous grip off his poor scalp. He only lets you tug him away from the canopy of the cafe as he gazes downward, eyes glued to how your hand fits into his perfectly. The sound of rain tapping against the umbrella suddenly bugs him, suffocating him in a way. In other words, it’s really unnatural to think this way about his best friend but he doesn't want you to let go at all. 

Everything seems to move faster when you’re holding onto his hand so certainly. Felix thinks you’re fully aware but try to fight off the voices that are taunting you to just drop it. And truth is, you can care less because your head is now far too fuzzy to focus on anything but the road ahead. 

You pray he doesn’t feel the pounding rhythm from your veins. If your red ears haven’t given it away already. 

seven.

Jisung has weird friends, that’s a fact. And no, you’re not talking about the gang that saved his ass every time he got into trouble aka you plus JeongMinLixJin. You’re talking about those kids from Class 2C that are mutual friends with Changbin.

Because the moment Jisung barges into the cabin and starts babbling nonsense that you can’t comprehend (not that you can comprehend any of his shit on the daily), you know that he just came back from a get together with those sketchy dudes who managed to sneak some booze inside a shampoo bottle.

“Uhm okay, who gave Felix alcohol?” he squints his eyes hard. 

You are more than aware that Jisung is mildly smashed by the way that his cheeks are tinted with a light shade of coral, hiccupping every ten seconds and slightly more clumsy with his feet. He almost tripped over the rug at the front door if it weren’t for Hyunjin who caught him in time so that he wouldn’t break one of his precious teeth. Those painful years of constantly slurping on watery porridge after every dentist appointment to tighten his braces shouldn’t be going down the drain. 

Speaking of bland rice water, that’s all Felix has been fed with after returning to camp because he has no choice. The sickness finally caught up to him as a result of staying outside for too long while still dressed in his rain-soaked uniform. Even under the cotton comforter, he’s radiating heat on the outside but stoically shivering on the inside, his energy level is as diminished as his appetite. 

The nurse said there’s really nothing that can be done but give him some pills and let him ride it out so now Felix’s all curled up in a corner of his bed, cheeks burning flush of fever, coughing and sneezing occasionally. He refuses to be moved to a completely separate cabin because sleeping alone in a confined place knowing that the grizzly bears might be roaming outside your door is quite frightening for a junior in high school. 

“God, what makes you think I’m the batshit drunk one here?” Felix croaks, his voice more hoarse and gruff than usual because every word pains him, his vocal cords pulse in agony at each syllable. And that sentence was probably the longest thing you’ve heard from him since dinner. 

Jisung lets Hyunjin toss him onto his bed, face down, and props himself up on his forearms. “Uhh, have you checked yourself the mirror?” he hiccups, words a bit slurred, palms outstretched in a grabby motion. “Seungmin, water- ow! What the fuck was that!?” 

He rubs the side of his head while babbling incoherently like a fucking five-year-old because Seungmin decided to chuck a water bottle at him. Those years of playing baseball during retreats indeed paid off. 

“I went for the head,” Seungmin looks up from his book calmly, acting innocent. 

Jisung whines and turns to his side, watching as the water bottle rolls back towards him after coming in contact with the wall. “God, I miss Minho. You guys suck,” he takes it before sitting right up but flops himself back down when a pang of pain claws at his temple. Who even allowed him to drink?

“Didn’t he make your high school experience miserable?” Hyunjin laughs, sitting down on the corner of his bed, legs curled into his chest. 

“Hello? That was me,” Seungmin clarifies, he sounds a little offended. “He called me a nerd for studying late at the library for our finals! Our fucking finals! Do you know how insecure my freshman self was? I was so hurt!” 

You cross your arms and mumble, “He’s the same guy who treated you ice-cream after finding out you got a B in physics.”

Hyunjin hums, butting into the topic, “And he made me do fifty push-ups because I unintentionally skipped a day at practice. Our Dance Club really didn’t need a president who effortlessly snatches the Asshole of the Year Award like he’s stealing candies from a kid.”

“Please, you’re practically buddies now,” you scoff. “You always play Mario Kart and rewatch the Avatar series with him, even during midterms!”

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Jisung suddenly gets on his feet, jumping up and down like a maniac. You’re highly concerned for the bed by the creaking sound that it’s making—sounds just like something straight out of a horror film. “He almost threw a knife at me!”

You’re running out of excuses to defend your stupid brother at this rate. What’s the point in trying anyway? “Han, it was a plastic knife, chill.”

Jisung crawls off his bed to approach you, pinching his thumb and index finger together before shoving them to your face. “I was this close to dying! You try having someone threaten to throw a knife at you during lunch break,” he complains like it’s the end of the world. Truth is, you’ve seen (and experienced) worse things. 

“Minho’s still my brother.”

Staring at you, Jisung looks unimpressed. “He wanted to kill me because I commented on his puffy cheeks that day.”

“He’s adopted.”

The conversation is pulled to a halt right there when Felix does a full-body groan, his head spinning and sweats starting to collect at his hairline. With his mind buzzed like he’s floating, the bickering only adds to the pressure that’s squeezing each of his functioning brain cells. In other words, it feels as though Han Jisung is a fucking hamster going on a marathon across his body, nibbling on his limbs and ears as he’s going through a hangover, his immune system going on a rampage. 

Felix doesn’t even drink. 

“That’s my call for a bedtime story.” You glare at Jisung when he clears his throat while you’re attempting to tuck Felix into bed, pressing your palm against his forehead to check his temperature. It’s not climbing anymore, he should be okay after sweating everything out. 

Hyunjin pulls his friend back onto his bed, locking his limbs in tight before he waddles around and potentially breaks one of those decorative pieces on the bookshelf. “Not to burst your ego, but I don’t think you’re sober enough to give us a good story,” he says unapologetically. 

“Puh-lease,” Jisung lets out the weirdest chuckle at that, wagging his forearm like those Japanese ceramic cat figures that are supposed to bring people good fortune; and Han Jisung is notorious for bringing people anything but good fortune. “They didn’t even have vodka, only Strongbow. That shit is too weak for me.”

You snort involuntarily, “Actually, I think you meant you’re too weak for those bottles of cider.”

“Wow, Y/N, what a snake.”

eight.

The bonfire crackles, flaring up to life when coach Kim tosses a lit matchstick into the pyramid pile of branches and woods. The flame projects long shadows of the trees all round along, swirling and curling in obscure shapes with the high schoolers that each hugs their own cup of hot cocoa, chomping on their marshmallows of choice. 

Glowing embers beneath are colored by the inferno that seems to be moving with the rhythm and melody of the song that they’re all singing along, drumming their feet and bobbing their heads simultaneously. 

“Are you guys sure you don’t want to join them?” Felix says apologetically after sneezing into a piece of tissue, his nose all red and swollen. “I can just… I don’t know, read a book or something.”

When he refers to those oddly colorful and rather bulky-looking books on the shelves, Seungmin immediately stops putting a cookie inside his mouth midway. “Those are called ‘aesthetically useless interior decoration’, Lix. Good luck trying to open those plastic blocks,” he expresses with his hands after stuffing the cookie into his mouth, chewing rather aggressively. 

Felix feels quite bad because, for all he knows, Hyunjin and Seungmin have been planning on going kayaking today and trying out volleyball tomorrow. You’re all going home in two days yet they’ve done nothing but pigging out in pure distress. “Still, it’s a summer camp, you all should be out there having fun, not stuck inside to look after me while tolerating...that,” he quietly looks over at Jisung who just exited the bathroom after splashing his face with some water. 

At least he doesn’t look crazy and homeless now. 

“How are they doing that again?” you join Hyunjin as he rests his head lazily on his forearms, staring outside from the cabin’s window like Rapunzel in an alternative universe where Flynn Rider managed to escape the tower with the crown, leaving her behind longing for civil human interactions in vain. 

“They sing..” he drawls. “And turn their heads to look at each other in the eye.”

You wave it off absentmindedly, falling on your back so now your head is hung upside down from the bed, your arms dangling midair. “Well, that sounds exhausting,” you mumble, ignoring the way that Seungmin is internally judging you. 

Hyunjin sighs, “Never one for sentiment, are you?”

“Easier to let it burn,” you answer flatly, sitting upright when blood starts rushing to your head. 

“Don’t feel bad,” Seungmin immediately forces a smile at Felix. “We’re not really into sitting with a bunch of idiots just to enjoy a mildly decent hot cocoa either way.”

Suddenly the lights go out, and Felix immediately curls himself further into the blanket, a little thrown off. Jisung’s face comes into view out of nowhere when he makes a grab for the oil lamp that no one seems to take notice of, lighting it up with a single match. “C’mon, kids, no bonfire is complete without a good ghost story,” he crosses his legs on the floor happily, still somewhat tipsy so his body is bouncing in excitement with occasional hiccups. 

Hyunjin and Seungmin exchange questionable looks before scrambling to the floor, settling themselves a few solid inches in front of the oil lamp with a sigh while you only shrug at Felix, propping your head onto your hands. Laziness is starting to hold you hostage on Hyunjin’s bed at this rate. 

Seungmin spares Jisung a slight glare, “Better not bullshit us with the same one that you heard at school-”

“No,” Jisung’s lips morph into something similar to a smirk, he looks concerningly confident for someone who’s utterly terrified after watching IT. And now he’s attempting to give his bros who are equally jumpy about everything and anything, you’re excited to see how this goes. “I heard this one from a camp counselor, true story.” You definitely don’t like the sound of that.

At first, the ghost was no more than a chill in the air, a shimmer of mist to the common eyes. Through the heavy rain and fog that seeps through people’s skin, chilling the core of their bones, it slowly came into focus. It wasn’t until the camper found refuge under a canopy of an abandoned café that it congealed into a form—a small child with brilliant round eyes, dressed in white clothing. 

For a moment, all was silent and still. It was as though the camper got hypnotized, feet planted to the ground. Then, he could hear a small lullaby in a cheerful voice. 

“Oranges and Lemons say the bells of St.Clements…” They know how that one ended. 

Suddenly someone blows out the candle, but Jisung’s voice still rings in your eardrums. “When the camper took a step back, the ghost spoke again, this time with the voice almost of a smoker and grin…” You can feel Hyunjin hop back to bed with you in a tick of a clock, holding onto you for dear life with the infrequent whimpers of fear. 

Jisung proceeds to continue, “The grin soon became a snarl, baring teeth like a wolf when it finished the lullaby…”

A muffled silence descends. And, “Have you come to play…?”

“AHHH!!” Felix lets out a petrified shriek, but what confuses you is the sound of Jisung grunting rather in pain. Seungmin sighs in disapproval, flickering the lights on while leaning back against the wall. 

And now before your eyes is a slightly traumatized, feverish Felix with clattering teeth, quivering inside his blanket. Whereas, Jisung is sprawled across the floor, hugging his poor stomach, hacking up lungs. Deserve.

“This is why you don’t give people who can high-kick jump scares, dumbass,” Seungmin comments and crouches down in front of Jisung like his knight in shiny armors, letting a bottle of ointment dangle between his fingers. “Put this on, bet it’s already bruising.”

Hyunjin releases his arms around you and walks towards the freckled boy who looks like he’s about to slip into a coma. “Lix, are you okay?” he knits his brows together, starting to feel somewhat concerned. 

Felix only waves it off with a raspy laugh, standing on wobbly legs with his blanket still wrapped around his figure. “I’m fine, I’ll just go wash my face.” Truth is, he’s anything but fine. And it doesn’t help when he accidentally has a glance of his own reflection in the body-length mirror from across the cabin—his hair is sticking to his forehead, his face is slightly more puffy than usual, and his eyebags look like he hasn’t slept in decades—he looks worse than a trash can, basically. 

“Hyunjin,” you raise a brow at your friend’s current state.

“What?”

“Catch him.”

“Huh-” Hyunjin snaps his head back when a loud thud is heard, eyes growing twice as big in sheer panic upon the sight of Felix laying on his stomach, mere inches away from his feet. “Felix!!” Your friends rush to his side while you’re too busy checking the thermometer by his nightstand. The temperature doesn’t seem to be too alarming, he should be fine after sleeping and sweating it out. But really, Felix looks more like he’s having the nap of a lifetime rather than passing out from the worst fever of the century. That doesn’t stop everyone from freaking out, unfortunately. 

Also, everyone can agree that this is the first and last storytime to ever happen.

nine.

Felix sits on the beach, eyes moving from sand to stone, from rock pools to breaking waves. He lets out a sigh, an exhale of relief when a breeze passes by him, tousling his hair as he buries his feet deeper into the primrose-colored grains. The briny aroma that exists in every fiber of air makes him feel at ease, as though unknotting all his angsty-teenager worries with grace. He feels a bit better, partially because his fever has already gone down when he shook you out of your half-asleep state at four in the morning. 

“Why?” you ask without turning your head after sensing his tense posture.

Felix looks confused, a little startled when you break the silence. “Why what?”

“Why the long face?” you unknowingly exhale too, stubbornly gazing forward. “Thinking about something?” For some reason, you’re too...scared to even spare him a small glance. This isn’t you, did his fever rub off on you or something?

To your dismay, his sudden inquiry catches you off guard. “High school is going to be over in a year, have you thought about what to do?” 

You open your mouth to protest with something along the line of he’s overthinking again and there’s still an entire year ahead to make new memories but when you’re about to utter the first word, your mouth automatically snaps itself close. It’s like you have an entire masterpiece planned out in your mind but when someone tosses you a blank canvas, you’re standing there in defeat like the biggest idiot. Felix is serious this time, you know it’s not because he’s lightheaded after riding out the fever. 

“Honestly?” you breathe out. “No, I haven’t. God, I don’t even want to think about it, the future scares me a little.”

Upon the mossed rock and vibrant horizon, comes the sun rays that are promised by the starlit sky. It makes you both a little breathless, not exchanging a single word nor moving a muscle for a while. 

Until, “Fine, it scares me a whole lot,” you confess, gaze cast downward as you hug your legs closer to your chest. “It sucks because everyone seems to have their lives together, Jisung is finally taking his interest in music seriously, Hyunjin is planning on being an actual theater kid, and Seungmin is...I don’t know, but he’s definitely onto something. Point is, everyone is already one too many steps ahead of me, I’m just..here, stuck. And I don’t feel like I have-”

“A lot of time left.” Felix finishes your sentence, prompting you to look at him this time. His delicate features shine under the cracking lights of dawn, starry eyes twinkling and lips outstretched into the smile that you absolutely adore. He has such a contagious type of smile that it makes you feel a little less dead inside whenever you see it. But your heartbeat also grows a little more ecstatic. 

A hearty chuckle. “You’re not alone, you know,” he says while not breaking away from the eye contact, this makes your throat grow dry. “I still have so much to do, so much to...say yet too little time. So yeah, don’t think about it too much, I’m never gonna leave you behind no matter what.”

You have to hold back a playful scoff at that; and to think he was the one who brought up this sappy topic. “If anything, you’re the overthinker in this relationship,” you tell him with a nudge on his rib. “But if you’ve already had my back, then you should know that I’ll always have yours too.”

Because what would you do without an overthinker like Felix? Drowning your sorrow by stress-eating in the middle of the night? Bottoming out on questionable drinks to end up like Han Jisung? Winging every single important choice that can potentially flip your life upside down in either a good or bad way? Not in a million years. He knows that you need him as much as he needs you, harsh truth but you still hate it either way.

You both don’t look forward to the future, like at all. 

You’re too apathetic and overall just a big ‘meh’ about it. You’re the type of person that goes with the flow, letting life toss you around like a ragdoll until you finally snap at some point to fight back because you know where the line between giving up and knowing that you’ve had enough is. Meanwhile, Felix is rather anxious about things. If a piece of paper with a pencil can draw out the map of his entire destiny ahead then he’ll have it finished in one night. But he’s grown out of his middle school self to know that things don’t always go as planned.

Guess if things turn out to be shit, you’ll still have him.

“Does that mean if we’re still single in our thirties, you’ll marry me like how our parents always joke about?” Felix cracks a shit-eating grin this time, one that makes your heart swell but for the most part, you wanna whack him unconscious with a pillow. 

You sneer in return, “Sure, but you’ll have to fall for me first.”

There’s a pang in Felix’s chest, it’s so loud and evident that he’s afraid you might hear it. You really didn’t have to slap him in the face with that seemingly harmless statement. “Hmm, who would even fall for a stubborn hermit crab like you?” he jokes to hide the nervousness that’s crawling upon his spine. His ears are probably bright red right now. “Although...that wouldn’t be a problem with me.” Because he’s already fallen for you, a little too hard actually.

“What does that even mean?” you only hum after questioning his statement, nothing makes sense right now since you’re getting a little sleepy because a certain someone wanted to watch the sunrise which simply lasted for about two minutes after two(ish) hours of waiting.

“I don’t know,” Felix laughs before standing up, dusting the sand off of his jeans. “You go figure it out, smartass.” With that, he runs off with his Converses dangling between his fingers, leaving you dumbfounded in the middle of the beach like a total dimwit. Slowly, within those five seconds of making eye contact with your best friend again, his words zero in on you like a wakeup call. 

Urgently grabbing your sneakers, you chase after him. “Hey- wait! GET BACK HERE!” By looks of it, you’ve probably figured it out now. It’s not like he’s trying to be subtle either.

Felix feels like he just gained strength from spewing out that indirect confession, and it gives him a tiny ray of hope that he still has his entire youth before his eyes to tell you how he really feels. Or his whole life if you don’t start resenting him for crossing the line that no one dares talk about when they have a thing for their best friend. 

Either way, as long as Felix sees your presence side by side with him at every ups and downs, he’s home. 

[lemonandhugs]

Stars Align: Chapter 1

Chapter 1

CPOV

Cait was already a basket-case of nerves, but arriving at the studio in LA, 23 minutes late, just made her even more so.  

“Fucking LA traffic…” she uttered to herself, as she quickly scrambled to get her purse and phone in one hand and open the car door with the other.

‘Fuck…I’m so late. I’ll be lucky if they even still agree to let me do this screen-test! Plus, what a great way to create a first impression…’ she thought to herself, with panicked sarcasm. ‘I don’t think this tartan dress will be enough to make up for it…’

She arrived at the door of the studio. Before knocking, she closed her eyes, took a long, deep breath, and waited until her heart slowed.

She put her shaky hand up to the door and knocked three times.

“Yeah, come in.” was the answer of what sounded like an older man.

Upon entering, this man stood up and walked towards her, a small smile on his lips. He had shoulder-length, grey hair, and a sensible, serious look about his face.

“Hello, Caitriona Balfe?” he held out his hand to her.

“Hi, yes. I’m so sorry I’m late!” she said as she fumbled to get a free hand to shake his.

“That’s alright. Traffic? You’ll get used to it. Ron Moore, good to meet you.”

Cait giggled nervously, “nice to meet you.”

She felt more at ease and could finally breathe a little slower.

“Alright, well that’s Sam Heughan in there. He’ll be playing the part of Jamie Fraser. You’ll be doing a screen-test with him today. We’re going to see what sort of chemistry you two have together. I’ll let you introduce yourselves, if you just want to leave your stuff here and step in,” Ron directed with his arm.

Cait peered into the screen-test room, through the rectangle, glass cut-out in the door, before entering. The man she saw quickened her previously calm pulse. A man with a strong jawline, finely-toned muscle definition visible in his arms, a head of chestnut-coloured hair, which slightly curled behind each ear. He was fiddling with his watch, bent over in the chair, with his elbows resting on his knees.

Cait turned the handle, opened the door and took a step. Little did she know there was a slight elevation in the door frame. She tripped quite suddenly, luckily with one hand still holding onto the door handle.

‘Fuck!’ she thought to herself, squeezing her eyes together, feeling her face flush.

It happened within a blink of an eye, but as she regained her balance and stood up straight, this man, Sam, was less than five feet away, coming toward her. The size of this man took her by surprise. She herself was tall, 5”9, but this man towered, at least, another half a head over her. Strongly built body, with a kind face.

“Oh, you alright?” he said, with concern in his English-Scottish accented voice.

Cait giggled nervously and straightened her dress. “I’m fine, thank you. I’m Caitriona Balfe. I’m sorry I’m so late, I hope I haven’t kept you waiting long,” she said, shakily putting her hand out to him.

“Oh no don’t worry about it. I was late too, took me long enough to get here. The traffic is insane, twenty-four hours a day. Sam Heughan. Nice to meet you Caitriona,” he said sweetly, with a smile that touched his eyes. He gently shook her hand, his hand warm and large.

The second thing Cait noticed was this man’s eyes. Such a light shade of blue that stood out against his slightly sun-kissed skin.

‘His eyes…and so tall…quite handsome…and sweet too.’ Caitriona thought to herself, as she smiled back at him, shaking his hand. This man she had known for ten seconds had already put her at ease.  

“Great dress, very fitting,” Sam giggled, looking from the top to bottom, before turning around.

“Thank you, I thought it would make a good impression,” Cait smiled, looking down at it also.

Sam turned around and let out a little laugh and nodded.

Cait walked over to where Sam was, in line with the camera. She looked at the camera lens and saw Ron talking to a few other members of the crew.

“How are you feeling? Are you nervous?” Sam asked, turning towards her.

“A little,” Cait said, slightly biting her lip and peering up at him.

“Ah, I’m sure you’ll do fine. I’ll try and help you through it,” he said, with a small grin, giving her back a soft pat.

“Thank you,” she replied, with a small smile.

******

The screen test was only seven minutes long; a short but very passionate scene.

Sam softly pat her on the back again and let his arm fall around her, holding onto her upper arm, enveloping her with his large form. She reciprocated by slipping her arm around his waist; a subtle confirmation that she was comfortable. He then moved his hand from on top of her arm, to underneath her arm, so that he was touching her side. This gave her a pleasurable sort of ache in her stomach and chest. A feeling that shocked her; it was so sudden. It was slightly awkward, having to stand there with the camera still rolling, being put under that pressure to be comfortable. Especially since they had just met and had no time to talk prior. Cait gained enough confidence to slightly and briefly lean her head against his neck.

His body was very firm, and very warm against hers. She could feel the strong lines in his back, waist and arms. She noticed that he had big, armpit sweat patches. It didn’t bother her though, because his smell was intoxicating. She couldn’t figure out whether it was his skin or his clothes.

“I lost my ring, during that, as well”, Sam giggled, pulling Cait from her fantasy.

Cait glanced up at him, not being able to hide the fact that her smile fell, then she looked down and furrowed her eyebrows slightly. She tried to play it off as if she didn’t hear him or didn’t understand what he meant.

‘Ring. His ring. His ring fell off, during our steamy, passionate, and quite physical, chemistry test. Married? Most likely, look at him. Why wouldn’t he be. Well��plenty more fish in the sea. Him telling me that, right after I leant my head against his neck, was obviously his way of saying “okay, too much”. Right, you are going to let this slip right off. It doesn’t bother you, why would it…? You’ve known this man for 5 seconds, damnit.’

She nervously peered up at him again, and saw that he was no longer smiling, but had a tiny frown; he was questioning her.

‘Oh fuck!’

“Oh…oh! Did you?!” Cait forced herself to laugh, looking down behind them, trying to make it believable.

This seemed to have recovered things. Sam laughed and replied, “yeah it went under the chair!”

Cait continued to laugh. Then they both fell silent, looking at the camera.

“Well done,” Sam smiled down at her, giving her another soft pat on the back.

“Thank you very much,” Cait grinned, blushing slightly. She briefly looked at the floor, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry for putting you in a bear hug,” Sam giggled nervously, then bit his lip.

“Oh, that’s absolutely fine. I’m sorry for punching you in the face,” Cait peered up at him, laughing.

Sam laughed with her, “my fault. No, it was good”.

“That was pretty terrific…” Ron said, with raised eyebrows.

“Awesome, thank you very much,” Cait said, with a modest smile touching her lips.

“You should hear from us within a few days. Thanks for coming out,” Ron nodded, with a smile.

“Okay, no worries,” Cait replied, breaking away from Sam’s body, instantly feeling the difference, away from his body heat.

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Sam”, Cait smiled up at him.

“Yeah, it was nice meeting you too, and good luck”, Sam replied, winking at her and smiling.

Cait quickly looked away, ‘don’t wink at me when you’re married.’

Then she nodded, “we’ll soon find out if I was good enough”.

Cait walked towards the door and said, “see you, and thanks”.

Sam was sitting back down on the chair, putting his watch back on. “Bye, see you later,” he smiled sweetly at her.

“Thanks so much, Ron”, Cait said, picking up her things and smiling.

“No worries Caitriona. Great work, see you later,” Ron smiled.

Cait walked towards the studio exit, then briefly looked back at Sam, who was still sitting in the chair. He suddenly looked up and met her eyes, through the glass, and she quickly whipped her head back and went through the door. On the other side of the door, Cait let out a huge breath of air, one that felt like it had been held in for hours. She leant her back against the door and closed her eyes.

 SPOV

Hearing the door open and a slight thud, Sam broke from his daydream. He looked up just in time to see a long-legged, brunette leaning over, mid-fall. He sprung to his feet and walked over to help her. When she regained herself and stood up straight, Sam was able to take her all in, and it startled him.

‘Flawless, fair skin…she’s tall…the most sparkling blue-grey eyes... Legs for days, too. This woman is beautiful, no denying.’ Sam thought to himself as he swallowed, trying not to stare.

Sam smiled at her, and shook her hand, trying to be as gentle as he could; she was tall, but also very petite.

Her hand was cold and clammy. ‘Poor thing is obviously nervous. Such a great smile. It lights up her whole face. Now I’m nervous. An Irish lass, with a Scot dress. It’s a fine dress. Well now comment on the dress! Don’t just look her up and down like that, you’ve just met her! Great first impression…stop biting your lip, she might take it the wrong way!’

******

‘My god…she’s got so much talent! If Ron doesn’t pick her, he’s an imbecile. Why the fuck did I put her in a bear hug though…got lost in the scene, I guess. I think it pissed her off when I restricted her like that…or was she acting? Shit. She gave me as much as I gave her. She wasn’t afraid to be so physical. She gave this scene her all.’

Sam briefly touched her back, to give her reassurance, and gently put his arm around her, testing the waters. He felt a boost of confidence after that very physical scene. Perhaps it would be alright to innocently touch her.

‘Well she’s okay with my arm, otherwise she wouldn’t have immediately reciprocated. It feels good…she’s moving her thumb…don’t bite your lip. Oh no I’ve put my sweaty hand on her skin…I hope she doesn’t mind me putting my hand underneath her arm…Wait did she just…did she just move her head into my neck? She did. I guess she’s quite comfortable. Don’t smirk. What…oh no, fucking ginormous sweat patch! Oh god please don’t notice. Need a diversion, quick…I’ll tell her how my ring fell off!’

******

‘Hmm, did she not hear me when I told her my ring fell off? Did she find it weird, me telling her that? She looks annoyed…or confused?’

******

‘Okay she obviously just didn’t hear me. This is good, she feels comfortable enough to joke right back with me. She makes me a bit nervous, but at the same time, she’s very easy to talk to. This could be good if Ron picks her…’

*****

Sam was getting out of the shower when he saw Ron’s name light up his phone.

“Hi Ron, how are you?” Sam asked politely.

“Hey Sam, good. Listen, so we’ve gone with Caitriona for Claire’s part. Now obviously you two are going to be working closely together for a good three years, if all goes well, so I’m going to email through her number and email, in case you’d like to meet up before we begin shooting. You both have perming appointments in London in a few days, all good?” Ron explained.

Sam’s eyes lit up upon hearing that Ron did indeed pick Caitriona. It’s what he’d been hoping for. He hasn’t been able to stop himself from thinking about her, since the chemistry test, two days ago. It was strange. He was both nervous and excited to see her again. His heart picked up the pace a little.

“Oh yeah, that’s great! Yes, it’d be nice for us to get to know each other better before we go to Scotland,” Sam replied happily.

“Yeah. Alright I’ll send that through. I’ll talk to you soon. Thanks Sam,” Ron said.

“Alright Ron, thanks,” Sam replied, then hung up and plugged in his phone.

Still with a towel around his waist, he sat on his couch, leant over to his coffee table where his MacBook was sitting and opened his email. The little beep felt like it took forever. As eager as he was to race to his phone and enter her number in, he thought better of it, and took a few things into consideration.

‘Wait. First, Ron would’ve only just gotten off the phone with her to tell her the news…I don’t want to pounce on her like some needy sod. Secondly, and more importantly, she could be fucking married! Or at least involved…Way to jump the gun there Heughan…I don’t recall any rings…although I didn’t look. Alright. I have a good excuse to spend time with her, should she allow it. It’s important for the show that the characters’ chemistry remain top-notch, even though we seem to already possess that natural chemistry together…Ach! I’ll wait until tomorrow and see what she says. Getting to know each other involves learning about each other’s life. I’m sure a husband, boyfriend, or even a child would be mentioned straight up…’

Sam let out a loud sigh and cracked his knuckles. “Patience,” he said to himself, as a reminder.

 CPOV

The next day, Cait was busy running around her LA apartment, packing up furniture, for the impending adventure in Scotland, in a couple of short weeks. She would be living in Glasgow for the next 12 months or so, once getting to Scotland. She had to be in London the next day, to get her hair permed. She was quite preoccupied with organising her handbag when she heard the muffled sound of her phone ringing. She buried underneath the pile of clothes on her bed and grabbed her phone. The incoming call was a number she didn’t recognise. She was about to hang up, but her instincts told her to answer, and so she did.

“Hello?” Cait answered.

“Hi Caitriona. It’s Sam Heughan. Congratulations on getting the job!” Sam replied shyly.

It felt like her heart had stopped, jumped up into her throat and got stuck. Then she couldn’t help but grin like an idiot.

‘Okay, breathe. Don’t sound like an absolute moron!’

“Oh, hi! Thank you so much. How are you?” Cait managed to say.

“I’m good, I’m good. How are you?” Sam replied happily.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Nervous and excited for what’s ahead. I’ve never done anything like this before,” Cait replied, biting her lip, and stroking her forehead.

“An all-new experience for you. Don’t worry, it’ll be good. Erm, anyway, so I just…you know I just…was wondering…erm, since you and I will be working together for a large amount of time, would you like to just spend a day getting to know each other? I think it’ll make, erm, the transition easier, going from total strangers to working closely together every day. If, if you’d like, erm,” Sam suggested nervously.

Cait moved her face away from the phone. She couldn’t help but giggle at the fact that he was so obviously terrified.

‘Is this a good idea though? I mean…he’s right, it would be good for work. It would be very hard working so closely with someone I know basically nothing about. Okay.’

“Yeah, that would be good. Ron told me you’re also going to get your hair destroyed tomorrow in London,” Cait giggled.

Sam laughed softly, “yes, unfortunately has to be done. That’s why I thought tomorrow would be a good opportunity.”

“Yeah, definitely. We would have the same flight too?” Cait asked.

“Erm…11:20am?” Sam asked.

“Yep, that’s mine. Alright, well I’ll see you at the airport in the morning, say 10:30?” Cait said.

“Yeah, I’ll see you then! It’ll be good. Okay, see you later Caitriona!” Sam said happily.

“Bye Sam,” Cait replied. Then she hung up and exhaled slowly.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33179176/chapters/82373746

[angelofthebau]

polaroids

Spencer Reid x Reader

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and each word began with you.

Warnings: None! [wow, a clean Marley? who is she?] Category: just pure fluffy fluffers Word Count: 1169 Marley’s Note: god it felt weird writing fall instead of autumn, i’m english and i’m crying about american words ok i’m sorry Tracks I Wrote To: A beautiful 8-hour long video on Youtube of rain sounds and ambient coffee shop jazz that i totally haven’t listened to all day

     There was a reason that film-makers loved orange and teal. Everything seemed to come alive within the lens of a camera, objects and surroundings complimenting each other with a familiar ease, like old friends meeting for the first time in years.      You raised the camera to your eye, squeezing the button slowly. The camera gradually rolled out an image, and you wafted it lightly in the air, a smile creeping onto your face as you waited for the moment to take shape on the small film. The beauty of the fall leaves, hanging on for dear life on the tree branches, almost waving to the clear soft sky, the sun icing the tree with a golden glint.       It was your favourite time of year. Life seemed so beautiful in the fall and you captured it every year on your polaroid, always returning to the same park. Sometimes you’d take photos of passers-by, making sure to show them the photo afterwards and ask them if it was okay for you to keep. They’d always said yes - some even gave their emails and begged for a copy.      The sky had run it’s course of camera time. You trailed your eyes around the park, wondering what else to capture, when your eyes settled on a lone man. He was young, maybe late twenties, sat on a bench with a book open on his lap. His elbow rested on the bench rest with his hand holding his chin and his right leg crossed over the left. His glasses covered his brows, but you could just about see the small scrunch of skin above the frames, the hinting sign of his concentration for the paper world he seemed lost in. He seemed to compliment the park so elegantly - a red jumper that pushed him out from the orange leaves, mousy curls that shone a few shades lighter than the bark of the trees, and straight grey pants that juxtaposed the light oak bench. A spark of personality shone through in the way he sat - two brightly-coloured, mismatched socks peeked through.       You took the photo.      It was your favourite one that you’d taken today, probably the best photo you’d taken in a while. You gave away a soft little grin, and made your way over to the man. He seemed a little taken aback when you appeared in front of him, pushing his glasses a little closer to his eyes as he raised his head to look at you.      “Hi, my name is Y/N...I take photos as a hobby. I took this one of you, do you mind if I keep it? It’s just for a personal portfolio, I promise,” You spoke, your voice delicate and almost shy. His hand stretched out to take the photo from you gently, studying it for a moment with an unreadable expression.      “This is really good,” He said, breaking into a smile. You stared at his smile, toothy and bright. Warm. So warm.        You realised you were staring at him.       “Thank you, I can give you a copy if you want,” You recovered, sitting down next to him and pulling out your phone. “Type in your email,”        He nodded and you watched his thumbs tap away on the screen.        “I only have an email for work,” He mumbled, passing the phone back to you.        “That’s okay...” You paused to read the name. “Spencer,”         He grinned again, a little softer this time. He liked the way you said his name.         “I love your hat,” He pointed towards the brown wide-rimmed hat on your head, and you chuckled. He liked the way you laughed, too.         “Thank you!”        You were both silent for a moment. You took the time to glance over at what he was reading.        “The Narrative of John Smith? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read that. It never gets old,” You smiled, studying the cover. His face broke into pure joy and he completely turned his body towards you.       You talked about the book for a while, finding out it was one of his favourites that he’d read so many times. He said he had an eidetic memory, so he could remember it word by word. You’d asked him if that ever became boring - if he could reread books with a pristine memory and still become swept away in the story. Somehow, he could.       “I think I’m going to take a walk for some coffee. Do you want to join me?” You asked, feeling a little coy and awkward, but he stood up almost immediately and gestured for you to lead the way.      “I can never say no to coffee,” He laughed, and you began walking out of the park, Spencer at your side, the conversation flowing freely between you both.      You both grabbed coffee to go at a nearby Starbucks and headed back to the park so that you could take more photos. The way he struggled to hold the coffee and keep the book under his arm at the same time made you giggle, and you took the book from his grasp, your fingers trailing against his hand softly as you pulled the novel away from him.      “Don’t worry, I’m just going to keep it safe in my bag,”       At some point along the way back to the park, your free hand had clasped his gently, and then your fingers had intertwined, holding onto each other tentatively. You saw him glance down at your interlocked palms a couple of times with a sweet smile pulling at his lips.       “I’m going to take more photos,” You began as you found your way back to the bench, stopping slowly and facing each other, your hands still joined together. “Will you spend the rest of the day with me?” You felt a little stupid as soon as you asked, embarrassment creeping in on you, but it subsided when you heard him snicker.     “Only if I get to wear your hat,” He joked, and you broke your hand away from his, already missing the contact, to pull the hat from your head. He eagerly took it from you, placing it on his head and walking away from you, his fists in the air as a sign of victory. You just about managed to grab your camera from your bag, snapping the moment in perfect timing just before he turned around.      You both laughed as the ink resurrected on the fresh film, and you grabbed a pen from your bag to write his name on the film border, wanting the memory to connect with his name, to remember it forever. Longer than forever.

      Once you got home that night, you scanned and emailed him all the photos you’d taken of him. You were even in a few of them.       He emailed back the following Monday morning.       You still have my book and I still have your hat. I’m using that as an excuse to ask you out on a date. Are you free tomorrow night? --- angel list --- @nerdyfangirl67 @arganfics @rachelxwayne​ @mortallythoughtfulgurl​ @ladydansblanche​@guessthatswhyiliveinhell​ @todaynotseen​  @reidandweep​@101donuts​ @thanatosisthegodofdeath @hopebaker​ @snitchthewitch​ @psych0crybaby​ @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​ 

[cinema-tv-etc]

‘Bridgerton’ Isn’t Bad Austen — It’s An Entirely Different Genre

Critics and viewers have dinged the show for being a cliché-ridden period piece or a sloppy historical drama. But it’s neither: It’s Regency romance, and it’s spectacular.

By Claire Fallon

I was deep in a Regency romance binge a few years ago when I pitched a highly self-interested piece to my editor: an investigation into why this didn’t exist onscreen.

This was a creature apart from the Jane Austen adaptations and sedate period pieces I already enjoyed, or sexy but bloody cable costume dramas. A Regency romance is set in a fantasy version of British high society in the early 19th century, and the central action revolves around the courtship between a woman (often a well-bred beauty) and a man (often a rakish peer). They consummate their attraction in improbably acrobatic sexual encounters, and then they live happily ever after.

In the post-2016 election malaise, these novels became my anxiety palliative of choice. They piled up next to my bed and in my e-reader. But sometimes I wanted more, wanted to see the gossamer petticoats and lingering glances and gently unfastened bodices. The piece I pitched never materialized, but the object of my longing did. On Christmas Day 2020, Shondaland’s “Bridgerton” arrived on Netflix.

What ensued was both somewhat exhilarating — getting to see my Regency escapism come to life — and unnerving. My private indulgence, one generally viewed with dismissiveness if not contempt by non-romance readers, had become the target of a full-blown cultural discourse. “Bridgerton” was met with valid and vital critiques, especially over its treatment of consent, but also ones that made me wince: that it was formulaic, predictable, vapid, historically inaccurate, best suited for teens.

Many of the critiques, understandably, seemed rooted in unfamiliarity with the genre’s conventions, or in the expectation that “Bridgerton,” which is based on a series of books by Julia Quinn, would resemble a “Pride and Prejudice” remake. “You don’t get it!” I wanted to shout. “That’s not what this is!” The historical romance has finally gone mainstream — and that means a whole new audience is learning how to read a genre so long relegated to the margins. Sometimes that can be a bumpy ride.

With its bounty of sherbet-hued satin gowns, scandal rags full of malicious gossip, unblinkingly earnest romance, and on-screen lovemaking, “Bridgerton” seems to defy easy categorization for many critics, journalists and viewers — and even Regé-Jean Page, who stars as the smoldering Duke of Hastings.

“It’s a little bit of Jane Austen meets ‘Gossip Girl’ with maybe ‘49 Shades [of Grey’],” he told The Wrap in a December interview. Critics and viewers, at their wits’ ends trying to make sense of this sexy, gossipy, frothy Regency costume drama, also tried to characterize it in terms of beloved on-screen classics: “Pride and Prejudice,” “Downton Abbey,” and, yes, “Gossip Girl.” These comparisons convey some bafflement, an uncertainty about how to categorize a show that isn’t really a realist historical drama, nor an edgy satire, nor a campy soap.

Though it’s true that Austen was the inspiration behind the whole subgenre — the first Regency romance novelist, Georgette Heyer, was emulating Austen’s work — it has evolved into a well-established genre with its own tropes, conventions and standards.

“There’s a way that those kinds of incredibly popular adaptations of Austen will make you, I think, expect that you’re watching a certain kind of thing, and romance novels are not trying to do the same thing at all,” critic Aaron Bady said in a phone conversation. “If you go in watching ‘Bridgerton’ and say, ‘I think I’m watching Jane Austen,’ you’re going to be disappointed. It feels a little Jane Austen-y, but it doesn’t work like a Jane Austen novel.”

Nor is period romance merely a form of realist period fiction. In her review of the show, Patricia Matthew, an associate professor of English at Montclair State University, placed it in a long artistic tradition of Black women depicted in Regency settings. But ultimately, she said in a phone interview, “Nobody’s reading Julia Quinn because they’re looking for disquisitions on historical precedent.”

Bursting though a romance novel may be with carefully researched, period-accurate details about Vauxhall entertainments, Almack’s vouchers or ribboned chemises, these novels really aren’t about the Regency era, or at least not primarily.

“Historical romance does a different kind of work than historical fiction,” Sarah MacLean, a popular historical romance author, told me during a phone call. “The work of the romance novel is not to tell the story of the past. It is to hold a mirror to the present.”

By building a love story between the primary couple, one that is guaranteed to end “happily ever after” or “happy for now,” a romance novel not only provides escapism and the heart-pounding rush of vicarious passion, but a space in which to explore how romantic relationships can and should be, and how women can find fulfillment and happiness. And that means these stories have little to do with how the marriage market of Regency high society actually functioned; they’re about what readers — predominantly women — want to see in their lives today.

“The appeal of the time period for readers is very much about being able to distance readers from certain kinds of social issues and then reframe them as a reflection of society now,” MacLean explained. In the 1970s, novels typically featured brooding alpha males who took what they wanted sexually ― a narrative device, MacLean argued, for the fictional heroines of the time to have plenty of sex without being seen as loose and deserving of punishment. Historical romance novels today often feature heroes and heroines having what seem like rather anachronistically tender exchanges about consent.

Ella Dawson, a sex and culture critic, sees period romance as a way to provide a balm — an experience in which violence and trauma are, if not absent, superseded by a reassurance of ultimate well-being — while also walking readers through more thorny questions.

“Romance as a genre is really interested in consent, in diversity representation, in political issues,” she said. “Romances are so infused with these issues that I [am] really passionate about, and they explore it through this really fun, romantic, swoony, but still very intellectual, thoughtful, accessible lens.”

As odd as it felt to see a straightforward romance adaptation dissected as if it were a failed attempt at matching Jane Austen, it makes sense. Because the genre is generally regarded with such disdain in mainstream culture, it occupies a rather marginalized niche. A non-romance reader is unlikely to have a firm grasp of many things about the genre, outside of well-worn jokes about throbbing members and Fabio’s flowing hair, and though romance is among the bestselling genres in the book industry, it’s rarely adapted for TV or film.

Why has this omission persisted for so long? “I can’t imagine that it isn’t a huge amount [due to] patriarchy, in the sense that for the same reason it gets disdained on the page, it gets disdained on the screen,” said MacLean. To this day, the people deciding which films and shows to finance are almost entirely men. Shonda Rhimes is that rare exception — a woman with creative control over a TV empire, and a fan of the Quinn series.

Practical obstacles to adapting romance also pop up. A novel stuffed with sex scenes and building toward a tidy happy ending may be tricky to adapt for network TV, which needs to keep things a bit cleaner — and keep the narrative drama going indefinitely.

And it’s not just the network TV standards and the tidy endings. The heightened reality and bodice-unclasping of the genre, Matthew said, rely on an intimacy between the reader and the page that’s difficult to translate to the screen.

“I think the plot lines are bananas. I think they’re so extreme that they strain credulity,” she said, laughing. “You have to believe that a sane man, an adult, would say, ‘Oh, I’m just not going to have children so I can spite my father.’ It only works if it’s you with a glass of wine, kind of throwing yourself over to the world of romance.” It’s awkward to sit with someone else, knowing they’re watching the same melodramatic story unfold, partaking in a pleasure that feels somewhat private, if not embarrassing. “We all have these fan worlds that when they’re exposed to other people that aren’t a part of that world we might feel protective of, or feel bashful,” she said.

https://www.huffpost.com/entry/bridgerton-netflix-romance-genre_n_60086fd5c5b6ffcab969dafa?utm_source=pocket-newtab

[gamergirl929]

Take A Picture It Will Last Longer (I Just Might) (Emily Sonnett x Reader)

Anonymous Request: Okay hear me out... A sonnett imagine where the reader is a new worker for the photography company and the r keeps getting distracted while watching sonnett play but sonnett also get distracted by the r and after a while of CONSTANT flirting one of them makes a move plz and thank u ur amazing

“SONNETT!” Kelley yells, just as a ball smacks into the side of the blonde’s head, her hazel orbs wide as she glances around.  

“Wha...?” She glances around, turning to Kelley who’d just ran up to her.  

“Where’s your head at?” She asks and Emily clears her throat, her eyes darting to where you’re kneeling down on the ground, holding a camera.  

Kelley follows her gaze with a toothy grin.  

“AHHH! I see.” She winks and Sonnett rolls her eyes, giving her a shove.  

Off field, you’re watching the pair with a smile, your cheeks flushed.  

Emily Sonnett had, had her eyes on you for the entire practice, hazel orbs darting your way each and every opportunity they could.  

Honestly, you couldn’t keep your gaze off of her either, it was your first day taking pictures of the USWNT and it was going to be a regular gig, you traveling alongside them to take photos, the photos you yourself had always seen scattered online.  

You glance down at your camera’s screen, giggling when you realize you’d caught the moment the black and white ball had hit the side of Emily’s head on camera.  

Your laughter draws the attention of those nearby, as well as a few players on the field and you cover your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laughter.  

On field, Emily is grinning, cheeks red.  

“Awwwwwww.” Kelley pokes her in the cheek and she swats her hand away with a pout.  

“What’s going on here?” Alex walks up with a grin, and Kelley turns to her.  

“Sonnett’s got a crush on the new camera girl.” She bites her tongue between her teeth and Emily rolls her eyes.  

“I do not.” She grumbles as she stomps away, but as she glances out of the corner of her eye and sees you looking her way, she can’t help but blush.  

                                                           ***

It’s time for your first USWNT game, and you couldn’t be more excited.

The fans cheering as the anthems sound on field, you snapping pictures of the team, some singing along, while others, Megan Rapinoe in particular stands for what she believes in.  

You were absolutely giddy when the teams took the field and the game had begun, taking shot after shot of each and every player, catching a few that you knew would catch the public’s eye for sure.  

You turn towards the bench, still staring through your lens when you see a familiar pair of hazel orbs on you.  

Your eyes widen as you glance over the top of your camera, Emily Sonnett still staring your way, eyes wide when she realizes she’s been caught.  

You surprise her by giving her a thumbs up and the woman grins, nudging her teammates beside her, Mal Pugh and Lindsey Horan, the three posing for a photo.  

You take a few snapshots before turning back to the field, sending Emily a wink before you go back to taking pictures, unaware that the blonde’s eyes are still on you, her friends teasing her about her obvious crush on the new photographer.  

                                                           ***

You circle the team in their huddle, the game well over as Vlatko talks with his team.  

You snap a number of memorable shots, and hope they’ll be enough to impress as you move down field, completely unaware that you’re about to slam right in to the woman who’d been plaguing your mind the entire day.  

“Shit.” You mumble under your breath as you run straight into the woman who’d stopped in front of you.  

“I’m so sorr-

You go silent, smiling when you realize the woman standing in front of you is the one and only Emily Sonnett.  

“Uhhh, hi.” Emily shuffles nervously from foot to foot and you grin.  

“Hi.” You bite your bottom lip, your cheeks flushed.  

The two of you stand still, eyeing one another intently before you both nod.  

“Well bye.” You both at the same time, turning and rushing off in opposite directions, Sonnett’s team watching on with wide eyes and confused expressions.  

Lindsey snorts.  

“Ummm, what the hell was that?”  

Ashlyn walks up, her hand in Ali’s.  

“Gay panic?” The blonde asks and Ali nods.  

“Gay panic.”  

“Where’s the gay panic?” Megan asks when she walks up at the couple nods to where Sonnett is running, completely in the opposite direction of the locker room.  

Megan nods.  

“Looks like gay panic to me.”  

Kelley snorts.  

“Better get her before she wanders off and we have to put out an Amber Alert.” Kelley shakes her head cupping her hands around her mouth.

“SONNETT! OUR LOCKER ROOM IS THE OTHER WAY!”

The blonde stops before glancing around, cheeks blood red.  

“I KNEW THAT!”  

                                                           ***

Needless to say, your encounter with Emily a week ago didn’t go exactly as you had planned your first meeting with her would go, so sadly, there was no turning back but you planned on making your second encounter with her a bit better than the first.  

“Uhh, hi.” You whisper, Emily glancing around, still spraying her water into her mouth. When she realizes it’s you she completely forgets about the water, spraying it all over the front of her tank top.  

“Jesus Christ Sonnett.” Kelley whispers to herself, but when you start to laugh, she smiles.  

Emily shakes her head running a palm down her wet shirt.  

“It’s not funny.” She pouts and you shrug.  

“Pretty funny from where I’m standing.”  

Emily crosses her arms across her chest with a pout and you grin.  

“I’m Y/N, sorry I didn’t really uhhh, introduce myself the other day.” You shrug, fidgeting nervously.  

You smile, holding your hand out and Emily grins, dropping her water on the ground in favor of taking your hand in hers.  

“Emily, and yeah I didn’t really introduce myself yesterday either, I was uhhh... Late for a meeting.” She shrugs, taking a step towards you.  

Unfortunately for her, she steps on the water she dropped moments before spraying the bottle’s contents all over the place.  

“Oh my god.” Ashlyn snorts, face palming on field along with the rest of her teammates gathered there.  

“What are we going to do with her?” Mal whispers, but before anyone can answer you start to laugh, a laugh that Emily can’t help but return.  

Tobin grins, crossing her arms across her chest.  

“Nothing, seems like she likes Sonnett just how she is.”  

                                                           ***

It’s in the next game against England when you find you can’t keep your eyes off the defender, who is tearing up the field, letting fans of the USWNT see the side known as Saucy Sonnett.  

You just so happen to get a few pictures of Emily Saucy Sonnett in all her glory, a particular picture of Sonnett sitting on the turf and glaring at a ref, bottom lip protruding has you laughing so hard tears are streaming down your cheeks.  

By the time halftime rolls around you realize that a wide array of your photos are only of Emily Sonnett and your eyes widen, cheeks blood red.  

You clear your throat quick to hide your camera, from whomever may be walking past.  

“Whatcha hiding there?” You hear a voice behind you and you nearly jump out of your skin, flipping around to find the one and only Saucy Sonnett standing in front of you.  

“Uhhhh, nothing at all.” You shrug innocently, and Emily’s eyes narrow.  

“I don’t know you’re displaying suspicious behavior.”  

You let out a hum, shrugging.  

“Guess you’ll just have to see when the pictures come out.” You wink and Sonnett’s eyes widen.  

A sudden arm slips around Sonnett’s neck and she’s pulled away in a headlock by Tobin Heath who sends you a grin as she drags the blonde into the tunnel, the woman attempting to wiggle out of her hold the entire way, but to no avail.  

You glance down at your camera with a smirk, biting your bottom lip, contemplating if you should post the picture or not.  

                                                           ***

“OH MY GOD.” Kelley wheezes a few days later as she shoves her phone under Emily’s nose, showing her the photo, you’d taken of her glaring at the ref grumpily.  

Emily’s cheeks flush bright red, her eyes wide.  

“Ohhhh, and look your girlfriend posted it.” Lindsey teases and Emily grumbles.  

“She isn’t my girlfriend.”  

It’s just then you come into view, kneeling down to snap some pictures of the players on the field for practice.

Sonnett jumps to her feet and marches over to you, unbeknownst to you considering your face is hidden behind your camera, but when you do spot her, you grin.  

“Hey.” You grin and Emily huffs, you snicker.  

“I guess you saw my picture.” You wink and the defender pouts.  

“Oh, come on.” You nudge her playfully. “It was cute.”  

Your eyes widen, Sonnett’s following close behind as the two of you glance away from one another, your cheeks flushed pink.  

“What I mean to say is...” You glance away biting your lip, a foreign courage stirring in you before you turn back to the blonde with a smirk.  

“No that’s what I meant to say.” You wink and Emily’s eyes double in size, cheeks flushing a darker shade of red.  

“Sonnett!” Someone calls out and the blonde blinks rapidly, clearing her throat before she glances over her shoulder.  

“Ye-Yeah, that.” She points before turning around and rushing off, back towards her teammates.  

You watch her go with a giggle, grinning when the woman glances over her shoulder to look at you one last time, stumbling over her own feet as she does so.

You shake your head watching as she moves to talk to one of her coaches, her hazel orbs darting your way every few seconds.  

You glance down at your camera, smiling softly as you focus your lens on the blonde, taking a picture of the two of them, though to be honest, you may or may not zoom in to only get Emily into the picture.  

The sunlight hits her just right, her hazel orbs shining almost as bright as her smile when you snap the photo and you glance down at it.  

You swallow hard, cheeks flushing dark red.

This was one photo you’d be sure to save and though you weren’t about to admit it just yet, it wasn’t just because the photo was beautiful, but the woman in the photograph as well.  

                                                           ***

You were mortified, of course they would want the picture of Emily Sonnett you took released, the photo of the blonde’s shining hazel orbs and dazzling smile on full display.  

A minute part of you was hoping that Emily hadn’t seen the photo, but when you saw her Instagram you knew she saw it, considering she was gushing about it and about the photographer who took it, AKA, you. She even went as far as to make it her Instagram's profile picture, displaying your photo to the entire world, a photo you weren’t sure you were ever going to share in the first place.  

“Well if it isn’t my favorite photographer.” You jump at the sound of a familiar voice, putting on a smile when you turn to the hazel eyed blonde with the dazzling smile.  

“Your favorite? That’s a pretty high honor.” You wink and Emily laughs.  

“Well, with you in the running, no one else could stand a chance.” She shrugs and you blush.  

Emily smirks, taking a step closer and your eyes widen.  

“You always take close ups of all the players like that?” She asks and you bite your bottom lip, that foreign courage again swirling in your chest.  

“Only the cute ones.”  

Emily blinks rapidly in surprise, the tips of her ears shifting from pink to red in a matter of seconds. She opens her mouth, but is cut off when someone’s hand settles on her shoulder, the owner of said hand revealing themselves to be Kelley O’Hara moments later.  

“So, this is the person behind that Instagram photo you can’t stop talking about.” Kelley smirks and Emily turns to her eyes wide in horror.  

“What do you mean?” She asks, scoffing dramatically and your brows raise.  

“She means... ‘Oh my god, look at the picture she took of me, isn’t she so talented.’” Lindsey mimics the blonde who rolls her hazel orbs.  

“’Do you think she takes pictures like that of everyone, do you think it means something?’” Mal squeaks and Emily throws her head back with a lengthy growl. 

Suddenly, Alex appears somehow reining in the trio and dragging them towards the bench, towards her other teammates.  

“Carry on.” Alex grins, sending Emily a wink that has her cheeks flushing. She turns back to you, rubbing the back of her neck nervously as she digs her heel into the turf.  

“So I was-

Sonnett is suddenly cut off by the sound of a whistle and she throws her head back with a growl, throwing her hands up in the air.  

“CAN I JUST TALK TO THE CUTE GIRL IN PEACE!?” She shouts, stomping towards the bench and her teammates who are watching her with wide eyes, the woman completely leaving you behind in utter shock, cheeks blood red.

“Subtle Sonnett. Subtle.” Kelley shakes her head, patting the woman on the back when she reaches her.  

“Did I just say that out loud?” She asks the USWNT veteran who slowly nods.  

“Yep.”  

                                                           ***

The next time Sonnett approaches you, she’s much stiffer than before, albeit nervous.  

“He-Hey.” She sends you an awkward wave and you grin, moving to your feet from where you were knelt on the sidelines.  

You smile, your own cheeks flushed.  

“Hey stranger.” You wink and Sonnett’s cheeks flush.  

Luckily for the two of you, it was nearly time for the second half to start, leaving just a sliver of time for the two of you to talk.  

“Ho-How’s my favorite photographer?” She stammers and your brows arch.  

“Great now that her favorite defender is here.” You wink and Sonnett blushes bright red. Her tongue slips between the tight line her lips have formed and you bite your bottom lip.  

“Something on your mind?” You ask and Sonnett shrugs.  

“Maybe something...” She mumbles and your brows furrow as you take a step towards her.  

“What’s on your mind?” You ask worriedly and Sonnett takes a deep breath.  

“I was wondering if... Maybe...” Emily shuffles nervously from foot to foot and you cock your head to the side, smiling at the endearing sight.  

You take another step towards her, placing your hand gently on her forearm.  

“You can tell me.” You whisper realizing the blonde’s eyes are as wide as saucers as she stares down at your hand, your thumb running back and forth across the flesh of her arm.  

Goosebumps sprout beneath the pad of your thumb and you smile softly, Y/E/C orbs locking with Emily’s hazel ones.  

Emily opens her mouth, immediately snapping it shut before doing the action again, trying to find the words she’s searching for but unfortunately, she comes up empty.  

Also, unfortunately, she’s waved over by her team, giving you a singular nod before she rushes away, the phantom feel of your palm on her forearm.  

                                                           ***

The game against Sweden is brutal, as per usual some of the tackles to Sonnett sends a shiver down your spine and twisting your stomach in worry.  

Needless to say, you’re relieved when the game ends and everyone, is mostly intact. What you don’t expect however is Emily Sonnett literally bypassing everyone and running towards you. She throws her arms around you, pulling you into a surprise, sweaty hug that you’re more than happy to reciprocate.  

“DOYOUWANTTOGOONADATEWITHME!?” Emily shouts, her words running together like word salad.  

Your brow furrows when you pull back, eyes wide.  

“Come again?” You laugh and Sonnett takes a deep breath, swallowing hard. She’s about to clam up again, but when you boldly tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she finds the words she’s been searching for, for so long.  

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” She asks, nervously fidgeting and you grin, surprising her and yourself by gently taking her hand.  

“I’d love to.” You whisper and the smile that takes up half of Emily’s face is dazzling, her eyes shining as she bites her bottom lip.  

“Uhh... Cool...” She nods, and your brow arches.  

“I’ll uhhh, give you my deets later.” She gives you a thumbs up, backing away slowly.  

You watch her go, the woman throwing a fist in the air before she is even a foot away. She glances over her shoulder, cheeks dark red as she gives you a charming smile.  

You shake your head, your own face split in half by a massive smile.  

You had a date with THE Emily Sonnett, and you couldn’t believe it.

[mrneighbourlove]

Metal Rider: Ch 1. The New Client

"Alright. Smile for the camera. Three, two, one." The light of the lens flashed, capturing the image of the family company. The photographer shook his head, raising a brow at the lead woman. "Ms. Tablitha. Please straighten your back. You're the shining new star. I swear wild animals follow the rules better."

"Okay, if it's so easy, you try sitting straight in this dress." Asakonigei huffed, trying to adjust a bit more comfortably on the chair in a so-called 'graceful' pose. "In heels, a dress, a push-up bra, and ten pounds of jewelry to be exact."

"Come on, dear, it's not that bad, is it?" Ragulul asked his niece. "We need you as our star for the new column in the magazine."

"Yes, there's too many pictures of old farts anyhow." Valeken assured her. "A pretty lady is exactly what we need."

"Dad, I'm sure I can put on a dress and look ten times better." Bodacin snickered, teasing his cousin. "What do you think, Asa? I could rock it."

"And those heels." Marmosel laughed, nudging Asa in the shoulder.

"Oh, shut it." Asa punched her cousin in the arm.

Kahli adjusted his camera, trying his best to tune out the immaturity. "Let's go again. Three. Two. One." He took another photo, looking unimpressed. "Adequate. Don't quit your day job for a career as a model. Mr. Tablitha. I'll take this down to the print shop and have her photo ready."

"Oh, come on, I just know you want me in a dress like Marilyn Monroe standing over a grate." Bodacin threw an arm around Kahli's shoulders. "I'd be an overnight sensation."

"There'd be overnight reports of sudden blindness." Marmosel joked, earning a giggle from Asakonigei.

Kahli shoved the man off him, gathering up his equipment. "Childish."

Outside, a tall man with red hair, gruff cut facial hair and a black suit waited sitting outside a limo. Smoking a cigarette, he silently watched Kahli walk out the building. This new client of his told him to wait outside the building. "Tablitha industries, huh?"

The brothers shared a laugh while the uncles paid Kahli for his services. Once the photos were finished, Asakonigei went to change back into her business attire instead of the dress that screamed 'millionaire desperate housewife' as she so eloquently put it. Not far behind Kahli was Ragulul, the elder of the two uncles. "Ah, you must be Mister Dragmire, yes?"

"Malik Dragmire. Limo service. I was told you may have wanted an ongoing service."

"Yes, please, follow me to my office." Ragulul motioned for the man to come along into the building. "I require a limo for my niece. She's the quote on quote, 'face of the company', and responsible for bringing in new clients. Yet, while I understand that she is very capable of taking care of herself, one can never be too careful."

Malik did so, slowly walking behind the man. His presence was immediately intimating, casting an aura of menace. Least, that was the expression on his face. "You're a rich company. Rich face needs a rich ride."

"Indeed, though despite our 'richness' as you put it, one also requires safety." As the two men rode the elevator up to Ragulul's office, he then stated, "On your resume, I noted that you were a fighter of mixed martial arts. You served three years before released early on good behavior. Yet, all charges against you were dropped due to newfound evidence. You drive the limo for parties, proms, and other clients in the area." He then asked, "What would it take for you to be exclusive for my niece's appointments throughout the week?"

Malik eyes narrowed down on the man. "You look into my background? Best you keep it spoken at that." Looking over some papers, Malik looked up. $1,500 dollars a day. $500 for gas and repairs on the limo. $1000 for my service. Doesn't matter how little I drive the client."

"Would you hire some random stranger, who may or may not be trustworthy, to drive your niece everywhere, everyday, before looking into him?" Ragulul seemed unfazed by Malik's tone or price. "Very well. That is agreeable. You will be here at 7:30 in the morning to await my niece. If she is not being driven, you follow her into appointments. If she works late, you wait with her. If she calls you in the middle of the night to be driven to the airport, you go. Any location, you drive. Understood?"

"Understood." Malik grabbed the papers, signing his work contract.

~

Cleaning the blood off his knuckles, Malik flipped his out from his pocket. Seemed Ms. Tablitha finally wanted his service. Good timing too. After texting he'd be there in 15 minutes, Malik wrapped cleaned up, got in his limo, and drove up the highway to pick her up. Sitting in the front, he unlocked the back door as he saw her coming out of the building.

Asakonigei had her huge tote pocketbook over her shoulder and heels in the other hand as she hurried to the limo. She was dressed in business attire, consisting of a white blouse, black skirt, transparent tights, and her hair pulled back into a long tail with hoop earrings dangling to her shoulders. In one ear was a bluetooth device, walking as she spoke to the client. She was currently doing damage control, the client fussing over supposedly a less than appealing set of doors for the custom-made car he ordered. Holding onto Malik's arm, she balanced herself while slipping on the heels.

"No, Mister Kiys, I understand, I'm heading that way now to personally inspect the doors myself." Asakonigei assured the picky man. "I'll be there within a half hour." Once the phone call was over, the petite woman then cleared her throat and quickly put on the other heel. "Thank you."

Malik nodded, leading her to the back door. "I have some water bottles in the back if you need to drink."

"You're a lifesaver, though I may need a beer after this." Asakonigei slid into the limo and then slumped into the seat with an audible sigh. "I'm hoping this is just a fluke and the old man is going senile."

Malik got into the front, turned on the limo, tapped in the coordinates into the GPS, and started driving. As they were heading down the road, he resumed his playlist, playing, "Take Me Home, Country Roads."

"... you know, I wouldn't have guessed you enjoyed country music." Asakonigei tried to keep a straight face, but with all the memes surrounding that particular song, it was impossible not to snicker. "Don't forget to take the ten second inhale before screaming 'West Virginia'."

Malik didn't sing along to the song, even as said 'West Virginia' beat played on. Turning onto the highway, the neon city light shined down on them. The next song that turned on was "Somebody That I Used to Know", only it had a synth edge to it.

"... You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness ..." He mumbled as the bar passed by.

As soon as the limo pulled up to the destination, Asakonigei barely had time to pull Mister Kiys' file before trouble started. The old man was out there waiting for her, arms crossed and foot tapping. Taking a breath, she put on her best smile and told herself this was nothing new. This particular client was picky and very selective.

Malik put on his shades, turned the limo off and got out. “You prefer me at the car or at your side miss?”

"You can come with me if you like." Asakonigei sighed and started to ask Mister Kiys how he was, but his tirade started before she could even start.

"The doors! What kind of work did you send me?" The old man huffed at the woman, shaking a finger. "You shouldn't hire ex-cons to do an honest man's work! They're costing you time and money." He gestured to her to follow him to the warehouse where the materials he bought to make cars were stored. "Look at all the warps in the metal!"

Malik chose to follow, glancing around at the cars. His shades hid his eyes from looking directly on Asakonigei. He was curious what kind of woman she was under pressure.

"Mister Kiys, I assure you, if there was a problem on my end of the work, then it will most assuredly be fixed." Asakonigei inspected the doors. What Mister Kiys said was true, there were warps. It looked like whoever was working on this model of door frame was doing a half-assed job. Great. If this pair was bad, she could only imagine what the others might look like. "It seems you are correct, MIster Kiys. This is not the greatest of work, yet we will send you new doors, free of charge. I will personally inspect the doors before the pairs are shipped here."

"Hmph." Mister Kiys still did not look too impressed. "When you find the man who did this, you should fire him. You need someone trustworthy and someone who does decent work."

"I do agree the individual who did this needs a lecture."

"How fast can I get new doors?"

"I'll see to it that you have them by the end of the week."

Seems she was able to keep her cool and analyze the problem in front of her quickly. Grabbing a paper cup, Malik poured himself a drink to parch his lips.

"I don't understand why you insist upon hiring these people..." Mister Kiys grumbled under his breath. "I'm surprised they haven't stolen from you."

"If they do steal from us, it's a straight, one-way ticket back to prison." Asakonigei reminded her client patiently. "We're trying to do a good thing."

"It's more like they're simply taking advantage of your good nature."

Malik casually nodded to the cute front desk girl eying and smiling at him. Green hair wasn’t his thing, but he appreciated the nod. Grabbing a paper, he flipped through the local news as Asakonigei continued talking. With a chuckle, he laughed at the Calvin and Hobbes comic.

Once Asakonigei was done with Mister Kiys, the face of Tablitha Industries was ready to throttle someone. Once Malik escorted her back to the limo, she then instructed, "Mister Dragmire, take me to the factory, please. I need to speak with my employees about this subpar work."

“Of course.” Driving down the road, he couldn’t help but smile rubbing the wheel. “You know, this limo is a Kikai Industries Model. Good company.”

"I've heard a great many things about Kikai." Asakonigei nodded. "We used to work with them until the scandal was exposed about embezzling money."

“Scandal? That was dismissed in court.”

"While it was dismissed in court, it still doesn't explain where all the money went. It hurt our company and several others." Asakonigei shook her head. "My uncles lost nearly 30 million dollars with Kikai."

“Well, Onaga Kikai was forced to step down. Maybe you’d do better with his successors. Heard they’re a close family of siblings now.” Smooth Criminal was about to play, but Malik switched the song to Poker Face. “Eh, bad taste.”

"Perhaps. Yet, it has to be a joint decision." Asakonigei did not sound too keen on trying to go back into business with someone who had hurt her family's lifelong work of building up an empire from the ground. "My uncles and cousins might not want to try to rebuild that bridge that someone else burned."

“Well, can’t fault you there.” Pulling up back at the factory, Malik followed Asakonigei closely behind.

"Wear this." Asakonigei handed Malik a mandated safety hat and a pair of protective glasses. "Each time you go into the factory, you need to wear these. You never know when something might fall or you could get a face full of welding sparks. Understand?"

“Uuuh, sure.” Malik complied, awkwardly putting the helmet and goggles on.

"... your hat is backwards." Asakonigei noticed the man was such a hulk, he had to hold the safety glasses in-between a thumb and index finger. "Bend down here and I'll help you."

Malik frowned, turning it around. “I’m fine.”

"Stay on the walkway and don't wander off." Asakonigei slid her card to open the factory door. "Don't touch anything. Just stay with me. A lot of this equipment can be dangerous."

“You got it.”

 Once inside the entryway, Asakonigei power walked down the designated area for walking, outlined by two yellow lines, streaked through with white. As she continued through the factory, a lot of the workers paused in their task to greet her or politely waved. However, she was a woman on a mission. Each employee had a serial number for the work produced. And a certain employee was about to get a royal chewing out for his crappy craftsmanship.

 Malik walked behind her, actually recognizing a couple people in the assembly line.

 "Mister Urgo!!!" Asakonigei's voice was so stern and loud that a few of the other employees nearly jumped out of their skin. Several of them were either grimacing or muttering a soft prayer for Urgo's job because he was in serious trouble.

 Mister Urgo nearly dropped his welding torch. "Damn it---sorry for the language, Miss Tablitha." Urgo apologized for the foul words. "What can I do for you?"

 "Did you sign off on the shipment to Mister Kiys?" Asakonigei had her hands on her hips, a dark scowl on her face. "I... might have."

 "Did you or did you not? It's a yes or no answer, Mister Urgo."

 "Yes, yes, I signed off on the doors! Why? What's the matter?"

 "Those so-called doors were warped, Mister Urgo. What happened?"

 Malik took out a note book, charting his work schedule so far for the day.

 Excuses. That's what Urgo said. All she heard were excuses. It only made Asakonigei madder. "Mister Urgo, when I gave you this job, I expected exemplary work. What you signed off on not only made me look bad to Mister Kiys, it made the entire company look faulty, lazy, and worst of all, cheap." Asakonigei's scolding could be heard from the other side of the factory due to the echo. "You have two choices. You can take a demotion, or you can quit."

 "But---!"

 "Which will it be, Mister Urgo?"

 Malik glanced down at the man; his eyes cold. He hoped he had the common sense to take the demotion.

 "The... the demotion, Miss Tablitha." Urgo gulped when the newest addition to the company glared at him with eyes of hell. "I'll take that, please."

 "... you're back on janitor duty starting tomorrow. Go home." Asakonigei instructed the ex-con with a frown. "I'm disappointed in you, Mister Urgo. I expected better."

 As Asa gleamed over the others, Malik watched the ex-con walk by. Least he still had a job.

"Everyone, back to work." Asakonigei instructed. "Due to Mister Urgo's negligence, you will have to pick up his orders as well. I trust you can do this? I will be happy to pay you overtime."

 "Yes, yes, Miss Tablitha."

"Good. Don't forget about the mandatory check ins with your parole officers coming up at the end of the month." She reminded the employees. "Also, this Friday is the company picnic. Bring your families."

Malik checked his watch. 9PM. “Anything else you need Ms. Tablitha?”

"Drive me home, please." Asakonigei reminded Malik. "I have to be in downtown tomorrow for an appointment at 9am."

Getting in the car, Malik played some light music as they drove off. “So I can take Friday off then if you’ll be sticking around for the family picnic?”

"Mister Dragmire, you are an employee of Tablitha Industries, correct?"

“I’m on a week’s contract to start. That hardly qualifies me for company picnic status.”

"Regardless of your status, it would be bad taste to refuse." Asakonigei looked at his face from using the rear-view mirror. "Not to mention, it's free food."

He appeared to be a man who thought it was amusing, but ultimately below him. “The amount of money you’re paying me I can have all the food I want at home.”

"Suit yourself then." Asakonigei then said in a most sly tone. "I'd just... hate to call you in on your day off. For work related purposes, of course. Never know when you might run out of ice for the cooler."

Stopping at a red light, Malik took a look back at Asakonigei, studying her in the blink of an eye. “Sometimes a man needs his time off to be alone.” A light smile, he caught something. “That ring on your finger? Shouldn’t you be happy with your family instead of worrying about the help?”

"A man alone is always up to something, usually no good. At least, that's what my uncles say." Asakonigei knew that he was thinking about her, wondering what was going through her head. "I can tell just from looking at you that you've been in too many fights. Those knuckles have seen better days. Besides, what could it hurt to mingle?" When he remarked on the ring, she laughed. "Just because I'm getting married doesn't mean I'm going to stop working."

Turning back to the green light, his shoulders dropped. “Maybe I rather fight to break a sweat then go around mingling with complete strangers. Besides. I don’t have any family to bring.”

"It doesn't matter if you don't have anyone to bring, a lot of the men don't. It's just for good measure." Asakonigei reminded him. "And fighting won't solve everything in life, Mister Dragmire."

“Makes me money and it’s a fun activity.” Pulling up to her house, he turned back to her. “Pick you up at 9AM?”

"Yes, you'll be taking me around downtown to do some errands." Asakonigei started gathering her things. "Bring a book. You'll be doing a lot of 'hurry up and wait' tomorrow."

“Fine by me. Need me to walk you up the stairs little girl?”

"Little? I'm by no means little, Mister Dragmire." Asakonigei then shrugged, totally jesting. "Though you could just carry me up to my apartment. My feet are very sore."

“Your lover won’t protest?”

"My fiance is working late tonight. Besides, he doesn't live with me yet." Asakonigei shook her head as she took down her hair and removed her earrings, placing the jewelry into her bag. "We're looking for a new place together."

“Ms. Tablitha. What would the neighbours think?” Malik had a cheeky tone to him.

"And what makes you think I care what they think of me?"

“Rumours spread. Sometimes, people think what they want. And what they think puts you into trouble, regardless either or not they are true.” Unlocking the door for her, he waved her off. “See you in the morning.”

"Have a good night, Mister Dragmire." Asakonigei gave him a light smile. "I hope you sleep well. Get plenty of rest."

________________________________________________________________

Brand new Modern AU with @ridersoftheapocalypse! Very excited to start this story!

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/643135695872049153/metal-rider-ch-2-mr-chauffeur

[starryknight09]

Burning love

Febuwhump Day 22: burned

Read on AO3.

________________________________________________________

Peter hadn’t been paying attention.  He knew better, but he’d been distracted thinking about the best way to ask MJ to the spring fling dance.  Even after Tony had harped on him over and over again about lab safety and always being careful and blah blah blah, which Peter thought was more than a little hypocritical because the other man was the antithesis of everything he preached about.

Regardless, one moment he’d been thinking about whether inviting MJ to the dance required flowers, and the next moment he forgot to move the hand holding together the two Ironman armor pieces so it accidentally got in the way of the welding torch he was using to meld the seam.  It happened so fast, for a split second Peter just froze in shock, staring at his damaged hand even though he couldn’t see much through his welding mask.  Then the pain hit him and he sucked in a sharp breath.  He fumbled with the blowtorch for a second before he managed to turn it off.  Flipping his safety mask up, he examined his hurt hand, no longer filtered through the mask’s lens shade.

“Oh shit.” He swore as soon as he noticed the streak of red blistering skin across the back of it.

“What?” Tony perked up from across the room.  Peter’s back was to him, so he couldn’t see what had happened.  “Did you screw something up?  You need some help?”

“Uh…no.  I’m uh I’m good.” He stumbled over the words because oh god ow his hand hurt.  He really wanted to run over to the sink and shove it under some cold water, but there was no way Tony wouldn’t notice that and he didn’t want him to know how stupid he’d been.  Tony would be pissed, and there was no reason the man needed to know when it should heal itself relatively quickly anyway.

“You sure?” Tony asked, only his voice came from much closer.  Peter put the torch down and turned around, careful to keep both hands behind his back while still trying to look casual.

“Yeah, I’m sure.  It’s fine.  Totally fine.”

“Uh huh.” Tony narrowed his eyes at him.  “You’re a terrible liar.”

Tony peered around him to look at the armor and Peter twisted so he stayed facing the man.

“See?  It’s fine.  I didn’t mess it up.” He said, voice tight because oh god oh god his hand his hand.  He’d been shot before and it hadn’t hurt this much.  What was it about burns that caused such exquisite pain?

When Tony didn’t find anything wrong with the armor he turned his gaze back on Peter, eyes narrowing as he studied him.

“Why are you sweating?”

“It’s hot in here.” He answered but it sounded more like a question.

“FRIDAY what’s the temperature in here?”

“It is currently 70 degrees Fahrenheit.” FRIDAY responded.

“Mmhmm so any clue why the spiderling here is sweating?”

His eyes widened.  

“I believe it is secondary to the burn he just sustained on his left hand.”

“FRIDAY!” Peter protested the snitching at the same time Tony snapped, “What?” and grabbed his arm, yanking it forward so his hand came into view.  The man swore as soon as he saw the burn and Peter’s face scrunched.  It looked even worse now than it had a minute ago.

“What happened?” Tony demanded even as he dragged him by the wrist over to the sink.

“It slipped.”

“It slipped?” Tony echoed in disbelief as he guided Peter’s hand under the stream of cold water.  Even though the coolness helped, the pressure from the water hurt.  He grit his teeth.  Ow.  Ow.  Ow.

“How did it slip?” Tony asked.  “Aren’t your spidey powers supposed to keep these kinds of things from happening?”

Peter frowned.  Was he talking about his spidey sense?  “Um no.  I mean if some bad guy’s shooting at me then yeah, it’ll warn me, but it doesn’t warn me from myself because I’m not a bad guy.”

“That makes no sense.” Tony shook his head as he brought Peter’s hand out from under the faucet to look at it for a few seconds before shoving it back under again.

Peter winced and tried to explain, “Um it like senses intent?  So if someone wants to hurt me and then they try to it’ll warn me, but I didn’t want to hurt myself, I didn’t have any bad intent, so it didn’t warn me.  Does that make more sense?”

“No.  It should warn you either way.”

“Well, I mean yeah, that’d be nice, but it doesn’t.”

Tony huffed and pulled his hand out from the water again, turning off the faucet.  “Come on let’s get you to the medbay.”

“Oh.  No.  I don’t need the medbay.  We can just leave it.  It’ll heal in a day or so.” He protested even as Tony dragged him to the door.

“Yeah that’s going to be a big fat no.” Tony shook his head.  “We’re going to get this taken care of.”

Peter groaned.

**********

“So what are we dealing with here doc?  Is he going to be able to keep his hand?” Tony joked as Dr. Cho finished examining the burn.

“It’s a second degree burn.” Dr. Cho explained.  “But it’s over a relatively small area.  With his healing powers it should be completely fine in a couple days.”

“I told you.” Peter complained.

“I’ll put some burn salve on it and wrap it.” Dr. Cho said as she started gathering the necessary supplies from the cart next to the bed.  “I imagine it hurts, so once I’m done, I can grab you some of your pain pills if you want.”

“Oh no that’s ok.  I’m good.” He hated his pain pills.  They helped get rid of the pain, but they knocked him out too, and he didn’t feel like sleeping the day away over a stupid burn.  He’d come up for the weekend to spend time with Tony.  He wasn’t going to let a momentary lapse in judgment take that away.

“I’ll give a couple to Tony in case you change your mind.”

Peter sighed but didn’t argue.  She could give them to Tony but that didn’t mean he’d be taking them.

He watched as Dr. Cho slathered the burn in some cream and then wrapped it in gauze.  Once she’d finished, she handed Tony a couple pills and then gave Peter a small smile.  “You’re all set.  Stop by sometime tomorrow and I’ll take a look at it and re-wrap if it needs it.”

“Thanks Dr. Cho.” Peter said, jumping off the exam table, more than ready to leave.

“Back to the shop?” He asked as they walked out of the medbay.

“To do what?  You only have one working hand.” Tony scoffed.

“So do you and you manage pretty well.” Peter snarked.  Tony had survived after snapping the gauntlet but he’d paid for it with his arm.  He hadn’t let it slow him down, though.  He’d fashioned an even better one out of the same nanotechnology he’d used to make his suit.

“Not the same.”

Tony led them back to his rooms in the compound.  “Sit.” He ordered Peter.  “I’ll grab you some water.”

Peter actually listened for once and plopped down on the couch, picking up the remote with his good hand and turning on the TV.

“So, tell me again how this happened or you’re losing your welding privileges.” Tony said as he handed him a glass of water.  “Actually, either way you still might.  I haven’t decided.”

He took a drink of the water before setting it down on the side table.  “I told you.  It slipped.”

“And I’m not buying it kid.  There’s no way it just ‘slipped’.” Tony put the word in air quotes.  “But if you keep insisting, I guess I’ll just have to have FRIDAY play the footage.”

It wasn’t an empty threat, and he knew if Tony watched it he’d see right away he hadn’t slipped.

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes.  “I was distracted and I forgot to move my hand.  Happy?”

“No, I’m Tony.”

“Oh god that’s such a dad joke.”

“Don’t try to deflect.” Tony pointed a finger at him.  “You’re going need to explain more than ‘you got distracted’ before I even think about letting you touch that equipment again.”

Peter huffed in irritation.  “I was thinking about how to ask MJ out to the spring fling dance and I wasn’t paying close enough attention.”

Peter instantly regretted the admission when Tony’s face split into a wide grin.  “A girl huh?  All of this is because of girl.  See, that I can believe.”

“Oh god don’t get all weird about it.”

“You need some advice?  Not that I’m the best one to give advice when it comes to romantic uh stuff, or so Pepper would say.”

“No.  I don’t need any advice.” He shook his head.

“Ok, so how are you going to ask her?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Sounds like you need advice.”

“No I—”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t worry too much about it kid.  Just go up to her at school on Monday and ask, ‘Hey MJ do you want to go to the spring ding—”

“Spring fling.” He corrected, not quite sure if Tony had butchered the name on purpose or not.

Tony waved a hand dismissively.  “—together?’  If she’s anything like you’ve described her, she’ll appreciate the straight forwardness.”

That was probably true, but part of him wanted to make it special.  “You don’t think I should get her like some flowers or something?”

“Flowers?  To get asked to go to a dance?” Tony pulled a face.  “I wouldn’t think so, but then again I haven’t been in high school in…actually never.  I skipped that part of my childhood.”

Peter smiled.

“You know what?  I think this calls for an expert.” Tony took his phone out and put it on speaker as it rang.

“Tony?”

“Hey Pep.  Quick question.  The kid wants to ask his girlfriend out—”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Peter interrupted.

“You hear that?”  

“Yes I did.” Pepper said and Peter could hear the smile in her voice.

“Anyway, he wants to ask a girl out to some spring a ling dance.”

Yep, he was definitely doing it on purpose.  Peter didn’t bother to correct him this time.

“Does he need to get her flowers or something or should he just ask her?  I thought he should just ask her, but then he mentioned flowers, and I honestly have no clue how the kids are doing things these days, so we thought we’d check in with the master.”

“And that’s me?” Pepper asked in amusement.

“Yes dear.”

“Well, I think for once you’re right.” Pepper said and Tony did a little fist pump.

“Just ask her honey.  She’d be crazy to say no to you.  And then when she says yes, you can bring her flowers when you pick her up to go to the dance.  Ok?”

“Ok.” Peter responded.  “Thanks Pepper.”

“It’s no problem. ��I’d wish you luck, but I know you won’t need it.”

“All right.  Thanks Pep.” Tony said.

“You’re welcome.”

Tony hung up.

“See?  Easy.  Now, if you’d just brought this up when you’d gotten here you wouldn’t have had to suffer.” Tony gestured toward his bandaged hand.

Peter rolled his eyes.  “I didn’t want to say anything because I knew you’d make a big deal out of it.”

“But I didn’t, did I?”

Peter side eyed him suspiciously.  “No.  You didn’t.”

“So, on that note…do we need to have the talk?” Tony asked, arching an eyebrow at him, but Peter could tell he was just messing with him.

“Oh god.  I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Tony laughed.

**********

Monday morning came and his hand had healed.  Only a faint red line remained and he figured it’d be gone by tomorrow.  As he walked in, he decided to commit to following Tony’s advice.  He fidgeted all through the first half of the day until lunch period.  He’d seen MJ in class, but he didn’t think that was the best place to ask her with everyone else around, so he waited until they were alone in the lunch line together before taking a bolstering breath and asking.  “Hey MJ?”

“Hm?” She replied distractedly as she read the book in her hands.

“Do you, uh…do you want to go to the spring fling with me?”

MJ looked up from her book and the barest hint of a smile crossed her face as she raised an eyebrow at him.  “Are you asking me out Parker?”

“Um yeah.”

“Like as a date.” She clarified.

“Yes…”

“Ok.” She gave him a nod and went back to her book.

“Ok?  So that’s a yes?”

“Yes.” MJ smiled but kept staring at the page in front of her.

“Ok yeah um great.  That’s great!  Uh, thank you.”

MJ snorted.

“I mean uh cool.  It’ll-it’ll be fun.”

MJ kept reading and Peter tried to play it cool, but he couldn’t help pulling out his phone and texting Tony, ‘She said yes!’

‘Of course she did.’ Tony replied quickly.  ‘We’ll start brainstorming flower ideas next weekend.  But not around any heavy machinery.’

Peter smiled and shook his head.  That was actually something he didn’t need Tony’s help with.  He’d thought about it and already knew what kind of flowers he wanted to get her.  Actually, he wasn’t going to get her flowers at all.  A few months ago, she’d mentioned her favorite flower was the black dahlia because of its significance in the infamous Hollywood murder.  Since flower shops didn’t exactly carry bouquets of black dahlias, he’d searched online and found a black dahlia necklace.  The moment he saw it, he knew it’d be perfect.  He glanced back at MJ, unable to keep the smile off his face even as she kept her nose buried in her book.  The dance was only a month away.  He couldn’t wait.

[zambie-trashart]

Pixelator: Rewritten Series

guys... UGHHHHHH I know I say this every time but UGHHHHH! Why does season one have to be so hard!!!! I only have three more episodes from season one but I hate season one guys!

Read the whole series

Summary: Jon is sick with a Kryptonian virus and Marinette and Alya get stuck with crappy jobs. So when Pixelator, a maniac with a love for Jagged Stone starts terrorizing Paris, what will a partially pixelated Ladybug, sick Superboy, photographed Chat, and reluctant Robin do?

.......................................

Jon rolled around in his bed and Marinette was on the phone with Clark.

“He’s going through something, I’ll be over later but for now, I would just leave him alone. Even if it is a Kryptonian disease, it can affect Earthlings too and if it’s the one I’m thinking of, you don’t want it,” Clark said to his niece.

“Well what am I supposed to do, today us career day and Chloe’s going to make my life a living hell,” Marinette complained.

“Sorry, but he can’t leave the house for any reason, you stay safe now alright Mari?” Clark said before hanging up. 

Marinette ran to the hotel and stood next to Alya.

“Where’s Jon, Marinette?” Miss. Bustier asked looking for her normal shadow.

“He’s really sick, my mom should have called the school this morning,” Marinette said before Miss. Bustier went off into telling each student what their jobs would be. 

Alya and Marinette were left and Alya was assigned trash duty. Before Marinette could get her assignment, pop star Jagged Stone walked into the hotel with his crocodile. 

Marinette was assigned to be a gopher, which meant that she had to go get whatever any of the guests wanted. For Jagged Stone that was a pair of sunglasses in the shape of the Eiffel Tower that were red, white, and blue.

.......................................

Jon was giggling in the Fortress of Solitude as his dad scanned him. “Jonathan, hold still!” his father yelled turning around but when he did, his son wasn’t there anymore. “Shit.”

Superboy was floating in front to the hotel that Marinette would be spending the day at. He saw a random man who was dressed weirdly walk in and fire something at Chloe. He flew in and tried to save her but ended up getting pixelated with her.

His head started to clear and he looked around. “Where am I?” Superboy asked getting off the ground.

“Oh. My. God. Superboy!” Chloe yelled jumping on Jon’s back making him fall over.

“Help me,” Jon said looking up to whatever God there was.

.......................................

Marinette walked back to the hotel with a pair of shades that she thought would do the trick. Jagged was getting attacked so she transformed but Chat was nowhere in sight. She brought Jagged to her school thinking it was safe there. 

“Are you sure this is safe Ladybug, this is a school?” Damocles asked looking at the heroine and pop idol.

“Yeah, this is somewhere where no one would ever look for him, I mean who wants to go to school?” Ladybug asked before looking at Damocles’ face. “I mean isn’t school awesome?”

She exited the office and bumped into Robin.

“Is your arm gone?” Robin asked looking at her pixelated arm.

“Don’t remind me.” Ladybug rolled her eyes and the two were off. “I haven’t heard from Chat yet which means it’s just the two of us,” Ladybug said.

“I haven’t heard from Superboy but his father said he has some sort of rare kryptonian 24 hour hay fever. Makes him go loopy and stuff. It’s hard to watch,” Robin said thinking about the last time Jon had it. He had two defaults during that time, hugs and vomit.

“That sucks, I know where to look for this guy though. His name is Vincent and he lives in the downtown area of Paris,” Ladybug said and they were off.

.......................................

“It just goes on forever, no windows, no doors, nothing,” Adrien said to himself. He looked up and saw Ladybug and Robin standing there. They’re going to get us out of this.

“Superboy? What are you doing here, you are supposed to be in the Fortress!” Robin yelled at a picture. “I guess it’s been 24 hours but you should still be there not here, when we get you out of this you are going back there immediately, got it.” Robin seemed actually concerned for Superboy.

“Yes sir,” Superboy saluted making Ladybug laugh. They left and Adrien was left alone again.

“I’m going to try and make a deal with him and you can sneak up behind him and destroy his headset,” Ladybug said as they ran to the Acr De Triomphe where Pixelator was.

Ladybug let herself be cornered and Robin snuck up behind him just like planned.

“Go Robin!” a random citizen yelled. Good thing Robin had such good reflexes. They dodged beams and Robin hit them with his sword.

“How are you doing that?” Ladybug asked watching as his sword didn’t disappear.

“Nth metal, can withstand anything,” Robin said dodging another blast.

“I could use one of those,” Ladybug said in awe.

“Maybe I can train you sometime,” Robin said before realizing what he just said.

“Let’s focus on this first birdbrain. Lucky charm!” Ladybug called out getting a case of compact.

“Hey Pixelator! I heard you were looking for me!” Jagged yelled getting on top of a car.

“Look into the lens,” he said and as Jagged started to open his eyes, Ladybug threw the compact at Robin who hit it with the handle of his sword and Pixelator was sent into a picture of his own.

“Miraculous Ladybug!” she called and her arm was back. Superboy was lying on the ground in front of Robin and smiled up at him nervously.

“Two more hours, let’s get you back to your dad,” Robin said putting one of Superboy’s arms over his shoulder helping him up.

“Robin, wait!” Ladybug called out making Robin turn around. 

“Yeah.”

“I’d actually like that lesson sometime, seems useful,” Ladybug said and Robin smirked.

“Of course, see you next time,” Robin said grappling off with his friend.

“Robin’s got a girlfriend, Robin’s got a girlfriend!” Jon teased.

“Yeah, and she’s your cousin,” Damian said as they walked through the zeta tubes.

.......................................

“Jagged Stone is having a concert today and is giving tickets to the four students who demonstrated the highest work ethic today,” Penny said giving tickets to Alya, Nino, Adrien, and Marinette. 

Later that night at the concert Damian and Jon walked up next to them smiling as they tapped on either side of Marinette making her jump.

“Hey, feeling better Jon,” Adrien asked.

“I’m feline great,” Jon said before laughing at Damian’s face after the pun.

“Let’s just go in,” Damian said. 

“This song goes out to the couple that saved my life Ladybug and Robin!” Jagged said before starting to play the piano. Damian and Marinette blushed and Jon laughed. Couple comment aside, it was a great concert.

.......................................

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT

yeah that one took a lot out of me. so clearly some will be more focused on one ship rather than the other, this one was obviously more maribat rather than Adrijon but whatever. Some of them make more sense that way.

@loveswifi @ash-amg @wannajointhecrabcult @mochegato

[tefanfics]

Changes

Chapter 16

Taron followed me through the grocery store as I picked out things for the week. He wore a ball cap and for the most part he kept his head down as we walked through the aisles. Occasionally he would add to the cart. He gave me a look as I put a bottle of wine in with my things.

“What?” I asked, grinning at him.

“Didn’t you have enough to drink last night?” Taron teased.

I rolled my eyes and shushed him, continuing on. We went through the check out and Taron helped me put the groceries in the trunk of his car. As I turned to head to the passenger’s seat, I heard the sound of clicking. I looked up and realized I was staring straight into the lens of a camera.

“Uhhh… Taron?” I called as he returned from taking the cart back. He sighed and walked to my side, opening the door for me as I climbed into the car. He hurried to the other side and got in, locking the doors before starting the car.

My eyes were wide as my hands sat in my lap. I could see them shaking a little. “That was… Something,” I muttered.

Taron reached over and put a hand on my leg, glancing at me as he drove. “You alright?”

I nodded, forcing a smile as I looked at him. “Yeah. Just wasn’t expecting it…” I shrugged and looked away. I stayed quiet for a while and listened to the quiet radio. Taron hummed beside me, his hand still resting on my leg. I moved my hand on top of his and let my fingers sink between his. The car slowed down and he shut off the car. I got out and went to the trunk as we gathered my groceries. Taron followed me inside and up the stairs to my front door.

Once inside my apartment, I put my groceries away as Taron disappeared into the other room.

“Hey, Taron?” I called.

“Yeah?” He answered.

“You do realize they just got god knows how many photos of me wearing your clothes?” I felt myself smiling as I put the last of the items away before leaving the kitchen. The living room was empty so I wandered to the bedroom.

Taron’s shoes were at the foot of the bed and he was sitting near the headboard. He grinned as he patted the spot beside him.

“Oh, no,” I said as I shook my head. “The deal was your bed.” I leaned against the doorframe and crossed my arms over my chest.

“Yes but your apartment is much cozier and we just got all those groceries,” Taron attempted to negotiate.

“Or we take some of that food back to your place since your bedroom has a TV and fireplace.” I smirked as I stepped into the room and opened the closet opposite of the foot of the bed. I pulled my backpack and grabbed a couple of shirts and my jeans, shoving them in the backpack. I looked around for my pajamas but didn’t see them. Just as I was about to move away from the closet, I felt Taron’s hands slip from my waist to around my stomach. He pulled me back and onto the bed. I laid beside him, my hair a mess of red against the gray sheets. “Can I help you?”

“You’re packing a bag,” he noted as he looked at me.

“Is that okay?” I asked, unable to look away. “I just figured if it got late, maybe I could just… You know.”

“You could what?” Taron was prompting me on but I could see the edges of his lips curling upwards. He chuckled before continuing. “Of course you can stay again. But is just one day’s worth of clothes enough?”

I flashed a grin before pecking a kiss to his lips and sitting up. I disappeared into the bathroom and collected the things I needed then returned the bedroom and placed them in the backpack. I threw more clothes in the bag and got my phone charger before finding Taron in the kitchen. He was looking down at my phone on the counter.

“Whatcha doing?” I asked, suddenly feeling nervous. My ex had always had a habit of going through my things when I wasn’t around and for a moment, I wondered if Taron had done the same. But he didn’t even know my passcode.

Instead he faced me and held up my phone for me to see my lock screen. It was the photo of us from the night at Abbey Road. My face got hot as I stood there. All I could do was give him a little nod. I couldn’t quite read his expression until he reached into his pocket and retrieved his own phone, holding it up for me to see. The same photo was on his screen.

I giggled and took my phone from him. He helped me get some of the things I had got at the store and bagged them up again before we left my apartment and returned to Taron’s car.

Back at his apartment, I put the groceries away and made my way to the living room. Taron was on the sofa, one arm resting on the back of it. I walked to the shelves of vinyl and picked out a Queen record and put it on the player. I moved to the sofa and fell into it beside Taron.

He looked at his arm on the back of the sofa and then to me, a smile on his face. “You just make yourself comfortable, don’t you?”

“Looked like an open invitation to me,” I answered, my voice smooth as I shrugged.

Taron chuckled and gave a small shrug of his own. “I suppose that’s fair,” he said as he let his arm drop onto my shoulders. His hand slid down to my waist and I could feel his fingers pressing gently against my side. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

I looked at him, my eyebrows furrowed in curiosity. “For what?”

“The paps.”

“That wasn’t your fault, Taron. How would you have known they’d be there?”

“I know, I know but I just feel you had to experience that so soon.”

I shrugged and leaned into his side a little. His fingers pressed a little harder into my side. “Part of the movie star life, right?” I asked. I heard Taron scoff beside me as I smirked. “I doubt I’ll ever be famous but at least I can pretend they were here for me.” At this, Taron laughed.

We sat comfortably for a while, just enjoying the music. I realized I hadn’t had much to eat as my stomach started to growl. I sat up and started for the kitchen.

“Are you going to just leave my side cold again?”

“Let me cook us some dinner and I promise I’ll keep your side warm as long as you’d like,” I laughed. As I entered the kitchen, I could hear Taron’s laughter. I smiled to myself as I got things ready to cook dinner. It wasn’t anything too special- just some pasta and garlic bread. Inside the kitchen it was hard to hear the record player. Either it was quiet or it had finished already. So I started some music on my phone.

Maroon 5 played as I moved around the kitchen, finding everything I needed to cook. I danced and sang along, letting myself get lost in whatever song came on.

I put the pasta in the water and set a timer on my phone before shutting my eyes and letting myself have some fun with the song. I opened my eyes and stirred everything that I needed to and checked the garlic bread in the oven before doing whatever silly dance move my body let out. I spun and practically screamed as my eyes landed on the entrance of the kitchen.

Taron stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms over his chest and his phone in his hand. The smile on his face was contagious. “Have you been holding out on me?” He asked as he sat his phone on the counter closest to him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I blushed and focused on the stove.

“Oh, I think you do, Rose. I heard you singing from the living room,” Taron said as he came closer. He hopped up on the counter behind me. I could feel his gaze on my back. “That was pretty good.”

I shrugged as I tried to focus on dinner. I finished the pasta and got the bread out of the oven. Instead of sitting at the table, we stayed in the kitchen. Taron stayed on the counter and I leaned against it near him. My music still played in the background, now having shifted to some rock band. I found my self singing quietly between bites of food, the whole while Taron sat with a smile on his face.

When we finished eating, I started putting things away but Taron stopped me. “Nope. You cooked, I’ll clean. Go grab a movie and I’ll be in in a few.”

I nodded and left the kitchen, grabbing my backpack from the entry way. I walked to the living room and skimmed over the movies before grabbing a couple and walking back to the bedroom. I reached into my backpack and found my pajamas. I quickly changed into the pajama bottoms before realizing I still had Taron’s shirt on. That wasn’t changing.

I removed my contacts and slid my glasses on before putting a movie in the system and crawling into the bed. I sat near the middle with my phone in my hand, just scrolling through whatever looked interesting.

“You’re adorable.”

I looked up and saw Taron in the doorway. I smiled as he came into the room and walked straight to the bathroom. He came out in his pajama pants and the same shirt. “You’re not so bad yourself,” I remarked as I put my phone on the nightstand.

“I see you’re still in my shirt,” Taron commented. He climbed into the same side of the bed as the night before.. “And you brought back the glasses.”

“I see you’re still in a shirt,” I teased. “I hate my glasses. Just figured they’d be better than falling asleep with contacts in.”

Taron’s cheeks now showed a shade of pink at my comment before he allowed himself to laugh again. “I like your glasses.” I watched his fingers toy with the hem of his shirt. “Something tells me I’ll be left cold again if I leave this on.” I shrugged in response and watched as he pulled his shirt off and tossed it to the floor.

I found myself molded to Taron’s side again. We fit perfectly together as we laid there. My head between his chest and his shoulder. My eyes were on the TV but I wasn’t watching. Instead I watched as Taron’s chest rose and fell under my hand.

“I like this, Rose,” Taron said quietly. I counted as he pressed kisses to the top of my head- one, two and three. “I like you.”

I froze beside him. Simple words that I had been thinking for a few days had been said out loud by him. There was a little panic in my mind so I forced out the only thing that I could. “I couldn’t tell by the photo of us on your phone,” I said, joking at the worst time.

Before I knew it, I was on my back and Taron’s arms were planted on either side of me and his face was above mine. “Would it be so hard to say you liked me too?” I gulped, unable to move as I met his eyes. “It’s okay to tell me.”

I nodded slowly before pushing myself up a little, my face now inches from his. “I just… I don’t want to mess anything up,” I said quietly.

“You could never mess this up,” Taron answered before kissing me again. “By the way, that’s two to one, Wesley. You should really step your game up.”

[boy-blu3]

Photography- Peter Parker

Author: nerdymoose

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: A simple return of a camera lens reveals Peter's biggest secret...

Warnings: Peter being an absolute dork. Fluff.

A/N: This is similar to how Ned found out about Peter. Requests are always open! Especially during quarantine. Feedback is always appreciated. Comments, likes, and reblogs are ALWAYS great, don't be afraid! Stay safe! I hope you like it! (✿ ♥‿♥)

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

Peter was studying with Ned, at least that's what Y/n was told. So it wouldn't hurt to just stop by and return his lens, right?

Y/n knocked on the door to his apartment, knowing May was home but would be leaving soon for work. The door swung open to a very out of breath May. "Hey, honey. Come on in." She stepped aside letting you in.

"Running late again?" Y/n asked, it was a normal occurrence for May to be running late.

"Is it that obvious. I still have to get my hair and makeup done and I only have 15 minutes." She said rushing to her room, while Y/n followed. "And I can't seem to find my shoes."

Y/n frowned, she didn't like to see May stressed. May was like a mother to her ever since the fourth grade, when she met Peter. "Well, how 'bout I do your hair while you're doing your makeup? And I know where your shoes are. With a little team work we can get you to work on time."

"I swear you're an angel. How do you know where my shoes are? I've been looking for them for the past hour." She walked into Peter's room, grabbing them, walking back out and giving them to May.

"Peter said you would lose them, so he put them in his room so he'd know where they are, but I guess he forgot to give them to you before he left. But that's why he also told me just in case he forgot."

May gave her a look, a look that Y/n couldn't read, it kinda scared her until, "when are you going to marry my nephew?"

Her cheeks turned bright red, she let out a nervous laugh. "I-I-um we're running out of time, let's get your hair done an-and stuff." May smirked at her sudden change of subject but walked into her bathroom nonetheless.

A comfortable silence fell over them, Y/n French braiding May's hair as she did her own makeup. By the time Y/n was done May had also finished, May checked the time on her phone. "Just in time. Bye, honey, I'll see you later."

"Bye." May closed the door on her way out. Leaving Y/n alone, with her own thoughts. She blushed again at the thought of marrying Peter.

She hated her feelings, she had the fact the she could only admire Peter from afar. She knew that Peter didn't feel the same way, how could he, he was sweet, kind, smart, and extremely good looking. He was everything. And to her, she was just an average girl, that there was nothing special about her.

She sighed, grabbing her camera bag and walking to Peter's room. Not hearing the window to his room open, she pushed open his door and saw Peter pulling off his mask that went with the rest of his suit.

She froze, not believing what she was seeing. Peter is spiderman. Her camera bag dropped out of her hand, long forgotten. The noise it made when hitting the floor startled Peter, he turned around and went pale.

"You're spiderman?!" She shrieked.

"No l-um-" He knew that he couldn't run, he just stood there, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"My best friend is spiderman. And don't lie to me. You can't lie to me. For how long? Who else knows? Does May know? I know Ned knows, he knows everything thing. You risk your life everyday without my knowledge! When were you going to tell me? Is this what the Stark internship is?" She stopped pacing the floor, looking at Peter, realizing that she was rambling. She knew every answer to every question, knowing Peter for so long she knows how he thinks.

She took a deep breath, calming down. "So do you make the web fluid yourself?"

Peter, still in shock, nodded. "You can't tell anyone. No, may doesn't know, she would freak out. I didn't want you to know because it could put you in danger."

"I wouldn't dream of tell anyone, Peter. You have an A.I. connected to your suit right? I mean, I know Tony Stark made your suit and I wanna know if I can be contacted when you get hurt."

He chuckled, loving the fact that you want to protect him no matter what. "Yeah there is, her name is Karen."

"Good. Now I have a reason to build a map of the city and I'll put a seperate tracker in your suit, so I can track you around the city and tell you what places to avoid and what places to be." She grabbed a notebook and started sketching her ideas, making prints on how she going to build it.

"Y/n, I don't know if Mr. Stark is going to be okay with that." He said nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

"He decided to make my best friend an Avenger, he's going to have to deal with it. Oh, by the way I came here to return your lens."

Y/n didn't notice that Peter was staring at her until she looked up at him and met his gaze. "What?" She chuckled.

"Do you know how much I love you?" Peter said, with his newfound confidence. But what he said made her turn 10 different shades of red, setting her notebook down.

"Wh-what?"

"I'm serious, you're extremely smart, funny, beautiful, and I love your level of sarcasm. But what I love mostly is your need to protect the ones you love. If you don't love me back that's fine, I just couldn't hold it in anymore."

Y/n smiled so big her cheeks started to hurt, which made hope shine in Peter's eyes. "Really?" She asked, " 'Cause even though I've never been that good with emotions, especially love and I keep some of my walls up, you know why. I love you too. I have for a long time, now. I mean, how could I not, look at you, you're everything every girl wants." She looked everywhere but him, not wanting to gauge his reaction to her, what she was a crappy confession.

As she was talking Peter had moved closer to her, she didn't notice. She gasped when he grabbed her waist, not expecting him to be so close. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his shoulders, fingers tangled in the short curls on the back of his neck.

"Can- can I kiss you?"

"You know I always say there's no such thing as a stupid question but that right there is a stupid question." She chuckled, pulling him impossibly closer, their lips barely touching. He rolled his eyes, but the smile never left his lips, "so the answer is yes, please kiss me."

Peter didn't need to be told twice, his lips met yours. It was slow, sweet, passionate. Everything Y/n ever dreamed of, his lips were as soft as they looked, he tasted like fresh mint, it was intoxicating. There was so much love in just one kiss that it made her head spin.

They pulled apart, the burn from the lack of oxygen became too much. They pressed their foreheads together, "will you be my girlfriend?"

"Again with the stupid questions, Parker." She laughed.

"I'll take that as a yes." He pulled her in for another kiss. "I love you." He mumbled against her lips.

"I love you too."

[sunshinejs]

Comfort

okay anon, I’m a whore for those kinda concepts too but this may not be the best so I’m sorry in advance 😭

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Word count: 1.9k -ish

You felt embarrassed.

You sat at a table for two; waiting in the restaurant that your date requested to meet up at for over an hour and he failed to show up. No calls, no texts, no nothing.

He stood you up.

The waitress came up to you for the second time that evening, a sympathy smile on her face “Hey honey, do you wanna go ahead and order something?”

You shook your head and your cheeks turned red from embarrassment “No, I think I’m going to leave” You told her “I’m sorry for holding up a table… I didn’t think I was going to be stood up”

“Oh honey, don’t worry about it” She said nicely “I’m sorry that idiot stood you up. You don’t deserve it”

You smiled warmly at her, standing up from your seat “That’s sweet of you. I hope you have a good evening”

As you headed for the exit of the restaurant, you called for an uber back to your shared apartment with your 3 best friends.

Connor was sat in the living room; watching a movie on his laptop alone that night. Liam and Jessica were out for date night, he had no idea where you were since he hasn’t seen you the entire day. But when you walked into the house with your shoulders slumped; Connor knew something was wrong.

“Hey” He greeted you, pressing pause on his laptop as he took out his earphones.

You jumped back in surprise; thinking no one was going to be at home right now. You plastered on a fake smile on your face and went over to the couch to join him “Hi Con. I thought you had a shift?”

“They let me off early today” He shrugged as he places his laptop on the coffee table. He then takes in your outfit and raised an eyebrow curiously “Where’d you go dressed so fancy?”

You looked down at the dress you were wearing and shook your head “Nowhere. Just went out” You answered flatly.

Connor frowns and reaches for your hand, resting his hand over yours “Honey?” He asks softly, noticing you were avoiding his gaze. His other hand went to cup your chin so you looked up at him and that was when he noticed the tears in your eyes “Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked worriedly.

You chuckled softly as you quickly rub the tears from your eyes “It’s stupid, Con”

“It’s not stupid if you’re about to cry over it” He frowned “Come on, you can talk to me”

You let out a sigh “Do you remember Jordan?”

“Jordan?” He repeated, thinking about it for a second before it hits him “Jordan from our psych class?”

You nodded and sink back in the couch “Yeah well, he asked me out tonight then stood me up”

Connor had a weird feeling in his stomach and he knew it had something to do with another guy asking you out.

Connor frowned at how upset you were. He hated to see you sad; always wanting to see that beautiful smile of yours constantly.

He tugs you closer to him and let you rest your head against his shoulder “I’m sorry he did that to you, hun” He said softly “But he’s not worth your tears, though. It’s that idiot’s loss for forgoing to spend a night with an incredible woman”

“I’m not even that upset Jordan stood me up….” You admitted “It just got me thinking that I’m never ever going to find someone who’s going to want to love me and do all those cheesy shits together, you know? And that sucks”

Hearing those words hurt Connor because he knew he was someone who could love you for who you are and would try his best to make you the happiest person, if you let him.

But then again, Connor has always been afraid to express his feelings for you, despite Jessica and Liam encouraging him to do so, because he was afraid it would make things awkward between you two and he would lose his best friend.

And let’s face it; Connor would rather hide his true feelings than to lose an amazing person like you.

“Hey, listen to me y/n” He ordered lightly “You’re going to find that someone, hun, because any guy would be lucky enough to have you. Someone is going to love you and be there for you through ups and downs. He would be the cheesiest person only for you because he’s just that whipped. You’re gonna feel that type of love, y/n. I promise”

You were so glad Connor wasn’t looking at you right now so he couldn’t see your cheeks heating up by his words.

He’s just saying that to make you feel better. You thought to yourself. Don’t get your hopes up.

“How do you always have the right words to say?” You questioned “Literally every time I come to you with a problem and you would come up with something and I’d feel less shitty”

He laughs softly, “Because I’m your best friend, honey. I know you better than you think”

It was quiet between you two for a few more minutes before he spoke up again “What are you doing on Friday night?”

You lifted your head from his shoulder so you could look at him “I don’t think I have anything planned… Why do you ask?” You ask confusingly.

Now or never, right? Connor thought to himself.

“Let me take you out to that carnival in town?” He asked with a shy smile.

“You want to take me out?” You ask hesitantly; surprised at his offer “Why?”

Idiot! You yelled internally. If Connor wants to take you out, the best thing to do is be nice and say yes!

“I figured you deserve to go on a date after that idiot stood you up” Connor explained, feeling self-conscious suddenly by the way you reacted “It’s okay if you don’t want to, y/n… I totally get it”

“No!” You quickly answered, mentally face-palming yourself for giving him the wrong impression. You smiled, reassuring him “I was just surprised by your offer, Con… I would love to go to the carnival with you”

“Okay, cool, cool…” He nods, mirroring your smile “We can go at 7pm? Is that okay with you?”

“That’s perfect, Con”

xxx

“So, you and Connor” Jessica smirked as she watches you do final touches on your makeup from your bed “It’s finally happening!”

“Jess,” You let out a whine, picking up your favourite shade of blush with the appropriate brush to apply over your cheek “It’s just a friendly date”

She snorted, rolling her eyes “Okay sure, babe. Like we don’t see how you two look at each other”

You shrugged your shoulders “Yeah, okay, I may like Connor more than a best friend but I don’t know how he feels about me”

“Oh y/n, I just know how he feels about you” She smirked.

There was a soft knock on your door just as you dropped your makeup brush, “Yeah?” You called.

“Hey, you ready?” Connor asks from the other side.

“Yeah! I’ll meet you out in a bit!” You called out once again, hearing him hum in respond as he walked away from your door.

“Have fun!” Jessica chirped as you picked up your sling bag from your study table “Let me know how it goes later?” She smiled.

“Sure” You nod “If you and Liam aren’t too busy doing other things” You wink; laughing as she flipped you off.

You met Connor by the front door; he was leaning against the wall while typing away on his phone. You cleared your throat as he looks up, smiling widely.

“Hi” He greeted, slipping his phone into his jean pocket “You look really good, y/n” He complimented.

You blushed in return “Thanks Con, you do too. I love the jacket”

“Have fun kids!” You two hear Liam call from inside the apartment “Brashier, I want her back by 11pm!”

You and Connor rolled your eyes as you shouted back “Fuck off, Liam!”

Connor offered his arm out to you and you looped your arm through his; walking out of the apartment together.

“You locked Dylan up in your closet?” You ask, laughing out loud as you two were walking around the carnival “Why?”

“Because he destroyed my lego building!” Connor whined “But I got in trouble with my parents after that. I couldn’t go out to the park for a whole week”

“Oh my God, you locked your brother up because he destroyed your lego?” You asked in disbelief “You’re really something else, Brashier”

You continued giggling at his childhood stories, occasionally feeding him the cotton candy he bought for you two to share. You were having such a good time with Connor, like you always have, but this time it was different. You both agreed to call this one a date and whether you would admit it or not; that meant something more than being just best friends.

When you two passed by a photobooth, your eyes lit up.

“Can we?” You pleaded, pointing towards the booth “I haven’t done one in so long!”

Connor chuckles, nodding as he lets you drag him into the booth. You two did a bunch of goofy poses for the first three but for the last one; Connor unexpectedly leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek while you were smiling at the lens.

“Oh, they came out so good!” You commented after two copies of the photo strips were printed out “We look cute”

“We do” He grinned.

The next stop was the Ferris wheel. There was a que when you got there and 10 minutes later, you two sat in the small carriage as you waited until you were on the top.

“It’s so pretty” You sighed happily at the view of the city at night; the time of day where all the buildings were lit up.

“Yeah” Connor agreed after snapping a quick picture of it on his phone “It really is”

“Hey,” You call softly and he turns to look at you “Thanks for taking me out tonight” You smiled, “It’s been really great”

Connor mirrors your smiles “It’s my pleasure, y/n. I enjoyed myself too. Always a good time whenever I’m with you”

Your cheeks heated up as you fiddled with your fingers nervously “I feel that way about you too” You admitted shyly.

Connor looks into your eyes and you find yourself getting lost in his ocean blue eyes as he leans in closer to you and finally presses his lips against yours. You immediately kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

You were the first to pull away a few moments later as Connor rests his forehead against yours. You two couldn’t stop smiling; both still feeling on cloud nine from the kiss.

“So…” He spoke up shyly “Is this gonna make it weird for us after this?”

“Hm, that depends” You said teasingly “I’d be pretty bumped out if you kissed me just to tell me that you just want to stay as best friends”

“Course not” Connor reassured “I mean you’ll always be my best friend but I’d really like it if you would be my girlfriend too”

“And I’d really like that too, Brashier”

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Reblog, like and give me your feedbacks! ❤️

x rina

[xuxibelle]

Butterflies 2

Pairing: Alex Høgh Andersen x Reader

Word count: 3,422

Warnings: Soulmate AU, fluff

Requested: No.

Summary: They say you can see your soulmate in your dreams… They also say when you see colored footprints when you’re near the other… What happens when Y/N finally meets her soulmate? Do things turn out well or does something bad happen like she expected?

You turned a corner to walk into another part of the garden and felt your heart begin to race as you saw the footprints leading to the other side of the open space where you couldn’t see. You took a minute to calm your nerves before you continued and did what Lexi told you, just breathe. Beginning to slowly walk again, you were looking around the garden as you walked in the direction of the footprints and rounded another corner to see someone facing away from you with a camera hanging off his shoulder. He begins to turn and you feel your breath hitch in your throat. You know it’s the same guy from your dream, you remember the side of his face. You move closer to the side of the garden wall as you watch him lift his camera and begin to take pictures of the butterflies in front of him, some flying, some perched on flowers or bird baths or other fixtures. After a few snaps, you see a bright blue butterfly, that had been floating up close to him for a bit, land on the side of his camera. You smiled as you watched him pull slowly back from the viewfinder, trying not to startle the butterfly, and smile as he watched the small insect on his lens. When he looked up from the camera, his eyes met yours.

You felt your stomach flip and suddenly you forgot how to breathe. You didn’t know what to do, so naturally, you panic and look away as you begin to walk around the garden again. You hear footsteps walking close to you and you feel your heart pick up again as you try to take a breath. You reach the end of the wall and can’t walk any further, so you stop and look around at the fixtures, statues and fountains around you as you try to calm your nerves. You hear the footsteps walking up lightly behind you and you take a deep breath as you close your eyes. When you open them, your eyes on the ground, you see the feet walking around to stand in front of you as you bring your eyes up to meet the most intense pair of crystal blue eyes you’ve ever seen. You feel your breath hitch in your throat as you watch him slowly smile at you. Tucking a strand of hair that’s escaped the messy bun on top of your head, you return his smile before he speaks.

“I’m sorry for just stepping in front of you like this, but I didn’t want to just grab you from behind and startle you,” you hear him say.

“I-it’s okay,” you say softly, amazed that you can get anything out at all.

“It’s you…. I-i can’t believe it’s really you…. You’re really here,” you hear him say with the biggest smile on his face causing you to blush.

“Yea,” you laugh a little. “I’m here…” you say as you wring your hands together. “I’m sorry… I’m just really nervous,” you explain.

“Why? What do you have to be nervous of?” he asks you.

“Honestly?” you ask him as he nods his head. “Well… I didn’t really believe in all of this until I started having the dreams,” you explain with a laugh. He nods his head in understanding before his eyes meet yours again.

“I know a few of my friends that were like that as well,” he tells you.

“Really?” you ask.

“Yea, then like you said, the dreams started and when they hit the footprint stage, they knew they couldn’t deny it,” he laughed.

“I knew before that, I was just nervous is all… I’ve never had good luck with relationships,” you confess.

“What makes you say that? I’m Alex, by the way” he asks as he holds his hand out to you. You lay your hand in his and walk with him as he leads you over to sit on a nearby bench in the shade of the trees.

“Y/N… Because they always ended badly… Either the guy cheated on me or abused me, sometimes they would even say that I didn’t give them enough attention,” you explain.

“I’m sorry you went through any of that. You absolutely did not deserve it,” he tells you with a look of empathy as he squeezes your hand.

“How do you know I didn’t deserve it?” you ask teasingly making him laugh.

“Honestly… because no one deserves to be treated like that,” he explains. You sat with him for over two hours talking before you see Lexi’s head peek around the corner of the walkway and smile at you. He turns his head to see who you wave at.

“That’s my best friend Lexi. She came with me on the trip for moral support,” you explain. “And for a kick in the ass when I need motivation,” you add causing you both to laugh. You wave her over. “Lex, this is Alex. Alex, this is Lex,” you say as you introduce them and they shake hands.

“Nice to meet you,” she says to Alex with a smile.

“You too,” he returns her smile.

“I don’t mean to interrupt. I just wanted to make sure everything was going good. I wasn’t even gonna come talk to you but you waved me over,” she laughs.

“Yea, all is good…” you say as you turn and look at Alex with a smile. “Just chatting… Getting to know each other, I guess,” you giggle as she nods her head.

“Do you want me to wait on you or should I go ahead back to the hotel…” she asks you, catching you off guard.

“Uhmmm… I don’t know,” you half laugh nervously. You felt Alex start rubbing small circles on the back of your hand, trying to help keep your nerves down.

“If you want, you can stay here with me for a while and we can talk some more, maybe grab some lunch here before we leave and I can take you back to your hotel?” he offered with a soft smile. You looked at Lexi who was biting her lip to reign in her smile before you looked back at Alex.

“Okay, yea, that sounds nice,” you told him with a smile. Lexi clapped her hands and you both turned to look at her.

“Well then, I’m no longer needed here. Nice to meet you, again. Y/N, see you later and have fun,” she said with a smile before she turned and walked away. You turned back to face Alex again.

“I have to tell you… I saw the footprints at my hotel,” you confess as you bite your lip.

“Really?” he half laughs as you nod your head. “What hotel are you at?”

“The Hollander,” you tell him as you watch him smile again.

“I’m staying there too,” he laughs. “I was wondering why I saw them there. I thought maybe they were just mine,” he confesses. You bite your lip as you look to the ground and slowly meet his eyes again.

“If I’m honest…” you begin slowly. “I sort of had a hard time breathing when I saw them,” you say with a giggle.

“Why? Were you worried?” he asks in a half laugh. You shake your head as you smile at him.

“No, just… nerves I guess. I mean… you had been in my dreams for so long and you were about to be in front of me… I wasn’t sure what I was gonna do,” you laugh.

“Are your nerves still bad?” he asks giving your hand a light squeeze.

“Not as bad as before, but yes, they’re still making their presence known,” you say with a laugh, making him smile.

“You ready for lunch?” he asks you, trying to get your mind off of it. You nod your head with a smile.

“If you are,” you tell him as he nods his head. You both stand and make your way to the cafe at the front of the gardens where you and Lexi had eaten previously. After deciding what you want, you choose a seat near the back and away from the rest of the people there so that you can talk and not really be bothered before you sit down and wait on Alex to join you. You send Lexi a quick text and let her know things are going well and you’re at lunch to which her reply is to put your phone away and ignore it. Just as you are tucking your phone back into your purse, you notice Alex taking the seat across from you. “Lexi,” you smile at him as he nods his head.

“Checking in?” he assumes as you return the nod. “So what do you say we play 20 questions while we eat? We can get to know each other a little more?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you say with a smile as you reach for your water and take a sip.

“Where do you live?” he asks.

“New York. You?” you answer and then ask him the same question.

“Love New York. And that depends…” he laughs.

“Depends… on what,” you laugh back.

“On what’s going on in my life, whether or not I’m filming or have a gig,” he explains.

“That makes sense then,” you tell him. “Where are three places you want to travel? Doesn’t have to be somewhere that you haven’t been.”

“Hmmm… I’d like to go back to Ireland when I’m not working and do touristy stuff there. I didn’t really have a lot of time to do much of anything there. Maybe Greece… and I’ll say… Italy. What about you?” he tells you with a smile.

“Me? Travel? Yea, right…” you laugh as you shake your head. “Not with my job… If I had the extra time and money to go… I’ve always wanted to go to the whole England/Ireland/Scotland area so I always count that as one,” you say with a giggle making him laugh and shake his head at you before you continue. “Then Australia and Denmark.”

“Denmark…? Really?” asks curiously as you nod your head shyly. “Why?”

“You really wanna know…,” you say as you feel your face start to flush.

“Of course…,” he nods his head with a smile. “I want to know anything you want to tell me.” You bite your lip as you look down at the table and take a breath before you let your eyes meet his again.

“The Little Mermaid…” you say quietly, feeling you face flush again as you watch his smile grow. “Can I ask why you asked about Denmark but not the others?” you ask as you tilt your head curiously, watching him bite his lip. This time, it was his turn to feel his face flush.

“Well,” he laughs quietly, “That’s where I’m from…” he says with a half laugh as he watches your eyes grow wide.

“You’re joking with me… aren’t you?” you asked with a straight face making him laugh and shake his head.

“No, not at all. When I’m not on some sort of assignment, that’s where I live,” he explains. You shake your head in disbelief as you stare at him and giggle.

“That’s insane…” you say quietly. “Who knew…”

“Maybe I can take you there one day…” he suggests, making you bite your lip.

“Maybe so,” you say with a smile.

“What to ask next…. Let’s see….” You watched his expression as he thought of another question to ask and lunch continued with you and him asking each other questions back and forth and you know you went over twenty but neither of you cared. Once you got back to the hotel, he made sure to walk you all the way to your door.

“This is me…” you say as you gesture to the door in front of you before you turn to face him again. He laughs as he rubs one of his hands along the back of his neck. “What?” you laugh back.

“I’m two rooms back on the other side,” he says with a smile. “We passed my room.” You shake your head as you smile back at him.

“This is all so crazy… I can’t believe we didn’t run into each other here,” you tell him.

“Me either, but I guess we just weren’t meant to… Not here at least,” he explains with a shrug.

“That’s true. That’s what Lexi would tell me,” you laugh. He reaches for one of your hands and weaves your fingers together as he looks at you with a big smile. “Thank you for today…” you say quietly.

“Anytime,” he smiles down at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You feel his thumb start rubbing small circles on the back of your hand. “Will you… meet me? Later?” he asks you quietly as he takes a small step closer to you. You bite your lip as you feel your heartbeat pick up and you raise your eyes to meet his.

“Of course,” you say with a small smile. “Just tell me when and where.”

“I’m not sure yet,” he half laughs as he averts his eyes from yours before meeting them again and smiling. “Let me see your phone,” he tells you. You reach in your pocket and hand him your phone, watching as he texts himself from your phone so that you both have each other’s numbers. “That way I can text you later and tell you where to meet me,” he says with a wink, making your face flush. “I’ll see you soon,” he says quietly. Seeing him lean towards you, you feel your breath hitch in your throat as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. You nod when he backs away, both of you with similar smiles on your faces as he walks towards his room while you open the door to yours.Walking in your room, you are immediately wrapped in a hug from Lexi before she pulls you over to the couch.

“Okay, spill,” she says quickly making you laugh.

“What do I say?” you ask as you feel your face flush.

“What happened? What’s he like?” she asks you.

“Nothing happened,” you laugh. “We talked the entire time… He’s… amazing, Lex.”

“Tell me stuff,” she begs, making you laugh again and shake your head.

“Okay, so he’s a photographer and actor, lives wherever he’s working at the time, but - get this - when he doesn’t have a gig… guess where he lives,” you say as you watch her as she shrugs her shoulders.

“Just tell me,” she laughs.

“Denmark,” you say with a straight face as you watch her eyes grow wide.

“You’re kidding…” she says in shock and you shake your head.

“No,” you laugh. “I told him the same thing. I thought he was joking me, but he’s not. He said something about maybe taking me there one day,” you tell her as you bite your lip.

“Y/N… I told you…” she says quietly.

“Lex…” you say nearly above a whisper as you look at the floor.

“Yea?” she asks.

“He didn’t laugh,” you tell her as your eyes met hers.

“You mean…?” she begins as you nod your head.

“When I told him about The Little Mermaid,” you finish. “Like the others.” Lexi started bouncing in her spot and clapping her hands, smiling, making you laugh.

“This is so perfect,” she giggles. “What next?”

“He asked me to meet him later tonight,” you inform her of your plans.

“When?” she inquires as you shrug your shoulders.

“Not sure, he’s gonna text me,” you tell her. “Oh… and Lex…”

“Yea,” she looks at you with an enthusiastic gleam in her eyes.

“The reason I saw the footprints here… He’s staying here. His room is two down on the other side of the hall…” you tell her as you watch her smile grow widely across her face.

“Y/N… this is beyond perfect… you’ll get to spend more time together being so close….” She nearly squealed in excitement. You and Lexi sat on the couch and talked for the next little while before you decided to take a shower and change clothes. You were walking out of the bathroom when you heard your phone chime with a text notification. You saw Lexi’s eyes light up across the room as you picked your phone up. “Is it him?” she asks excitedly.

“Yes, it is,” you giggle at her.

“Well… What did he say?” she asks you.

“He asked if I would meet him for dinner,” you tell her as you glance up at her.

“Well tell him yes, idiot,” she says with a playful glare.

“Shut up,” you laugh at her as you type out your response letting him know you would meet him downstairs when he asked. After dinner, you were walking down a hall towards the elevators when he reached for your hand, once again weaving your fingers together making you smile. You watched the numbers continue to rise as you passed your floor. “Where are we going?” you ask curiously.

“You’ll see,” he tells you quietly. The elevator doesn’t stop until it reaches the top floor. Tugging you gently behind him as you exit the elevator, a smile creeps on your face as you follow him down the hall to the last door on the left.

“The pool? I thought closed already…” you say confused. He turns to you with a smile as he pulls out a key card and swipes it against the card reader.

“I’m friends with the manager,” he tells you as he opens the door and lets you walk in first. You hear the door close behind you just as you walk out of the hallway onto the rooftop deck into the open night air. Smiling as you look up at the clear sky full of stars, you feel him walk up beside you and nudge your shoulder with his. He nods his head to the right and you follow him again as he leads you over to the patio area where the furniture is and you both sit on a plush loveseat near the edge of the deck. “I thought you might like the view from up here,” he explained as you both look out over the edge of the building from your seats. You sigh as you look around at the scene in front of you… moon reflecting off the water, waves splashing on the shore, stars in the sky, slight breeze on the wind. You turn to look at him with a smile.

“It’s perfect. Thank you,” you tell him as he nods.

“And I thought it would be a quiet place we could talk without being interrupted,” he continues making you giggle.

“This is true… Lex can be very nosey when it comes to me, but she means well,” you tell him.

“I’m sure,” he laughs. “Best friends are usually like that.” You nod your head and laugh in agreement.

“She’s very protective after what’s happened in my past,” you explain.

��And that’s completely understandable from what you’ve told me,but she should know that I’m not gonna do any of that,” he tells you.

“I think she does know that… I think she’s just being extra careful,” you explain as he nods his head. You sit and talk about everything you can think of for the next couple hours or so before you realize it close to midnight. “I can’t believe the time! Lex must be worried,” you exclaim.

“I’m sure she’s fine… She knows you’re with me,” he tries to calm you.

“That’s true. She knows I would find a way to call her if something happened since she made me leave my phone in the room,” you laugh.

“She made you leave your phone? Why?” he asked.

“She didn’t want me to be able to get distracted,” you explain.

“Ah, I see,” he laughs. “So she really is trying to look out for you.” “She just wants me to be happy,” you tell him as he nods his head.

“And are you…? Now?” he asks curiously. You take a breath and meet his eyes.

“Yea, I am,” you smile at him as he returns your smile. He takes your hand in his, pressing a kiss to the back before he stands up, tugging your hand to pull you up as well.

“Let’s get you back to your room… Make sure she’s not worrying,” he half laughs. You feel him wrap his arm around your waist as you walk back to the elevator and press the button for your floor. You look up at him as you feel his hand turn your cheek to face him, thumb sliding across. Just as you blink, you hear the elevator doors chime and they open. Leading you out into the hallway, he stops in front of your door as you turn to face him. You feel your heart flutter in your chest as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks quietly as he watches your eyes. You nod your head softly, eyes never leaving his, watching his lips curl into a smile. Leaning closer to you, he holds your chin between his thumb and finger as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. Your eyes flutter closed when your lips meet. In reality, it was quick, but it felt like it lasted for hours in your mind. He pulled back and looked at you. “Come with me?” he asked you. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“What do you mean? You were just leaving me to go to bed,” you laugh.

“No,” he laughs as he shakes his head. He leans his forehead against yours. “When I go home in a few days… come with me… let me take you there,” he says quietly.

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