#you know i wrote pt 1 a while ago on the laptop

[lemonduckisnowawake]

Ways to Say "I Love You"

ANOTHER FANFIC! Genshin again, but not because my friends are influencing me but because I was inspired by these two fics that probably remain one of my favorite Genshin fics to this day. And I also just like writing these kinds of stories/fictions. And I've had to sift through so much cursed, cursed content to get here (it was self-inflicted, btw. I am the caster and bearer of the curse.)

Nevertheless, I present to you 4 snapshots of 8 characters.

I

“What’s this, Master?” Shenhe says, tilting her head curiously at the new contraption Cloud Retainer—or, Xianyun, she should say—had laid out for her.

It was a cylindrical cannister of metal, with the top part cutting off for a curious mechanism not unlike the pump of a perfume bottle. It looked innocuous enough, and certainly had none of that innovative flair that Shenhe would expect of her master’s inventions.

“This is a device one has recently invented to keep away unpleasant and odious people,” Cloud Retainer explains, folding her arms placidly. “It works not unlike a perfume bottle, but rather than spraying it on yourself, you would spray it on an antagonistic assailant.”

Shenhe frowns at the explanation, taking the bottle at Xianyun’s invitation and shaking it. “There is liquid inside,” she notes.

“Indeed. The liquid within is a concentrated mixture of chemicals extracted from various natural sources, the primary ingredient being jueyun chillis. It is meant to incapacitate an offender for a little while without causing permanent damage,” Xianyun agrees, tacking on a breakdown of the new product. “I call it Jueyun Spray.”

Shenhe nods, still not comprehending. “And you’re giving this to me…? Why?”

Xianyun sighs and looks away. “One had heard of how you were not permitted to wield your polearm to deter difficult people within the bounds of the city, which is absurd. If a person needs a weapon to make their point known, then it is logical to employ such force.” And before Shenhe can agree or protest that, Xianyun adds with resignation, “But that is not the way of human laws, and as we live among them, we should respect them. However, this should be within legal bounds, as it is neither a weapon nor a poison intended to harm or kill.”

“I see,” Shenhe says, shaking the canister again. “Thank you, Master.”

“It is nothing to thank one for, but see to it that you use it well while you work,” Xianyun huffs, continuing to not meet Shenhe’s eyes.

“Of course.”

Neither of them notice the faint smiles that spread across both their faces.

II

"You're overworking yourself again, dear Acting Grand Master," Kaeya laughs.

For once, he's decided to come to the Knights of Favonius headquarters early. And if anyone (Amber) asks him the reason he would do something so out of character?

Kaeya glances at the sleeping figure of Jean, ponytail loose and hair frizzy, curled up in her arms over her messy desk and clearly dead to the world. Just to check that last part, he clears his throat and hovers over the Dandelion Knight.

Yep. Dead to the world.

Given all that, Kaeya has no problem in hoisting Jean up in a princess carry and setting her on one of the sofas. He himself yawns, feeling the exhaustion from staying up late, but decides the thick blanket Albedo crocheted once as an experiment is suited best to cover Jean.

Having carefully removed her hair tie and set her down in a comfortable position, Kaeya busies himself tidying up Jean's desk a bit. And if some stuff disappears to be shoved onto--that is, delegated to someone else?

"I just had some things to take care of," he blithely tells Amber later. "Nothing you need to worry about."

She clearly doesn't believe him, but she doesn't have any evidence to protest it.

And later, when Jean catches Kaeya and silently hands him a bottle with a Dawn Winery bottle on it?

"Oh? What's this for, Jean?" Kaeya will ask.

"Just for being an excellent knight is all," Jean will return with an artfully casual nod.

III

The sound of the mug being placed in front of Kaveh startles him out of his hyperfocus on the sheet of paper in front of him.

He almost complains about losing momentum when he spots blue-gold eyes quirked in something Kaveh doesn't want to call indulgent fondness but can't seem to think of anything more netural.

"You should take a break, you know?" Madame Faruzan tsks at him. "Youngsters these days have it so hard, having great shoes like mine to fill. It's admirable that you're working so hard, Kaveh. But rest is important."

Kaveh blinks owlishly, the words flying past his head. He almost nods and ignores her until he remembers he actually respects and likes the Haravatat professor.

Her words suddenly backtrack to fill his head, and he shakes away the remainder of his fogginess to smile.

"Thank you, Madame Faruzan. But you don't have to trouble yourself on my account, not that I don't appreciate it!" he says, firing off every clause like an alarmed afterthought.

Faruzan tsks again and lightly flicks the top of Kaveh's head. "Well, far be it from me to stop the creative flow of one of my talented juniors, but do rest and ask for help if you need it. We professors like to feel useful, too." Even if Faruzan is strictly not a Kshahrewar scholar.

Kaveh acquiesces amicably, fully sincere in his gratitude, even though Faruzan knows he'll die before asking for help or resting.

Ah, well, Faruzan thinks. She'll just have to check up on him from time to time. Maybe invite him out for a coffee someday. She could use some of his mathematical insight into her latest research...so she'll say and frame it as work to drag Kaveh out of his sketchbook and numbers, in any case.

Seriously, she sighs internally as she walks away to let Kaveh return to his blueprints, these children can be so troublesome.

She glances back briefly and catches Kaveh absently drinking the coffee she'd prepared for him.

When he smiles, Faruzan shakes her head. She's so soft, sometimes...

Ah, well, she admits to no one, I suppose this is fine.

No trouble at all, even.

IV

Sometimes, buried between the sheets of all of Neuvillette's work mail and papers and forms to look over and sign, Sedene would spot a colorful envelope.

Most of the time, it looked quite bulky, as if the sender had stuffed things that would be better sent in a package into the thick paper. Other times, it was paired with an actual package of dubious size and shape.

And all the time, it would disappear by the end of the day unlike the hills of official forms.

Today, the colorful envelope and package of dubious shape is accompanied by a colorful and familiar woman rather than the usual mailperson.

"Delivery for Monsieur Neuvillette!" the woman sings.

Sedene smiles a little. "Hello, Lady Furina. Would you like to come into Monsieur Neuvillette's office? He doesn't seem too busy today."

Lady Furina's beaming visage wavers for a split second.

It's a new look for her, the slight moments where she allows her true emotions to flicker across her face. But as if unused to clearly expressing her feelings, the flicker of "negative" emotion is schooled away swiftly.

To Sedene's Melusine eyes, Furina looks as strange and sorrowful as ever. There's a lighter air to her lately, however, and the dangerous darkness in her has disappeared ever since Fontaine's prophecy had come true.

"Ohhh, that's all right. I'll come bother him another day," Lady Furina dismisses airily.

"It's quite all right if you want to come in," Monsieur Neuvillette says, just having appeared from behind Furina.

Sedene observes Furina almost jumping out of her skin, but she schools it into a startled turn and rather pitched, "Oh, Neuvi - Monsieur Neuvillette! How are you?"

"I'm all right. And you, Lady Furina?" Monsieur Neuvillette replies, ever steady, though anyone who knows him can tell how his face softens and the tension on his shoulders loosens imperceptibly.

"Great! Great. I've actually come to give Sedene these to give to you later," Furina chirps, holding out her colorful mail out at Neuvillette.

Neuvillette takes the ridiculously ribboned lumpy package and envelope with a small smile. "Thank you, Lady Furina."

"Haha, of course. Let me know what you think of them," she says. "Your input is always spot on, you know?"

Sedene feels a mild twinge of curiosity at this and wonders at what the packages contain. But opening mail meant for another would be a horrible breach of privacy.

Monsieur Neuvillette, on the other hand, nods solemnly. "I always do."

Furina returns that with a vigorous set of nods of her own and edges away from the reception desk. "That's all then. Lovely seeing you, Neuvil - Monsieur Neuvillette!" she laughs, waving her hands in farewell. "Thank you again for everything!"

The Iudex does nothing but hum after her in return, a complicated expression on his face as he observes the former archon skip out of the Palais Mermonia. It's only when Furina disappears from sight that he greets Sedene with his ever-constant affection and makes haste back to his office.

Really, Sedene idly thinks to herself as she returns to the day's quota. She can't help but wonder why those two never say what's so clear to her to each other.

No big deal in saying, "I value your opinions and still want you in my life" or "I care deeply about your wellbeing and wish we could talk more."

No big deal in telling a dear friend three simple words.

Right?

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

#SavetheWinchesters pt.2

Summary - This is the long-time-coming sequel to my fic #SavetheWinchesters. After months of campaigning, they finally find out the network’s verdict.

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x reader

Masterlist | Part 1

A/N - We now all know the unfortunate fate that The Winchesters met with. So, thanks to a little reminder from @ozwriterchick (which was now ages ago…I’m so sorry this took so long!) of the original fic I wrote I’ve decided to finally follow it up. Sorry for the lengthy hiatus, life’s been hectic, plus I am working on something big that I’m hoping will be ready to share with you soon. Thank you for your patience and continued support, and welcome to anyone new! I love you all!!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You, Jensen and the rest of the cast of The Winchesters have been campaigning hard for weeks and now it’s finally time to find out the verdict. You have a video call scheduled with the executives later today. The anxiety for their decision and your husband’s reaction has had you tossing and turning all night. With the sun finally pouring through the windows you roll over and kiss his cheek as you wrap an arm over his chest and snuggle close. You feel him stir and wrap his arm around you as well. You hear a toilet flush down the hall, signaling that at least one of your kids is already awake. 

“That’s my sign to get up…” you sigh. 

“Or you could stay here a little longer. They won’t starve.”

“No, but I have to get them ready for school, otherwise they’ll be late because they’ll just watch TV or play with their toys instead of getting ready.”

“So responsible…”

“Someone has to keep this house running. You may pay the bills, but this place would be chaos without me.”

He leans over and kisses your lips softly, still half asleep. “And I hope you know how grateful I am for everything you do. There’s no way I could manage all this on my own, yet you make it seem so simple.”

“We do it together. Now come on, help me wrangle this lot and don’t forget you promised them you’d drive them to school. Plus, you’ve got that meeting later.”

You try to sit up but he wraps his arm tighter around you and holds you down to kiss you again. When he pulls away he asks, “About that…Will you do it with me? We are partners on this project after all.”

“Just on this project?” you tease playfully before pecking his lips. “Of course, I’ll do the meeting with you. We’re partners in every sense.” You peck his lips again and then get up. You throw on your robe, go downstairs to check on the kids and start getting them ready. You find them just as you expected, sitting in front of the TV watching the morning cartoons. “Alright, kiddos, who’s had breakfast?” As expected you don’t get a single response, they’re too engrossed in the Great Dane on the TV. You pour out a bowl of cereal for each of them and then let them eat in front of the TV. If nothing else, it provides a good distraction while you brush and style their hair neatly. 

Jensen finally comes downstairs, after showering and getting dressed for the day, and makes you both a coffee and toast while you make sandwiches and pack snacks for the kids’ lunches. You work together in perfect harmony. After years of not having him around often for these mundane mornings, you’re surprised at how well you fall into sync when he is. 

While he drives the kids to school you tidy up, get dressed, set a load of washing, and then set Jensen’s laptop on the kitchen counter for the meeting. Then, while you wait you scroll through your social media, checking on the status of the hashtag and retweeting some of your favourite posts despite knowing that the decision is already made, one way or the other. Still, you can hope. Also, it doesn’t hurt to boost the support for the show in case you have to start searching for a new home for it. 

You smile as you hear the alarm system beep off and on in time with the front door opening and closing. “How was traffic?” you call out as you listen to your husband’s footsteps getting closer.

“Busy…But I do enjoy that time with the kids. I missed it for so long” he says as he rattles the keys in the bowl.

“I know, but you’re home with us now. And even when you go again, we know you’ll always come back.”

Jensen sits on the couch beside you, wrapping one arm over your shoulders and kissing your temple. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He looks over at your phone. “I hope they say yes, today. I hope we convinced them…It’s such a good cast and crew and I have so many ideas.”

“I know. I hope so too…But even if they don’t, it was an amazing wild ride. They’ll all go far regardless. You know what the industry is like.”

“I know…Never get your hopes up. Everything is a blessing. Don’t put your fist through the drywall…blah blah blah…I just…”

You can feel him tensing up. You place a hand on his cheek softly, forcing him to look at you. You kiss his cheek, the tip of his nose and then his lips. You whisper against his lips, “I know. I love your passion and love for these people, but you need to calm down.” You feel him relax slightly as he kisses you back deeper.

“Thank you…”

When the alarm alerts you that it’s 10 minutes to your meeting with the network executives, you both get up and set yourselves up in front of the laptop. Your hand rests reassuringly on Jensen’s knee while his hand rests on yours. You wait in the video call lobby for them to join. Once they finally do, it’s a whirlwind; a rush of words that you can hardly process as you feel your husband tensing up and gripping your hand tightly to ground himself and likely stop his Dean from showing. Once you finally catch up, you try to save the meeting.

“Thank you for taking the time to consider us. We really appreciate this opportunity.”

Jensen gives them a polite nod before slamming the laptop shut and pacing around the kitchen. You give him a few minutes to walk off his frustration and calm down before you stand up and wrap your arms around him.

“I really thought we would’ve changed their mind. Did they not see? All the posts? All the support? How hard the actors worked?”

“I know…” You try to comfort him but he pulls away.

“I’m gonna go workout,” he says before storming down the hall towards your at-home gym. 

Your heartbreaks for him, you know how much he put into creating the story and world and how passionate he is about the up-and-coming actors. You text the main cast: Meg, Drake, Jojo and Nida to invite them to a video call in a couple of hours. You figure it’s best to give Jensen some time to work the frustration out of his system before talking to them. 

To keep yourself busy, you hang out the washing and start preparing dinner. When Jensen finally returns, he’s freshly showered and changed into a fresh outfit. He wraps his arms around you from behind and places his hands on yours to stop you from chopping the vegetables briefly. “I’m sorry…” He kisses the top of your head.

You turn around in his arms and wrap your arms around his neck, careful not to touch him with your dirty hands. “Did you apologise to the punching bag too?” you jest which causes a small smile to pull at the corner of his mouth. “It’s fine, Jens, really. I understand. I’m sorry about the show.”

“Me too. I guess I should call the others��let them know before they find out the hard way…”

“I’ve arranged a call in about…” You glance over at the clock. “Ten minutes now.”

He pulls you in for a soft kiss. “You’re so perfect.”

You do the call together, just like the disappointing one earlier, Jensen holds you tight for support. Once everyone comes online you and Jensen gently give them the bad news. You try to soften the blow by emphasising how well they did and that the cancellation is in no way their fault, but a disappointing result of budget cuts and the difficult times with the threats of industry strikes on the horizon. You both encourage them to keep auditioning and expanding their careers and skills. Then you finally finish by thanking them for their time and passion in helping bring your and Jensen’s vision to life and help with the campaign, even if it didn’t go the way you all hoped. 

After saying your goodbyes and shutting off the camera, Jensen kisses the top of your head and stands up. Then without a word, he slinks off down the hall. You shoot a sad smile at his back. Despite knowing the industry is rough, it’s been a long time since things haven’t gone his way. After 15 years of a guaranteed job and so much say in the character and direction, he’s not used to the pushback and being shut down. You know he’ll accept it and come back to his bubbly self in time, but it will take just that. So, in the meantime, you continue to do what you can; finish the laundry and dinner and pick up the kids from school to allow him some time alone to process everything.

When you get back home, the kids run outside to play. You cut up some fruits, put them on a plate with a few cookies and then wander out to the deck. You go to call the kids over to get some snacks but stop when you hear your husband’s soft voice and the perfect melody from his guitar. You smile and sit in the chair beside him enjoying the unexpected, accidental serenade. 

“She keeps on loving me

Loves me the way I am

She's not just along for the ride

She's my biggest fan

Lord, it's a little old piece of heaven

When we lay down at night

She keeps on loving me

And I keep on wondering why”

As he finishes the song he winks at you and you smile. “I stumbled on this song a while ago…it’s perfect for us…”

“Everything is gonna work out. It’ll be hard for a bit, sure. But there is an upside…” You look over at the kids playing on their swing set and then back at Jensen. “Until your next project, we can just enjoy a little time as a family without the looming thought of you having to leave for weeks or months at a time. I know they’ll be happy about that.”

“Yeah…That actually sounds really nice. Just us as a family, no looming deadlines or projects. We’ve never had that before.”

“New, unchartered territory. But I’m game if you are?”

He smiles at you and nods before calling out, “I’m gonna eat all these cookies!” He picks one up, opens his mouth wide and holds the cookie close to his lips teasingly. The kids sprint over and pout until he places it back on the plate. Once they sit down to eat, Jensen decides to share the news. “So, how would you guys feel about me being around a little more permanently for a while?”

[mmvalentine]

Just Fantasy pt 2 | Feysand

Read part 1. This part is literally just smut I already wrote plot in part 1 so I don't gotta do anymore... right?

It takes a hot second for Feyre’s lust-addled brain to click into gear.

Rhys stands behind her in the doorway, words dying out and throat working soundlessly. Feyre’s eyes go wide and she scrambles upright, mortified and trying make sure the blanket is fully covering her. But Rhys drops to his knees beside her, and grabs a hold of her wrists to still her.

“Wait,” he blurts out, and now that his hands are on her she stops moving. Rhys just looks at her, while Feyre struggles and fails to come up with an explanation that isn’t horrifying.

“You...” Rhys starts, and then stops. He licks his lips, and the movement is not at all lost on her. When Rhys speaks again, his voice is so low she almost misses it.

“Do you want me, Feyre?” he asks her. Feyre can’t speak, even now doesn’t want to admit the truth. But her body thinks differently, and her head is nodding ‘yes.’ Rhys’s gaze slips down to her legs, and he says, “what were you doing there?”

But he doesn’t wait for Feyre to answer before his hand is sliding slowly beneath her thin blanket, and his skin is so warm on her leg. He gives her time to pull away, and when she doesn’t, his fingers reach between her thighs.

“Like this?” he asks huskily. “Is this how you like it?” And then he circles over her clit where she was touching herself moments ago, and as worked up as she is already, a moan escapes her lips before she realises what she’s doing.

“Mmm,” Rhys mutters his approval. “Fuck Feyre, is this how wet you get when you’re thinking of me?” He’s working his fingers up and down now, and in the slickness it’s too easy for him to slide right inside her. She gasps and bucks her hips into his hand, and when she is finally able to look at him it’s not what she expects.

The slow, deliberate movements of his hand that knows exactly what it’s doing matches the self-assurance she’d imagined him to have. But she isn’t expecting the way his pupils are blows wide now. Isn’t expecting the rawness of the growl that crawls from his throat as she moves on his fingers.

"This is what you think about, huh?" Rhys asks her. He's watching his hand and not her face. "All these nights, just across the hall this is what you're up to." He adds his thumb over her clit and it makes her whimper. "You're going to be the absolute death of me, you know that?"

And then he leans up and kisses her, hot and hungry. Feyre grabs a hold of his face and kisses him back while his fingers pump inside her. She moans into his mouth and his hand gets faster, the blanket falling to the floor where Rhys is kneeling.

"Is this what you needed?" he whispers between kisses. "I wish you would have gotten me sooner." His other hand is coming up to cradle her jaw now, and Feyre's knees are falling further apart as she goes liquid beneath his touch. She is just wondering whether this is in fact just a part of her fantasy still when Rhys’s hand stops moving and he murmurs, “Do you wanna go to bed?”

Feyre’s arms curl around Rhys’s neck as she tells him “yes” like a confession. He slides his hands under her shoulders and knees and lifts her against his chest, standing and carrying her from the couch to his bedroom. He kisses her again as he walks, and Feyre has never felt so weightless as she does in Rhys’s arms.

Rhys’s room smells like him. Since her eyes are closed that’s the first things she notices, and then she’s being laid on cool sheets and his body is on hers. His muscles are heavier than she had expected, and the weight of him presses the air out of her. His lips are back on hers though, and she exhales into his lungs.

A second later Rhys pulls back a little so she no longer has his full weight. She can breathe better now, but still mewls in protest. Rhys chuckles, and pulls his t-shirt over his head. Complaints die in Feyre’s throat and her hands come up to touch his chest in ways she has spent countless afternoons in front of her laptop daydreaming about. Rhys shivers as she does it, and again Feyre is surprised by the little ways she affects him.

Rhys bumps his hips forward and Feyre loses her train of thought. The hardness of him between her legs brings a sense of urgency roaring back, and then her fingers are pulling at the button of his jeans and he’s kissing her with his teeth in her bottom lip.

“Since when?” Rhys asks her. His hands push at her tank top and are rough against her rib cage. He squeezes her breast and her nipple rolls against his palm.

“Since you came in here in a wet t-shirt,” Feyre replies, realising what he’s asking. Rhys laughs softly against her neck.

“For me, it was the day you walked through the front door.”

Feyre shakes her head, even as Rhys is tugging her flannel pyjama bottoms off, and they’re now grinding in their underwear.

“I don’t believe you,” she says, and the press of Rhys against the thin cotton of her panties is so hard it almost hurts.

“It’s true,” Rhys told her. “I’ve never been so speechless as the day you came for the inspection. I didn’t know whether to try convince you to stay or turn you away immediately for the sake of my own sanity...” Rhys trails off as his hips move, and Feyre knows she’s soaking through her underwear. She slides her fingers under his waistband and it’s all the encouragement he needs. He’s got them both naked in the next moment, and then he’s sitting back on his heels and ripping a foil packet with his teeth.

“Is that why you’ve been torturing me all summer, walking around like you don’t own a damn shirt,” Feyre says when he’s settled back over her.

“Torturing you?” Rhys repeats, and something wicked lights in his eyes. He rolls his hips and his cock slides up the wetness of her. “Would I do that?” He repeats the motion, and now that her pussy is bare to him the sensation is unbearable. Feyre’s eyes roll back in her head and her nails scratch at his chest. She tries to tilt to get him where she needs him, but he keeps teasing her.

“Maybe it’s revenge,” he says, “for the way you never wear a bra after 6pm and I’m trying to get work done.”

“Rhys please,” she breathes. Rhys’s eyes go black, and he stops moving.

“What did you just say?”

“Please,” Feyre repeats. “Rhys I need you.”

“Now I know I’m dreaming,” Rhys murmurs, and then pushes inside her.

Rhys is bigger than Feyre had expected and they have to stop several times for her to adjust. Rhys is breathing in short pants like when he lifts weights, and it has Feyre growing ever wetter for him. When he is finally seated all the way in, he looks at her with a kind of desperation that shocks her.

“Feyre,” is all he says, and then he’s moving and Feyre is losing her mind.

Feyre's legs wrap around Rhys’s waist and her heels pull him in further. Rhys laces his fingers through hers and slides their hands above her head. It’s a slow, viscous, molten thing between them and his tongue against her throat has her drowning.

“When you’re thinking about us,” Rhys says between strokes, “how do you have me?”

Feyre is not coherent enough to be embarrassed by the implication.

“In my fantasy,” she tells him, “you want me as much as I want you.”

A strange looks comes over Rhys’s face. “But I do,” he says, his hips speeding up. “You have no idea how much.”

“Show me,” Feyre says, and puts her mouth on his. He groans against her lips and then sets a pace so savage Feyre’s head falls back against the bed and she’s struggling to draw breath. The pleasure is paralysing and soon, she begins to feel dizzy. She thinks it’s the lack of oxygen but then quickly realises in fact it’s the spiral of her orgasm and she might have told Rhys she was going to come if she had the time. As it stands, she does not.

"Rhys I-" is as far as she gets before she’s shattering under him. And he’s not slowing down either, keeps up this ludicrous pace and it’s almost too much to bear with Feyre feeling so over oversensitized, and then she’s coming again and when she bites a bit too hard on his lip Rhys follows her over the edge.

Rhys collapses against her once it’s over and they lie for minutes in the dark before anyone speaks.

“I’m really glad your room got trashed,” Rhys says finally, and Feyre’s hand darts out to punch him in the arm but Rhys catches it and rolls on top of her again and this time he laughs as he kisses her, and it tastes so sweet Feyre's head spins again.

****

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @philosophorumaurum02 @story-scribbler @allthecolorsneverseen @asteria-of-mars

[ka-za-ri]

Descent Pt. 1

I told myself I was gonna take a break. I lied. I wanted to write a whole bin of Sin for Simeon. I’m sorry, not sorry at all. Let me know if you want to be a part of the tag list: Chapter Masterlist: Here Crossposted on Ao3: here Part [1] Part [2] Part [3] Part 4: [4] Part [5] Part [6] Part [7] Part [8] Part [9] Part [10]

Paring: Simeon x Reader Wordcount: 4,900 ish Genre: Smut Tags: Masturbation, Voyeurism, hints of dirty talk? Summary: Sent from the Celestial realm to observe and study humans; Simeon made a name for himself as the illustrious author of The Tales of the Seven Lords. After reaching acclaim for his first series, he's having trouble writing his next great hit. Good thing you're there for him as his manager and editor to help him work out the... kinks in writing.

Trip

The most dangerous aspect of humans was their innate ability to tempt even the most stalwart and steadfast of angels into a world of sin. Simeon was not immune to their ways, no matter how reclusive he became. It was easy to study them from afar, learning about them through numbers and sales numbers. The masses were easy to sway with a few pretty words. Blending in with humans was a trivial task for him. All he had to do was make a few public appearances for book signings and some launch parties for a new series; otherwise he was free to observe and study from afar. 

After the international success of The Tale of The Seven Lords, Simeon found himself feeling rather empty. He needed a new project to keep him entertained in the human realm. However, no matter what he started to work on, it didn’t inspire the same sort of passion he had for his older series. He needed a new genre, a new style of writing to refresh his passion for words. If he was going to make it in an ever changing market, he would need to adapt as well. Yet, no matter what genre he tried, every draft he came up with seemed too mundane and overdone. 

Everything except, for the temptation of writing something much more salacious than his last work. 

Just entertaining the thought had him on a slippery slope of falling from the grace of the Celestial realm. Sure, the strict protocols of olde had been loosened over the centuries. Many angels realized that enforcing perfect adherence to the standards of purity set so long ago no longer applied to modern times. Rules had been loosened and enforcement had relaxed to the point where Simeon was almost positive if he wrote an absolutely obscene novel, he didn’t risk losing his Celestial powers. 

The only problem was that he had no experience in the genre at all. He threw together a vague plot and outline, thinking it would be all he needed to inspire him. Surprisingly enough, the publishing house allowed for the drastic change in genre, confident that he would be able to create another best seller. Just having that much trust put in him made him want to succeed even more with the haphazard novel idea. 

But, despite his determination to make his new manuscripts lewd, he was at a complete loss as to what, and how to write them properly. The outline he presented to you seemed excellent on paper. Even if it had a few plot holes, you knew he could patch them up with a little work. So, it was natural that you would push the approval and leave him to his own devices to work on the manuscript. You were sure that an author of his caliber would be able to break into a new branch of the literary market without any issues. 

But, after several months of waiting, you had no contact at all from him regarding the progress of his new book. The industry needed proof of his work in order to justify their investment in him. Being so renowned, the pressure was on him to create something magnificent. You could only imagine the kind of stress he was going through and as his manager and editor, you were responsible for making sure he met deadlines. You hated to rush his process, but there was no way he could meet the dates set by the publisher if he didn’t give you something to work with soon. 

After trying to reach out to him several times by phone and email with little to no response, the only option left was to go to his abode and see just what he was hiding from. No other outline he submitted had passed so this was his one and only chance to continue his writing career. You patiently waited after knocking on his door, hoping he would answer and wasn’t going to ignore you any further. You knew how serious writer’s block could be; but you hoped he wouldn’t let that get in the way of being a professional. 

Luckily, the door opened soon enough and you were ushered in by an extremely tired and frazzled looking Simeon. He lead you to his office after you had taken off your shoes and changed into the guest slippers he offered. Simeon didn’t speak to you during the whole exchange, a shell of the soft spoken and attentive author you had come to know after so many years of working with him. He shuffled into his office, an obvious slouch in his posture and slumped behind his desk before gesturing at the empty chair across from him. 

“I’m guessing you know why I’m here.” You said and he sighed in resignation, burrowing his head in his hands and running them through his hair. You felt terrible adding stress onto him, he looked ragged, like he hadn’t slept in days. The bags under his eyes were so dark, they almost looked like deep bruises. 

“Yes… You want a manuscript…” his normally soft voice sounded hoarse and you wondered if he had eaten or drunken anything at all that day. “I’m almost done with the first draft… would you like to come and see?” He turned his laptop towards you and you started reading what he had so far. 

All seemed well and good at first. The characters were believable and the premise, though a bit cheesy, was definitely acceptable for the genre. The further you read, the more you noticed large gaps in his writing. Whole paragraphs seemed to be missing and sentences ended midway. Dialog was left unfinished and by the time you reached the end of the first chapter, it was a mess. You could already feel the inevitable headache you were going to get from editing for him. 

“Uhm…”

“Yeah, I know. It’s not my best work.” 

He tried to smile, but the emotion didn’t reach his eyes. You reached out to him and held his hand, rubbing your thumb in reassuring circles on his palm. “You’ve worked hard on it, still. What’s got you so hung up though?” 

He got a little flustered at your question, nervously running his hand through his hair and looking to the side. Writing such a topic with no experience in it was proving to be difficult for him. He could research all he wanted and consume all the media he could to aid him, but there was just something missing. His lack of knowledge was showing and he wasn’t sure how he could keep being composed about his failure so far. He gestured at the screen and shrugged, trying to get his message across without using words; but, when he saw your confused expression, he had to speak. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” he finally admitted. “I want to write this so badly, but I don’t know how to… describe the scenes the way I want to.” 

You sat back in the chair, crossing your arms over your chest and nodding. You could only imagine the difficulty he was having in producing the quality content you were sure he was used to coming up with. With deadlines looming above your head, you needed at least a chapter to submit to the publishing house so they knew actual work was being done. You sighed, trying to think of ways to jump start his creativity. The gloomy atmosphere of his office didn’t seem help. The lights were dim and the curtains were all drawn. It didn’t feel like a place that could invoke the imagery he was going for. “Let’s move somewhere.” you suggested finally. “Do you have a room with lots of sunlight? Maybe a change of mood will help.” 

“Ah… there’s the sunroom..” he said. “But I don’t know if just changing where I am writing will help the situation. If it hasn’t gotten done here, I doubt it will anywhere else.” 

“Just try it.” you encouraged, already unplugging his laptop and taking it with you. “It’s so gloomy in here, even I’m getting depressed just sitting around. Come on, which way is it?” 

“Ah… this way.” He said, shamefully shuffling out from behind his desk and showing you the way to the sunroom which overlooked a rather well manicured garden with a variety of flowers in full bloom. You marveled at the bright, airy feel of the room and took a second to really appreciate his choice in decor. 

“Wow, would have never pegged you as the kind of guy who gardens.” You teased, flopping onto the couch he had in there and lounged in its plush confines. Looking through the glass ceiling, you watched a few clouds drift by while Simeon got comfortable in a recliner in the corner of the room. You could tell he was still a bit frustrated, but you knew getting him some sun would do him good. 

“Well, when I don’t have any pressing deadlines, being with the plants helps relieve stress. It’s unfortunate that I cannot give you a tour this time.” 

“There’s plenty of opportunities in the future. They’re not going anywhere, and neither am I. You know I’m going to keep hounding you until your manuscript is finished.” 

He chuckled, nodding and opening up his laptop. You let silence pass between the two of you, going back to watching the clouds while the sound of his fingers flying across the keyboard lulled you into a daydream like state. You grabbed onto one of the large, decorative pillows he had on the couch, clutching it against your chest while you made up stories in your head about the clouds above. If you weren’t so stressed about turning something into the publishing house so soon; it would have been a perfect, calming afternoon. 

The clack of the keyboard stopped after a little bit. Whatever inspiration Simeon had when he entered the room seemed to have fizzled out and he was stuck in yet another rut, writing one word and deleting it over and over again. You sighed, turning to watch him as he gnawed on his thumb, mumbling to himself. 

“What’s not working?” You asked, your curiosity piqued. 

“Just… this scene… it’s not working. I can’t envision it.” He grumbled. Looking up at where you were laying on his couch, clutching onto the pillow, he was suddenly struck by a brilliant plan. The worry lines on his forehead disappeared and he broke out into a slight smile when he realized how he could get his creative juices flowing. “Help me… I need inspiration.” 

You sat up straight, ready to assist in any way you could. “Okay, what do you want me to do?” You asked. 

Simeon squinted, in the right light, you looked similar to the main character he had written. His plan could work if you reenacted the scene he had in mind. The issue was actually explaining the scene to you in a way that didn’t make his body feel overheated. He was already playing with fire by writing such a lewd book, pushing his limits further felt like he was sliding right down a slope heading towards a great fall. There was no other way, he reasoned. As long as I do not defile her, it’ll be fine. Taking a deep breath, he got up from where he was and walked over to you. 

“I need you to…. Uhm… Well.. how do I say this… I’m having trouble writing a love making scene and I need some… visual aids.” You blinked, processing his request and then looked him up and down, feeling your whole body heat up at once. You were sure you had kept your crush on him a secret. To have him ask you so suddenly to provide visual aid for an explicit novel felt like too big of a jump for you to comprehend. “Oh… Oh no, no, no. You don’t have to do anything with me.” He said, gesturing wildly when he saw you pointedly stare at his crotch. “You can just pretend that this is the ‘lover.’” He took the pillow from your arms and laid it on the couch. 

You didn’t know if you should have felt relived or disappointed that he wanted you to reenact a sex scene with a pillow and not him. It was all quite a bit to take in, but the desperate pout on his face was something you couldn’t ignore. And both your jobs were on the line. You sighed in resignation. “Okay, okay… But only because we have deadlines coming up.” You said. “You’re lucky you’re cute. I wouldn’t do this for anyone else.” 

Simeon smiled for the first time that day, hurriedly moving back to his computer and preparing to take notes on what you were doing. “I’m ready when you are.” he announced once he opened up a separate document. 

“You sure you don’t want me to just, you know… do you?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow as you started to undress. It was embarrassing for sure; but part of you relished in seeing Simeon so flustered when it came to the nature of lewd things. You wondered why he had bothered submitting such an outline at all when he wasn’t familiar with how to write erotica; but his determination to branch out to other genres had won you over in the end. It just fell upon your shoulders to show this man how it was done. 

“I… No… I can’t. I need to write.” He stuttered. Do not defile her, do not defile her. Her womb is sacred and not something you can toy with… Even if he wanted the first hand experience, he still had rules to abide by. 

“Alright, whatever you say. You’re the boss.” You shrugged, unbuttoning your blouse. “Don’t forget, part of the sexiness is in the tease.” You explained, taking your time to sway your hips side to side as each button came undone. Trying to seduce a pillow was so much more boring than trying to seduce Simeon. The things I do for this job… 

You made sure to waggle your ass as you peeled off your pants, tossing them to the side along with your blouse. There was something thrilling about being in a room made of glass. Any woodland creature that decided to come visit his garden at that moment would also get an eyeful of your progressively bare body. The rush of having Simeon watch you as you stripped had your heart racing. 

At the very least, you knew your efforts weren’t in vain. You could hear the furious clacking of the keyboard as you gave the pillow in front of you a sultry look. As lame as it all was, it was still rather arousing to know you were being watched by the man who you had crushed on for so long now. “Alright… sir. I’m going to need you to lay down. You have a problem that only I can take care of.” You said to the pillow. You tried hard not to laugh at how ridiculous the scenario was. It wouldn’t do to break the mood, especially when you could tell Simeon was definitely getting some writing done. 

You got back onto the couch, straddling the pillow between your legs once you were in nothing but your underthings. Licking your lips, you pretended that Simeon was under you and not the decorative cushion. If you closed your eyes, you could almost feel his lean body under your own, squirming in discomfort as you took control of the scenario. There was just something about how gentle and soft spoken he was that made  your heart flutter with the need to dominate him until he was a flushed, moaning mess. 

Using that fantasy in your mind, you slowly started to gyrate your hips onto the pillow, throwing your head back and moaning. “Oh yes…” You breathed, pleasantly surprised at the stimulation you got from the friction of your panties rubbing against your spread core. You hummed, content with the thought of Simeon holding onto your hips to keep your steady. If he wanted to watch, then you were going to give him the best show available. 

You grasped at your breasts, teasing your nipples through the fabric of your bra until they were sensitive little buds that made you gasp. As you continued to grind against the pillow, you could feel your essence starting to flow, no doubt you were going to leave quite a substantial wet mark on the pillow if you continued. You wanted to pause and warn Simeon of what was about to happen; but when you turned and saw the look of concentration on his face, you didn’t dare break his focus. 

He’ll just have to deal with it later… You figured going back to that happy place in your mind where the writer in front of you was actually under you. Closing your eyes, you imagined what it would be like to hear him moan as you pressed your heat against his cock. Surely he must sound absolutely angelic when he cums. Pushing slipping your hands under your bra, you pushed the fabric away, peeled it off your skin and threw it into a random corner to pick up later. “You have no idea how hot you look right now.” You purred, looking down at the cushions below you, wishing you had something sexier to talk dirty to; but you would have to make do with what you had. 

Leaning down, you grabbed a pillow to act as your ‘lovers’ head and started to kiss it. It was so hard to ignore just how disappointing it was to make out with a lump of fabric and not the beautiful man in the corner who was so engrossed with his writing, you might as well have been invisible to him. You could only use your imagination to fantasize about how soft Simeon’s lips must be. He always took such good care of his skin and he had an ethereal glow about him, as if he was blessed by the sun itself. You moaned into the pillow, hating the rough canvas you were pressed up against, but at least your pussy was getting something out of how much you were humping the pillow. 

You came up, gasping for air after having half smothered yourself with a pillow and glanced over at Simeon again. Even as he was furiously typing, you could see that he was at least a little affected by the show you were putting on. Good, I would have hated myself if he’s not even a smidgen turned on by this. You smirked, looking down at your ‘lover’ and pretended to whisper sweet nothings to them before getting off the couch. 

Simeon made a small sound of protest when he saw that you were no longer straddling the pillow, but he quickly shut up when he saw that you were divesting yourself of your panties. “Oh… carry on.” He mumbled, going back to his document, though his eyes continuously flicked up towards you to make sure he was capturing the moment properly. 

Feeling your bare pussy rub against the rough fabric of the pillow sent shivers of pleasure up and down your body and you moaned, riding it harder than before. The stimulation was great, but it wasn’t enough. Really, you wanted to have Simeon buried balls deep in you and not at his computer. However, your priority was your job and that meant sticking to what you had to work with. “Fuck…” You groaned, clenching your inner walls around nothing and wishing that you had at least a toy to fill you up and give you something to ride. 

You ground against the pillow, your essence soaking the fabric and leaving a sizable wet mark, but you didn’t care. It was all the stimulation you could get and you were going to work it for all it was worth. One hand went back up to your breast, rolling your pert nipple between your thumb and forefinger, whining at the mixture of pain and pleasure you were giving yourself. “Yeah… you like watching me touch myself, babe?” You asked no one in particular; but truthfully, you hoped Simeon was really enjoying what he saw and heard.. 

His fingers on the keyboard never ceased moving as he vividly described the scene before him. He was so wrapped up in his work, he didn’t even notice himself getting hard. There was too much to write and no time to think about the attention the rest of his body was asking for. He licked his lips, his gaze constantly going back and forth from the document to your body. You were acting out the scene so well, he couldn’t stop writing; he needed to record every detail. You were everything he had imagined his main character to be; effortlessly confident, commanding in the bedroom and dripping with sex appeal. Even if it was a spur of the moment suggestion, he had no regrets considering he was getting so much more writing done in the last half hour than he had in the past two months. 

Your breathing came out in short little pants as you tried to chase a release that just wouldn’t come with so little to work with. You reached between your legs to fondle your sensitive clit, groaning loudly as you made love to yourself. You didn’t know how long the scene was supposed to be, but your thighs were getting tired of riding an inanimate object and you just wanted to get off now. 

“Mm fuck.. You feel so good…” You breathed, closing your eyes and imagining Simeon sliding inside of you. The first pass must feel so good. You fantasized about lowering yourself onto his cock slowly letting him savor every inch that entered you. In your head, his bright blue eyes glittered in lust, watching his dick disappear into you until your hips met and he would moan at the feeling of being completely buried in you. “Yeah… just like that…” You moaned, rubbing circles at your clit while your inner walls clenched rhythmically at air. 

You went back to dragging your pussy across the fabric of the pillow smearing your essence all over to get as much out of the scenario as you could. Your fingers rubbed your clit harder, pushing you ever closer and closer to release. “Oh… Oh… I’m so close…” You whined, announcing your climax mere seconds before it happened. The last push you needed was looking over at Simeon and seeing him completely engrossed in what you were doing. His fingers frozen on the keyboard and his comfortable pants with a rather impressive tent in them. 

“Fuck. Simeon.” you cursed, cumming all over the pillow. Your fingers slowed their pace around your clit, rubbing your labia back and forth as you rode out the orgasm. You fell forward onto the pillows beneath you, still slowly humping them while you let the initial high pass and the afterglow set in. It wasn’t until the haze of pleasure passed that you realized you had called his name while getting off on his couch in front of him. 

Simeon swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way you called his name. Everything had gone smoothly until you had cried out for him while in the throes of your climax. He had stopped everything he was doing just mere moments before you did that; and now, he didn’t know if he had the mental capacity to continue with what he was writing. 

For once, he was tempted to throw away whatever celestial blessings he had to take you and be the real reason why you screamed his name. 

Shoving the indecent thoughts to the back of his head, he turned back to his document, writing a sentence and erasing it, repeating the action over and over again while his brain looped the beautiful image of you as you came on his couch. Now, he noticed the tightness in his pants, the obvious boner he sported as a result of such an experiment. But, he couldn’t be mad at it. He had achieved a groove in writing and he was sure he could finish the draft you needed in time.

Simeon let you rest a bit and gather yourself together on the couch. No doubt both of you were aware of the slip, but he could pretend it didn’t affect him as much as it did. Eventually, you had the courage to look back up at him, only to find him busily typing away at his computer. Sighing, and running your hand through your hair amused that he could stay so calm, you got up and started to get dressed. “So, I’m guessing moving somewhere else worked?” you asked, keeping your tone light. 

“Hmm… yes.” He agreed, half paying attention to what you were doing. He couldn’t bear to look at you while you were exposed and waited patiently until you were fully clothed until he made eye contact and spoke to you again. “I definitely got some good notes in. I’ll just need a little more time to flesh out some of the filler scenes and I’ll email you the draft in a couple of days.” 

You let out a laugh, surprised that he was able to focus on work still after what he had just witnessed. He truly was as innocent as he presented himself to be sometimes. “Alright, well. I’ll look forward to reading it.” 

“Will you be back?” he asked, looking at you with hopeful eyes. “You were so helpful, I think I might need more help for the rest of the book.” Not, like I want to see something like that again… No, I just need it for research purposes… 

“You know I’ll be back.” You laughed heartily, ruffling his hair. “I have to bother you at least once a month to make sure you’re on schedule to finish.” 

Simeon slouched into his chair and let out a soft laugh in relief. “Of course, how could I forget.” In his mind, he was already planning new scenarios for you to play out. There would be much more research to be done, and supplies to be obtained before your next visit. But, all those things could wait. For now, he closed his laptop, noticing how low on battery it had gotten.Time had slipped by him, the sun already well on its way past the horizon. “It’s getting late…” He commented, trying to change the subject to something a little safer than the masturbation session you just had in front of him. 

“Yeah… I’ll get going and let you work in peace.” In a moment of bold recklessness, you stepped forward and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “See you next time, babe. Can’t wait to see what you’re gonna make me do for you.” you teased, giving him a coy wink before showing yourself out.

As soon as the door was firmly shut, Simeon let out a deep sigh, laughing out loud at the predicament he had put himself into. He wanted to quit everything and dissolve into the ground. He wanted to continue writing and see your body writhe in pleasure. He wanted to also defile you and sate himself inside of you. Most of all though, there was a growing darkness within him, one he didn’t even notice just yet; and that part of him craved to see you put in your place to beg for him like the god he knew he was. 

Pushing all his desires down and curbing his lust for the time being, he moved his computer back to his office and let it charge for the rest of the evening. His mind still swirled with the image of your exposed body riding that pillow in the sunroom. The early evening sunset made your body glow with an almost angelic light; and for once, he felt jealous of an inanimate object.

Quietly padding back into the sunroom, he looked at the soiled cushion; feeling a surge of heat rush through him when he saw the wet spot you had left behind. Licking his lips, he approached it like it was a wild animal, tentatively poking at it. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend to still feel your warmth lingering on the fabric. He could feel shame rising up in him as he laid down on the couch, rested his head on the pillow and took a deep breath, memorizing the scent of your arousal. 

His hand reached down between his legs, slipping past his pants and to his hard length that needed his attention. Turning his head to smother his moans and to surround himself with your unique smell, he teased and pleased himself, putting himself in the scenario you had played out just mere moments ago. 

“Oh… oh fuck…” He groaned surprised at how little effort it took to make him cum and ruin his pants to the thought of you bouncing on his cock and calling his name. He was quickly falling down the deep end of temptation and he could feel the darkness of sin encroaching. 

The scariest part was the fact that he didn’t care at all. 

[catralvr]

I’ll make a cup of coffee for your head pt.1

Duncan x Gwen

Word count: 4788

Warnings: Smut (at the end)

Summary: In which Gwen goes into a new coffee because her usual one near her university is closed for the week and meets an old acquaintance working there. She finds herself going there more and more, getting closer to him again.

Notes: I know it might be bad but hey I wrote this because I had one particular scene in it going round and round in my head so. Enjoy. And yeah I’m gonna make a pt 2 bc it was starting to be way too long for me to write. And yes I stopped after That Part sorry

Gwen was standing in front of the coffee place, her laptop already in her hand, music going through her earphones, and pushed the door without even looking. The door didn’t budge. She frowned her eyebrows, not understanding why. She always came at that time, to work on her essays. She raised her head, only to be met by a sign saying that it would be closed the whole week for renovation. 

Fuck.

She groaned, put her laptop back in her bag and went away. Where the fuck was she supposed to go now? She had no idea where to find another coffee place as good as this one. 

She wandered for ten good minutes, looking for somewhere somewhat good. She wanted to drink her usual macchiato while eating her favourite chocolate muffin. Where was she supposed to go now. Since she wasn’t finding anything, she ended up going to the first one she saw. Didn’t seem to be a lot of costumers, which was good for her. Great, even. Nice, she’ll remember this place for future times, and for the rest of the week too. It was kind of far away from her place but she didn’t really mind, this would leave more time alone to Courtney and Heather, they’ll be happy.

She went to the counter while waiting for the barista to come back to her, took down an earphone to hear him while ordering. 

— A caramel macchiato with a chocolate muffin, if you have some ?

— Sure. That all ?

The voice. It seemed like she knew it... Her eyes which were glued on her phone, sending texts to Courtney and Leshawna saying she probably would be late for their movie night, looked up to see the green hair guy from that tv reality show she did, years ago. That show where she met Courtney and Leshawna, her flatmates. 

— Duncan ?

— Gwen ?

She blinked twice, making sure it was really him, before laughing awkwardly. She knew he lived in this town, it was big after all. And he was friends with Geoff and DJ, whom she still was close to (but somehow never saw Duncan again, maybe because of packed schedules). Nevertheless, she was still surprised to see him. Wasn’t expecting it. 

— Yeah that’ll be all, thanks. 

She held out her phone to pay with it, an awkward smile on her lips. What was she supposed to do now? Wasn’t like she had tried to stay in touch with him (not that she didn’t want to, only things happened which made it hard). 

— So um... Didn’t expect you to be working in a café. 

— Yeah, a guy gotta do what he’s gotta do to pay the bills.

He laughed, an awkward laugh too. The green-haired guy (still dyed his hair green? Good choice though, it suited him well) went to make her coffee, while Gwen stayed at the counter, waiting for her order. She felt too awkward to walk to a table as she usually did. 

— I have a band too, on the side, we do some gigs here and there but not enough to live off of it. And working here is nice, never too many people, customers are usually nice. Hot too.

A smirk going her way. She rolled her eyes, not being able to repress the grin appearing on her lips. Same as he used to be, not that she was really surprised. She liked that about him (maybe still do a little bit). 

— The other place I usually go to is constantly packed, might change and make this my study hangout.

— Please, be my guest.

She laughed, a real laugh this time, not really awkward. Yeah, she might make it her study place, especially if it’s empty like that. Oh, it was so weird to see him again. Especially since she thought about him from time to time, when she went on Instagram and saw Geoff’s and DJ’s stories. Even so, she wasn’t expecting it. Not when she was still angry about her favourite café being closed (even if it ended up being kind of a good thing). He handed her a plate with her coffee and the muffin on it, winked at her and then let her go to go see another costumer who came after her. She went on the closest table to sit, took out her laptop and started writing this goddamn essay she was supposed to hand it the next day. 

During the next two hours she ended up glancing at Duncan more than a few times, even if she wouldn’t admit it. It was strange that they hadn’t kept in touch but the way things ended with the two of them was way too... weird to keep on being friends. She kept in touch with some others, hell she was housemate with Courtney and Leshawna (Heather too, since she was Courtney’s girlfriend and was constantly at their apartment). Geoff too, Bridget by extension, but that was it. Total Drama was something she desperately wanted to erase from her mind. And she had somewhat succeeded, if it wasn’t for even people at her university going up to her and asking if she was the Gwen. Which was annoying. 

Once, she stood up to ask when the place was closing, Duncan answered 7pm. It was already 6. 

— Fuck. I needed more time. But it’s ok, I’ll leave when it closes thanks!

She was already walking away, ready to go back to that essay. She should be able to finish it by that time, if she stopped being distracted. She could do it.

And she did. Oh it was kind of hard, because everything was a good reason to be distracted. The squeaking of shoes on the floor. The sound of the coffee machine. But she finally was done with it and immediately sent it via email to her professor, was sure she wouldn’t forget it this way. When she looked at the time, she saw it was already way past 7pm. Which she didn’t understand, because she wasn’t asked to leave. She groaned, mad at herself for not having put an alarm, Duncan probably was cleaning and forgot to ask her to leave, but still. She felt too bad about staying overtime, maybe he was doing overtime because of her. 

She walked around the room, to find him. Say goodbye before leaving, apologise about staying so much longer. It already half past seven. It let more alone time to Heather and Courtney, but still. She shouldn’t have overstayed. 

He wasn’t in the main room, maybe in the back cleaning. But she didn’t want to venture where she wasn’t allowed to. She ended up taking a piece of paper and write a thank you note on it (and her number, just in case). She then left, ready to walk back to her apartment. She was still surprised she saw him again, in a fucking café ? Who would’ve thought the Duncan she met when they were 16 would end up working there. But five years had passed, so it was to be expected. Even herself, even the girls with whom she stayed in touch. They all changed, partly because of that damn show, partly because they grew too. You change a lot between 16 and 21 and she was only now realising it. Well, she did before, but it hit her. 

She wondered how much he had changed, she hoped they would be able to get back in touch, she didn’t leave her number for nothing. Well. She’ll see. Now, she needed to get back without getting lost. 

She ended up being able to do it, came back to Courtney and Leshawna watching a movie they had already watched at least ten times.

— Yo.

— Hey, sorry we didn’t wait for you. You were taking too long. There’s some lasagna left in the oven.

— Thanks Leshawna!

She was too tired to even argue about them not waiting for her, was only glad Heather wasn’t there. Not that she still despised her, she ended up being kind of close to her. She just didn’t want to come in to her and Courtney making out on the couch, thinking they were alone.

Once.

Not twice.

Once her lasagna heated, she went back to living room and sat on the couch, watching the movie with them. Didn’t matter how many times they watched it, they still laughed the only better thing was that now they could say every line about that movie.

Her hair was tied up in a bun (she had let it grown up to a bit under her shoulder blades but still dyed it black and teal, because it became an habit and couldn’t bear seeing herself with her natural brown hair) as she was lying on her bed, reading a book recommended by her teacher. She usually did that every night before sleeping, got her tired, best way to fall asleep. She was starting to get sleep and put her book on her nightstand when her phone went off. With a sigh she took it and sat on her bed, unlocking it. A text from an unknown number? Eyebrows frowned she opened it.

got your note, wanna hang out later?

OH! It must’ve been Duncan! Gwen had lost a bit of hope, seeing he still hadn’t sent her a text. “Later”.

yeah sure! tell me when you’re free we’ll see

She then put her phone facing down, so she wouldn’t be bothered by the light, and went to sleep.

The next day, she went back to the café place after her classes were over. They exchanged a bit of texts with Duncan during the day, mainly to try and figure out a day to see each other. Which ended up being hard. The only time was during Geoff’s next party (which would make Leshawna more than happy, she had been trying to get her to go since forever). Maybe another time, if any of their plans got cancelled. Or like, his gigs. Since he was playing almost every night, to try and make his band more known. Or she could go to one of his concerts. 

She usually wasn’t up for those type of stuff, you never knew if they were really good or not and having to lie to people... She shivered just at the thought. Anyways. She barely met him again, why was she thinking about all that. It was dumb. They hadn’t talked in years. Since they broke up, after Total Drama.

Maybe because you still have... feelings for him.

She shook her head as those thoughts rushed through her head. 

Nuh-uh.

No way.

Not going back that path.

Unless...?

NO!

She slapped herself, putting her thoughts back in place.

They weren’t even friends anymore. 

She would focus on that.

Being friends with Duncan again.

She pushed the door to enter the coffee place, took out her earphones and went immediately to the counter. Just like the day before, Duncan was there. He looked up from whatever he was doing and smirked at Gwen.

— Missed me already ?

— Yeah, you’re so irresistible I couldn’t stay away from you for longer.

— Knew it. I do that to people.

A smile made its way on her lips as she ordered the exact same thing as the day before and went to sit, waiting for her coffee to be ready. This time, she took out a book instead of her laptop. She had already done all of her homework in advance. She still came, though, because she liked to have a part of the day where she could just rest, be alone for a little while. And this place was so much quieter than the other one. It was a good thing it closed for the week, in the end. Otherwise she would've never found this place.

A plate got laid down in front of her, which made her jump a little bit. Oh. She almost had forgotten about her order.

— There you go. Put a little extra on your coffee. And don't need to pay, it's on me.

She was ready to argue with him but he sat down, crossed his arms on his chest.

— Don't say no. Not letting you a choice.

— Ok. Won't complain.

She took a sip of her drink. Coffee was her addiction, she could never get enough of it. Caffeine didn’t even work on her anymore, her body had gotten used to it. And the fact that he put whipped cream on top of it was really appreciated. 

She was ready to get back into her book, only to have it taken away from her as Duncan sat down on the other side of the table, his elbows on the table. 

— Aren’t you supposed to work? said Gwen, an eyebrow raised.

— Do you see any customers around?

He was right and she couldn’t help the smirk which made its way on her lips, as she rolled her eyes.

— What do you want, Duncan?

— Have a chat, since we won’t be able to see each other. Since we’re both oh so busy constantly.

— Whose fault is that?

— Eh, not my fault I’m always booked and busy. Anyway. You live with Courtney? What the fuck did I miss?

Gwen choke on her coffee as he asked the question and had to hit her chest to try and not suffocate. 

— We kind of dated for a while. After All Stars ended. At first it was... awkward but we went back to being friends and then... You know, when she’s not there she’s really nice? I think the competition got to her. And yeah. It was nice. But it wasn’t working. Still friends though. Now she’s dating Heather. And I kept on being friend with Leshawna, because Leshawna.

She ended her sentence with a light laugh, which ended up being an explosion of laughter when she saw the face Duncan was making. Maybe it was too much at once.

— Dated Courtney? Dating Heather? She? What? What the fuck?

—Yeah. You missed a lot. But hey! Time to catch up on everything!

— Yeah. Didn’t miss much on my side. Tried to go to college, dropped out to start a band. And work... here.

He waved his hand, showing the coffee shop. It wasn’t that bad, in Gwen’s opinion. Didn’t seem to be a lot of customers here. And as long as it payed well. 

They spent the rest of the time talking, Gwen didn’t even have the time to read her book in the slightest. But it was nice. Catching up with him. She learned he was in a relationship with a girl for two whole years, but it didn’t work out. She told him she never really went out with anyone except for Courtney, it was mostly one night stands or hookups. 

She went back home that night, light-hearted, happy. She felt a ting in her heart, it felt so familiar. She didn’t realise but... She kind of missed that. Him. In a way. She shook her head, trying to shake those feelings away. It was neither the time nor the place for that. 

But still, she kept on going back there. Almost every day, for the next few weeks. Getting closer to him. Intimate. Flirty, sometimes. At first, she didn’t tell her friends. She didn’t know how they would react. After all, they all left Duncan in pretty bad terms (Courtney especially) and she was afraid. 

One evening, as they were all in the living room, each of them doing something else. Gwen was reading a book her art history teacher had recommended her when she asked about something to improve her knowledge. She was almost at the end of her degree and felt like she hadn’t learned enough, didn’t go through everything she wanted to. So she tried to resolve it on her own. 

Her phone, which was right next to her, lit up with a text notification. She picked it up, only to see it was from Duncan.

hey, got a free ticket for the concert i’m playing it tonight, wanna come?

A smile appeared as she answered his text.

yeah, ofc, text me the details i’ll be right there

She couldn’t help but be happy about it. Was this a date? It was right? She didn’t know. She didn’t know where their relationship was. Which point they were at. They were flirting together but didn’t know where they stood, if it was only in a friend’s teasing way or not. She hadn’t gone in a date in ages. Had to make sure it would become one, in the end. Because she desperately wanted it to be a date. She was way too careful about how she dressed, her makeup, her hair. Spent at least a half hour on what she should do with her hair, only to end up with a bun. It showed her collarbones. It was nice. She felt nice. 

She arrived a bit too late at the venue, took too long to get ready. But Duncan had texted her, told her when he would perform so she was still ok. Hadn’t missed him.

She still was kind of on the fence about what to think of this, bands of her friends were rarely good, she still had nightmares about what Harold and the others boys did after Total Drama Action. But maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. Just maybe. And maybe drinking something would make this all the more enjoyable, who knew. 

She ordered a beer, sat at the bar while waiting the turn of Duncan’s band. There wasn’t too many people here, it was nice. She could clearly see the stage from where she was sitting, even if she would probably get closer once it was their turn, just to be sure he would see her. She felt like it was kind of important? Otherwise he probably wouldn’t have asked her to come. 

The bands she had listened to up to now weren’t that bad, even if they were not amazingly good either. She could listen to them, it was ok. The time was almost there. She ordered another beer, took the glass and went up to the crowd. Saying “sorry” and “excuse me” she gradually succeeded in going first row (she might have used the excuse of “my boyfriend’s going to play next”, it always worked). Sipping her drink, she was moving her head, smile on her lips. It was a nice evening, unexpected, but nice. The fact that she hadn’t gone out in ages, because of all the workload her teachers constantly gave her, only made this experience better. The current band ended their set, got out of the stage. Her phone rang, another text from Duncan.

we’re next. u there?

Gwen smirked, put her glass on the stage right in front of her for a few seconds to answer.

look right in front of you. can’t miss me.

She put back her phone in the pocket of her jacket, took back her glass and drank it. A warm feeling was rising in her body, a sense of anticipation. She was expecting something, but wasn’t quite sure what. It would be so fucking corny of him to have written a song about her. Trent did it way too many times, when they were together. But still... Anyway. She shook her head, took another mouthful of the beer, her eyes fixed on the stage. 

And then they came on. Duncan’s eyes were looking further away in the crowd, before finally locking onto her. He reciprocated the smirk which still was on Gwen’s lips, got his bass ready. The others got their instruments ready too, signalling to each other. Duncan winked at Gwen, before signalling that he was ready, too. 

Surprisingly, it wasn’t that bad. Reminded her if some bands she used to listen to. Still did, actually. She bopped her head in rhythm to the music, her eyes closed and occasionally looking at Duncan. The lyrics were fine, the music was great. The beer she had taken was making her feel all calm and nice, the smile on Duncan’s lips whenever he was looking at her made her feel all... fuzzy inside. When that song ended, just before starting their last one, he raised his eyebrows, laughed a silent laugh. She rolled her eyes, finishing her glass. She tried to read the program on her phone, quickly before they started the song. One more band after them. Way enough time to hang out with him, before the results were announced. 

That song was way slower than the first two. This was the first ballad of the evening, and a pretty. Lately, she had found herself enjoy ballads way more than other songs. Was mostly the only songs she had on her daily playlists on Spotify, had made Duncan listen to her favourites. This was probably a coincidence. Didn’t know for sure. But it was nice. A nice change of pace. She found herself looking at Duncan, and him staring at her, way more than she was expecting to. The song ended faster than she wanted it to, and they were already off the stage. No more interest for her, so she left the crowd. Gave the glass back to the barman. 

— So. What did you think?

— Better than what I expected. Might have a shot at winning this thing.

She said, as she turned around. He was there, looking at her with that same face he had on stage. Looking... kinda hot, actually. But maybe it was just the beer acting up. She couldn’t know for sure. (She did know, she had found it hot for the longest time). He approached the bar, ordered a beer. Take a better look at her. 

— I’m glad you came, it was nice to see you there. Looking so good, it made me want to be even better for you.

He laughed, ruffled his hair. He wanted to say something else, she could feel it. But maybe later? She didn’t want to hurry him. 

— Who knew Duncan could be so corny?

— Oh, I can be something else than corny. 

— I’d like to see that.

They glared at each other before bursting into laughter. Duncan took his glass of beer, drank a bit. It was silent between them, but not awkward. The last band was playing in the background. Gwen finally sat on a stool, taking it closer to Duncan. She crossed her legs, thinking of something to say, but Duncan did it before her.

— I meant it, you really look good. I had forgotten how you look in a dress like that.

— I mean, I also changed a lot in five years. In case you didn’t notice.

— Oh. I did. Believe me, I did.

The way he was looking at her after saying those words made her shiver. Weirdly enough, her heart was starting to beat faster. Would he... He moved in closer to her, and so did she. The space between them soon getting closer and closer.

— Can I kiss you?

His voice was a whisper. Gwen closed the gap between them, kissing him. His lips were as soft as she remembered, one of his hands find its way onto the back of her neck, while the other was holding one of Gwen’s. They broke off the kiss after a few moments, both breathless. Both smiling.

— Is that enough of an answer for you? Gwen said, winking.

— Wanna come to my place?

She blinked twice, frowned.

— What about the results?

He shrugged.

— Meh. I know we’ll win anyway. My bandmates will be mad. I can handle it. It can wait.

The hand on the back of her neck slid down to the small of her back, pressing it slightly. Gwen laughed, shaking her head. She took out her phone from her jacket, sending a text to Leshawna and Courtney saying she wouldn’t be back for the night. They left. The expectation of what was going to happen was building up, she felt an excitation she hadn’t felt in so long. The way to his apartment was pure torture. They had to walk for about 20 minutes, the high heels Gwen was wearing was killing her. But she didn’t complain, only talked to Duncan. They talked a lot, during those twenty minutes. However, once they were inside the apartment and Duncan locked the door, all talk was over. 

He immediately kissed her, leading her somewhere. She didn’t even have the time to take a look at where he was living, she already was in his bedroom (he had a two room apartment? wow), thrown onto his bed. The light was off, but the light from the street were enough for her to make out Duncan in the darkness. He was already taking off his shirt and pants, she unzipped her dress and let it fall on the floor. She didn’t really want to talk for now, only to feel him next to her. It wasn’t long, he quickly went to kiss her, his hands undoing the bun to pass his hands through her hair, pulling it with a small laugh. She groaned, pulled her hair back.

— Stop that.

— You prefer this?

He went down, started kiss her neck. Bit it here and there. Went further down, kissing all her body as he did so. Gwen shivered, held out her breath. She giggled when he started kissing her stomach. Immediately stopped once he arrived at her underwear. She wasn't expecting it to go there that fast.

— Duncan...

He looked up at her, an eyebrow raised.

— If you don't want to, stop me.

Him saying that made her feel more comfortable. She exhaled, put her hand in his hair.

— No. It's fine.

He stayed there, looking at her for a few more moments a grin slowly making its way before taking the last piece of tissue on Gwen's body out of the way. He kissed her there like no one did before. She tried to hold it in, bit her tongue to drown any noise. Only some few moans, as her hands were buried deep down into the sheets. He let his tongue slid, trying to make her make more noise. Ended up going back to her face, to kiss her.

Feeling Gwen's short breathes made him laugh. As a revenge, she held out her hand, put it in his boxer. Grinning, she started to stroke him, laughing herself as she felt him thrust with a moan.

— Feeling less bold all of sudden, are you?

— Wanna bet?

His free hand reached into his bedside table, took out a condom. He pulled back from Gwen for a few instants, ripping the package open. He quickly put it on, went back down to kiss Gwen.

— You sure about this?

— Yes. I am.

He looked her in the eyes as he made sure to not hurt her, smiling even more when he felt her legs wrapping themselves around his waist. One his hands reached out to hold her waist as the other was against her cheek, caressing it. They were both smiling, both looking into each other's eyes. It felt as if they were only one. Gwen's hands were around the back of Duncan's neck, her moand got louder and louder. Duncan was faster and faster. They were moaning together, kissed each other frantically as they felt the end coming. Which was amazing. In unison. The first time it ever happened to Gwen. The first time she came that fast with someone, the first time it was so... Good.

She laughed as Duncan laid down next to her, she stood up to go to the toilets and went back next to him right after, still totally naked. She was too exhausted to put back any clothes on.

She curled herself up next to him, as he put his arm around her, his fave buried in her hair, smiling.

— Nice to see you again, Gwen.

— Nice to see you again, Duncan.

[noahscents]

Professor Kavinsky Pt. 2 - Peter Kavinsky Imagine

Here’s Part 1, and here’s my imagines masterlist!

Word Count: 1,271

Enjoy!

“WHAT??? You know him? You went to HIGH SCHOOL WITH HIM?” Amelia says, placing her hands on your shoulders and shakes them. Your head bobs back and forth a little, then you place a hand on hers. 

“First of all, yes. Second of all, please stop shaking me.” You say, reassessing your equilibruim before hopping on her bed.

She hops up next to you.

“I really should get a stool or something. There’s no reason this bed should be this high.” She says, crossing her legs. “But I’m just trying to figure out how you know the hottest, youngest Professor at Angelica Schuyler University.”

You shrug your shoulder and sigh.

“I mean, I was in 9th grade when he was in 12th. But I was one of those math prodigy kids, so we were in the same math class. He asked me for my notes a couple time throughout the year. We spent the most time together when I tutored him for a week straight before our Calc final. He had a 71% in the class, and the final was 20% of our grade. His girlfriend was also in the class, but she only had an 87% in the class and I had a 99%. With my help, he got an A+ on the final and a 92% in the class. He took bought me a burger and a shake to thank me.” You say, sipping water out of your hydroflask.

Amelia’s eyes, as well as her mouth are wide open.

“Wait, girlfrliend?” She says.

You roll your eyes. 

“That’s really all you gathered from the story?” You say.

“Duh, I don’t you trying to break up a happy home.” She says, laughing.

“Haha, I’m not even trying to get with him.” You say, flopping backwards. “Peter Kavinsky was infamous for proposing to his girlfriend at prom after they won King and Queen.”

Amelia gasps.

“Hold on!” You say, sitting up on your elbows. “It shook everyone. His ex girlfriend was so heartbroken, that she skipped town for the rest of the year. Rumor has it, she didn’t even come to graduation. No one has seen her since.”

“Oh my GOD, this is so juicy.” Amelia says, cracking open a bag of Trail Mix.

You laugh, extending a hand where Amelia pours an array of salted cashews, almonds, raisins, and M&Ms.

Sweet, this is the one that has chocolate!

“Anyways, after that I never saw him again. It didn’t really matter.” You say, popping a pinch of the trail mix in your mouth. “I mean, he was hot but he was engaged. All I did was tutor him, and the following year I had a boyfriend of my own.”

“And you didn’t know he went to this university and did the accelerated academia track?” Amelia says, eating another handful.

“Nope. I didn’t even try to keep up with him like that.” You say, finishing off your handful and grabbing a napkin. “That was just something I had to be realistic about. He was 3 years older than me, and that meant way more in high school than it does now.”

“Ummmm, excuse me? Isn’t that manz married?” She says.

“Nope. When he pulled me aside, he caught me staring at his hand and he told me that him and his girlfriend, Lara Jean, got divorced.”

Amelia chokes on her water.

“HE WAS WITH THE YA BREAKOUT ROMANCE NOVELIST, LARA JEAN COVEY? HER BOOKS GOT ME THROUGH HIGH SCHOOL!” She says, standing up on her bed. “IF HE WAS MY HIGHSCHOOL SWEETHEART,”  She says, jumping up and down, “I’D WANNA WRITE ROMANCE NOVELS TOO.” She says, plopping down on her butt.

Man, this girl has energy.

“Hahaha, well then you’re gonna love this. Apparently, the year before I got there, she wrote 5 love letters to guys she had these intense crushes on throughout her entire life. That’s how she got him.”

Amelia grabs your arm.

“You mean the plot of My 5 Love Letters is based on a TRUE STORY??” She says.

“Well aren’t you a fanatic?” You say as she squeezes your arm, “Okay, ow.”

“Sorry.” She says.

“Yeah, it’s real.” You say, shrugging.

“She actually didn’t know Lucas was gay?” Amelia says, chuckling.

“Nope.” You say, as the door to Amelia’s dorm opens.

“Yeah, he was totally checking me out. I’m gonna make that man mine.” A slightly familiar voice states. Your back is facing the door, and you turn your to see who’s standing in the threshold.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Amanda is her roommate??

“Hold on, I’ll call you back.” Amanda says, hanging up the phone. “Amelia, who’s this little stray you’ve brought back?” Amanda says.

I will stomp this bitch out.

“You don’t know her? She’s the super awesome chick who made the first day of lecture hilarious.” Amelia says, placing an arm around me, “We’re studying.”

“Gross. On the first day?” Amanda says, kicking off her heels and sliding into Fenty PUMA slides.

“Um, excuse me? Weren’t you just asking the professor for help on the first day?” You say, frowning.

“Mind your business, Poindexter.” Amanda says, looking in the mirror and fluffing her hair.

Poindexter? Is this the 1980s?

“Well, if you’ll excuse me. I have more pressing matters to attend to.” She says while walking through the door, slamming it.

“Yikes. How do you have beef with someone on the first day?” Amelia says.

“She had a problem with Peter dismissing her dick appointment proposal to talk to me.” You say, rolling your eyes.

“Ho-Holy shit.” Amelia says.

“It’s not my fault he wants me.” You say.

“So you think he wants you?” Amelia says, grabbing your hands.

“That’s not what I-” You say.

“Or you want him to want you... which means you want HIM-” She says.

“Are we actually gonna get some studying done today?” You say, trying to change the subject.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She says, opening her laptop. “Okay, have you had discussion yet?”

“No...” You say opening up your laptop. You hear a ding from it, and the iMessage notification popping up in the corner.

From (XXX)-XXX-XXXX, sent 15 minutes ago.

That’s weird. I don’t recognize this number.

You click on the iMessage desktop application and the message reads:

Hey! I scrolled through about 3 years of messages to find your number again. It was really nice seeing a familiar face today in class. I was wondering if you’d like to catch a cup of coffee with me tomorrow, if possible? Only if your packed undergrad schedule permits 😂 -Peter (in case you didn’t know)

“Oh my god.” Amelia says, as you realize she read the message too.

“Hey!” You say, slamming your laptop closed.

“YOU HAVE TO SAY YES.” She says.

You rub your temples and sigh.

“What does this all even mean?” You say looking up at the ceiling.

“You gotta find out, girl.” Amelia says.

You reluctantly open your laptop and stare at the blinking cursor in the message box. You type out:

Sure. Is tomorrow fine? I don’t have class.

You get a response almost immediately.

Yeah, see you at noon at Sbux

“Oh my god.” Amelia says, again.

You exit out of the iMessage application.

“Would you quit being nosy?” You say, laughing.

“I’m just... so excited for you.” She says, clapping her hands.

“And I’m excited to figure out what you heard in discussion today!” You say, smiling.

“Boooooo, you’re no fun.” She says.

You shrug and open up Google Docs.

“Now, where were we?” You say.

“Okay, do you know the difference between a wink and a twitch?”

edit: here’s Part 3!

[thinkyoureholy]

Your Name Remains The Same [9]

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Pairing : Park Chanyeol / [Fem] Reader

Genre: Angst, smallest bit of fluff, future smut…maybe, Mafia! AU

Words: 2k

Pt 1. Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt 4. Pt 5. Pt 6. Pt 7. Pt 8. Pt 9. Pt 10. Pt 11. Pt 12. Pt 13. Pt 14. Pt 15.

-Y/N’s P.O.V-

I squeezed my eyes shut, taking in deep breaths, trying to compose myself. After a few minutes I finally calmed down enough to rise to my feet. With another deep breath in I walked to my door and walked out into the hallway. I avoided going into Chanyeol’s office, having heard things being thrown around and yelling a little more than an hour ago. I walked straight passed his office, making my way downstairs.

As soon as I entered the living room I could feel the tension in the air, it was so thick I could easily cut through it with a knife. Everyone immediately looked over in my direction, but my eyes only focused on one of them, Minseok. Minseok was holding a bag of ice against his eye while a bloody tissue was stuffed up his nose. He had several smaller cuts around his face and a huge gash in his bottom lip that still seemed to be bleeding a bit. When he met my gaze all he could do was scoff, wincing immediately afterwards as his free hand came up to hold his side gently.

“You here to beat the shit out of me too?” He asked.

I shook my head, frowning as I took in his wounds. The only one that could’ve done this to him was Chanyeol and with the noise I heard earlier I can only assume my guess was correct.

“Good...cause I don’t think I can take another beating, might as well just kill me instead.” Minseok said, mumbling that last part.

“What do you want, Y/N?” Junmyeon asked, shifting my attention to him.

“I want to take a look at the footage from the security cameras…”

“I’d love to show them to you sweetheart, but it’s still a little bit difficult for me to stand at the moment” Minseok spoke up again, motioning to Sehun, “Show her what she wants.”

Sehun simply nodded, walking off into the direction of what I assumed to be Minseok’s room. Since Minseok was the only techie one in the group all the monitors were set up in his room. He had mentioned something about it being more convenient for him that way when I first came to the house. I had never really seen any of the equipment in his room before, not really having much of a reason to go inside.

“The footage from inside the room is on this screen and the footage from the street is on this one.” Sehun said.

I didn’t pay attention to any of the footage from inside the room, my focus solely on the screen that showed footage from outside. A car had pulled up outside the house, the men not even trying to hide their faces as they sauntered over to the building. I tore my eyes off of their faces, focusing on the car and pausing the tape as I noticed the license plate was visible but a bit blurry due to the camera being far away.

“Can you blow up and enhance this image? More specifically the license plate?”

Sehun had already done as I asked before I even finished talking. I looked around the room, searching for a pen and a piece of paper. Once I found what I was looking for I wrote down the plate number, taking notice of the make and model of the car as well.

“What’s the point of doing that? We already know who they are.”

“Yes but do you know where they are? Judging by the car it’s the newest model and with the newest model there’s a computer built into it. So what do all drivers use to help them get places?”

Sehun thought about it for awhile before it clicked, “GPS.”

“Bingo.” I said with a smile, “All I need to do is run this plate number.”

I whipped out my phone, dialing the number of the man I had been assigned to be partners with when I first started working as a police officer. I only had to wait for the phone to ring twice before he picked up, confused for that matter.

“Y/N?”

“Hyuk I need your help.”

“Is everything alright?” He asked, immediately concerned.

“I’ll explain everything later but can you run a license plate number for me? It’s urgent.”

“Yeah...yeah just uh, give me a second here.” He said, the sound of him typing the only thing I heard for a few seconds before speaking, “Alright give me the number.”

“It’s BCF 1076. The make and model is a 2018 e-class Mercedes Benz.”

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll call you right back.” Was all he said before hanging up.

I sighed heavily, combing my fingers through my hair, trying to hide the trembling of my hands as I suddenly felt a wave of emotions hit me. If this led to a dead end I don’t even know where else to start looking. Without a word I got up and headed towards the kitchen, pouring myself a glass of water and taking a sip.

“It looks like you found a lead?” Jongdae said, making me jump at the sudden sound of his voice.

I turned around to face him, placing the cup on the counter, “My old partner is running the plate number of the car that belonged to the men. I should have their location within a few minutes.”

“At least you’re doing something useful while Chanyeol thinks he’ll get anything done by beating the hell out of one of us.” Jongdae said, sounding very annoyed by Chanyeol’s choice of action.

“How is he?” I asked, referring to Minseok

“You saw him yourself, Y/N. It’ll take a few months for his ribs to heal.”

I opened my mouth to say something else but was cut off as my phone rang. Immediately forgetting about the conversation I was have with Jongdae I picked up the phone.

“I got a location for you but it’s a bit of an odd place for a car to go to repeatedly and stay for hours on end.” Hyuk said before continuing, “It’s an old abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city, it’s set for demolition in a few weeks. I already sent the address to your phone.”

“Thanks Hyuk, really I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Y/N….what’s going on? This warehouse is in a sketchy neighborhood and I’m questioning why you even needed me to track that car down.”

“I’ll--I’ll answer all your questions later, Hyuk. Just...trust me on this one okay?”

“Last time you said that you almost got yourself killed.” Hyuk pointed out, the worry evident in his voice.

“Look I’ll be fine. I promise I’ll tell you everything once this nightmare comes to an end.” I said and hung up, not giving him a chance to argue further.

“Where do you keep your weapons?”

-

“You sure you want to go in there all by yourself? Jiho must have his men on watch 24/7, it won’t be easy.” Jongdae said, trying to get me to rethink everything.

“I’m not going by myself.”

“What? You think I’m gonna let you assholes sit back while I do everything?” I questioned as I noticed the look on his face.

“Tell everyone else to arm themselves, I’m going to go get Chanyeol. We leave in twenty minutes.” I said, shoving a bulletproof vest into his hands and making my way up to Chanyeol’s office.

I didn’t bother knocking, letting myself in. I stopped short as I took in the state the room was in. Everything in the room was destroyed; his desk flipped over along with his chair, his books were scattered all around the room, and the glass coffee table was now in pieces on the floor. I frowned as I took everything in, noticing Chanyeol sitting against the wall by the window, a far away look in his face. He looked so...empty, so broken.

“Chan?”

I took tentative steps towards him, his eyes moved to look at me but they were so void of any and all emotion it was hard to keep his gaze. I kneeled down in front of him, placing my hands on his knees.

“I managed to get a location-”

“What?” He asked, hope shining in his eyes.

“I had a friend of mine track their location. The guys are getting ready to head out.”

He stood up quickly, almost knocking me over in the process. I watched as he walked out of the room quickly, a sigh leaving my lips.

“Yeah, no I’m fine, really….just dandy.” I grumbled to myself before getting up and following him downstairs.

As soon as I reached the living room the tension I had felt a while ago had returned tenfold. They all looked completely done and still very much angry with Chanyeol, a few of them even refused to look at him.

“What are you all waiting for? Let’s go.”

No one moved or even acknowledged that Chanyeol spoke, angering him. I could tell Chanyeol was on the verge of yelling so I nudged him out of the way.

“Guys...please...you can all settle this after we get Jihyun back.”

All of their faces softened at my words, Junmyeon giving them all a nod before they sprung into action. I saw Minseok trying to stand, probably wanting to help out as well but I placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re no use to us in the condition your in, besides we need you to be our eyes. How long would it take for you to get setup here?”

“Hand me that remote.” Was all he said, pointing to a remote on the coffee table.

I handed it to him, watching as he pressed a button on the remote. With just the press of a button the big screen tv on the wall flipped over, four smaller screen tvs taking its place. The floor under the coffee table opened up, the coffee table being replaced by a different table with all sorts of gadgets and button covering it.

“Sehun go get the gray suitcase under my desk.” Minseok said, already typing things out with the built in laptop on the table, “I need the location.”

-

It didn’t take Minseok much time to set up, giving each of us an earpiece so we can communicate amongst ourselves and have him talk us through the layout of the warehouse from here. I was strapping on a bulletproof vest, the last one they had actually, when Chanyeol decided to grab my hand and lead me to the kitchen.

“Y/N...I want you to stay here.”

“What?” I questioned incredulously, finding it absurd that he’d have the nerve to say that to me, “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m just gonna sit back and wait here.”

“Y/N, I can’t risk you being in danger too. It’s bad enough Jihyun is in the middle of all of this but if-” He paused as he grabbed my hand, “If I somehow lose you...I-I don’t know what I’d do.”

I sighed heavily, squeezing his hands tightly before speaking, “I’ll be fine, or have you forgotten that I went into dangerous situations everyday because of my job. I can handle myself, Chan...and--and if something were to happen to me-”

“Y/N…”

“Just hear me out okay? If something were to happen to me I want you to promise me that you’ll get Jihyun out of there and you get yourself out of this life.” I paused, suddenly overcome with emotion, “I want you to promise me that you’ll leave all of this behind and make up for the years Jihyun had to live without you by raising him into a man we can both be proud of.”

Chanyeol shook his head, his eyes leaving mine as soon as they began to water. I held onto his hands tighter, forcing him to look at me.

“Promise me.”

After a long pause Chanyeol finally nodding, sniffling a bit. I smiled softly before planting a small kiss on his cheek.

“Now let’s go get our son back.”

Tags: @sweet-honeywood   @yoopiye  @yeollieollie @iconicchankai

[cno-inbminor]

ta!taehyung (pt. 2/final)

and here is part 2/final of the ta!taehyung drabble i wrote waaayyy back. i would recommend reading the first part as a refresher!

prompt sentence: oops i accidentally slept with my ta

part 1

as the month decreases day by day, you get more and more nervous.

just because you and taehyung haven’t officially donned a label doesn’t mean you two never see each other. in fact, taehyung seems to find you everywhere and you’re starting to wonder if he keeps an open eye out for you constantly. one day, you might be sitting in the library cafe and he’ll take the seat across from you completely unannounced, sliding over a cup of coffee with a grin on his face. another day, you might be holed up in the biology and psychology building, absolutely ready to yank your hair out, but then taehyung shows up to save the day and calms you down.

it’s just really fucking unfair.

completely caught up in your feelings, on the first day of this month-long wait, you went and sent taehyung a facebook request that didn’t get answered until way later into the night. the fear of rejection ate at you every second until you were a nervous wreck, completely uncharacteristic of how poised you usually were. you cursed yourself for getting too far ahead of yourself, cursing the existence of romantic emotions, cursing the idea that you might stop taehyung from being his old player self. if anything, you became more confused than ever--what happened that night that made him willingly wait another month to take you out?

the five days afterwards were radio silence--it was as if taehyung and you had never spoken, much less slept with each other. you were starting to mentally convince yourself that your doubts were coming true: taehyung was overcome by his rejection and demanded to clear his record by making you think he wanted you, when in fact, he just wanted your approval and perhaps, another night in bed. but then, he and his cheerful grin came bounding into your life unexpectedly and if you had to be honest, you were terrified.

now the fear had dissipated and churned into anxiety, your nerves shuddering through your spine with each passing day. relationships had never really worked out for you, and the last thing you wanted was to throw your entire self into something that was fruitless from the beginning. having only looked for something fun for a night and ended up with much, much more, you are unprepared and scrambling to get your shit together.

wrapped up in your thoughts, you don’t realize that you’re lightly gnawing on the end of your pen, a habit that you had dropped years ago but arises when things get more stressful than you can handle. evidently this is where you are, cooped up in the bio and psych building at 10pm while wondering if you should camp in the chem club office tonight. you’re pretty sure some of your hairs have turned white at this point, and it isn’t until--

“penny for your thoughts?”

the unexpected voice rips your from your subconscious and makes you jump in your seat, pen nearly flying from your hand and breath caught in your throat. behind you stands taehyung with a cheeky, toothy grin and you release a shaky breath, chuckling a bit while also berating yourself for being so jumpy. taehyung takes it as permission to sit across from you and though your side is scattered with notes, your laptop, textbooks, and stationery, he does nothing but sit there with his chin perched on crossed arms planted on the table. the two of you stare at each other in silence, you unable to say anything and him waiting for you to express whatever is on your mind. in the end, you sigh heavily and look away, missing taehyung’s flash of concern in his eyes.

“it’s nothing, just the stress of finals coming up,” you say gently and return to looking at your notes. it’s a half lie, but he doesn’t need to know that. the last thing you need is taehyung peering into your soul, putting together the broken pieces behind your irises, and giving you excuses to pack up your stuff and flee the scene. “besides, what are you doing here so late?”

“i volunteered to help make sure we had everything for the lab practical, but i’m not allowed to set it up.”

“well, that’s nice of you, i guess.”

“i also figured you might still be here, so i took a chance. i’m in luck,” he cheesily winks at you when you look up at him, absolutely bewildered. taehyung volunteered to do a bit of a thankless task on a thursday night in hopes that he would catch you here, studying?

“i...i guess you are. doesn’t mean i am,” you say in defense, the walls going up around your heart instinctively. your hand grabs a highlighter to indicate important key points and once again, you miss taehyung’s fallen expression. but even then, that could mean a lot of different anythings and you don’t want to jump to conclusions.

“you don’t want to see me?”

“you want to see me?” you finally look up at him with a disbelieving look on your face.

“of course i want to see you. you know, i’ve been counting down the days like clockwork. i really want to take you out on a date. like seriously.”

blood rushes to your cheeks before you can fight it off, causing you to duck your head so he doesn’t notice. but you guess you’re too late because he giggles, fucking giggles, before mumbling “cute” under his breath but clear enough for you to hear. with that statement, the blush becomes even more evident and you mentally berate yourself. what are you, a five year old at disneyworld meeting prince charming for the first time?

“it’s thursday night, shouldn’t you be at a party now? everybody knows the weekend starts on thursday. plus, everybody’s trying to get their last drinks in before they settle down for finals,” you ask in an attempt to switch topics.

“i haven’t been to a party in a while,” taehyung sighs and leans back in his chair, hand running through his recently-dyed caramel locks. you have to say that the color gives him a gentler tone, less fuckboy-ish and more boy-next-door sort of feel. “there’s no need to either.”

“how come?”

“well, finals are coming up. plus, why go without you?”

you purse your lips and continue to bore holes into your notebook. you hope he hasn’t noticed that you haven’t flipped the page in the past five minutes because you haven’t been paying attention, too focused on trying to calm down your racing heart. something inside of you screams that taehyung isn’t just telling you all this to get on your good side, yet the blanket of fear is close to suffocating you in sheets of doubt.

all of a sudden, it’s too much. there’s no way that taehyung is dropping his player attitude for someone like you. while your self-esteem isn’t at the bottom of the rocks, you don’t think you’re a special snowflake or anything. as your own person, you are unique, but you don’t feel any sort of entitlement. you have your quirks, your knacks and turns, yet you don’t have this idea that you can change anybody or the world, much less taehyung. old habits die hard.

“it’s late, i need to go back and get some sleep before starting again,” you excuse yourself abruptly, quickly gathering your things and putting them into your backpack. anybody could tell that you were trying to escape, and even though you were so close to doing so, taehyung grasps your wrist with a strength you forgot he possessed, allowing yourself to stubbornly be dragged to the chem club office on the third floor. the elevator ride is so tense that even a breath could make everything combust, and it isn’t until taehyung has swiped his student id to get into the office that you shakily let it out.

he nearly slings his backpack down and forces yours off your shoulder before crowding you against the wall, not caring that someone could see through the glass pane and question the compromising position. the chances of that happening are, however, extremely low, seeing as the cleaning ladies have probably gone home already and no student would come this late at night.

“why are you acting like this?”

“acting like what?” you try to feign innocence.

“you know exactly what i’m talking about. acting like...acting like we never slept together or i never asked you out or that i haven’t been eyeing you since the beginning of the semester and hoping that someday i could take you out and treat you like the princess you are.”

you stay silent, teeth sinking worryingly into your bottom lip as you search your brain for a plausible answer. perhaps you're trying too hard to play it safe, but why risk getting hurt? was taehyung really worth it all?

“i don't understand,” he continues. the desperation and confusion is evident in his tone and you want to do nothing but hug him and dispel all his worries. “what did i do? did i move too fast? do you actually regret sleeping with me? did i--”

“no no no,” you quickly deny. “look, i’m just, stressed, and i don’t think i’m really ready for all this,” you wave a hand between the two of you. it’s 40% lie, really. in one sense, you are entirely prepared to dive straight in, yet the more logical part of you tugs your heart back, a lasso around said organ and pulling at it like a reminder.

“so...you’ll be fine after finals?”

“...i think so.”

“what do you mean, you think so? i thought this whole one-month thing would be fine and--”

“please stop pushing the issue!” you exclaim, the outburst startling him and setting some distance between you two. “this whole situation is so confusing and i don’t know what you want or what i want for that matter, but for the love of everything good, just please stop asking and pushing! you can’t plant the idea that i’ve changed you and your habits--”

“--change me? what? hang on--”

“--and you can’t just appear all the time giving me false hope! i don’t know if you realize the gravity of what you’re trying to do, but i do and i need time and space so i’m gonna go and leave and hopefully you can think about all this, too.”

and in the time taehyung is trying to process everything you said, you grab your backpack and bustle towards the stairs, legs nearly stumbling over the descending steps. you don’t realize you’ve held your breath until you exit the building and the cold air slams against your chest, forcing you to watch your cloud of breath dissipate into the air.

-

finals come and go. you manage to pass them all, including the microbio lab practical. you’re ready to go home and cuddle up with a good book and a steaming mug of peppermint hot chocolate, and in the midst of packing your suitcase, your phone lights and sounds with a notification. it’s a text from an unknown number, but the words on your screen let you know exactly who it’s from.

“please don’t leave me out here in the cold with a venti peppermint mocha”

you’re tempted to. part of you wants to blame your lack of concentration all on him, but it would be unfair and misplaced. after all, he hasn’t done that much wrong--at least, not enough to stop you from letting him into your dorm and accepting the warm paper coffee-to-go cup. you’re not nervous about letting him into your room and almost crack a smile when he seems unsure of where to sit or stand. he looks frazzled, eyes darting and unnecessarily clearing his throat amidst the silence.

“i’m sorry for how i reacted last time we talked,” you address the elephant in the room, staring down at the drink in your hands before looking up at him. “relationships have never been my thing, and i’ve never really believed in the idea of a man changing for a woman. evolutionarily, men love novelty, so i thought it might’ve just been an infatuation. so again, i’m really sorry,” you smile apologetically. taehyung chuckles and moves to stand closer to you.

“it’s just like you to bring evolutionary psychology into this,” he muses, gazing at you with a bright grin and soft eyes. “i know my...reputation doesn’t help, but i really want this to work out. if you’re fun in lab, i’m sure you’re even more fun outside of lab,” taehyung jokes and you laugh with him.

“so...is this our first coffee date?”  you ask with a smirk, lifting up your half-finished peppermint mocha. somehow, his grin becomes even bigger than thirty seconds ago, and the excitement dances spiritedly in his eyes.

“only if you want. but let’s be honest, our first date should be outside with good food. how does that sound?”

“sounds perfect.”

and perfect did wrap everything up nicely. sleeping with your ta was, once again, definitely not a mistake.

[supernatural-official]

Trust and Truth

(Ignore the fact that I wrote this before Jack was.....well Jack. Pretend Jack healed Kelly somehow and they’re happy in Florida) 

Those two words look so alike, and they went hand in hand, Dean reasoned. You had to trust that someone was telling the truth. And truth most of the times helped build trust. A small shaking breath went through Dean. Cas was back from the dead, back from the Empty, which according to Billie, was impossible to escape from. So, how the hell did his angel do it? And somehow Cas had managed to bring Gabriel for the ride back. And that all led to today, Dean Winchester, sitting alone in his room, trying to decide if he trusted his Castiel, his best friend. God did he want to. He hadn't said anything to Sam. He didn't want to be right. But Cas... He had just waltzed back into the bunker like Lucifer hadn't run him through. Like nothing was wrong. Sam... Sam was happy, happy to have Cas back, with Gabriel as an extra bonus. As much as Sam would deny it, Dean knew his younger brother admired Gabriel after he had died for them. Hell, even he himself had kind thoughts for the fake pagan god after that. Dean sighed, leaning back on his bed. "Maybe I should talk to Cas." He mumbled out loud staring up at his ceiling. It'd probably wouldn't go how he planned. Dean grit his teeth and clenched his fists. He wanted to hit something. The only things near were a laptop and his desk. Dean stood, and with a yell of anger, threw the laptop against the wall. It shattered, but Dean didn't care. He over turned his desk. Paper and research flew everywhere onto the floor. He looked up briefly, "If think this is funny, you son of a bitch.... It's not. Stop screwing with us you bastard!" He yelled, past the point of caring if the others in the bunker heard him. Sam chose then to walk in, alone thankfully. "Dean?" He laid a careful hand on the other hunter. "You seem a little...." Sam trailed off looking around the room. "I'm fine Sammy, just a little angry. That's all." Dean faked a smile. "Yeah, I can see that." Sam let go of his brother and picked up some of the papers. Then he left, sensing that he wasn’t wanted. When Dean looked up, Castiel had replaced Sam in the doorway. 

Pt 1 1/2 (what Sam and Gabe are doing while Dean and Cas... you know....)

 Sam rolled his eyes at the short angel. "You are impossible." He said smirking slightly. "Sammoose. Please." Gabriel begged, on his knees. "We should spy on them." "Gabe, no." Sam sighed. "Let's go to the library together." "Awe, is this our first date? At stay at home read fest? How nerdy, Sam-a-lam." Gabe teased as they walked together.

"It's not a date. If it was, it would be dinner. And I'd make you buy." Sam sassed back. Gabe looked speechless for a moment before grinning. "Sammy! I didn't know this is how you felt!" He bumped the giant man's arm with his shoulder. As they entered the library Gabe snapped a lollipop into existence. He sucked on it while he watched Sam research. After a while Sam looked up. "Hey, get this, so while many pagan gods eat humans, some, like you, eat what is considered connected with that god. So for you, it's candy." Sam smiled, "I found you out." "I'm mean you could always find out more." Gabe winked. "But how about dinner first? Let's say.... Two days from now? At 7?" Gabriel let himself be hopeful. Sam blinked at him before registering what the archangel had said. "Uh, yeah. That sounds good." He nodded with a smile.

Castiel looked at Dean Winchester, his human, the one he loved, his best friend. Castiel didn't know that Dean had been on to him. On to his lies. Why hadn't he told the truth in the beginning? "Dean... I..." The fallen angel began. "Don't." Dean said, holding up a hand to stop him. "Cas... I don't want another excuse. And I want to know the truth and why the hell you hid that from us.... From me." Dean's heart broken expression made Castiel want to undo every thing he had done, even back when he had been searching for Kelly. "Cas. I don't know why. But you think you can't trust me." Dean looked down. "I hate that." "You...." Castiel could feel his anger rising. "You want to know why I don't trust you Dean? It's because you don't treat me like I'm important. That after all we've been through. I mean nothing to you." Castiel pointed a finger and poked Dean's chest. "You've treated me like I'm just here to help you. Well, I found Crowley in the Empty. And after we escaped.... We talked, Crowley, Gabriel and I. About you Winchesters. And I realized that you've never cared about any of us. Not Crowley or I, or anyone else that has died for your cause." Cas felt angry and sad tears run down his face. He watched Dean's face tighten with anger. "Castiel, maybe if you were actually helpful, I'd treat you better. As it is the only thing you seemed to be good at, is getting yourself killed." Cas took a small step back. And he could tell by Dean's eyes that the green eyed hunter knew he had gone too far. " Cas... I-" Castiel was already gone. 'Gabirel, I know you care for Sam, and he for you. I just couldn't stay there with Dean. So I left.' Castiel sent a prayer to his older brother. Flying far from the bunker to a forest. He sat on a stump and held his head in his hands. He wasn't sure if he would be able to face Dean ever again. Dean ran through the bunker. Eventually running into Gabe and Sam. Gabriel automatically shoved him against the wall. "What the hell did you say to my brother." Gabriel growled, his eyes flashing gold. Sam surprisingly didn't move to stop Gabe. "Dean what did you do." Sam looked worried. "Cas sent Gabe a prayer saying he wasn't coming back because of you." Dean avoided their eyes. "I said some pretty harsh things. Which I regret." He said. "HARSH THINGS." Gabirel's voice reached a ear shattering level. Sam winced. "Gabe, my ears." Gabe glared at Dean once more before letting him go. "You broke my brother's heart. He loves you Dean." Gabe said as Sam placed an arm around Gabe. "Why don't I get you some hot cocoa. Fighting each other won't bring back Cas." Sam gently led Gabe away. Though Dean say the disappointed look in Sam's eyes. And Dean knew, things were never going to be the same.

It had been a year ago that Cas had left. Dean was on a hunt, hunting had become something he threw himself into. But now that he was tied to a chair and about to die. He was thinking, he should have done better to find Cas and tell him he loved the angel. They say separation makes the heart grow fonder. And Dean reckoned that was true, because he had never loved Castiel more than when he was gone. "Dean Winchester. Never thought I'd have the opportunity to kill such a pretty man." The vampire in front of him spoke, bringing his thoughts back to the present. "Don't swing that way, you son of a bitch." Dean glared at the male bastard in front of him. Which was somewhat true, he would never even consider anyone with this personality, guy or girl. "I could make you." The vamp leered, reaching forward and ripping Dean's shirt. 'Well, looks like Cas won't be my gay first time then. I'm just going to get fucking raped by a vampire. Not at all what I pictured.' Dean thought, not realizing that he actually was praying, to Castiel.

Cas heard him, and rushed to where he pinpointed the prayer. Smiting the vampire was easy. Facing Dean? Not as much. (That's all for now.) 

[surveysonfleek]

528.

5000 Question Survey Pt. 29

2701. What does 'equal' mean? that everyone’s deserving of the same rights. 2702. Do you believe in the phrase 'all men are created equal'? in theory yes, but not within our society. What about woman? unfortunately not. 2703. Have all persons been specifically 'created'? i guess? 2704. Are all persons exactly equal? i don’t think so. some are more skilled in certain areas than others etc.

2705. Or do they just have equal rights (in theory)? yes. 2706. Does art reflect society or does society reflect art? society reflects art more i think. 2707. Are you living under a little black raincloud or a ray of sunshine? neither. 2708. What do you wonder about? life. 2709. What is better..being single and free or being in love and responsible to another person? being in love and responsible. 2710. What vitamins do you take? none. 2711. In checkers..red or black? black. 2712. Is The Crow a great movie? i haven’t seen it. 2713. Do you wear all black frequently? not that often, but it’s happened. 2714. Do you ever call yourself a poet, artist, or musician? noooope. Has your writing been published, your art been hung in a gallery or your band been signed? my art has been hung before. Does it matter? not really. if i’m a creative my priority is just creating. it’s a bonus if it gets chosen to be displayed to the public. 2715. When insects get into your house, do you kill them or catch them and take them ouside or leave them alone and let them live with you? kill them. i don’t do insects dude. 2716. Name at least one person who's birthday is in: Jan.- yon Feb.- not sure Mar.- didier Apr.- ej, jerry, irene May- dwayne, dad June- mum July- bek Aug.- no one.. Sept- belle, meloy Oct- marie, cha Nov- dana, kristy, ahmad, sara, andrew, jason Dec- me, nat 2717. Which would you consider to be a worse criminal: a pedophile or a necrophile? pedophile. What if it was between a pedophile, a necrophile and a murderer? murderer. 2718. Do we start to die the day we are born or start to live the day we die? first one lol. 2719. Have you ever called your mom or dad a four letter word? sure, like the ‘best’. hahaha. 2720. Do you believe america should go to war with iraq? a bit of an old survey. 2721. Agree or disagree? (Bold is agree) “There is too much concern in courts for the rights of criminals.” “Abortion should be legal.” “The death penalty should be abolished.” “Marijuana should be legalized.” “It is important to have laws prohibiting homosexual relationships.” “The federal government should do more to control the sale of handguns.” “Racial discrimination is no longer a major problem in America.” “Wealthy people should pay a larger share of taxes than they do now.” “Colleges should prohibit racist/sexist speech on campus.” “Same-sex couples should have the right to legal marital status.” “Affirmative action in college admissions should be abolished.” “The activities of married women are best confined to the home and family.” “People should not obey laws which violate their personal values.” “Federal military spending should be increased.” “Realistically, an individual can do little to bring about changes in our society.”  Why did you agree or disagree to that last statement? i disagree because it really can only take one person to change things. 2722. Let's say that after you die you become a spirit and you join all the other spirits. Not all of them have lived. You are talking to some who have never lived about how you HAVE lived. One of the spirits who has never lived says they think they will travel to earth in a human body soon and live. They ask you what three things on Earth should I be sure not to miss? You say... 1. travel the world 2. fall in love 3. eat to your heart’s content. 2723. What kind of ass is the sexiest (flat, round, tight, hard, meaty, juicy, small, big, stacked, packed, petite, barely there, curvey, muscular, etc.)? i don’t really have a preference. if i see one i’ll know if i like it or not haha. 2724. Is there something beautiful and special about everyone? for the most part, yes. If yes is there something beautiful and special about Hitler? that’s why i said for the most part lol. How about Bin Laden? idk. What is it? apparently they found  bin laden’s laptop and saw that it had a ton of wallace and gromett videos on it looool. that’s pretty special. 2725. Have you ever moshed? hell no. If yes to what bands? If no then would you ever? i don’t think so. 2726. Do you like sushi? i love sushi. 2727. What mood are you in? pretty bored and tired. What does your mood depend on? if i’m working or not. What depends on your mood? work. 2728. wHAT IS faith? believing in someone/something. what is common sense? knowing the easiest way to do things. Do you have either or both of them? i think so. 2729. Is perfection or imperfection more beautiful? both if they’re separated.  2730. Would you think a person doing the following things has a healthy or unhealthy level of insanity? gives the finger while driving? depends what the other person did. tells their life story to people they just met? slight issues there. walks up to people and tried to convert them to a religion? unhealthy. says blah? depends how often. 2731. Do you think this is a great line of poetry: "Journey with me into the mind of a maniac. Doomed to be a killer since I came out the nutsac" Why or why not? lol it’s a bit of a mind fuck. 2732. Do you think that song lyrics are poems with music? sometimes. 2733. In cases of rape which do you think is more of a crime: a stranger rapes a girl OR a girl's boyfriend rapes her? both is just as bad. 2734. Did you know that in the USA it is considered to be LESS of a crime if a rapist knows the victim (because it is 'less of a crime' the rapist gets a less severe punishment)? Do you agree or disagree and why? i totally disagree. if the rapist knows the victim it puts the victim in a shitty position. if they’re someone with power and/or authority over them, the victim may find it harder to defend themselves from the rapist’s actions which can lead to emotional and psychological issues, like stockholm syndrome and shit. 2735. In the USA a few weeks ago a guy had beaten up and raped his girlfriend, for which he got 70 days of community service. He had been found guilty, got a year and a half of jail, BUT can you guess why his sentence was reduced to mere community service? . . . . . . . . He had a steady job. That's right. He was found less guilty, because he had a long-term steady job. How does this make you feel? that’s bullshit. i hope my country’s court of law isn’t that backwards. 2736. Does the character limit of notes or entries annoy you more? no. 2737. wHO'S YOUR FAVORITE WRESTLER? the rock. 2738. Have you ever been trapped in an elevator? no, thank god. 2739. What is more important, tact or honesty? it depends... in the workplace i’m all for tact. but for personal relationships, honesty. 2740. Do you have a mentor? Who? nope. 2741. If you like guys: would you rather have a 'bad' guy (motorcycles, smokes, drinks, etc) or a 'good' guy (family, domesticated, nice guy)? a good guy. Would you rather have a virgin or a more experienced guy? doesn’t matter. If you like girls: Would you rather have a virgin or a more experianced girl? would you rather have a 'bad' girl (motorcycles, smokes, drinks, etc) or a 'good' girl (family, domesticated, nice girl)? 2742. Do you feel nervous in crowds? sometimes, especially if i don’t have a clear path to walk through. 2743. Did you write a real entry today? no. What about? Was it your best writing? 2744. If you were making a 'best of' entry about your BEST entries ever what would be your top 5 best entries? lol. 2745. Do you like to play the lottery? i’ve played it once and lost. 2746. Guess what? what? 2747. Why did you choose to live one more day? i’m content with my life. 2748. What is the most beautiful myth you have ever read/heard? mermaids. 2749. Have you ever been stood up? nope. 2750. Finish the following sentences any way you want. It's always darkest before.. sunrise Never underestimate the power of.. money Don't bite the hand that.. feeds A miss is as good as a.. goal If you lie down with dogs, you.. bark Love all, trust.. no one The pen is mightier than.. a pencil An idle mind is.. free Where there is smoke, there's.. fire Happy is the bride who.. gets enough sleep Two is company, three's.. a crowd None are so blind as.. the meek You get out of something what you.. put in When the blind lead the blind.. idk Laugh and the whole world laughs with you. Cry and.. idk 2751. What's the most interesting assignment you ever had in school? making a diorama of the gold rush lol. it was fun. 2752. What's the most interesting thing you ever had to do for work? shuffle cards literally all day. 2753. Do you feel: insignificant? unable to evoke change? like one person can't change the world? like one life and one person's suffering doesn't mean very much? If you answered yes to any of those can you describe why in detail? omg cbf. 2754. Do you feel like you could contribute as much to society as ____ has? Albert Einstein: Abe Lincoln: Franz Kafka: Jesus Christ: 2755. Are you aware that your brain is the same size as Albert Einstein's brain? sure. Do you realize that you have the same number of hours in a day as Abraham Lincoln? sure.

Did you know that Franz Kafka wrote all of his amazing litterature during his lunchbreaks at work? Did you know that we are all made of matter and that you are made of the Same Thing that Jesus was made of? Do you still believe that you couldn't contribute as much to society as they did? If yes than WHY? 2756. Is your mind in the gutter? sometimes. 2757. What do you have to complain about? everythinggggg. 2758. Do you remember rock n' roll radio? nope. 2759. Is there such a thing as a food that you burn more calories from digesting than you actually absorb from it? no, i watched a video debunking the celery myth. 2760. Hey, if you've gotten this far than you and me go way back. We've been hanging out for a while now and I gotta know..do you like me? no, some of these questions are stupid. 2761. What are you doing, Dave? 2762. As far as love goes do you feel it is better to become complete before looking for someone or find someone who completes you? either is fine. it’s actually best not to look for love, and to just let it find you. 2763. What attracts you about the opposite sex (or same sex, or both sexes)? face. 2764. Do you need people or do you not need anyone? a bit of both. 2765. Is selfishness always bad? yeah, sometimes. Is selflessness always good? only if you’re bettering yourself as a person. 2766. Do you feel like your life is being controlled by a power structure? somewhat. 2767. Can you name three things in society that send the message that being completely yourself and that looking inside yourself and contemplating what's within is a good thing? no. 2768. Can you name three things in society that send the message that materialism and the accumulation of stuff is a good thing? no. 2769. What is more important, a picture or its frame? the picture. What is more important, spirituality or religion? spirituality. 2770. How many definitions can you come up with for the word 'fuck'? more than ten. 2771. Is it less offensive when a black person says Nigger than when a white person says it? yes, it’s less offensive. Why or why not? because black people have taken a derogatory word used against them back in the day and have made it into a ‘new’ meaning, which is totally fine for them to use but not for anyone else. 2772. Do you rationalize often? i guess. 2773. Do you believe that america is an imperialist nation? idk. 2774. Would you agree that: hot topic is the new abercrombie? pink is the new black: you are the new you? 2775. Do you have more internet or real life friends? real life friends. 2776. What IS the feeding of 5000? idk? 2777. What's an easy way to make money? working hard. 2778. What's your favorite slang word and what does it mean? lol idk. 2779. Are you uncomfortable? sometimes. 2780. Is anything definite besides death and taxes? life. 2781. Would you rather live fast and die young or live slow and die old? live slow die old lol. 2782. Can you name 4 people who have committed crimes against humanity? no, i ain’t no snitch. How do you think they live with themselves? idk. 2783. If you could imagine, pure fantasy, any God you could concieve, how would you want God to be? no thanks. 2784. do you think the smashing pumpkins have a strong christian theme? never really listened to them. 2785. Do you think this survey has a strong christian theme? more religious than anything. 2786. Fill in the blank for yourself" Give me ____ or give me death! life. 2787. Have you ever heard of the USA patriotism act? Apparently they have passed laws making torture legal. Also the FBI can sneak and peek into ANYONE'S home. They don't have to ask or even tell you they were there. This is already the law. So, whaddaya think? i’m glad i don’t live in the usa. 2788. The people in power step all over the average citizen, trying to secure all the power and money for themselves and leave us with no rights and under their control. They have the audacity to do this because they know that we will not lift a finger to stop them. Are they right? somewhat. 2789. The Free State Project is a plan in which 20,000 or more liberty-oriented people will move to a single state of the U.S. to secure there a free society. They will accomplish this by first reforming state law, opting out of federal mandates, and finally negotiating directly with the federal government for appropriate political autonomy. They want to be a community of freedom-loving individuals and families, and want to create a shining example of liberty for the rest of the nation and the world. What's your opinion? Could this work? Why or why not? tl:dr. 2790. Have you ever seen the Neverending Stroy? Remember when Bastian has to prove his worth by looking in that mirror where you see yourself the way you really are with no pretenses, rationalizations or mental lying? Could you stand yourself if you looked into that mirror? sure. 2791. What is soilent green? idk. 2792. What are you proud that you have never done? hard drugs. 2793. What things are hopeless? crackheads. 2794. What Are People For? idk. 2795. What book do you feel could change someone's life? idk, everyone has different tastes. 2796. Didja ever want to just walk up to the Bush administration and ask them, 'What the fuck?' no. 2797. How do you take your coffeee? two sugars and a dash of milk. 2798. Have you ever played: paintball? no. lazer tag? yes. which is better? laser tag, i’m never trying paintball lol. 2799. In what ways are you lucky? just everything i’ve had in my life so far. 2800. If Jesse Jackson wants reparations to be given to black people because he thinks that black people don't have equal opportunities in this country than why does he drive a Jaguar? idk dude.

[alexanders-headspace]

Back From The Dead (Pt.1)

Notes: 

This is my first official multipart fic. It’s treebros, with the possibility of being a reader insert if that’s what my readers want! Regardless, it’s told from Evan’s perspective! As for trigger warnings: If it’s in Dear Evan Hansen, it’s going to be touched on in this fic. If you’d like to be tagged or just have feedback you can get ahold of me via messages or my askbox!

Summary:

 Connor's died, when Evan visits the Murphy's house he becomes haunted by an angst filled ghost he didn't want, not to mention most of Connor’s story doesn’t add up to be a suicide. Will Evan be willing to do what it takes to bring him back and uncover the truth?

Word Count: 2070

Tags: @watch-the-whole-world-disappear

I look down at the newly signed name on my cast and smile, taking the sharpie back from ‘Connor’. Still smiling, I look up at him, ready to thank him for being the first- and only- person to sign my cast. It doesn’t help that it’s the last week of summer school, so every one of my friends- or at least the people who would have maybe signed my cast- are gone. Connor doesn’t ask why I’m here- which I’m thankful for, because the truth is I’m not stupid, I just couldn’t go to one of my classes this year most days, there were just people in there who liked specifically to pick on me, and even when they weren’t picking on me, they were just completely negative and emotionally draining to be around. I usually only showed up once a week, but that obviously wasn’t enough to keep me out of coming to this school during the summer.

“Give me those.” Connor demands, holding out his hand for the bottle of pills half concealed in my hand, half concealing the fact I have anxiety and depend on lab made chemicals to keep me from shaking every time I have to talk to someone, or get too close to anyone I don’t know, or I have to do that thing where I have to wait at the counter while the checker counts out my change and then I’m standing there trying to put it in my pocket when the next person is already trying to check o-

   My thoughts are interrupted by Connor pinning me to the wall and repeating himself; I must have taken too long to answer. Shaking my head, I retreat into myself and bite down on my lip, my face going red with embarrassment at my sudden inability to speak. Connor gives me a harsh shove, holding one arm behind my back. I whimper, turning my head to look at him.

   “Give me those and I won’t tell everyone you’re writing perv letters to yourself about my sister. She doesn’t even know who you are, freak. Although I’m sure this is what you wanted, isn’t it? You knew I was the only one in the library, you knew I’d find this, that’s why you typed it up in here, isn’t it? So I could read some creepy shit about my sister, huh?” he says, biting down on his own lip, pressing harder onto my arm with every word as if he could break it again through the cast.

Wait, can you do that? Can you break your arm through a cast? I hand over the pills as I think that, not wanting to risk having my arm broken. Again.

He looks at the label, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Cymbalta? Will these get me.. Will this get me high?”

I can’t help the blush of embarrassment on my cheeks, still unable to speak.

I’ve never even been high, I’ve never tried to get high, much less thought it was a good idea to try and get high off medications that I need.

“I-I…” I stammer weakly, and he rolls his eyes, letting go of me and moving away from me.

“Cool. What’s the worst that could happen anyway?” he says, and my eyes widen.

The worst that could happen? Really? He could die, if he decided to take enough, his nervousness would skyrocket, which was incredibly ironic because that’s the very thing it was supposed to fix, passing out, tremors… hyperhidrosis, which again was ironic because that in itself was the cause of most of my anxiety, just thinking about sweating makes me start sweating again. Usually, my hands aren’t that sweaty, until I start worrying that they’re sweaty, which makes them sweaty.

Reaching for the pill bottle I’m harshly shoved by Connor, falling onto the library floor. He storms out, my letter in his hand with my pill bottle. Sitting up, I rub my arm, tears filling my eyes as I take out my phone to text my mom to come get me.

I see the familiar van pull up in front of the school, leaving and getting in the passenger side, closing my eyes and bracing for a barrage of questions.

“Are you okay?” she asks, turning to me.

Nodding, I look over at her. She wipes my tears, frowning. She doesn’t question further, although I can tell it’s because she’s trying her hardest not to.

“Did you write that letter to yourself? ‘Dear Evan Hansen today is gonna be a good day and’-” she starts, but I cut her off.

“Yes, why do you think I was in the library?” I ask, wiping my eyes with my hoodie cuff.

“Well I bought you a binder to put all your letters in…” she says softly, holding out a binder. It’s blue- my favourite shade of blue. On the side she wrote ‘Dear Evan Hansen’ in the pretty handwriting she wrote my name in on the outside of my door when I was little. She helped me decorate it for a full two weeks whenever she could after dad left.

I can’t help but smile, and nod, “Thank you mom,” I mumble, taking it from her and going inside, pausing to look at my door, running my fingers over the caked on paint, the pencil marks from every year I got taller, the lightest pencil mark at the top, where she couldn’t quite reach, and truthfully it’s not my actual height, I felt bad and bent down for her. Well, I had tried, she kicked me for doing it, which I remember me laughing at. I still slid my feet away from the wall, bending my knees ever so conspicuously. My fingers run over the mark, and some of the graphite transfers, making it lighter. I shake my head to clear the memory, going into my room and laying down on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I’ve never had to go a day without my medications for almost two years, and suddenly because some asshole I just met wants to get high I have to suffer. He’ll probably give most of them back tomorrow when he realizes you can’t get high off those. Unless you can get high off of those. Which I doubt. I mean I’m on a pretty high dose. Surely I would have felt something?

Mom makes mac and cheese with tuna for dinner, running out after dinner to the hospital, with barely a tight lipped smile serving as a goodbye. Sending one back, I wince at the slam of the front door, taking the dishes to the sink and rinsing them out. Sighing, I pick up a rag and clean off the counters, eventually giving up on a particularly difficult stain and sitting on the floor. I pull my knees to my chest, tears welling up in my eyes. Scrolling through my contacts is no help, who would I even call for this?

Alana? For her to give me statistics on why I shouldn’t be upset, nothing bad has really happened, and my brain should hypothetically be able to keep me from getting so anxious about everything?

Jared? For him to tell me we aren’t really friends, or to yell at me for calling him up so late? There’s only one other person I could call, and if my mom ever saw him on my call logs.. I shiver at the thought of even hearing my dad’s voice, much less the expression I’d see on my mom’s face when she found out I had his number. Of course, I’d gotten it from her a few years ago, so it might not even be any kind of accurate- what if I called a stranger?

No, no, being alone by choice is better than being cast out by my friends and... Family. My hands squeeze the rag in my hand, causing water to spill out of it onto the floor. I get up, sniffling and dropping the rag, heading up to my room. Crashing into bed, the tears start falling. There’s no one home to hear, there never is when I get like this. I don’t even know what this is, it’s some hellish mix of anxiety and… I’m not sure what else but I am sure I hate it.

Nightmares haunt me all night and I wake up two hours before my alarm in a cold sweat. Sniffling, I make my way to the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror for too long of a time, ignoring the urge to pick at a scar on my face that’s always bothered me. My mom tells me I have the scar over a freckle because when I was younger I always picked at it and despite it bleeding I wanted it gone. I had very little reasoning skills, figuring the skin would just heal itself perfectly over the ruined skin. Showering isn’t much help for me to be less anxious, my medication would be incredibly helpful but despite checking the box where I usually keep my pills eight different times I don’t have it. The deafening silence in the house isn’t helpful, and soon after dressing I start pacing. My mom should be up, I think. She comes in, knocking on the open door.

“Hey honey, you’re up early, do you wanna go grab a coffee with me?” she offers, smiling. As much as I’d love coffee, I shake my head; I know how coffee affects my anxiety, and I’m not taking the chances of having a panic attack at school- again. I don’t even bother looking to see the hurt look I know has crossed her face.

“I mean, I’ll go if you’re going to that cafe up the street I’ll come with you,” I offer, my eyes meeting hers, “I mean they serve that strawberry and cream thing, and it’s cold, so.. It’s nice, you know, because it… because it’s summer you know? A-And I mean who else could I share a girly drink with besides my mom?” I ask weakly, hoping I’m convincing her I feel okay.

She smiles, resting her hand on my shoulder for a moment, “Yeah, let’s go. Do you want me to put your backpack and binder in the car? Maybe you could work on today’s letter?” she adds the last part softly, as if asking too harshly would hurt me.

“Yeah, definitely.” I say, forcing myself to smile as I remember what happened to my first letter. I grab my laptop, avoiding opening it so my mom wouldn’t know what I’m up late watching-

“Did you wake up early from all those horror shows you watched last night?” she asks, and my face grows hot with having to lie.

“Horror shows? Mom are you sure you’re talking to the right…” I trail off at the look she gives me, “Yeah actually. I was watching American Horror Story, I didn’t want you to have to watch episodes you already watched when we watch it together!” I complain, almost whining as I tie my shoes.

“Wait, how did you know I was watching that anyway?” I ask, my brows furrowed, getting a laugh in response.

“Maybe you should look at what profile you’re up watching Netflix on. My most recently watched weren’t The Babadook and American Horror Story.” she said, kissing my forehead, laughing when my face scrunches up as I try to move away.

The drive to the cafe is quiet, but peaceful, not the awkward sort of quiet it should have been, because I still haven’t told her that my pills aren’t exactly around anymore. What if she’s mad I didn’t stand up for myself; what if she cries because I’m so weak I can’t even tell someone no when they try to take something of mine. She turns to me when we get there and frowns, and I almost start rambling all of this to her. Almost.

“Honey, you know, your principal called this morning, he needs to see you in his office this morning.” she says softly, and I bit my lip, tears welling up in my eyes from biting down where the skin is already bruised and swollen and from anxiety.

I nodded quickly, looking out the window, getting out and going and snagging a booth for me and her, sitting down and looking down at an empty page on my laptop.

[thejollyshiner]

Meme Anime Ask Pt.3 of 4

@stacys--mum asked me to answer 12, 16, and 30.

Due to my past experience of learning to answer these I will answer them in this order

Pt.1 - 12.  Anime that should get more attention from others?

Pt.2 - 16. 10 animes you have watched to recommend? (alphabetically/1-5)

Pt.3 - 16. 10 animes you have watched to recommend? (alphabetically/6-10)

Pt.4 - 30. One anime conclusion you would change?

Also a quick mention to anyone of what not to do when writing an extensive post since this is now my fifth attempt.

1. Always stick with one network or wi-fi when completing these, otherwise when you connect to a new wi-fi theres a good chance of losing everything you wrote.

2. Don’t ever write on a train even if they promise some sort of wi-fi especially on a moving train. Since your computer is just going to run pretty slow to the point of your computer thinking you had decided to send the answer on private, instead of choosing your gif.

3. Always be cautious where you are leaning your body on the overly sensitive touchpad especially when your unaware of it, while enjoying someones company.

4. Don’t ever try to attempt to make a long post and expect your laptop to still run fast. I learned this the hard way being half way done with this ask only for my computer to stay frozen for over two hours. only to give up hope that my computer can work while still answering this ask, so I decided to restart my laptop and loose everything.

Knowing these are all of the things I’ve learned I encourage everyone to not be me lol.

So, fifth times the charm...I guess.

16. 10 anime you have watched to recommend ? ( alphabetically/6-10 )

6. Kill la Kill

Plot: After the murder of her father, Ryuuko Matoi has been wandering the land in search of his killer. Following her only lead—the missing half of his invention, the Scissor Blade—she arrives at the prestigious Honnouji Academy, a high school unlike any other. The academy is ruled by the imposing and cold-hearted student council president Satsuki Kiryuuin alongside her powerful underlings, the Elite Four. In the school's brutally competitive hierarchy, Satsuki bestows upon those at the top special clothes called "Goku Uniforms," which grant the wearer unique superhuman abilities. Thoroughly beaten in a fight against one of the students in uniform, Ryuuko retreats to her razed home where she stumbles across Senketsu, a rare and sentient "Kamui," or God Clothes. After coming into contact with Ryuuko's blood, Senketsu awakens, latching onto her and providing her with immense power. Now, armed with Senketsu and the Scissor Blade, Ryuuko makes a stand against the Elite Four, hoping to reach Satsuki and uncover the culprit behind her father's murder once and for all. 

Background: Kill La Kill’s Toshio Ishizaki won the Tokyo Anime Award for Best Character Design in 2014. The series got another Character Design Award along with a Storyboard Award, Soundtrack Award, Theme Song Award (for Sirius), Mascot Awards (for Senketsu and Guts), Female Character Awards (for Ryuuko Matoi and Mako Mankanshoku), and Series Award for TV Broadcast in the 2014 Newtype Anime Awards.

Kill la Kill is a 2013 anime produced by Studio Trigger. A relatively new studio's first television production wouldn't normally raise too many eyebrows when announced unless said studio happened to be made up of ex-Studio Gainax and Studio 4C members, and the production's director, writer, and lead character designer also worked together on Tengan Toppa Gurren Lagann and a composer who did the music for Mobile Suit Gundam Unicorn and Attack on Titan. Kill la Kill was also heavily influenced by the 1980s comedy/battle seinen anime film Project A-ko, which featured almost identical character dynamics and types amongst its main female protagonists, and a similar main conflict. Kill la Kill was originally conceived as a manga focused entirely on battle scenes, but it shifted during production to become more character-focused.

Genres: Action, Comedy, Super Power, Ecchi, School, magical girl

7. Monogatari Series (nothing too specific as I like to view it as one giant story to watch, as I feel at times they’re not the best as stand alones. Especially the ecchi in this series can get horribly cringy at times especially when its not needed whats o ever.)

Plot: The Monogatari series revolves around Koyomi Araragi, a third-year high school student who is almost human again after briefly becoming a vampire. One day, a classmate of his, the reclusive Hitagi Senjōgahara, falls down the stairs into Koyomi's arms. He discovers that Hitagi weighs nothing, in defiance of physics. Despite being threatened by her to keep away, Koyomi offers his help and introduces her to Meme Oshino, a strange middle-aged man living in an abandoned building, who cured him of being a vampire. Once Koyomi helps solve Hitagi's problem, she decides to become his friend.

As the series progresses, Koyomi finds himself involved with other girls, each afflicted by different "oddities", including the ghost of a child called Mayoi Hachikuji; his underclassman Suruga Kanbaru; Nadeko Sengoku, a friend of his sisters; his classmate Tsubasa Hanekawa; and his own younger sisters Karen and Tsukihi. To deal with the spectres, Koyomi relies on guidance from Oshino and, later, from Shinobu, the same vampire who attacked him, now with the appearance of an eight-year-old girl.

Most heroines have an item that symbolises their spectres, such as Hitagi's stapler (the claw of a crab), Mayoi's backpack (the shell of a snail), Suruga's arm (the arm of a monkey), Nadeko's hat and jacket (the head and skin of a snake), and Karen's black and yellow tracksuit (the colors of a bee). Although incorporating elements of fantasy, horror, and action, it primarily focuses on conversations between characters, containing parodies of other series, as well as Nisio Isin’s trademark  wordplay and metahumor.

Background: The Monogatari Series is a series of light novels written by Nisio Isin and illustrated by VOFAN. Much like the rest of Nisio Isin and his work, Bakemonogatari parodies a lot of different anime tropes- most of them center around the harem genre, and poke fun at the various cliches inherent in said genre. Each part of the series focuses on a different girl and the affliction that ails them, each one an examination of a different anime girl stereotype. For example, main girl Hitagi is a Tsundere, Hanekawa is the meganekko, and so on. Araragi himself is an unreliable narrator, so much of his opinion of who these girls are can bleed into their portrayal in the series, making it so that we often learn more about Araragi at the same time we learn about the girls.

Studio Shaft adapted Bakemonogatari into an anime in 2009 under the direction of Akiyuki Shinbo, the man behind the surrealist Sayonara, Zetsubou - Sensei. he adaptation has been a huge success, and the studio has stated they will adapt the entire series ( even as Isin keeps writing more and more ). As noted in the list above, all of the series up to the first half of Owarimonogatari has been adapted to anime in some form, including broadcast series, original net animations, TV specials and theatrical films.

Genres: Avant-Garde, Mystery, Comedy, Supernatural, Romance, Vampire

8. Princess Tutu

Plot: In a fairy tale come to life, the clumsy, sweet, and gentle Ahiru (Japanese for "duck") seems like an unlikely protagonist. In reality, Ahiru is just as magical as the talking cats and crocodiles that inhabit her town—for Ahiru really is a duck! Transformed by the mysterious Drosselmeyer into a human girl, Ahiru soon learns the reason for her existence. Using her magical egg-shaped pendant, Ahiru can transform into Princess Tutu—a beautiful and talented ballet dancer whose dances relieve people of the turmoil in their hearts. With her newfound ability, Ahiru accepts the challenge of collecting the lost shards of her prince's heart, for long ago he had shattered it in order to seal an evil raven away for all eternity. Princess Tutu is a tale of heroes and their struggle against fate. Their beliefs, their feelings, and ultimately their actions will determine whether this fairy tale can reach its "happily ever after."

Background: The series originally aired in summer 2001 with a total of 38 episodes. 

Princess Tutu a magical girl anime series created by Ikoku Itoh in 2002 for animation studio Hal Film Maker. Inspired by ballet and fairy tales, particularly The Ugly Duckling and Swan Lake. Reviewers point out that although Princess Tutu is nominally a magical girl series, it is more of a "fairy tale set to ballet with a few magical girl elements mixed in," and its use of dance in lieu of violence to solve conflicts carries "surprisingly effective emotional appeal."

Genres: Comedy, Fantasy, Magic, Romance, Magical Girl

9. Space Dandy

Plot: The universe is a mysterious and strange place, full of even stranger and more mysterious aliens. Dandy's job is to hunt down unclassified aliens and register them for a reward. It sounds easy enough, but something weird always seems to happen along the way, like chance meetings with zombies, mystical ramen chefs, and adorable orphans. Hunting down aliens may not be easy, but it's definitely never boring. With the help of his sidekicks, the adorable robot vacuum QT and cat-like alien Meow, and his slightly-used ship the Aloha Oe, Dandy roams the galaxy searching for new alien species. What he usually finds, however, is adventure, danger, and romance, and no two journeys (or universes) are ever the same. This is Space☆Dandy, baby!

Background: Space☆Dandy reunites a number of lead production staff members from Cowboy Bebop , including producer Masahiko Minami and director Shinichiro Watanabe. Its production involved as many as 70 animation creators and 20 musical artists as collaborators, with Watanabe insisting that artists could only use pre-1984 musical styles. Although character designer Yoshiyuki Itou is credited as an animation director, his designs were not standardized across the series, allowing for individual animators to express their style.

The show premiered in Winter 2014 with 26 episodes.

Genres: Sci-Fi, Space, Comedy

10. Yuuri on Ice 

Plot: Reeling from his crushing defeat at the Grand Prix Finale, Yuuri Katsuki, once Japan's most promising figure skater, returns to his family home to assess his options for the future. At age 23, Yuuri's window for success in skating is closing rapidly, and his love of pork cutlets and aptitude for gaining weight are not helping either. However, Yuuri finds himself in the spotlight when a video of him performing a routine previously executed by five-time world champion, Victor Nikiforov, suddenly goes viral. In fact, Victor himself abruptly appears at Yuuri's house and offers to be his mentor. As one of his biggest fans, Yuuri eagerly accepts, kicking off his journey to make it back onto the world stage. But the competition is fierce, as the rising star from Russia, Yuri Plisetsky, is relentlessly determined to defeat Yuuri and win back Victor's tutelage.

Background: The series premiered in fall 2016 with 12 episodes.

The anime was produced by MAPPA, directed by Sayo Yamamoto and written by Mitsurō Kubo. Character design was by Tadashi Hiramatsu, and its music was composed by Taro Umebayashi and Taku Matsushiba. The figure skating was choreographed by Kenji Miyamoto,  who also performed routines himself which were recorded and used as skating sound effects. The series premiered on October 6, 2016 and ended on December 22, with a total of 12 episodes. A Yuri on Ice feature film is currently in production.

Released to critical acclaim, Yuri on Ice has been well received in Japan. It won three awards at the Tokyo Anime Award Festival, a Japan Character Award and seven awards in Crunchyroll’s inaugural Anime Awards. In Japan, the series was released in six parts on Blu-Ray and DVD, with all the releases coming No. 1 on the Oricon nimation Blu-Ray disc and Animation DVD disc rankings respectively. It was the second-most successful media franchise in Japan for the first half of 2017. It was popular on social media outlets such as Tumblr, Sina, Weibo, and Twitter, where it received over a million more tweets that the next most-talked about anime series in the season it was broadcast. It also attracted praise from professional figure skaters.

Yuri on Ice has raised discussion concerning its depiction of a same-sex relationship between its protagonists, with some critics praising it for covering homosexuality in a way that differs from most anime and manga. Dealing with homosexuality in a country and sport that has present-day issues with homophobia; others criticized its depiction for being unrealistic and ambiguous. The series has also been praised for its depiction of anxiety.

Genres: Comedy, Sports, Romance

Thanks for the ask only one more part left!!

[mmvalentine]

The Bargain Pt 7 | Feysand

Modern AU. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 8

Rhys and Feyre sat on the sidewalk passing a tray of chips between them.

Rhys had woken up in a good mood. The two of them were meeting at the mural site, and on the way Rhys passed a cart selling hot chips and slices of sausage with a curry sauce. Not a conventional breakfast, but delicious.

Today, he was spending the day alone with Feyre, making a giant painting, and he that sounded like the best offer he'd had in a long time. In fact, they would be doing this for the next five days. He had whistled on the way there.

Feyre had turned up in these adorable little paint splattered overalls, with her hair piled up in a bun. Part of Rhys wished he was painting her today.

They were staring up at the wall where their mural was going to go, armed with an array of paint tins and aerosol cans and discussing how to start. On the one hand, when designing the piece they had taken turns and that had worked really well. On the other, it didn't make sense for only one of them to be working at a time. In the end, they decided they would lay down the base structure, and work from either end until they met in the middle.

When they finished their chips, Feyre got up and started pulling out reams of string and weights from her pocket to make a grid, the same way she always started. Then the wind picked up, blowing the string out of her hands and Feyre cursed.

"What are you doing?" Rhys asked her, the corner of his mouth lifting.

"Making the reference grid." Feyre looked at him. "Don't tell me you were just going to freehand the whole thing. Don't be a hero, Rhys."

Rhys laughed. "I was going to use a lazy grid. Use a gibberish reference instead of a grid, so you don't have to get the lines perfect."

"I don't know what a lazy grid is, but if it cuts out the straight lines, then be my guest."

Feyre put the string back in her pocket, while Rhys picked up a can of pink spray paint and gave it a shake. Then he walked up and down the wall, making big sweeping letters all over the white base.

Rhysand is a spectacular person. Rhysand is the most handsome mural artist.

"Hey," Feyre said. "What about me?"

Rhys didn't turn, just filled in the last section of the wall.

Feyre you look absolutely delicious today.

The wall now filled with pink squiggles, Rhys back down next to Feyre. Where she smacked him across the arm.

"Since when are you such an outrageous flirt?" she asked him. "I don't know," Rhys answered honestly. "I'm just in a really good mood today." He smiled broadly, and Feyre rolled her eyes at him. But he caught her grin before she turned her head away, and his day just kept getting better.

Rhys completed his lazy grid: took a photo of the wall, uploaded it onto his laptop and then overlaid their design onto the photo. Instead of having a square grid as a reference point, they could now see what parts of the design matched up to what curly letter on the wall, and plot the painting scaled up.

And then they started painting.

By the end of the first day, they got the outline and main structure filled in. Feyre used a broad brush for her half, but Rhys used a lot of spray paints to cover large sections. At one stage, he got so lost in the process, unused to having someone painting by his side, that he nearly forgot Feyre was there. Until he took a step back to check the image from a far, and realised that Feyre had painted Feyre is the most delightful mural artist along the bottom of the wall where his pink script hadn't reached.

On day two, it was Feyre who showed up with breakfast. Fresh pretzels and pastries filled with cherries, and more hot coffee. Rhys traded his aerosols for brushes and they began painting in broad sweeps of rainbow colours, in Feyre's style. He painted blues across the bottom, yellows in the top, and a stripe of green across Feyre's left ear. She shrieked and flicked purple right across his chest before she had realised what she had done, and then looked mortified.

"Rhys, your shirt, I'm so sorry," she had said. Rhys pretended to be outraged for a minute, and then swiped orange across her nose before running away from her and letting her chase him down the street before calling a truce. And leaving a handprint on her back for her to find later.

On the third day, Feyre brought a speaker and they had music to work to. They added shadows and depth, and the image started to come alive before them. A wave of summer rolling from left to right. And everyday Feyre and Rhys worked closer and closer until they met in the middle. They had been swapping which side they worked on, too, so that they could make sure it was nice and cohesive. Rhys started leaving tiny messages in the spaces he knew Feyre was going to paint over.

I like the colour you put here, he wrote in one section.

In another: This bit reminds me of picnics.

And then especially well-hidden: I never thought I'd see you again.

When Feyre found the last one, she said out loud, "Rhys you big baby you have me on Instagram, you can talk to me whenever you like."

"I couldn't," he said, "you were a client." "I'm not now," she retorted, "so you can."

And then she returned to her painting, leaving Rhys to wonder what he might text her if he did.

Day four was the day of details. They picked up smaller brushes, and picked out careful patterns, finer outlines, points of solid black and white. Highlights, dot work, and the points on curls and tendrils. When they reached the centre, and then crossed the road to see the full effect, neither Rhys not Feyre could tell which parts were theirs and which parts were the other's.

Rhys whistled, and flung his arm over Feyre's shoulders.

"I think we might be done, what do you reckon?" he asked her. "I think we might be done, too," Feyre agreed. "A day early. We should call Tarquin."

Suddenly, it hit home that if they were done, he'd have to go home and Feyre would a continent away.

"No," he said. "Tarquin's not expecting us to be finished until tomorrow afternoon. Let's just have fun tomorrow, take the day off and tell him it's done at the end of the day."

Feyre looked up at him from under his arm, squinting through one eye.

"Rhysand you diabolical thing," she said. Then she stuck her hand out. "You've got yourself a deal." They shook on it, and Rhys breathed a sigh of relief. He was sure he could make one day last a lifetime.

"Come on," she said. "We'll just sign our names on the bottom."

She picked up the brush and put her signature in the corner, and then handed the brush to Rhys. He squatted down where she had been, pushed up his sleeves, and scrawled his name in next to hers. Then looked up and grinned at her.

But she was staring at his hands with her jaw hanging open. His smiled faded, as he followed her eyes and saw what she was looking at. Not his hands. His arm.

And the coloured tattoos that he had inked there after she drew them on in sharpie at their last booking a year ago.

****

Okay but lazy grid, or doodle grid method is so genius. I'm trying to write but my brain is mushy today so if you happen to be interested here's a great explanation video. Anyway I know I've slowed down a bit and I wandered off to make some Jurdan there, so thank you all for your patience.

Also! There seem to have been a flurry of new followers lately so if you are new here welcome and thank you so much for being here ❤️

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @philosophorumaurum02 @story-scribbler @allthecolorsneverseen

[kingsmanhartwin]

As promised, here’s what’s been going on with me over the last year...

So, I checked my AO3 and the last time I updated anything was the paranormal au in Janurary I think? And I’ve got like a hundred anon messages asking me what happened/where’d I go/where’s the rest of the wips???!? 

So I want to assure you all that everything started there is being finished, just slowly because there’s a build up, and the other fics promised are also coming underway, again slowly. 

There are a few reasons for this:

1. I have been in my fourth year of my undergrad since September. 

Normally this would be enough to explain the lack of activity because, you know, final year of my degree means ten times the workload, but in addition to the normal coursework workload I was writing my undergrad dissertation - a 74 page, 10,680 word snark-laden discourse on gender bias in the news media during national election coverage (10 points to whoever guesses that was written about). It ate most of my time. There were days I would be in the library from 8am and I would stay until 6am the next morning if i hadn’t left at 1am the night before.

2. Etsy Overload. 

My shoe business started picking up! In this year I sold more pairs than in the other three years I’ve been on Etsy combined, and while writing is just as enjoyable as designing and making these shoes is, unfortunately only one of those earns me money, which I kind of need to live on.

3. My writing was getting me down pt.1. 

Related to the dissertation in that I’d been writing analytical discourse for so long that writing anything else seemed nearly impossible for me, so I’d reach a period where I’d have a little time to write for myself and then trying to would bring me to tears of frustration because I hated everything I wrote and deleted it before I could post anything. I lost a few good chapters doing this for months. 

4. My writing was getting me down pt.2. 

Those of you who’ve been here for a while (since I took over the blog from Nicole over a year ago now) may know that I’m working on something original of my own, Metanoia (n.). This was one of the first things I ever talked about with a very dear friend of mine, and they were the person who persuaded me to write it for real. We’d live write on google docs and talk till 3am and headcanon and it was the most support I’d ever received from anyone as far as my writing was concerned, and it wasn’t as if this was something that already existed that we were fanning over, this was my own idea, my own little brainchild and it was amazing. And then that friend had to make an important decision in their personal life and they were unable to continue working with me on it. I was devastated. I had felt that I was writing this for them and then suddenly it didn’t have a point anymore and my enthusiasm died and everything went downhill from there and that had a knock-on effect on my fic writing because I didn’t see any point in that either. 

5. I rediscovered the point to Metanoia (n.). 

I was sitting in a coffee shop with a couple of reenactment bros one Saturday and they mentioned starting a weekly writing club. I agreed at the time and then when I got home I got sad again because what did I have to write that was worth writing. Then I took a deep breath and opened the word document on my laptop. 87,965 words, and I fell in love with each and every one all over again. I read and I remembered how it felt to be writing it, how it felt to be breathng life into characters I created, how it felt to put them through the ringer of everything I felt. I put my Spotify playlist on and for the first time in months my fingers touched the keyboard and I began to type. And then I kept typing. And then I threw caution to the wind and traveled North to where I’d set the book and spent my days writing along the shores of Loch Tay and wandering the mountain path between Kenmore and Fortingall. I’d walk 4 miles in at 8am when the sun came up, grab my favourite chair in the Ewe bar, chat with the locals who were fast becoming my friends, and write until lunch, then walk 6 miles back through the forest to the village and spend my evenings by the lake.

I worked out every plot kink that had been troubling me. I took the time to clear my head - something that really needed doing because my mental coping mechanisms were entirely self destructive - and I felt better than I had in years. I rediscovered a point to my writing, and my writing Metanoia in particular. I rediscovered my love of writing. I came back to uni with a new sense of balance and a determination to manage both the dissertation and Metanoia. I actually went to the writing club I’d helped form. My rejuvenation culminated in the rather large back piece inked into my skin, and while people kept warning me that it was silly to get something I might never finish let alone publish tattooed across my back, I love every line of it, and I don’t care if it’s never finished because that’s not the point. I’m not doing it to have a finished product, I’m doing it for me, to better my writing, to bring to life something I want to read. Even if I don’t have my friend reading it with me, and even if they never read it, all that matters is that I’m reading it, and I’m enjoying it. 

So, long story short, my life over the last year has been filled with a considerable measure of stress and anxiety, but my headspace is much clearer than it was before and from now on I am absolutely living the truth of Morrison’s words every day I draw breath:

“If there's a book that you want to read, but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it.”

- Phoebe x

[stuckinthekookiejar]

Distractions pt 3

Pt. 1 || Pt. 2 || Pt. 3 || Pt. 4 || Pt. 5 || Pt. 6  || Pt. 7 || Pt. 8 || Pt.9 || Pt. 10 || Pt. 11 || Pt. 12 || Pt. 13 ||  Pt. 14

Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Not really angst or fluff...I don’t really know

Summary: It was weird seeing him again. It was even weird knowing you’d be working with him, but you kinda had a feeling like it was going to be okay.

Word Count: 1721

Warning: like one use of the f-word...does this really require a warning?

“You wanted to see me?” 

“Ah, Yoongi. Yes, please take a seat.” Yoongi gladly accepted Bang PD’s offer and took a seat in front of his desk, “I wanted to talk to you about something. You see, I owe a friend a favor.”

Psh ‘favor’, Yoongi thought, Bang PD must’ve lost another bet again. He really should stop betting while he’s drunk.

“He needs help with something, and I think you’d be able to provide help.”

“What kind of help?”

“Well, you mentioned how wanted to try to produce for other artists. Since promotions are finished, and Bangtan isn’t working on another album yet, I thought I could give you an opportunity to help produce a song for another group.”

“Group? As in another idol group? Who...”

“You know 2S? The group under Music Box Entertainment?” Of course Yoongi knew, “They need help with a title track, and I offered to allow one of my producers to go do some sort of collaboration. So, how about it?”

Yoongi took in what Bang PD had to say. It was true, BTS wasn’t working on new music yet and he did want to try to produce for another artist. But he didn’t know how to feel about seeing...you. He knew this was a good opportunity to expand his credentials and gain more experience, but was it worth opening up a wound from years ago? 

It must have been worth it. 

“Uh, hello. I’m Min Yoongi of Bangtan Sonyeondan.” He bowed slightly at the five girls in front of him who in return bowed several times. The girls were obviously very excited to see one of their most admired sunbaenims standing in front of them. However, you were a different story. Yeah, you were smiling, but it was more awkward compared to the others’. 

Baek PD came around the aide of the long conference table, approaching Yoongi with a huge smile of joy and surprise,

“Wow, Bang PD said he was going to send over one of his producers...I never thought he’d send you! It’s such an honor.”

Yoongi waved his hands in denial, “Oh, no, no, no...”

“Ah, you don’t have to be so humble!” Baek PD pats the boy on his back, “But, thanks for agreeing to help us out. Why don’t we all take a seat, so we can start discussing the title track.” 

Everybody made their way over to the table but just stood there still in disbelief. Yoongi was right here. Yoongi was standing a few feet away from you. It was different from the time you ran into each other at that music show because now you’d actually have to talk to him...to interact with him. 

“Y/N? Are you going to take a seat...or do you want to stand?” Baek PD asked.

“Oh! Uh, right. Yes, I am going to take a seat...” You sit in the spot you always sat at. It just so happens that it was one seat away from Yoongi, and you thanked the gods that you had Sun-hee sitting in between you two. Seeing and talking to Yoongi was already enough for you, who knew how you’d fare if you had to sit next to him?

The meeting went on with no problems, other than you stealing quick glances at the pale boy who was once your boyfriend. You and the rest of 2S discussed with Yoongi and Music Box’s producers the type of music you guys wanted to make. Every time you stole a glance at him, you could see him quietly taking down notes on his laptop carefully listening to everything that each of the girls, you and Baek PD had to say. Finally, after so many years, you were able to see how he was in his element and you weren’t surprised. You knew he was the hardworking type, but seeing him actually work was such a nice thing to see. Sure, you didn’t want to see him. He made you cry. He made you insecure after your break up. He made you think, was I not good enough? But now, when you tried so hard to tell yourself not to feel anything towards him, you were feeling happy to know that he was where he wanted to be. He’s fulfilling his dream, and now you were fulfilling yours. Maybe working with him wasn’t going to be so bad.

“Okay, I think I have what I need. I’ll work with the producers and we’ll come up with some sort of demo in the next few days.” Yoongi stands and shakes Baek PD’s hand. He leaves with the other producers to get started on the song, but he doesn’t go without looking at you one last time. Your eyes lock for only a split second, but you could sense some sort of feeling in his eyes. It was a feeling you couldn’t read.

Yoongi came back to the dorms later that night. Kicking off his shoes, he entered the apartment and just goes into his room to finish writing the lyrics to 2S’ title track. His mind was racing with the picture of you bowing with your members greeting him earlier. You still looked like the same you that he broke up with, except now you looked more mature. You looked great. You looked happy. He wondered if you would be happy if he had stayed with you, if he hadn’t broken things off. 

Brushing those thoughts aside, he opened up an old notebook that he always kept for writing lyrics on the go and flips through the pages to see if anything would be useful, but stops when he gets to a certain page. Sometimes he’d glue things in his notebook. Anything that would give him inspiration he would put into this notebook, and on that particular page was a small wallet sized photo of you. His thumb glided across the image of your face.

“Hyung.” Yoongi jumped in his seat and quickly closed the notebook before Jimin could see,

“Jimin, you scared the fuck out of me. Can’t you at least knock?” The younger came in, rubbing the back of his head,

“Sorry, hyung. I just had a question...” He took a seat on Yoongi’s bed, “So my solo song I wrote for the WINGS album did pretty good...and I was wondering...I was wondering if I could help out writing another song...” 

Yoongi nods without hesitation. He wanted Jimin to explore his capabilities and if he wanted to write another song, then why not?

“Of course you can, Jiminie. Actually...” he thought to himself, should I tell him about this collab? It might be a good experience for him. 

He remembered that image of Jimin getting all giddy when you had mentioned him in that interview. He wasn’t so sure if he wanted to reveal that he was collaborating with your company to produce a song for your group which Jimin happened to like. 

“What, hyung?”

It is just one song...not like he’s going to sing with them...It’s not like he’s going to see you...

“...uh, well Bang PD gave me a project...and...uh well I have to write this song, you can help if you want.” Yoongi wasn’t lying. He was indeed writing a song, he just didn’t say who for. 

“Really! Wah, thank you hyung!” Yoongi couldn’t help but smile at his dongsaeng’s adorableness. He had Jimin pull over a chair and shared with him the notes he jotted down during the meeting. Yoongi enjoyed working with Jimin. They always played off of each other’s ideas very well, and soon enough the two of them writes an entire chorus and two verses within a course of only an hour. All that was left was the bridge, which Yoongi said he’d take care of. 

“Hyung, I got a question.”

“Yeah?”

“This song...it doesn’t really sound like something we would sing...is this not for Bangtan?” Jimin gestured to the computer screen that displayed all the freshly written lyrics. 

“Oh...well...I just wanted to experiment a little, you know?” Yoongi was glad to see Jimin nod his head as he bought his hyung’s excuse.

“Y/N-ah, do you mind passing me the cotton balls? They’re in the drawer to the left over there.” Sun-hee pointed to the dresser in your shared room. You were in bed comfortably rewatching your performances from your debut period, and so you groaned when your roommate asked for a simple favor,

“C’mon, Y/N-ah...pleeeeease? For your favorite unnie?” You could never deny Sun-hee’s puppy dog eyes, so you unwillingly got up from your comfortable position and grabbed the bag of fluffy cotton balls from the drawer. You hand the bag to Sun-hee who’s on the floor giving herself a pedicure,

“Thank you!” She giggled as you slumped back into your bed. She found it especially amusing when you continued to snuggle yourself deeper in the bed,

“What’s so funny, unnie?”

“Nothing. What do you think of Suga sunbaenim.” You stop rustling in bed. Your members loved talking about senior groups that they liked, but the sudden mention of Yoongi caught you off guard,

“W-what do you mean...”

“Mm, well I saw the way he was looking at you earlier during the meeting.” Luckily you were covered with the pile of blankets covering you so that she couldn’t see the flustered look on your face,

“He was...looking at me?”

“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t notice Y/N-ah. I saw him stealing small glances at you...hmmmm....maybe somebody has a little crush.” Sun-hee squealed as she got up to poke at you,

“Oh, shut up unnie. I’m pretty sure that you’re just over analyzing the situation.” You told yourself that, but you couldn’t help but hope that perhaps he was looking at you. 

“Whatever, Y/N-ah. I’m just saying...if an opportunity comes your way...” you took a pillow and threw it at Sun-hee who manages to catch it before it hits her in the face, “Yah!” She laughed as she began to commence in an intense pillow fight with you. You didn’t care if she whacked you in the face, as long as it got her mind away from the thought of Yoongi. It must’ve worked because Sun-hee didn’t mention one word about him for the rest of the night, but you, on the other hand, couldn’t get Yoongi out of your mind.

A/N: sorry that this part kinda just felt like filler...but it sorta was...but hopefully the next part will be exciting

Gif not mine, credits to the owner