#and i guess i could just find random notes online and use them but. t-too much work

[linagram]

everyone's album covers, song previews and album trailer voicelines!

YESSSSSSSSSSSS I'M FINALLY DONE WITH ALL OF THEM *falls on the floor*

okay okay i'm actually kinda proud of myself?? :'D like i always prefer just. drawing characters even though i don't really avoid drawing backgrounds and i don't find drawing them that difficult but i rarely pay attention to things like. doors so yeah it's kinda cool that i've managed to come up with ten different door designs and draw them! even though most of them don't even look like doors. it's okay listen i just wanted to make them as weird as their mvs okay

(also about some prisoners having the symbols on their uhhh restraints and most of them not having them. well you see i just didn't have any energy left to draw them so i was like "it's fine i'll just draw the actual symbols later" and guess what. i didn't :) and i'm too tired to draw all of them so y-yeah. honestly maybe i'll change the symbols to something else like it takes way too much time to draw them and they're not even that close to the canon ones)

okay sorry for rambling, you can read everyone's song previews, titles (though you can see them on the covers, but still. or maybe you can't see them i'm sorry if the text is hard to read 😭) and album trailer voicelines under the cut! and also more of my rambling

Album trailer voicelines:

Akio: "DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!"

Aimi: "Don't you think that's kind of.. unprofessional?"

Shun: "I-Isn't it a good thing that I'm getting better?"

Naomi: "But in the end, I've simply decided to agree with you."

Kei: "It's time for your punishment, Eiji~"

Eiko: "It's like.. your life finally has a purpose."

Asahi: "I wanna go home, even if I don't have one anymore."

Yurika: "THIS DOESN'T MAKE ANY FUCKING SENSE!"

Riku: "Haha, trust me, I'm strong enough to do that."

Reina: "So, yeah, the show's over."

Song titles:

Akio: The King's Execution

Aimi: Mask of Kindness

Shun: Wrong Route

Naomi: Your Story

Kei: Web of Desire

Eiko: As Seen On TV

Asahi: 'Cause I Deserve It

Yurika: Bitter Aftertaste

Riku: Trendsetter

Reina: Death of the Author

Song previews:

Akio: "Come on, fight me, punch me, beat me to death,

Show me how you've really felt about me all this time

There's no one left to support me, no one left to call me "Your Majesty"

I guess it's time for me to admit my defeat" 

Aimi:

"Let's have as much fun as we can today, like this is the last day of our lives

I won't ask you to be careful, I know you won't listen to me anyway

Let's make these moments more colorful than ever before

Let's turn today into our best masterpiece"

Shun:

"I know that this is the best option, I don't even need a guide

"Real life"? What's that? Some kind of joke?

I know you will love me in every world and universe

Tell me I'm your everything, let me get the best ending"

Naomi:

"I can't believe I found out about this only now

Why didn't you tell me sooner? Why didn't anyone else tell me about this?

Your life was so short, but so full of pain

Does this mean that I've saved you from all that suffering?"

Kei:

"Congrats, you've fallen right into my trap

Make yourself comfortable, you're in for a long ride

Tying you up, choking and biting

Keep your eyes on me, take those rose-colored glasses off"

Eiko:

"Yay, she did it, good for her! What an icon, am I right?

Haha, thank you, thank you! Serves him right, I know

You've forgiven me, darling, so let me thank you properly

Tell me what you want, I will give you everything and more"

Asahi:

"Give me more, you know that it'll never be enough for me

You want me to repay you? That's funny

Why should you give me so much and get nothing in return?

It's obvious, 'cause I deserve it"

Yurika:

"Please, please, make my world sweet again

This world is so cold, so bitter, if I take a bite, I'll get poisoned for sure

Hey, hey, what are you saying? You want more sugar as well?

Sure, anything for my master! But you're not her, so get out."

Riku:

"Now, listen, I don't like to do this

I'm not the type to abuse my power

But looks like it's time for you to get what you deserve

So get him, everyone, I'll pat you on the head later"

Reina:

"What about my crime? What about my sins?

Well, why don't you figure it out yourself?

I'll let you decide, I'll let you write my story

Aren't you the one who's supposed to judge us anyway?"

Random facts about everyone's song titles, lyrics and doors (spoiler-free. mostly):

The silhouettes from Akio's T1 MV are back!

If you've read Aimi's T1 MV description, you probably already went "Wait, is her song title a reference to that mask from her video?" and you are correct!

Shun's song title is kinda supposed to be a pun? Basically it's a reference to dating sims, character routes and all that stuff, but it's also supposed to mean taking a wrong path in life or something like that.

Naomi's song title was the hardest one to come up with and it turned out to be the most boring one. I am so sorry.

I actually wouldn't say that Asahi's door shows his MV that well, since his video will actually have mostly white and green colors, but I thought that a door like that would look boring, so yeah, I made it more colorful!

"Why is Yurika's door like that?" Oh, don't worry, compared to Asahi's door, Yurika's door shows her MV perfectly fine <3

Riku's door. Riku's door made me go through so much pain, IT WAS THE LAST DOOR I CAME UP WITH. I LITERALLY HAD NO IDEA WHAT TO DRAW. Not even because I dislike his MV, it's just that his MV has this motif that's. Very hard to show as a door. Like all ideas I had just sounded stupid so I decided to go with something like this instead. Also I still hate drawing chains and I used a brush instead.

Yes, Naomi's door just. Looks like a diary. BUT I TRIED TO MAKE IT LOOK LIKE A DOOR OKAY I TRIED

Reina's door having a more "actor-like" motif probably doesn't make much sense because of the song title, but trust me, it does. And yes, her song title is based on the trope of the same name.

Aimi's song lyrics kinda sound like a sequel to her T1 song though i guess her t2 song can be called that here, but the rest of the lyrics sound more different. And yes, there will be more of their song lyrics in the MV descriptions this time >:)

Kei's song lyrics are actually supposed to be much more sad this time and even the chorus will sound differently in the end.

Reina, please, stop breaking the fourth wall, you're becoming way too powerful.

#also i apologize in case it's hard to tell which characters were voted guilty/innocent like #i tried to do the same thing canongram is doing with them standing in different ways #but i'm afraid their poses don't look that different djdksklsdl #i actually wanted to draw notes on riku's door too but then i remembered that i don't know anything about music #and i guess i could just find random notes online and use them but. t-too much work #i could use the notes as a reference to a song that tells something about riku's character or something but. oh well 😔 #(i think i would end up going with something more funny instead) #ah and also yes their album covers show their second image colors too #milgram #milgram oc #milgram project #ocgram #👑prisoner 001: miyagawa akio👑 #🌸prisoner 002: hanasaki aimi🌸 #💔prisoner 003: ishizu shun 💔 #🌿prisoner 004: chiba naomi🌿 #🍓prisoner 005: sanada kei 🍓 #💎prisoner 006: yoshioka eiko💎 #🍬prisoner 007: yano asahi 🍬 #🎀prisoner 008: maruyama yurika 🎀 #🎸prisoner 009: kuroki riku 🎸 #🎭prisoner 010: himura reina🎭

[horansqueen]

Headlines - Chapter 2

Story Masterlist ✨

❤  chapter 1 ❤

NOTES  ❤

❤ written from both Niall and Ophélie’s POVs ❤ i don’t proofread, I never do, I hate it. ❤ OU comedy/fluff/smut/romance ❤ 3.1k ❤ i accept requests and ideas for this story, so message me in my inbox! ❤ if you want to be notified when this story is updated (or be taken off the update list) CLICK HERE

Ophélie

It was way too early for my taste and even thinking about getting dressed made me want to crawl back in bed. I decided to put on sweatpants, a t-shirt and forget the make-up for the day. All I was driving on to actually get up and leave was the promise that I could go back in bed in a few hours, as soon as i'd get back home.

I walked out of the apartment quickly to make sure I wouldn't have to talk to Patricia, my roommate, and almost fell asleep in the bus. It took me forever to find the right building and as soon as I stepped foot inside, I regretted my outfit. A place like that deserved a skirt or at least a pair of skinny jeans and a nice top. I moved my head down and pushed my hands in my pockets as I walked to the elevator. To my misfortune, there was a large mirror right next to me and it made me realize that I looked like I literally had just jumped out of bed... or simply like someone who hadn't slept at all. My hair was a mess and I quickly passed my fingers in it as the doors opened.

It was too late to go back home and choose an other outfit and I hadn't brought any make-up with me either. I felt my heart jump in my chest when the door opened again and felt suddenly relieved when I realized it was almost empty except for the secretary and some random guy, standing up with his back facing me and his hands on his hips. He seemed a bit annoyed and impatient but I just breathed in and walked up to the woman sitting behind her desk, licking my lips until she looked up and sent me a smile.

"Uhm, hi, I'm here to see Lucy Finley."

The woman smiled more and nodded, checking on her computer and looking back up at me again.

"You can sit down, it won't take long."

"Thank you."

I could feel my hands sweat and wiped them quickly on my sweatpants. It was ridiculous to be so nervous. I hadn't done anything wrong but It felt like I did and that I woke up at 6 in the morning only to get grounded or yelled at. I took a seat and starting playing with the rings on my fingers as I tried to breathe ain and out slowly to calm down. I didn't know if it was a movement or a sound I made but after a minute of two, the guy turned around and our eyes met. I literally almost fell down my chair when I realized who it was. He looked at me with a frown and suddenly, he raised his eyebrows like he actually recognized me. I almost looked behind me to see if there was not someone else standing there but he was really looking at me and I licked my lips again nervously.

"Oh hey, aren't you the girl who's obsessed with Viktor Montalvo?"

I felt my heart jump in my throat and pressed my lips together. Were those words really the first ones Niall Horan was telling me? How embarrassing and insulting was it to be told that by someone like him?

"Oh hey, aren't you the guy who cheated on Lyla Fraser and who knows how many other chicks?"

His amused smile fell and he looked at me from head to toes before looking back in my eyes. "You shouldn't believe everything you read online, darling."

"Well, back at you." I replied rudely, making his eyebrows raise again.

"Come on, everyone is obsessed with Viktor Montalvo."

"Not me." I argued quickly. "I only pretend to be in a movie."

His lips parted to answer something when a door opened near us and we both turned around. I held my breath when I noticed the way Lucy was looking at me and we ended up sitting in an office that wasn't hers. Niall, however, seemed quite at ease and I guessed it was probably his agent's office or that he was just always laid-back.

"You're both giving us headaches." was the first thing that came out of Lucy's mouth.

I wanted to argue and claim it was not my fault but I knew it wouldn't change anything. Niall, whoever, moved closer to the desk and leaned both his hands on it to look at the man sitting there.

"You know Lyla is talking shit."

"Maybe, but everyone seems to believe her."

"I've never cared about things like that, I have no idea why I should start caring now." Niall let out, making the left corner of my lips raise up.

"Except you just released a new album and now they're boycotting it. There's even a movement on twitter at the moment." his agent said, getting up slowly. "There's even a hashtag with your name and a certain qualifier that started with an A going around."

"My fans are-"

"Your fans are pissed, Niall." he cut him quickly with a soft voice. "Many of them loved Lyla, and the others don't want to see you as a cheater."

"I'm not starting a war with her, it's useless. All I care about is my music."

"No war, just a good old PR stunt." he corrected, shaking his head lightly.

"Stunts are a pain and too complicated, never been in one and never needed one."

"Now you do."

They both kept silent for a while and I heard Niall sigh as I watched the scene  with my heart beating so fast I thought I was going to have a heart attack. Slowly, he turned his head my way and when our eyes met, my heart literally stopped.

"With her?"

"Ophélie had a few problems with Viktor, apparently. And since he's your friend, maybe it would help if you two pretended to dare for a while." Lucy explained, making my eyes get bigger.

I didn't know what bothered me the most : the fact that Viktor and Niall were friends, or that I was going to be forced to pretend to be Niall's girlfriend.

"Wait." I talked for the very first time since we walked in the room while getting up. "You want me to pretend I'm in love with him?" They all stared at me and I shook my head gently, letting out a nervous chuckle. "I don't think I can do that."

Lucy took a step closer and I put my attention on her immediately. She just had this incredible presence that seemed to always filled the room. At first, that's why I had picked her as my agent. Now, I was not sure it was my best move.

"You're an actress, Ophélie, so act."

I could feel Niall's stare on me, making my cheeks burn before I swallowed hard. I had nothing to answer to that. I was, in fact, an actress, and if I couldn't pretend something easy like that, then perhaps I should just give up on this career altogether, right?

I turned to look at him and he held my gaze, making my heart jump in my chest. I didn't move, I just breathed in and sighed while still staring at him. I didn't want to be the first one to look away, as if this was a competition and that the winner would be proved to be stronger than the other. I wanted to be stronger or at least, I wanted to give that illusion. I knew I was new to all this and that I didn't really know how it worked but somehow, I wanted to prove I was worth it, because I was.

"Fine. How does it work?"

I could have sworn Niall's traits softened slightly but he quickly looked away. I thought it would make me feel happy to have won this little staring game but I felt my heart sink in my chest for a reason I ignored.

"It works exactly how you think it works, little one." he replied in an annoyed tone.

What really surprised me though was the nickname he gave me and I felt my whole body throb at that word, as if I couldn't believe it had came out of his mouth.

"Do we need to like... kiss and stuff?"

I heard a few sighs in the room and suddenly felt ridiculous. Niall rolled his eyes and turned around, passing his hand in his hair and walking slowly to the window.

"This will never work out." he let out, shaking his head. "This is going to end badly."

"I guess if I can kiss Viktor I can also kiss Niall." I answered, looking at Lucy and raising my eyebrows. "An asshole or an other, bet they taste the same."

The room went quiet and when Niall turned around to look at me, there was an amused smile on his lips. It pissed me off to see him enjoy it. I sort of wanted to piss him off and was a bit disappointed that it hadn't worked.

"I'm in." I just added, my eyes never leaving him. "Where do I sign?"

NIALL

There was nothing I enjoyed more than being at home all by myself. I had traveled so much in my life, had shared hotel room and tour buses with so many people, and had been so busy before that even just a day by myself in my quiet apartment was delightful.

I had to leave all my comfort very early in the morning for a meeting with my agent and that made me in a bad mood. The fact that I was not a morning person clearly didn't help but most of all, the reason why I was here was bothering me.

As soon as I saw her, I knew who she was. She didn't seem used to be recognized because when our eyes met for the first time, she frowned slightly and seemed to get suddenly nervous.

I was tired, annoyed and pissed, that's why the first thing I told her was the crap Viktor had told me the night before. I shouldn't have mentioned it, or at least not that way and at that moment, but it was too late. The way she threw it back at me though really surprised me. She was annoying, a bit naïve and quite short-tempered, but it showed she was just as tired as I was and I couldn't blame her.

"Why should I do a PR stunt with someone so oblivious to all this, Matt, tell me." I asked in a low tone, glancing at the brunette who was reading the contract.

"She's new, she's different, and your fans can literally relate to her. She needs the push and seriously, right now, you need it too."

I glanced again at Ophélie and sighed low before nodding slowly. "Do we have a story written or do we just lie as we go?"

Matt didn't answer and I looked at him again. He knew I hated lying, I preferred to find a way to answer questions without lying but this time, I would have to tell very big lies and I could read on his face that he felt guilty about it.

"Just a small story. You met here, through Lucy and I. Your first date is friday." I nodded and he sighed again. "Are you really ready for this, Niall?"

Once again, I turned my head to look at the brunette I was about to pretend to be dating and put my hands on my waist. I didn't have to love her, I didn't even have to like her, i just had to make everyone believe I did.

"Yea, I guess. She just gets on my nerves. I don't know why, she just does."

Matt chuckled and I raised my eyebrows at him. "What?"

"I'm pretty sure you get on her nerves, too." he admitted, crossing his arms on his chest. "She called you an 'asshole', which is the word trending on twitter right now."

"Great."

"She just annoys you because she's not mesmerized by your charm and she can put you in your place."

I raised my nose up and groaned low. Maybe he was right, but I still felt like it was deeper than that. There was something about this woman that I couldn't decipher and somehow, I hated it.

"Am I allowed to tell my best friend?"

Quickly, I turned around and raised my eyebrows at her. "No, sweetheart, you can not tell anyone."

"So I'm supposed to risk the friendship of the only friend I have for what? A fake relationship?" she asked, obviously pissed. "And stop being so condescending!"

I rolled my eyes and shook my head lightly before taking a few steps in her direction. I knew she was not used to these situations and I couldn't pretend I was either, but she was making this harder than it was supposed to be, and I wanted to cancel everything until we could find a girl that would gladly jump into this masquerade. It would definitely be easier.

"For your career and your reputation." I pointed out.

"My reputation, are you serious?" she asked rudely, walking closer.

"Very. But hey, if you want to let Viktor spread all those rumors about you, go ahead. He'll be ecstatic. You should hear him when he talks about you."

By then, she was so close I had to tilt my chin down to look in her eyes. They were green with a hint of gold around the pupil. I didn't even know this was possible.

"Viktor can kiss my fat ass."

"He says you're the one kissing his."

I saw anger appear on her face and for some reason, it made my lips curl into a smirk. It was funny how easily she got angry when I mentioned Viktor and the first thing that crossed my mind was how fun it was going to be to do everything I could to make her loser her temper.

She smelled like a mix of vanilla and rose and I was not sure how I felt about it. It was quite surprising since she appeared to have literally just jumped out of bed. How she managed to smell so good despite the fact that she didn't make any effort in her outfit was a mystery and I blinked a few times before raising my eyebrows, waiting for her answer. I could tell she was trying to stop some mean words to come out of her mouth but I desperately wanted to hear them.

"Alright, Ophélie, we're leaving. It was a bad idea." Lucy let out. Neither of us moved, though, and we kept looking at each other.

"I want to do it." she let out in a low but determined tone, her eyes getting slightly smaller.

"No, come on, let's go. I'll find someone else for you. An actor like you."

"I said I'm in." she argued, moving her chin up as I raised my eyebrows. "If I can make everyone believe I'm in love with this prick, then I can get any role in any movie ever."

It was the very first time I noticed her accent and once again, I was surprised. I should have known english was not her first language because of her first name, but I was too busy pissing her off. It was cute and fucking annoying at the same time.

Lucy sighed and gave up, grabbing Ophélie's arm to pull her away from me. It took us about an hour to fix everything and when they closed the door behind us, we walked together to he elevator. I was tempted to use the stairs if only to be away from her but I changed my mind.

"I don't like you." she let out, leaning against the wall and closing her eyes. "And Corey's gonna kill me."

"Who's that?"

"My best friend." she shrugged with a sigh. "My only friend here."

"You live with him?"

"No, I live with an insufferable bitch."

This time, my lips curled and I let out a chuckle. She had a dirty mouth and was probably way too honest for Hollywood, but it was definitely a good change from the famous people I normally hung out with.

"He'll forgive you." I just pointed out with a shrug.

"I'm not so sure about that." she whispered, looking down at her shoes. They were dirty with small rainbows on them, and the laces were hidden under the tongue. Who wears their shoes like that? "But I know he wants Viktor to suffer as much as I do."

"Yea, Viktor's ego is quite impressive." I confessed with an other chuckle.

"You mean he's a fucking asshole, and he doesn't know me yet."

I turned to her and my smile got even bigger. As much as she got on my nerves, I would seriously love to see her get back at Viktor. He really deserved it.

"You're a wild little thing, aren't you." I laughed, raising my eyebrows at her.

"You have no idea." she just replied as the elevator's doors opened again.

We walked out of the building and I grabbed my phone, handing it to her. "Write your phone number, I'll text you."

She stared at my phone for a few seconds before looking back up in my eyes. I knew she didn't want us to keep contact and I was not so warm to the idea either, but we both just had signed a contract and she knew she had to do it. She sighed and grabbed my phone roughly from my hand, giving it back about a minute later. I noticed she had sent herself a text message to get my number and chuckled when I read it.

'You're the most beautiful girl in the world, Ophélie King.'

I looked up at her and sent her a big smile. "First message I supposedly send and it's a lie, this is off to an amazing start."

"You're an asshole."

"Apparently." I laughed a bit. "I hope I won't regret this."

"I know I will." she mumbled with a sigh. "I can't believe this."

I took a step back and raised my hands, palms up, with a shrug. "Welcome to the showbusiness, petal!"

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan story #niall horan love story #niall horan ou #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan writing #niall horan enemies to lovers #my fanfics #headlines

[1ddotdhq]

☘️Fri 18 Dec ‘20 💬

So today was a nice steady change of pace, huh? Louis sold out shows, Harry was on a run, Liam was on Omegle, and Niall was being Irish. 

Harry was spotted out and about in LA today on his daily jogs! He was wearing head to toe Nike and a black mask, which honestly is very sexy of him, love to see that. He was voted GQ’s most stylish man of the year (by fans!), and was 28th (haha) on Hollywood Reporter’s Breakout Stars of Hollywood. Ah yes, because, as we all know, Fine Line was the very first thing he’s ever done, career-wise, nope, nothing of note before that. Anyways, following all of the, uh, excitement (?) on the Harry front, twitter went and trended ‘harries’. Or that could be because ‘louies’ spent most of the day trending, too. You know them - otp: next to you! 

The European leg of Louis’ tour (now scheduled for next year!) went on sale early in the morning and it sold out just as quickly: Warsaw, Vienna, Prague, Zurich, Oslo, and Reykjavik have been added to the list of SOLD OUT Louis concerts, that’s some KING SHIT RIGHT THERE! Before that, he went online last night to like TWO separate posts of the exact same picture of Wayne Rooney’s son signing to Manchester United, which I know nothing about, except that the player being signed is an 11 year old kid and that has to be a bit unusual, no? Speaking of kids, his sisters (who are SIXTEEN) also tried to get people to understand, after even Louis' direct intervention wasn't enough, that it’s a bit odd to be so interested in how tall Louis is (or is not). Uh, yeah, it kinda is, and it’s SUPER peculiar (to steal Harry’s word - that Louis stole,) that people are bugging sixteen year olds about it. Maybe don’t. Anyways, they also said that he would be home for Christmas, and that they’re excited to see him. That’s coming up soon, for anyone who hasn’t been keeping up with Liam’s advent! 

Which, on today’s alarm, Roman and Liam compared the worst Christmas presents they’ve ever received (socks for Liam, bongos for Roman). If you want to give a GREAT present, though, Liam’s christmas merch is out, and it’s very, very cute: a red beanie with a white puff, red and white socks, and an ‘LP’ Christmas ornament, as well as a hoodie and T-Shirts with an intricate ‘Liam Payne Christmas’ design. We got Liam’s full iHeart interview from last week, where he talked a bit about his own christmas traditions and promoted Naughty List, which was added to the F1 Tracks playlist on Spotify and that’s ONE fandom crossover I didn’t see coming! And then the ‘Liam and other people part’ of the day: Liam went live on instagram again today. It was Liam and Tom Felton promoting Tom’s Boxing Day veeps show and being very cute and talking about possible future collaborations, and Tom signed off by saying “kisses on the bum!” which MADE MY WHOLE DAY! And Liam was STILL in a chatty mood, apparently, because he and Maya then went on omegle to chat up random people and serenade them with Naughty List. I gotta say, they FULLY put their faces out there and they're WAY braver than I am for it.  I am VERY interested in what they typed into the “interests'' bar to be matched up with strangers, but I’m sure we’ll find out more as more pictures come out. 

Niall released his ‘Dear Patience’ performance in the Royal Albert Hall show, saying in his newsletter that, “if this year has taught [him] anything, it’s how to be more patient...this song has taken on a whole new meaning for me”. He also made TheThings list of “10 pop stars who were completely self taught” (I’m sure Helene appreciated that). He also took to instagram to promote ALONE,  which is a charity that helps prevent homelessness amongst the elderly in Ireland. “Proud to be Irish,” Niall said, which was a shocker to everyone, I’m sure. And, in reply to someone on twitter saying that Heartbreak Weather ‘a gem of an album’, he said “tell your mates”.  Guess that means he’s done ghosting us on twitter, or at least when he’s got something to promote!

#harry styles #louis tomlinson #liam payne #niall horan #honestly im taking to my new role as hot oli like a jewel fish to water #which is to say i adore it #i said it yesterday and i'll say it again today; if any of the official HQs want to hmu about taking my places as an intern #that's totally cool w me #NOT TAKING MY PLACE AS IN IM NOT GONNA DO IT BUT TAKING MY PLACE AS IN BEING AN ADDITIONAL MEMEBER #they can pry these posts out of my cold dead hands im too attached to the team #also today's been a nice little day #anyways! #song of the day! #Cobracaine by the DMAs #also! the 'ghosting' joke IS a JATP reference in case you got that!

[jisungsmochi]

rest your love - lee haechan

don’t worry!! i didn’t forget about this series hehe,, i personally really liked this one!! i’m probably going to try and write more often!

anyways pls enjoy,, i’ll link my masterlist for the other parts of this series (nct dream as ‘the vamps’ songs)

word count: 2.2k 

summary: “when the world gets loud, baby you can rest your love on me”

haechan never understood why people liked to be chased. he thought that all he needed to do was ask someone out and boom, a beautiful relationship. until he befriends you, and learns that sometimes people just need a shoulder to lean on, before they can rest their love on someone.

//

I see you move, so I do understand

Why you get attention?

I hear you talk, but I don't comprehend

Why I get no mention?

“it’s physically impossible to dislike me, i’m just a catch” haechan brags while walking to his first college class, his friends, renjun and jaemin trailing behind him.

“just because everyone liked you in high school, doesn’t mean people will in college. it’s a completely different ball game” renjun rolled his eyes at how overly optimistic and delusional his friend was being.

“ah let him live, he’ll find out soon enough” jaemin chuckles softly as he and renjun wave to haechan,  scurrying off to their own lectures.

haechan shrugs, not taking in any of his friends words. he stumbled into the classroom, scanning for an empty seat. he quickly made his way to a spare desk, pulling out all his materials. just as the tutor walked into the room, his eyes met those of, who he believed, was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. you flaunted your way to the last empty seat, which happened to be next to the awfully cheery boy, smiling at you.

you weren’t having the best day, immediately regretting your choice of a desk mate. as soon as you sat down, haechan was a blabbering mess. he shot questions left and right at you, despite the fact you barely responded to any of them. you just assumed he wanted to make friends fast, or he was just a chatterbox. “so how are you doing on this fine day?” he mutters to you, but received a stern glare in response. you tilted your head to the front of the room, zoning in on your tutor. haechan would lie if he said he didn’t feel slightly deflated. usually he had no problem making conversation with strangers. but you were so cold, so uninterested, it really hurt his ego. maybe renjun was right, not everyone would like him. but haechan was an unbelievably stubborn optimist. he was going to befriend you, no matter how long it took.

//

And you know, you know where to find me

Yeah, you know where to go when you're looking for love

And you know, you know where I'm hiding

Yeah, you know

it had been over three weeks since haechan first met you and you still wouldn’t budge. you only spoke to him during group tasks, other than that you continued to ignore his advances. haechan got the message loud and clear that you weren’t going to pay him attention. it took a toll on his own self confidence, until renjun gave him a stern talking to,

“god don’t let her get to your head, dude!! she’s awful for not wanting to be friends with you”

haechan pouted, “but she’s so pretty, i can’t just ignore her”

at that moment, he received a notification on his phone.

y/n: is this haechan? i think you took my notes by accident

his eyes widened, how did you even get his facebook account?

he scrambled around his room, looking into his backpack and surely enough, there were your notes, prettily written up.

haechan: hello! i do have your notes, i can meet you somewhere to hand it back? maybe the cafe? we can get something to eat!

renjun was now peering over haechan’s shoulder, too invested in this interaction.

y/n: no it’s fine, just give it to me next class, thanks

after reading your message, renjun bursted out laughing.

“dude that’s brutal, she’s something else” haechan fiddled with his phone, glaring at the other boy. he clicked on your profile, sending you a friend request as he scrolled through your posts. he saw that your friends had wished you a happy birthday, almost a year ago. he then realised it was in a few days...

“i have the perfect plan to get her to notice me” haechan smirks, renjun rolling his eyes,

“you’re ridiculous”

//

it was a friday afternoon, when haechan stumbled into class. you looked over at him, expecting some type of greeting, but you didn’t hear a peep from the boy.

strange, you thought to yourself.

as you were preparing for the lesson, haechan pulled something out of his bag. you looked over, noticing a small pink box now placed on your side of the table. you raised your eyebrow at him, in which he whispered,

“happy birthday, y/n”

your face froze. how did he know it was your birthday?

you looked back at the small box, slowly moving your hands to open it. to your surprise, there was a red velvet cupcake, decorated with a ton of rainbow sprinkles. there was a tiny picket that said:

“happy birthday, cutie!”

you couldn’t hide your smile, which only made haechan swoon even more. you weren’t the type to make a big deal out of your birthday, but this gesture from haechan truly made your day. you bit your lip softly, eyes meeting his.

“t-thankyou, haechan. i really appreciate this” you smiled at him softly, not caring that you were now on speaking terms with him.

“anything for you, y/n” he cheerfully responded, turning his attention to the front of the room.

maybe lee haechan was worth letting in...

//

the days following, haechan would spam you with random texts throughout the day. initially you would have been annoyed, but after his generous birthday gift, you started to enjoy his company. although you wouldn’t say it to his face, you silently appreciated him.

“how is my beautiful, y/n doing?” he smirked as he walked with you after class. he’d always compliment you, each time making you gush inside.

“i’m alright, have a ton of homework to do though” you sigh, thinking back to the stack of work you had on your desk.

“oh poor thing! do you want to copy my work? i have it here right now i ca-“

“no, haechan, it’s okay. if i need help, i’ll just...call you or something” you paused, looking over at the boy whose eyes just lit up like a christmas tree.

“of course you can call me! call me anytime you want!” he exclaimed. you shake your head softly at him as you both continued walking.

once haechan met up with renjun and jaemin again, he couldn’t stop gushing about you.

“...and then she said i could call her! well she said she’d call me, but same thing” he explained your interaction to his two friends as they were eating at a local diner.

“so romantic” renjun sarcastically comments, causing jaemin to elbow him slightly.

“i think it’s a good step! i mean atleast she’s talking to you now” jaemin chimed in, feeding into his friend’s cheerful nature.

“yeah! i have a lot of hope for us” haechan smiles to himself, in which jaemin and renjun looked over at eachother before rolling their eyes.

you did end up calling haechan that night, as you were stuck on the very last question of the homework.

“y/n, it’s hard to explain, let me just send you my answer” haechan insisted,

“no, i feel guilty” you sigh, placing down your pen.

“it’s really okay, i want to help you” you bit your lip, eventually giving in.

“okay fine, but i’ll owe you something in return” you agree, hoping whatever he wanted wouldn’t be too bad.

“hmmm how about going to the movies with me this weekend? i know you wanted to see the new zombie one that just came out” he suggested. although you were shocked he was practically asking you on a date, were more shocked he remembered you talking about this movie.

“do you really think that is proportionate to what you’re doing for me?” you roll your eyes playfully, finding his advances quite endearing.

“yep!! take it or leave it” you hesitated for a moment, what’s the worst that could happen?

“okay fine, you have yourself a deal” you replied. haechan quickly put himself on mute (or so he thought), letting out a loud ‘YES!’, before returning to the call. you had heard everything, softly chuckling to yourself.

he was pretty cute.

//

That when the stars go out, you can rest your love on me

And when the world gets loud, baby, you can rest your love on me

“that ending was terrible” you pouted as you left the cinema with haechan.

“it wasn’t so bad, it could have been worse” he shrugged, leading you to the next location.

“hm i guess so, by the way, where are we going anyway?” you questioned, walking alongside him, observing your surroundings.

“this cool burger place i found online, here i’ll show you some photos” he pulled out his phone, swiping through the photos. you nodded along, agreeing to let him lead the way.

“y/n? is that you?” you heard a deep voice call, you head shot up, so did haechan’s.

“who’s that?” your mouth went dry. your body froze up. why was he here? why did he have to call out to you?

“oh my god it is you! long time no see” the mysterious boy approached the pair of you, completely disregarding haechan’s existence. he noticed how uncomfortable you were, eyes flickering between the boy and you. he placed his arm loosely around your back, the other boy’s eyes following in suit.

“oh i see, you’re dating someone. dang, i guess i missed my shot. he doesn’t seem like your type” the boy scoffed, arms folded as he stared you both down.

“w-we have to go” you finally bring yourself to mutter, pulling haechan along with you.

“y/n who was that?” haechan kept repeating, which only made you want to cry.

“he’s my ex, okay? just take me home” you sniffled, haechan immediately became concerned. he didn’t ask any further questions, driving you straight back to your place.

as he reached your house, he looked over at you, tears brimming your eyes.

“i-i’m sorry that our day was cut short. i was really enjoying myself. my ex and i ended on pretty bad terms and i would just like some time alone right now, i hope you understand” you sniffled, which made haechan’s heart ache.

“you don’t have to apologise. you know where to find me if you need me. i’ll be waiting for you to open up to me one day, y/n. however long it takes” he assures you, leaving you with a warm feeling in your stomach. you just nodded back at him, making your way into your house.

haechan sat in his car for a while, wishing he could take away all your pain.

//

you invited haechan to meet you at the local park. with no further questions, he rushed out of his room, eager to see you again. you waited patiently on the small bench, swinging your legs back and forth. you heard heavy footsteps approach, your eyes meeting those of the boy who radiated happiness.

“are you alright?” haechan starts as he takes a seat next to you, leaving a small gap between you both.

“y-yeah, i’m ready to tell you everything” you began,

“he and i ‘dated’ two years ago. i say ‘dated’ because well, i thought we were, but turns out he was just another player and i was just another pawn in his little game. it was my first relationship too, messed me up pretty bad. that’s why i tend to keep to myself, not really letting others in too much. he made me feel like every guy who gave me attention just wanted me for their own selfish needs” you sigh, eyes avoiding haechan’s. he wanted to hold your hand, but opted not to.

“he’s an asshole, you didn’t deserve that. i-i could treat you so much better i promise-“

“haechan, c-can we just slow things down?” you finally made eye contact with him, his face contorting into a confused expression.

“i know you like me, and i would be lying if i said i didn’t have a slight interest in you too. but i don’t think i’m ready for a relationship yet” you admit, worried for his reaction. but to your surprise, he didn’t feel sad or dejected at all. instead he smiled widely at you, leaning in closer.

“i’ll go as slow as you want. you can rest your love on me, whenever you need. i’m just glad to hear you like me too” he batted his eyelids, making you softly chuckle.

“thankyou” you whispered to him, moving closer so that your shoulders touched. the rest of the day was filled with random activities from the arcade, to a bike ride along the park’s trail and finally dinner. haechan came to realise that being with somebody wasn’t black and white. there was a grey area that lied in between. he didn’t care how long he needed to wait, all he knew was that he finally got you to like him. and that was enough to make him the happiest man alive.

#lee haechan #haechan fic #nct dream imagines #nct dream fic #nct imagine #haechan imagine #lee donghyuck #nct haechan imagine #nct writing #nct fics #nct college au #nct au #jisungsmochiimagines #jisungsmochi masterlist

[queen-bunnyears]

Murder on your mind ~ Tom Holland

Pairing: DCI!Tom Holland x DI!reader

Summary: Inspired by my love for B99, and my guilty pleasures Silent Witness and Luther. What more can I say. 

Wordcount: 5,4k+

Warnings: This is about a serial murder investigation, so it does discuss murder, violence, a chase, guns and shotwounds, a caraccident, unconciousness. They swear. Mentions of alcohol. A small kiss. 

Okay if you need help understanding uk police ranks, (I did) I looked it up. So we have a chief inspector who in this case is the highest rank. Directly under him come the DCI’s (Detective Chief Inspector). Then a DI, (Detective inspector) and for today the only other rank I use is an officer, which is lower in rank than the others.

“And then the remaining time of today's briefing is for DCI Osterfield, he has a case he would like to discuss,” your boss says. Harrison stands up from his seat, and picks up the clicker for the screen.

“Thank you, Miss Carter. So, anyone who likes to take a guess about the crime?” he asks, and immediately hands fly up. “It was committed just an hour ago. Janssen?”

“Money laundering,” Janssens confident voice thunders through the room. He often wins these betting games, but mostly because nine out of ten times it is indeed money laundering. Harrison shakes his head.

“Too bad, it is definitely a big break in,” Claire says next to you. You shake your head. For a break in he would be talking with the uniform officers, he wouldn’t have needed to discuss it. Unless the stolen items are over a million, but then the news would surely have spread across the city already, and the new apps hadn’t put anything online yet.

“Hostage situation?” Jimmy shouts from the desk behind you. Jimmy always wants it to be hostages, because he is the only negotiator at the station. But hostages are way too uncommon, the chief would have told you about it. You know what it is the moment Harrison points at you.

“Too bad, you are all wrong. Y/n, like to take a last guess?”

“Murder,” you say, clicking your pen and closing your notebook. You cock your head to the side, “And it must be real nasty if you wanna discuss it,”

“Bingo! So we have a big ol’ murder on our hands,” Harrison says, clicking to the next powerpoint slide. A photograph of a bloody crime scene comes up. “And it is not just on our hands,” he clicks and points dramatically to the man who comes up on the screen, “This is Tom Holland, DCI in Southwest London. He is gonna be helping me because,” the next slide shows three almost identical scenes. “It’s a serial!”

“Ohh Tom is a handsome colleague. I would love to do a stake-out with him, if you know what I mean,” Jimmy bends over his desk and whispers to you. You shake your head laughing.

“Jimmy, you have a problem in need of fixing. Have you tried going on a date?” you whisper back. You don’t move quickly enough, and his playful slap hits you on the back of your head.

“For the record, you are way too excited about this,” Claire says, and DCI Osterfield blushes slightly.

“I just want to catch him, and not be a total mood ruiner while informing you,” he replies, clicking to the end of the slideshow.

“Does anyone recognise something from an old case? He works really neat, so Holland thinks it might be someone who has done it before,” The briefing room stays quiet as no one answers. You shrug your shoulders.

“Well please dig in your memory today, anything you remember might help. We have to solve this. I will need assistance, and chief told me detective Y/l/n has just closed her last case. Wanna help me?”

“Yeah sure,” you say, folding your hands underneath your head. The pictures look awful, and nothing like you have ever dealt with.

“Great, we leave for the crime scene after this,” Harrison says, and you nod at him, “Okay, that concludes the discussion. If press asks you about it, direct them to me or to the PR people, don’t tell them anything,” he walks back to his desk while Carter stands up.

“Good luck today, don’t forget to apply for the training day next week,”

“Okay so what is the deal Haz?” you ask. You sit in the car, on your way to the crime scene. He drives, and you drink from the Starbucks cup in your hand, trying to get them to warm up. Police cars are always terribly cold.

“There were three murders last week in Southwest, and tonight one on our area. As you saw in the pictures, it is all done almost precisely the same. So naturally we have to go there, because it’s our area, but the DCI from Southwest will be joining us as well, because he has worked this case for days now,”

“Do you know him?”

“Tom and I were together in high school, and at the Academy. We are good friends. He is an excellent detective,” Harrison tells you. Harrison was in the year above you at the academy, but you never really interacted with classes other than your own. You fall silent, not having much else to say. Your mind goes to the slide show of the victims. All the same position, almost the same place of impact. The photograph of this morning's victim flashes before your eyes.

“Any info on the victim already?”

“Sally Stars, 33, she is a tourist from the US,” you see the image of her again. Small woman wearing a yellow raincoat, lying on her back. Her shoes next to her body, no bag or anything. A big red spot on her chest where the bullet pierced her skin. One shot, quick kill.

“Where in the US?”

“Phoenix, Arizona,” That tells you precisely nothing. Although you don’t know what you hoped for.

“Other similarities between this case and the others, beside how they look?”

“All of them are tourists. It is a drama, working together with all the embassies,” he sounds bitter. The happy, teasing Harrison is gone now. At the station you can joke around, but as soon as you go out it becomes serious business. You hope this case can be solved quickly.

“DCI Holland, please let me through,” you hear a voice say. You look up to see the man from the photograph walking up to you. Removing your gloves you come up from your crouching position next to the victim.

“Goodmorning DCI Holland,” you extend your hand and he shakes it. You put your globes back on while you introduce yourself, “I am detective inspector Y/n Y/l/n. I will be helping you and DCI Osterfield with the case,”

“Great,” he says, before turning away to Harrison. “Please tell me there is anything different on this one,”

“Not as far as I can see Tom,” Harrison says, a thoughtful look in his eyes, “but you know more of the case, does anything seem different to you?” Tom takes his time inspecting the crime scene. He lifts things, ruffles through the bagged evidence and asks for some extra pictures. When he returns to Harrison and you his face looks almost angry.  

“It seems like everything is the same,’ he says, suddenly he slams his hands down, “the fucker did it again. No fucking mistakes, how does he do it?”

“Something will come up,” Harrison says. You look around you, staring at the forensic experts who were bagging the evidence. The answer had to be here somewhere. Then you see a young man bag something a few metres from the body, at the edge of the scene.

“Hey, wait!” you scream, and you walk over to him, carefully stepping on the cleared ground. You almost smiled at what you saw, “Is that a,-”

“A phone,” DCI Holland says and he hurries over to where you are standing. You grab the bag from the stunned mans hands, and take out the phone. It feels icy cold through your gloves, and you see water drops on the side.

“It is soaked from dew and the rain this morning, I hope the lab can get something out of this,” you say, handing it over to Harrison, “It’s turned off, please keep it that way. If they dry it properly it might still work and that makes everything much easier.”

“This is new, the other bodies didn’t have a phone on them,”

“It’s his first mistake,” Harrisons says. You frown.

“Why do you think it is a man?”

“A wild guess, wanna bet on it?” he replies absently. Then he gives you the phone back, “what do you think of this? Does it tell you anything?”

“Old iphone, not a special model, Iphone 5. The case suggests that she is a big Harry Potter fan, that could explain why she was in Londen,” you take the case off the phone and grab the wet piece of paper that sits behind it, “And I wager she has a room in a hotel near Victoria's station. These are directions from there. To the right, past Victoria theatre, and so on. Call the station, they should be able to find the hotel,”

“That’s not right,” Tom says. His mouth is a thin stripe, and his forehead is wrinkled in a frown.

“Sorry what?”

“They already found her hotel room, near Covent Garden,”

“Then were would this lead to?” you wonder, inspecting the note closer.

“That is a very good question.” DCI Holland says, and he walks away. You stare at the piece of paper, as if it would start speaking if you look at it enough.

“Well, let’s go to this adress then,” Harrison says. You take a photograph of the paper and carefully put the phone back in the evidence bag. The ride is quiet, both you and Harrison deep in thoughts about the murder.

“Hello, I am detective inspector Y/l/n, and this is my colleague DCI Osterfield,” you show your badge to the man at the front desk. “We have some questions for you, regarding an ongoing case. Have you seen this woman?”

He inspects the photograph carefully and looks at Harrison. “Yes sir, I saw her yesterday. She came in to rent a safety box for a week. I can show you, although you need her permission to open it, or an official order.”

Harrison looks at you, and you shrug. “Shouldn’t be a problem. Can we see the box please?” he asks, putting his badge back in his pocket.

“Of course sir, follow me.”

“Nothing interesting in the locker, nothing in her hotel room. The first conversations with her family shows nothing of interest. There is no connection between them. Just the tourist thing. So based on that we have to assume he is killing at random,” Harrison is on the phone. He has big blue circles underneath his eyes. Probably matching yours. The second day on a murdur case is always heavy, as most of the evidence is processed, and the first results from the lab come in. You hear some murmurs on the other side and Harrison ends the call. He looks at you.

“Tom is on his way to us. He will bring his map of evidence and everything he gathered with the old cases,” you nod absently, looking at the giant board filled with photos, and the map. Red dots and lines all over the place, but it doesn’t make sense yet.

“Tourists don’t know the city well, so he might be able to guide them somewhere under false pretenses,” you say, “So maybe a cabbie? Who else moves anonymously through the city like that? I wanna see the CCTV,”

“There was no CCTV in the other cases,” Harrison tells you while typing on his laptop, “But we are lucky, they just placed a new camera at the shop across from the entrance of the park. They might have something. The officer should have sent,-” his voice trails off when he opens his mail and sees the file. Behind Harrison you see the door open and DCI Holland walks into the room. Harrison looks up.

“Tom, great, we were just going to watch the CCTV I texted about,” he starts the recording. The street on the screen is empty. “This is 21:00. Forensics guess she died around midnight,”

The screen stays empty as the video goes on to 21:00. At 22:38 a man walks through the screen with his dog. The small clock in the corner ticks through, 23:00, 23:30, 00:00. Just as Harrison wants to stop it you see something move in the corner.

“There,” you point at the bicycle that comes into view. A man is riding it, and when he turns into the park you and Tom see it at the same time. You shoot up, pausing the screen. 01:04.

“That’s her,” Tom says. Limp, on the back of the bicycle sits a woman, “is she conscious?”

“I don't think so, see here, he hits a bump and she doesn’t react at all,” Harrison says, playing the shot again.  

“Does he return later?” you watch the remainder of the video three times, but nothing appears.

“He is smart, uses another exit. Who knows what happened after this, we need more on him,” you say, noting the times and details in your book.

“First we need to know who he is. Did they run facial recognition already?” Tom asks, turning to look at Harrison, who shakes his head.

“No, we are the first to see this material. Get the boss, I want to run this man through the system immediately.”

“I know him,” Carter says. She sits up straight in her chair and starts the tape again. She pauses it right as the mans face is in view. “Jason Sanders, ex police officer. He used to work for me back in the 90’s. He has grown older, but I am like 99% sure it’s him.”

“If he is an ex copper his face should be in the system,” Tom says. You just nod, noting down the name, and opening your laptop to start a google search. Two clicks and you are on his facebook profile.

“Yes he is a perfect match. Look at these pictures,”

“Okay, I want Claire to run a background check,” Harrison says, pointing at her. “Names, friends, family, address, possible gun registration, workplace. I want to know everything you can find. First, run his face through the system, I want to be sure it's him,”

“Sure, that should take about an hour,” she immediately opens her laptop and starts typing. Tom clears his throat.

“So, two of us have to go to the lab and talk with the forensic experts. And one needs to go through the three cases, see if we can find a new link. I have stared at the cases for hours now so I think it’s best if one of you takes a fresh look.”

“I will do it,” Harrison replies just a second quicker than you, “Y/n can go with you to the lab. I believe Henry will do the post-mortem, so she is probably happy to go with you.”

“I will tell you one more time Haz, no funny business between me and Henry,” you say with a stern look on your face, but you smile afterwards. Harrison always jokes about the doctor at the lab who has a small crush on you. In return you tease him endlessly about the defense attorney who is just a bit too sweet and open to Harrison for it to be professional.

“Well if the two of you are done wasting time can we leave, Y/l/n?” Tom is at the door quickly walking outside, but his harsh look doesn’t go unnoticed by you and Harrison. Harrisons shrugs his shoulders and you follow Tom through the door.

“Can you tell us anything interesting?” you ask Henry who is standing in front of a big window that shows the postmortem room. You look inside, shivering at the sight of the body on the table with all it’s organs stashed neatly beside it.

“There are so many interesting things to tell,” he laughs at Tom’s annoyed face, “Let’s get to business,”

“Please,’ Tom sighs, causing you to roll your eyes at Henry behind his back. Henry points to the large body bag on a table in the far corner of the room.

“That’s her. Full postmortem will be done tomorrow, it’s busy, but here is what we already can confirm. Victim is female, nothing weird about her body or anything like that. He probably killed her with that one clean shot. She has been drugged, we found alcohol and ketamine in her blood,”

“Just like the others,” you add. Henry nods and walks through the lab to a screen. He clicks on some buttons. A file opens, and you see a tinder profile and some messages.

“But Jackie ran tests on her phone, and there was a damned good reason he kept the other two.” You look up interested at those words, nodding to Henry to continue, “She was on Tinder, trying to make friends to go out with during her stay. She has texts with a man whom she had a date with last night. He called himself James, and had a random model photo on his profile,”

“Did you run that profile through the computer? Anything?”

“We can’t track the phone that belongs to the profile. We are waiting for access to the profile so we can see his other messages, that should be here later this afternoon. There is a possibility this is the way he finds and contacts his victims,”

“Shit” you say. Tom looks at the text chain unmoving. “Holland, are you okay? This could be a breakthrough.”

“Yes, could be. But we know nothing yet. Nothing is sure,” he says curtly. He walks to the door. “You let us know when the rest of the data is in,” he opens the door, gesturing for you to come after him. You stretch slowly, and smile at Henry.

“Thank you so much for your hard work, this could really mean much for the case,” you say, sending a provoking look towards Tom, “And I am sure my colleague here is just as thankful, don’t mind him, he has a bad day.”

“No problem Y/n, see you later,” Henry replies, sending a broad smile your way. You nod one last time before following Tom outside.

“What was that?” the anger in his voice is apparent. You smile sweetly and pat him on the shoulder.

“That, DCI Holland,” you pause shortly and look him in the eye, “was common decency. Be kind to the lab, and they will be kind to you. That applies to more things actually,”

“Don’t tell me what to do,”

“Don’t be unkind then,” you say, smiling at him, ignoring the irritation that burns within you. Damn that man. But you have dealt with a lot of unkind, bitchy police officers in your days, you won’t let him bring you down. You walk towards the car, grabbing the key from Holland's hand. “I’ll drive,”

Stakeouts are your least favourite part of being a detective. Nothing is worse than sitting the entire day, hoping for something to happen. You always called it the most boring aspect of your job. Even paperwork was more exciting. Problem was, you were very good at stakeouts. You somehow always noticed the change in a pattern that pointed to whatever you were looking for.

You sit across Harrison, your teacups on the table between you. The cafe is extremely busy, but you barely hear the noise around you. Your head is in filter modus. Tinder hadn’t yet given access to the account, so you and Harrison went to the place “James” had met up with Sally. You have been sitting here all day, going over some paperwork to pass the time, and with every hour your hope of seeing the person who pretended to be “James” dies a bit.  

“What do you think will happen if tinder James is not Jason?” you wonder, stirring in your tea. Harrison looks up at your words.

“Well I am sure it has to be him. All the clues point to him,” he says, taking a sip of his tea. “The CCTV, suspects report, psychology sketch, background. His clean kills, any good copper knows how to clean up after himself. And we can’t find him at his home, because his wife kicked him out,”

“Good for her,” you mumble. Harrison chuckles, chugs the remainder of his tea and puts his papers in his bag. “Wait where are you going?”

“To the office. Tom is here to do the rest of the day with you. It’s only two hours.” he says. He gets up and stands up. He walks away, then turns around. He puts his hand on your shoulder. “Try not to kill him please,”

“Ha ha. I will try,” you say,

The hours with Tom are absolutely boring. He doesn’t even really look at you, let alone talk to you. And again, no one shows up. When the cafe closes you and Tom pack up your stuff, and walk outside. Then you feel your phone buzz. The screen flashes; Henry.

“Hey Henry”

“Are you in a car?”

“Almost, why?”

“Get in there and drive to Borough Market,” you turn to Tom and start walking faster.

“Get in the car Tom!” you almost shout as you run towards the driver side. Your emergency senses kick in, adrenaline courses through your body.

“We got to his profile, he has a meeting there in less than 10 minutes. Seventeen year old Canadian girl,”

“Shit,” you curse, and you slam the car door behind you. Your fingers fumble to get the key in the lock, but when you have it you immediately drive away. Tom hasn’t even closed his door properly. You put Henry on speaker and push on the button you put your sirens on. In front of you the cars make way for you.

“We’re driving, tell me everything,”

“We just got access to his profile, and we saw the meeting. At Borough market, 6 PM by the fudge stand. Harrison is at the station, he won’t make it in time. Look for Jason, and the girl has blonde hair, blue eyes. Her Tinder says she is nineteen, but we looked her up and she is seventeen. Harrison told me you two are closer, so hopefully you’ll be on time. He is on his way. I have to go,” you hear the beep that signals Henry has ended the call, and you take a quick left.

“Do you need me to navigate?” Tom asks. He is checking his gun, and picks a weapon stick from the glove compartment. You start to shake your head, but then you nod.

“It’s rush hour, could you check the streets I need to avoid?” you are calm now, your initial surge of energy is slowly leaving your body, making room for your more rational side. Tom is looking through his maps, and reassures you that you’ll be fine with the usual route. No detours.

“Could you check my gun Tom?” you ask, and you lean forward so he can grab it from your belt. He hesitates. “Come on I ask you to. You won’t even touch me. Quickly now ‘cause we are almost there,” He grabs the gun and starts to check it. You see you are getting closer to your destination, so you switch off the sirens. No need to alert everyone you are coming. Two minutes later you see Borough Market appear.

“Okay we both get out and walk to the stand. Do you know where it is?” Tom shakes his head. You park the car, put your gun back in your belt and cover it with your coat. “Luckily I do. Follow me, stay close, we don’t want to attract attention.” You walk towards him and he wraps his arm around you so you are close to him. It is an old tactic, one you have done about a million times with Harrison. You look like an uninteresting couple, and your heads are close, so whispering is easy. Perfect cover. But you feel Tom’s arm burning through your coat. That never happens with Harrison.

“Okay, lead the way,” he says, you shake your head to get rid of your thoughts and you start walking towards the market. You see the fudge stand, but no one suspicious around there. It’s busy, the market is closing soon, and the sellers are trying to sell their last bits.

“Do you see anything?” Tom asks, and you shake your head. You see a plate with testers for fudge and you walk over there. With the fudge in your hand you seize the opportunity to stand still and observe the whole market. Then you feel Tom shake your shoulder.

“There, at six.” you slowly look to your six o’clock, and you see a young girl. “She matches the description. We ought to approach her,” Tom says. You nod and step towards the girl, but then you freeze. At the other side of the market, close to your car, you see a man. Jason. You are sure, and then you see him dragging another young girl with him.

“Tom it's not her, there he is,” you don’t realise you are running until you feel yourself push people out of the way. Jason and the girl are about 50 metres away from you, but there are many people between you. Jason pushes the young girl in the back seat of a car, and you hear yourself shouting.

“Stop! Stop!” You run as fast as you can, but you feel your gut sinking. You are too late. As you see Jason step into his car you memorise his number plate. You try to throw yourself before the car, but you are too late to stop him from driving away. You pull your gun out, but you realise it is of no use in this busy street. You could hit his tires, but then he might swerve and hit some bystanders. You curse loudly.

“In the car, now!” you hear Tom shout from behind you. You start to run again, and launch yourself into the driver's seat. Your sirens blare, your tires screech, but you have him in vision. As you are driving you recollect your breath, and next to you you see Tom fastening his seat belt.

He calls Harrison, who says he can already see your car. Without looking away from the road you ramble the number plate to Tom, who repeats it for Harrison. You hardly hear their conversation, but you do feel the blood pumping in your ears. The car before you is driving unsteady, as if Jason is not yet sure what he is going to do.

“Where is he going to go? It is rush hour, traffic is awful! And he drives towards the city centre,” it doesn’t make sense to you. Until you see him diving towards a bridge over the Thames. Then it clicks.

“Shit, he is going to drive off the bridge!” you shout. You look to your side, and in Tom's eyes you see the same conclusion you just came to. Your mind races, searching for a solution. You see the car before you change lanes. You push the gas harder, accelerating and you also turn to the left lane, “I am gonna block him!”

“Are you sure? We might get hurt,” Tom panics. His hands are gripping on the side of his seat, his eyes wide from the adrenaline. Or fear, you don't know. Before you the car goes to the left, heading straight towards the rather fragile looking railing of the bridge.  

“He will hit the seat behind me, not us,” you say, changing lanes, “I am like 75% sure this won’t end up getting us hurt. Badly.”

“That is not very comforting, Won’t he push us off?”

“No I don’t think so, trust me Tom!” you are driving faster now, and his car is almost near the edge. The last seconds before the hit seem like ages. With a bang the car hits the side of yours, precisely in the backseat of the driver side, as you predicted. You moan in pain as you feel the impact.

“Get out Tom! Catch him.” you scream, trying to cover up the fact that you are in pain. Getting your own door open appears impossible, and you use your gun to smash the window to get out. You feel adrenaline rush through your body, your mind blank, nerves numb. Your moves are by instinct, and when you see Jason run towards you, you throw your body towards him, blocking his way and bringing him to the ground.  

“Jason Sanders, you are arrested on the suspicion of triple murder and attempted murder. Anything you say now can be used later in court,” you say as Tom gets the handcuffs on him. Behind you the other police cars all stop, and you hear Harrisons voice as you shakily get up.

“What was that!?! Y/n that was not safe!” you ignore his worries. First you need to see the girl. You stand beside Jason's car opening his backdoor, and you try to lift the unconscious girl out. Another officer takes it from your hands. “Are you hurt?” Harrison continues as he comes to a halt next to you.

“No I normally leak blood out of my side,” your adrenaline rush slowly comes to an end, and you feel the pain now. Your head feels heavy. “Probably cut it when I climbed out of the window. Also, I might have a concussion from the hit,”

Ten minutes later you sit in the open back of the ambulance. The victim is in the bed inside, and you were relieved to hear she had only passed out from the shock, but furthermore she was fine. After they checked on her a medic found time to stitch the scratch on your side. After their close examination your injuries are deemed minor. A deep scratch that looks fine after it is nicely stitched up and wrapped in bandage. After careful inspection of your head, they conclude you don’t even have a concussion.

But after that, you catch some faint whispers about shock and mental damage as they sneakily look at you. A blanket is wrapped around your body, and a few moments later, you also receive a cup of tea. And another blanket. You are about to run away when Harrison walks up to you. He clears his throat when he sees you, and gives you a quick hug.

“I have a lot of things to say, but none of them matter now. Well done on getting him,”

“Harrison, they keep putting blankets on me, I don’t want the blankets,” you say, shrugging them off and giving them to him.

“You’re in shock” he says, putting the blanket back over your shoulders. You shrug it off again.

“Yeah, not really. And even if, that wouldn’t mean I need blankets, I need booze,”

“Booze and a concussion are a terrible combination,” Harrison shakes his head at your comment.

“I don’t even have a concussion or pain meds. Really, I am fine. Where is Tom? I probably have to say sorry for risking his life.”

“Only if I file a complaint with HR,” Tom's voice makes you sit up straight and look around you. He walks around the corner of the ambulance. “Something I won’t do,”

“Oh great. Well I am sorry anyways. It was way too risky.”

“You executed it perfectly,” he says, a hint of a smile on his face, “Now I believe you said something about a drink, didn't you?”

Harrison laughs with you, but then excuses himself.

“You two go have that drink, I need to fill in all the paperwork. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,”

“Your loss,” Tom says, before turning to you. “Let’s go?”

“Lets go.” You say, smiling as he offers his hand to help you up. You think of slapping it away, but then you feel the stitches pulling in your side and you decide to take up his offer. Just this once.

~ One year later ~

“I can’t believe you had to almost kill him before he dropped his bitchy act,” Claire says laughing as she gives you the paper back. You and Tom shine on the cover of The Guardian, a press photograph taken on the night of Sanders' arrest. “J. Sanders locked up, evidence overload in serial killer case” the headline says. 

After the arrest things moved slowly, Sanders his lawyer was a very persistent man. But now, months later the court case was wrapped, Sanders' guilt proven, and the judge ruled for the maximum sentence. 

“Yes, his resting bitch face was a pain during that investigation,” you chime in, taking a sip from your beer. 

“I am glad I dropped it though,” Tom says next to you, his arm wrapped around you. You smile, pressing a kiss on his cheek. So much has changed. 

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #harrison osterfield #my writing #queen-bunnyears

[dayseternal-blog]

i think im running out of naruhina fluff/smut. T-T. Can you help me out? hihi

 🔍

you think you can hide behind anonymous 🧐  I’m quite certain I know who this is haha 😘

And for you, dearest anon, have three completely unfinished, barely started wips (EVIL CACKLES BECAUSE THESE GO NOWHERE)

But actually, if any of these one-shot ideas catch your interest, please let me know and maybe I’ll actually try to finish one of them?

Smutty Soulmate AU, where you meet your soulmate in your dreams each night upon turning 20.

When her alarm jars her from sleep, she’s always only left with a feeling and flashes of color.  Today...she desperately tries to focus, to reach back, to remember…

Excitement.  Red.  Dark.

Her heart beats faster for reasons unknown to her, and there’s no point in trying any harder to slide the experiences of the soul into her brain.  After pointless meditation sessions, longer naps, and all manners of effort with dream diaries and online tips, she’s been resigned to the fact that only her other half can unlock that translation of dreams to memories.  She has yet to meet her soulmate in person.

Ever since her 20th birthday a few months ago, since that nerve wracking night of meeting her soulmate for the first time, going out has been a secret manhunt.  Eyes peeled to every single passersby over the age of 20.  Any one of them could be the person she’s spent the last 200 or so nights with.

So she dresses carefully for a day out with Sakura, Tenten, and Ino.  They’ll be going to the restaurant where Sakura’s fiance works his part-time job.  For all she knows, her soulmate might be there, too.

A guy?  A girl?  Her age?  Much older?  She has no idea what she’ll say to her soulmate, either.  But she imagines that when she sees them, it’ll be like a homecoming.  Planning is unnecessary, right?  When it’s someone you actually see every night?  If they didn’t like her, she can’t imagine why she would wake up every morning with so much residual happiness and longing.

-------------------------------------THAT’S IT @bunny-hoodlum

Ghost-Hunting (Obake Hunt) Comedy Modern AU, Naruto & co. visit a college at night for some scares that take an unexpected turn...

A shadowed driveway leads up the mountain toward the private college.

“Is this it?” Sasuke asks, peering out the car window.

“Yeah, turn here,” Ino instructs.  

“Okay, but why is the place even open at this time of night,” Sakura states, arms crossed with a skeptical expression as Sasuke drives the minivan through the gates, up the grand driveway.  The dorms for the college were built at a separate location down the main thoroughfare.

Ino shrugs.  “They have all kinds of events that go on at night.  I don’t know.”

“At least we know we’re not trespassing if the school’s open.”  Hinata’s soft voice comes over the back seat.  

“I still can’t believe we actually talked you into coming with us!” Ino teases.

Sakura laughs, “We’re having a bad influence on her!”

Hinata shakes her head.  “Actually, I’m amazed that Naruto-kun is here,” she shyly replies.

Sasuke lets out a quiet laugh.  “Doesn’t mean he won’t shit himself if we find a ghost.” 

“Okay!, no!, I won’t shit myself, alright?” he immediately defends.  “...I might just scream a little, but I won’t poop my pants…”  He’s already in a protective stance, arms crossed, back hunched a little.  

Everyone laughs at him, but Hinata takes his hand, smiling half-amusedly, half to comfort him.  “I’ll protect you, Naruto-kun.”

That only makes everyone laugh harder as Naruto sinks into himself in embarrassment.

Despite Ino’s school being open, the parking lot is somewhat empty save for a few cars.  The buildings are magnificent in design, echoing back to an era when arched entryways and stucco were favored over walls of glass.  The hum of cicadas pierce through the still, late summer air.  

The small group of friends silently follow Ino back toward the driveway of the school with only yellowed street lamps lighting the dark sidewalks.  They cross into the street, stopping right in the middle at the fancy traffic meridian.  It’s an odd decorative aspect of the driveway they passed on the way up.  It’s right in the middle of the street, separating the in and out lanes, somewhat built-up and rounded with a grassy patch and flowering bushes planted high on top.  It really only serves to make the school look expensive.

Ino smiles, then whispers, “Put your hand here on the wall.”

“Why?” Sakura asks, also in a whisper.  

“Just feel it.”  

They do, all of them placing their hands on the wall, waiting for something to happen.

“You see how the plaster is kind of rough over there?” she asks.

They nod, their fingers dragging over the rushed job.

“...This is an ancient burial ground,” Ino explains in a hushed tone.

Their hands spring off of the wall, their fingers wide in stress at what they were just touching.

“Ino, what the fuck?!” Naruto hisses, barely containing his volume, his legs already carrying him away from the meridian and onto the side of the street. 

Sakura stares at her hand wide-eyed.  “Oh my gosh, we’re all cursed,” she laments.  She can practically feel the spiritual energy twisting around her fingers. 

Ino snickers.  “That’s what my course major senpais did to me.”

Sasuke and Hinata are silently trailing after Naruto with abject horror on their faces.  Hinata fists her hand uncomfortably against her skirt.  

Once they’re all gathered safely away from the meridian, Ino continues to explain.  “When they were constructing, they found the remains of the ancient natives.”

“So they just built that random thing in the middle of the street to house the bones and then continued on their merry way?” Naruto asks for clarification.

Ino nods.  “After they found them, they built that wall around the burial ground, and apparently they were in a hurry to cover it back up.  They just made the driveway go around it.”

They stand there, staring at the burial ground, picturing the bones just on the other side of the wall they touched, below the grass and bushes.  

“Did you have to make us touch it, though,” Hinata asks, regretfully, with a really sad frown.

“The spirits of the ancient warriors are going to find me and kill me in the dead of the night,” Naruto states, as if it’s already fact.

Ino brushes his paranoia off.  “We’ll, I’m still here, aren’t I?”  

“Note to all of us--don’t do anything Ino tells us to do,” Sasuke says.

Ino gives him a very evil smile.  “That’s not all there is to this place.”

“Why...why am I doing this…” Naruto asks to no one in particular.

She leads them deeper into the center of the school, where a large tree spreads its thick limbs over a beautiful cobbled courtyard.  A simple fountain beneath the tree spouts water, and pennies shine beneath the surface of the circular pool.  The gurgle of the water as it falls is relaxing, serene in the quiet of the night.

“Wow, this is nice,” Sakura says, looking around at the manicured gardens surrounding the courtyard.  

Ino nods.  “A girl hung herself here.”

They turn their attention to the blonde.  Suddenly, the peace of the courtyard feels like an ill omen.

She tilts her head at the large tree.  “They say that when this used to be a mental hospital, a girl got away from her caretakers.  She was found hanging from this tree.”  

They frown at the branches, wondering which one the girl chose.

Ino gestures to steps that lead to an academic building.  “They said that at night, you could see her ghost walking and talking to herself in the corridors, always bringing herself to this tree.  Someone suggested to the school that they build this fountain here to give rest to her spirit.”

“So no one sees her ghost anymore?” Sakura asks. 

Ino shrugs.  “I guess we’ll find out…”

“What?”  Naruto scrunches a face of distaste.

“Let’s go,” Ino invites.  

“Go where…” he whines quietly.

Ino takes the disturbed group down the steps to the building.  “Hm, I wonder if it’s open…”  She pulls the handle.

The door opens.

“Whyyyy is it open…” Naruto groans.

“But actually, though, why,” Sakura states.

“Maybe the teachers are still here?” Hinata suggests.

Ino laughs.  “Psh, what college professor cares that much about their job?”  She holds the door open, inviting them into the building.  “Welcome to the language arts hall.”  

The corridor lights are all on, assuring them that the building is, indeed, open.

They enter the hallway.  Naruto lags behind.  When the door shuts, he opens it again.  “I’m just making sure…”  He tests the handle a couple more times before closing it.  Then he tests it once more for good measure.

“You satisfied?” Sasuke asks.

“I’m just making sure,” he repeats.  

Hinata frowns, imagining the door locking them in while they’re inside the building.  

Naruto’s paranoia is only making things worse.

Ino starts ahead of them, and Naruto has to rush to catch up.  “Wait for me!”

“SHHHH!!” Sakura scolds, finger to her lips.

They stand there, noticing how her shush seems to echo in the hallway.

“This place is really creepy,” Hinata comments quietly.

Ino shrugs.  “Only at night.  I had classes in this building in my first year.” 

“So this place used to be part of the mental hospital?” Sasuke asks.  

“Yeah,” Ino affirms.  She brings them to a classroom.  “You see how there’s this little window that you can use to look inside?”  

They nod, taking turns peeking into one of the dark classrooms.  It’s a normal room with normal desks.

“All of the rooms have this hallway window, you see?  It was so that the nurses could check on the patients.”

“Oh gods,” Naruto mutters.

-------------------------------------THAT’S IT

College Ballet AU, Naruto sees a different side of his quietly reserved friend.

It wasn’t a trick. 

Winter had dragged its sharp claws across the ground as long as it could, but finally, finally, three seasonal false-starts and numerous wilted, early-blooming daffodils later, 

Spring had finally decided to stay for good.

Trees bloomed pastel pinks instead of icy white.  New hopefuls popped out of the wet dirt, ready to face the sun.  Birds were suddenly a real thing again.  

Students strolled across the college campus in shorts and light sweaters, eager to shed the winter coats they had worn for six straight months.

And most importantly…

“The forecast is in the high 50s all week!” Ino announced as she pranced into the room, swinging her dance bag to the floor.

“Oh!!  Remember last spring we had class outside?” Sakura asked, turning her attention to their ballet instructor.

“Can we have class outside, Kurenai?” Ino pleaded, eyes wide in hope.

“Hm, the weather is nice today.  I suppose it is a shame to stay indoors on an afternoon like this,” she considered aloud.

Hinata listened with alarm.  She had never danced outside before, never in her 14 years of dancing.  Yes, she had danced on stage before, had performed in front of many strangers before, but still...  Everyone will see us, she worried.  

“I didn’t bring my speakers today, though,” Kurenai continued.

Before Hinata could feel any relief, Tenten pulled out her tech from her bag.  “You can bluetooth your phone to mine!”  

“Awesome, Tenten!” Sakura exclaimed.

“Oh, please, Kurenai?  Can we have class outside?” the other girls begged.

Hinata already knew her fate.  She was going to have to wear her body-conforming leotard and tights in front of the entire student body.  Nevermind the fact that the last time she had gone barefoot on grass was in elementary school.

They all picked up their belongings and made the quick trip to the center lawn.

As she predicted, many students who were already finished with their classes for the day were enjoying the afternoon weather, laying out in the grass reading or playing frisbee.  

And here they were, in their leotards and tights, about to have their whole ballet practice for all to see.  

“There’s so many people,” she whispered in embarrassment to Sakura.  

The pinkette looked at Hinata in confusion, then sympathy.  “Don’t worry.  Just relax and enjoy the sunshine!  It’s a lot of fun to dance outside.  It feels like…”  Sakura glanced up in thought.  “...Like freedom.  Or like...nature!”

Hinata took a deep breath and nodded.  She slipped off her sandals and lined up with everyone to begin their barre exercises...without a barre.  She spread her toes open to first position and settled her arms and hands into en bas.  

Already she could see curious onlookers watching them, and she could only thank the god above that they were having class in a corner of the field, and not front and center.  

Kurenai glanced over her dancers, noting their prepared positions.  She rattled off the instructions for their plie routine before setting up the speaker and scrolling through her phone’s music menu.

Familiar piano music rose into the air.  

More students glanced around.

Hinata tried not to think that all of their eyes were on her.  Because she knew, logically, that they weren’t all watching only her, but her heart just hadn’t been prepared for this sudden public display.

Eventually, with the right side completed and the combination repeated on the left side, Hinata began to feel less tense.

The students lazing on the lawn returned to their own devices, and only passersby watched as they headed to their destinations.  

She fell into the muscle memory of the exercises, and her focus turned inward on the flow of her arms with the music, of the dart of her toes with the beat, and the alignment of her body.  

It was like Sakura said.  There was a certain freedom she had never felt before in dancing barefoot in the grass under the Spring sun, turning, leaping, and reaching into the fresh air.  

#anon #wips #naruhina fanfiction #witness how quickly i lose interest

[imaginetonyandbucky]

The Buy In

Chapter 3: Puzzle Wrapped in an Enigma 

by @dracusfyre

On the way back home after the brothel closed, Bucky logged into Discord and dropped into a channel labeled only with random numbers and letters. First day of work was :thumbs up:  but there were two dudebros who tried to jam up my shit. Wish they would back off, he wrote. The channel was monitored 24/7 in case of emergency or actionable intel.

He waited as the dots danced, then his police handler wrote, that sucks. who are they?

Bucky typed the last four of Rumlow and Rollins’ badge numbers and put his phone back in his pocket. This operation was way more important than those two swinging dicks; between the video from tonight, which was going to be a PR nightmare for the department, and his request, Rumlow and Rollins better be manning a desk for the foreseeable future.

He was pulling out his keys to his apartment building when he heard a car door opening nearby. His head whipped around and his other hand was already on the pistol in the holster at the small of his back when he heard, “Whoa there Blue Eyes,” in a familiar voice. The figure that stepped out of the car held his hands up and stepped into the light.  “Hard day at the office?”

“I’ve had worse,” Bucky said warily.

“How’d everything go today?” Stark shoved his hands in his pocket and leaned against his car, the streetlight casting harsh shadows on his face.

“Fine. Didn’t KT give you a debrief?”

“Yeah, I heard his side. I wanna hear your side.”

Bucky thought about it, wondering if he should put a shine on it or be honest. “KT and Hawkeye’s play tonight was clever and would have worked perfectly against a different set of cops. But I think those two won’t give up until they get back at the person who embarrassed them. Might have made more problems than they solved.”

“Yeah?” Stark tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. “You sure about that? KT's been on the job for a few years now and thought it was a good call. It's your first day and you saw the cops for all of fifteen minutes.”

Bucky shrugged. “I’ve met guys like them before. Don't strike me as the type to know when they're beat. Best thing would be for them to be encouraged to take a long walk off a short pier.”

Stark made a thoughtful noise. “But KT explained office policy on that?”

“Yeah. Only as a last resort.” Bucky tried to sound neutral, but something of his skepticism must have bled through.

“You don’t agree?”

The note in Stark’s voice put Bucky on high alert. Higher alert, since his heart was still racing from before. “I get the logic, it’s just…different,” Bucky said. “Makes sense though. Bodies attract attention.”

“Is that the only reason you think it's a good policy?” Stark asked neutrally.

Bucky hesitated. He got the feeling there was a right and wrong answer to this and wished this conversation had happened six hours ago when he was less tired. “Killing people changes things,” he said finally - honestly - hoping he wasn’t about to touchy-feely himself out of this operation. Between the military, the police, and then undercover work with organized crime, he had been so steeped in machismo that it had become second nature – to those guys, life was one big dick measuring contest - but Stark didn’t seem to work like that. Or at least, he didn't want people to think he worked like that. “Not just changes people, but like…it sends a message to everyone else. ‘This is what a life is worth.’” Bucky took a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing himself to maintain eye contact with Stark.  “People respond to that. Makes them…mean. Hard. So if you can avoid that...” He ran a hand over the back of his neck, feeling like an idiot. He probably sounded ridiculous. “So, yeah. Anyway. Guess if it ain’t broke don’t fix it, right? Seems to be working for you.”

“We do alright,” Stark said slowly, and Bucky figured he must have said the right thing because he straightened and held out a hand for Bucky to shake. Bucky looked at it with surprise and took it, feeling acutely aware of the strength of Stark’s grip and the callouses on his palms. “Welcome aboard.”

                                               ***

Tony got back in his car as Blue Eyes continued into his building, cranking it and pulling away from the curb on autopilot. If Blue Eyes hadn’t been a cop, Tony would have told himself that he was too good to be true; as it was, Tony wondered if it was possible that the police or feds or whoever had profiled him well enough to give “Brooks” a gold plated script to work from. But it hadn’t felt like the new guy was playing him tonight; his comments had been too rambling and inarticulate to have been prepared in advance. Rhodey was going to think he was an idiot, but he really though Brooks was being honest with him tonight, which had the potential to change things.

At the first stoplight, he pulled out his phone and texted Rhodey.

I like him.

Rhodey sent a rolling eyes emoji almost immediately. Blue Eyes?

Yeah I want to keep him. he’s wasted as a cop.

The three dots must have started and stopped a dozen times; Tony was almost back to his own place when he finally got a response. You’re playing with fire.

Tony smirked. I know, he wrote back. It’s what I do.

Yeah, but this time, if you get burnt, we all do. Tony pulled into his private garage and turned off the car, listening to the engine tick as it cooled. Rhodey was right. As much as he was intrigued by Blue Eyes, he couldn’t put his people at risk by tugging on that thread. “Dammit,” he said out loud, scowling as he got out of the car. “Ten years ago I wouldn't have thought twice.”

                                             ***

A few weeks into the operation Bucky and KT were making the rounds, checking in with the businesses and people on their beat, and Bucky was suddenly struck by two things: one, just how much this gig felt like being a street cop, walking the sidewalks just observing the neighborhood; and two, how no one was ever this happy to see him when he was a street cop. People saw KT and more often than not, they were smiling, chatty about business and local gossip. Most of them greeted Bucky (“Oh, this must be Blue Eyes,” which had yet to stop making Bucky’s ears burn) and were happy to introduce themselves. The ones that weren’t smiling were the ones that had something to complain about: permit not going through, shipment delayed, broken equipment that insurance wasn’t paying out for. KT took notes, nodded and commiserated, and when they left almost everyone looked at least mollified, if not cheered.

“You know, for us playing the bag men today, we sure aren’t picking up any money,” Bucky commented. A couple of times KT had taken a store owner to the side and Bucky, straining his ears, heard something about loans; these people always had the look of someone explaining why they couldn’t pay but it wasn’t their fault, honest. Like everything else, KT made notes and listened politely.

“That’s not what we’re doing,” KT said. “This is check in. We do it every two weeks or so. Money stuff is all handled online.”

“Yeah?” Bucky knew for a fact that the FBI had been working with the Treasury to trace Stark’s money, and, failing to find any signs of dirty money or money laundering, had concluded he must be operating with cash only.

“Yeah. Boss didn’t want to tempt anyone or make them a target.” That was smart, Bucky reflected. Ripping off other gangs was an art form in organized crime. Still, he had to wonder how Stark kept the money transfers so well hidden from the best financial analysts in the US government.

“No targets except his accountant,” Bucky joked, fishing for info. “Like with Al Capone.”

KT just shrugged at that, like he didn’t know and didn’t care, so Bucky left it alone. “So what do we do with that stuff?” Bucky said, gesturing at the notebook KT had been writing in all morning.

“We take care of it.” He took the notebook out and flipped through it. “Not too much stuff this time.”

Bucky turned that over in his head. “So under the Mechanic, fixers actually…fix things,” he said. “You’re really going to call a shipping company and an insurance office and everything?”

“Yep. Well, we are.”

Made sense; if businesses were paying Stark for protection, he could also throw in other services to sweeten the pot and keep people from rolling on him. Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets and was lost in thought while he mostly followed KT around the neighborhood. Granted he’d only been here for less than a week, but so far nothing was adding up to what he’d read in the case files on Stark and his organization. It was making him uneasy. He’d come here with a picture in his head, and a goal of filling in the holes so they could make a case against an organized crime boss; but now he was increasingly realizing that something was wrong with the picture. So when KT told him one night that they had the next two days off, Bucky sent another message on the Discord channel and when he got a confirmation, he went to the New York Library, the big one with the stone lions and millions of tourists. He went to the adult services desk and asked for a laptop. The librarian studied his ID, went to a safe, and handed him a laptop from inside. Bucky found a study carrell in a quiet spot and logged on with an 8 character name and 16 character password, established and memorized before he’d started this operation, and opened up the case files on Stark.

Scrolling through, Bucky felt some of his disquiet ease as he re-read the laundry list of crimes Stark was reportedly involved in: racketeering, tax fraud, illegal gambling, high-end car theft. Armed obberies; he opened up the file on robberies and realized with morbid amusement that even while Stark protected his own people from being targeted, he had no problem targeting bagmen from other gangs, making off with hundreds of thousands of dollars at a time. Tax fraud, obviously; if Tony was hiding all of his income from the FBI, he was definitely hiding it from the IRS. Though as he opened up Stark’s tax statements, gotten from a subpoena to the IRS, and noticed that the document for just one year was hundreds of pages long, Bucky reflected that a good accountant could hide a lot of money in his legitimate businesses and all the assets that Stark had inherited from his parents.

At the back of the file was sex trafficking, which was based on a handful of reports that said that prostitutes were disappearing from other parts of the city and showing up working for Stark. Bucky put a note next to that one recommending the line of investigation be dropped. After spending hours and hours at the brothel chatting to the Widow and the ladies there, waiting to see if Rumlow returned, he knew none of the men or women there were being forced to stay, not even for lack of other work. Widow recruited from all around the city, helping people get out of the business if they wanted to and offering others a chance to work for her. Turns out, most of that building was devoted to the people who worked in the brothel: everyone got their own apartment, which was separate from the suites they entertained clients, and there was an in-house doctor and even childcare in the basement. All the money went straight back to the sex workers, except for this mysterious buy-in that no one had explained yet, and they were using it for a bewildering array of side projects that the women were more than happy to talk about during their down time.

After a few hours, which included writing up his reports from the past few weeks of working for Stark, Bucky sat back and closed the laptop. It was his first month, he reminded himself. No one was going to let him close to the real work of the organization after just a few weeks. He sent another message to his handler on Discord, and when he got a confirmation back, he stood up and walked away from the carrell; when he was about twenty feet away, he saw his police contact, dressed like a soccer mom, come by and spirit the laptop away.

His next stop was the gym; by the time he was done, shirt soaked wet with sweat and muscles aching, his head felt clearer.  He didn’t know why Stark was trying so hard to seem like a good guy, but if Bucky was patient enough he’d scrape past all the pseudo-philanthropy and get to the real man underneath. Stark wasn’t the first guy to be handsome and charming and charismatic while hiding a dark side.

#tony stark #bucky barnes #tony x bucky #winteriron #no powers au

[vanchlo]

Guitar Talk

Blurb Synopsis: Although thousands of miles away, you wouldn’t give up guitar lessons with your boyfriend, Niall, for anything. Even if he can be a little shit.

 Genre: Lots of fluff, although a little sad. 

Word Count: 4.5k words 

Pairing: Niall x Reader

*

The red circle blinks in front of your eyes. Your eyes flit to your hands that begin to move effortlessly, music coming from them. Well, actually it’s coming from the guitar strings you play. Picking the strings, you play a D suspended chord before moving to the G major 7. A smile bends your lips when you play the next chord, B minor 7 without a hiccup, and the A suspended chord too. But when you get to the G major 6 chord, your fingers struggle with where to go on the strings. You stop there and make a funny face at the camera. The red circle stops blinking and you exhale, feeling the nerves worsen. 

Now your fingers tap along the screen, a message composing before your eyes. 

Does this sound better?

With the guitar sitting in your lap, you hit the send button. Saving the message, you swipe over to the home screen. After viewing a few snaps from friends, you reply with random selfies and messages. When you return to the home screen, the arrow in front of his name is empty. Opening the conversation again, his little brunette haired bitmoji pops up. A white cloud above his head with an ellipses appears too. Niall is typing, it says. The sound of a bubble popping greets your ears and new words appear. 

sounds good luv. but looks like ur struggling with that last chord. here’s a tip - the 2nd time u play the lil sequence through, use the same finger to press down for the same two notes on that string. way easier than adding another finger to the mix. does that make sense ? xx

Your eyebrows knit together over your tired eyes. Rubbing them doesn’t help, because the words in front of you still don’t make sense. Holding your thumb down on the message, you tap Save. It’s always annoyed you how you can never remember what was said last time in a snapchat conversation, if you don’t save it. Exhaling, you try to read through his message again, but the second time isn’t the charm. No, not when Niall starts talking in guitar language. One you’ve just started to learn, with his help. But it’s always been easier for him to teach you guitar when it’s not over fricken Snapchat, you think to yourself with a silent groan. You’re tempted to go and put the guitar back on the stand in the corner where you’ve wanted to leave it since he left. But you try to play that sequence over again, but once again you mess up. Your phone chimes again with the popping noise. 

Snapchat from Niall 

Dragging your thumb across the screen, you sigh from frustration. 

hello luv ? did u try that ? xx

Tossing your phone onto your bed, you set the acoustic guitar on the mound of bed covers. Padding out of the room in your fuzzy socks, you turn down the hallway. Even though it’s been almost two weeks, you still can’t get used to how quiet the house is without him. 

Usually there would be a football match on the tv, his singing or guitar playing echoing throughout the house, or him blasting music while working out or cooking. Your most favorite of all is how he could never fail to scare you. 

Whether it was walking into the study while you’re doing homework, and giving jumper cables to your sides. 

Yelling ‘boo!’ when he walked in on you cleaning the kitchen, making you drop the cleaning spray. 

Opening the door to the shower quietly and whispering something into your ear.

Suddenly saying ‘ah!’ while grabbing your side in the middle of a movie - a horror movie or not. 

Whatever he did, you always jumped to high heavens with a scream. Although it got on your nerves sometimes, and almost made you cry when you were half asleep or the movie was scary, you miss it. You miss him. 

His contagious laugh. Those wicked blue eyes. The empty cans of sparkling water sat around the house, although they annoyed you. Him yelling at the referees on the tv, even though he knows they can’t hear him. His sometimes annoyingly loud singing. Even if he always left the seat up on the toilet, but to his defense he kept saying he’d remember next time and that no, you didn’t need to get one of the fancy seats that lifted itself. You missed well, everything. His advice, that of course, you can still get, but it’s not instantaneous anymore. You can still see his smile over FaceTime or through pictures, but that’s delayed too. So is saying goodnight to him, because you have to figure out the time zones and his schedule. Getting his help on something, whether it’s figuring out where he put the strainer for the pasta, or his advice on an essay you wrote. Now, even his guitar lessons that he insisted you continue while he’s away are even harder with his absence. Although they’re frustrating and his guitar language is unintelligible at times, it’s made you feel closer to him. And that’s not something you want to give up, especially now. 

You’ve kept telling yourself that it will all be over soon. He has a few more shows until he’s done with this leg of his tour, and then he’ll be home. Well, just for a few weeks before he goes out again. But then you can join him, because your courses will be done for the semester. You would have tagged along with him in a heartbeat, like you so often do. But two of your classes this semester were only offered on campus, and with the end of your degree nearing, there wasn’t any way to get around it. As you wash your hands after using the bathroom, you recall the look on his face when you told him last November. He tried to hide his disappointment, but after he asked you why you couldn’t take them online or wait on them, he found it impossible to mask any longer. 

Shaking your head of the unpleasant memories, you turn off the bathroom light. The memories you shared in there still linger - Niall’s first bath bomb that left glitter on him for days, messing each other’s shampooed hair up into different dos in the shower, and the Eagles picture he has framed above the toilet that you still laugh at. Only he would hang that picture there to look at while he takes a leak. But the memories are whisked away when you hear your ringtone, a recent favorite song of yours. Then your Macbook chimes in as well, receiving the call too, because it’s synced to your phone. 

Rushing to your shared bedroom, you plop onto the large bed. Huffing, you find your phone in the sea of covers after a few seconds. Your rapid heartbeat from the fear of missing the call only increases when you see the name. Or more like the picture lighting up your screen. Your heart warms at the smiling picture of a brown-haired little boy. And then it aches.

“You’re supposed to be getting ready to leave for the arena, you said,” the words fall from your lips in an annoyed sigh. 

“Oh, t’anks. Jus’ wanna talk t’ me lovely girlfrien’, but guess not. ‘ll jus’ go then,” Niall responds sarcastically. 

“No don’t. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to make you late.”

“Ya won’. Jus’ answe’,” he replies, knitting your eyebrows together. But before you can ask what you’re supposed to be answering, your phone twinkles, and then your Macbook. 

You can’t stay upset as you see the message flash on your screen. Ni wants to FaceTime. 

“Ni,” you begin, trying to sound stern. 

“Jus’ answe’ tha bloody FaceTime befo’ I change me mind,” he tells you, his words ending in a laugh. “C’mon, love, I don’ got a lotta time.”

“Okay.”

Pressing the green Answer button, you let your phone fall into the cream covers once again. Criss-crossing your legs, you drag the laptop over to sit in front of you. A hum leaves its speaker as Niall’s image materializes on the screen in front of you. A warm smile paints his stubbly face as one soon covers yours. 

“Hi, love.”

“Hi. Why the FaceTime? I mean I’m not complaining, but I thought we were going to wait until tonight,” you say, confusion rolling off of your words.

“Grab yer guitar,” is all he says, his favorite Lowden guitar suddenly appearing in the frame. “‘m gonna help ya wit’ dat part befo’ I hafta go.”

You try to hold back the smile inching up your lips, but it’s hard. You’re sure some body part of yours fills his screen as you lean over the laptop to grab the guitar. 

“Oi! I thought ‘d brought t’ose shorts wit’ me. I see where they’ve gone now, ye li’l thief!” Niall exclaims from the computer. Giggling, you sit back down, the bed moving as you get comfortable. “Wha’d ye go in me suitcase befo’ I left an’ take what ya wanted?” he guffaws in his famous laugh, it having been too long since the last time you heard it. If only a couple of hours. You try not to think of how many days it’s been since you heard it without a phone in between you two. 

“No!” you scoff in disbelief, settling the Gibson G-45 Studio on your lap. A present from Niall for your birthday after you agreed to let him finally teach you how to play guitar. You told him again and again not to spend a lot of money on it for you. Unbeknownst to you if he did, he only said that he wanted to get you something of quality. And he said something about how there’s no point in playing something lousy that won’t hold up to the music. Then he wouldn’t shut up about how good Gibsons are and how many guitars of theirs that he has. 

“Sureeee. Now le’s jus’ try dat first verse yer learnin’. See how I can help. Oh an’ fo’ tha record, ‘m goin’ through yer drawers when I get home t’ see what else ye took o’ mine,” he smirks, shaking his head as he mutters your name. 

A red blush covers your cheeks, giving him the guilty verdict he was looking for. Rolling his eyes, he rakes a hand through his flat brunette hair. He tugs on the collar of his Fleetwood Mac shirt, the frame of his hotel bed behind him. “Ye li’l shit, you,” he mumbles affectionately with another shake of his head. Sticking the white guitar pick between his lips, he holds onto it there before moving something out of frame. 

Thoughts of missing his lips and what they could be doing to you right now muddle your thoughts. They cause you to fudge up the very first chord you pick. But with encouraging words from him, you carry on. It happens again when you get to that dreaded G major 6 chord. 

“‘Kay, since ye ignored me Snapchat ‘bout tryin’ it wit’ tha same finga, watch me,” Niall insists, humor sticking to his words. 

“I didn’t ignore it! You don’t make sense when you talk guitar, you know that? I told you that you have to dumb it down for me. Plus, I had to go pee, so there were more important matters,” you argue, resting your hands on the top curve of the natural colored wood. 

“Oh ‘m sorry, love. Yer right, I gotta rememba dat. ‘Kay, so watch me now. Watch how I use tha same finger t’ play tha next note on dat string. So I pluck tha fifth string wit’ me finga on tha second fret. Then next it wants me t’ pluck tha same string, but on tha third fret,” he explains, looking back and forth between the guitar and you. He walks through every step as he plays the two notes slowly. “So ‘m gonna use me pointa finga, coz tha’s what works fer me. ‘ll play tha first note on tha second string, an’ then almost drag it down t’ pluck it again, but on tha third fret. Make sense wha’ ‘m sayin’? You try it now.”

Your head goes up and down at his words, mumbling an ‘okay.’ Hands leaving your guitar, you drag Niall’s image to the side of the screen. The note showing the guitar tablature Niall wrote comes out of hiding to help you. You scroll down until you find the G major 6 chord. With Niall watching, you nervously try the technique he showed you. It’s rocky at first, because the fingerpicking is different from the previous chord, but soon you hear applause. 

“There, tha’s it. Yer gettin’ tha hang o’ it, love. I really t’ink that’ll be easier fer ye. Jus’ keep tryin’ dat technique I taught ye. An’ go slow, ye don’ need t’ speed up ‘til yer comfortable playin’ dat. Ye start off slow ‘til ye can start t’ speed up. T’ink o’ it dis way - if yer makin’ too many mistakes, then yer playin’ it too fast. But if yer not makin’ any mistakes, then speed it up a li’l,” Niall narrates, almost losing you for a second with the guitar talk again. 

“Okay, I get it. Thanks, I’ll try that,” you murmur, tearing your eyes away from the screen awkwardly. 

“Wha’? Why ye bein’ all shy, love? ‘s jus’ me, nobody else ‘s here wit’ me.”

“You know it’s hard playing in front of you,” you begrudgingly reveal, repeating this for perhaps the hundredth time. 

But it never makes you settle, because it’s just as nerve-wracking each time you play for him. Or send a snapchat recording. Or when you know that he’s listening in the next room, well because he used to make comments, but that was until you got annoyed and he stopped. Or when you’d play outside in the garden to escape his ears, sure he’s eavesdropping somewhere. You know, because he did the same thing before with your singing. He’d crack the bathroom door open just to hear a hint of you singing in the shower. Or stop just around the corner from the kitchen when you sang along while cooking. 

“I know ‘s nervewrackin’. It was fer me when I first started, an’ sumtimes it still ‘s when ‘m ‘round otha guitar playas. But, babe, ye gotta let dat all go. Coz ‘ve learned if ya don’t, yer not gonna get anywhere. Hey, look at me, will ye?” Niall coos from the screen of your laptop. Lifting your eyes from the covers, they return to his smiling face. “An’ I hope it counts fer sumthin’ dat ‘m yer numba one fan.”

With that, all of your nerves go out the window. He puts a smile on your face and you can’t help but nod in response. “And I’m yours,” you respond, immediately seeing his head go up and down. 

“Believe me, I couldn’t forget. I know ye always will be, darlin’,” he smiles, his bubblegum lips spreading to show his straight white teeth. Memories flash in your mind from the hundreds of songs you’ve watched him perform with his guitar. On stage, and well, on the couch. “Now, will ye try it once mo’ fer me, my love?” 

Nodding, you hear him cheer which sends you into a fit of giggles. Soon, his loud laugh pours from the speakers to grace your ears. One of your own trickles from your lips as you find your fingering on the guitar. He counts you off to 4, and then you take your time fingerpicking the chords. The G major 6 appears out of nowhere, but you use Niall’s trick again this time. The next words out of his mouth echo your thoughts. 

“I t’ink dat went betta dat time too. Good job, love. Yer jus’ gettin’ betta an’ betta. Really, I mean it. Ever since we started t’ese lessons a year ago, yer doin’ so well. ‘m so proud o’ you, bub,” Niall grins, scratching his beard before his chin settles in his palm. 

You’re choked for words, unsure of what you could say that could express your gratefulness. But you feel rest assured, knowing that he knows how much he means to you. As well as how grateful you are for him for teaching you how to play. 

“Why d’ya wanna learn dis song o’ mine anyways? Neva gotta ask ya dat bit,” he questions, twirling the pick around in his finger. Absentmindedly, he kind of chews on it as he waits for your answer. 

“I dunno, I’ve always liked it. It sounds so pretty, and you said it would be fun to play together since it has two parts,” you reply, the words finding their way. 

“Mmmm, I see. So yer gonna finally let me play a song wit’ you, huh?” 

“We’ll see,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. 

“Hey, don’ go on teasin’ me. Wait, ‘s dat gray Eagles jumpa o’ mine yer wearin’? I was lookin’ all over da place fer dat when I was packin’!” Niall exclaims, his face getting closer to the camera. 

“Um no, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you hurry, pushing the laptop screen back to raise the camera away from your chest. 

Shaking his head, he tsk-tsks your name once again. “Ye li’l bugga, you. I dunno what ‘m gonna do wit’ ye when I get home. Well actually, I might ‘ave sum new ideas since ye keep stealin’ me clothes,” Niall winks, a sly smirk sticking to his lips. His eyebrows dance amongst his forehead, sending your lips into giggles. 

“Hey! They were still in your closet, so they were fair game!” you counter, inching your head forward. 

Pressing his lips together, his head shakes fast. “No, no, no. Tha’s not how it works, an’ ye know it, love. Said ye can go bloody wild wit’ knickin’ me clothes, afta I packed me suitcases. I swear t’ God dat jumpa wasn’t in me closet when I went through grabbin’ stuff t’ pack. An’ it just so ‘appened t’ end up on yer body now, afta ‘m gone. Hmm, I can only wonder how dat ‘appened,” Niall quips, a smile soon peeking at the corners of his lips. You both try to hide the laughs you’re suppressing, but soon they fill the ears of the other. “Bloody hell, ‘m really gonn’ get ye when I get home soon. T’ink I might tear dat off ye soon as I walk in da door.”

“I wouldn’t have a problem with that,” you admit, a blush warming your cheeks. You savor the sound of his laugh in your ears, and the smile spreading across his face. 

“An’ ‘m hidin’ it afta dat. Coz tha’s one o’ me favourite jumpas, an’ ye know dat, too!” 

You try to act all innocent, but he knows you’re guilty as hell. He knows you. From how much milk you put in your cereal, what kind of clothes you like for when he brings you home new merch of his, what new song of his you’ll love before you’ve even heard it, often why you’re crabby although sometimes he claims not to know, and while he’s gone he always knows what time you’re doing homework or when you go to bed. He never forgets a goodnight call. 

“What am I gonna do wit’ ye, bub,” he sighs, scratching at his stubbly neck. Although he tries to act annoyed, a smile finds it way back onto his face as he stares into the camera. “How’s yer day been since I talked t’ ya dis mornin’? Well, mornin’ fer me.” 

“It’s been fine. It’s gross here - it’s all rainy and cold,” you explain, the words guiding your eyes to the misty windows. “It kinda makes for a good studying day, though. I got a few assignments done, and then I was going to make some dinner soon, seeing it’s half-past 6.”

“I s’pose I shouldn’ be sendin’ ye photos o’ tha hot an’ sunny day we’re ‘avin’ here, then,” Niall chuckles, a teasing gleam in his eye. “But tha’s good ye got sum stuff done. Whatcha gonna make fer dinna? Did ye eat up all t’ose frozen meals I made fer ya befo’ I left?”

“No, I still have a few left. That’s a good idea, though. I didn’t really want to cook,” you smile, watching his soon mirror your own. Fuck that few second delay, you think to yourself, finding it hard to ignore. 

His face freezes for a few seconds, making you sigh. The picture grows blurry but then he starts moving again. “Sorry, love, connection got bad fer a bit there. What’d ye say ye were makin’ fo dinna?” he repeats, his voice sounding far away, reminding you that he’s halfway across the world. In your chest, your heart squeezes at the thought, one that you can’t push away as well lately. 

“Oh, nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

“No, tell me. I wanna know. I like t’ hear all t’hese li’l details, coz they make me feel like ‘m there wit’ you,” Niall insists. You swallow, feeling emotions come back up. Yeah, no thanks, you say inaudibly to yourself. 

“Um, I guess one of the lasagna pieces you froze. It’s been sounding good to me lately.”

“Mmmm, ye it does sound good. Maybe ‘ll ‘ave it fer dinna tonight, too. Can be like we had dinna togetha,” he says in his Irish lilt. 

This time, the words hit you harder, and it’s hard to hide the effect they have on you. Tearing your eyes away from the screen, you try to focus on your breathing to will the feelings away. 

“Ye holdin’ up okay, sweetheart?” Niall ponders, once again proving how well he knows you. Or maybe it’s just a coincidence, bad timing, or he’s feeling the same way. 

Exhaling slowly, you swallow past the lump in your throat. Returning your eyes to his inquisitive blues, your insides tighten at the sight. One that is so comforting and relaxing, but at the same time, it can be so painful you can’t bear it. 

“Yeah, I’m doing fine,” you mumble, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. 

“Ye don’ gotta lie t’ me, y’know,” he almost whispers, before his bottom lip comes between his teeth. “T’ese guitar lessons ‘ave made it a li’l easier fer me dis time ‘round. I mean, fook, ‘s neva easy, but it takes me mind off it. I hope it does fer ye too, bub.”

You can hardly see the tip of his nose as his head has fallen. The plucking of strings follows the sound of his voice, but you’re unsure if he’s distracted by his guitar or if he’s doing it on purpose. “I feel like I always come t’ love ye a li’l mo’ when ‘m away, but now teachin’ ye guitar makes me love ye a li’l more too. Didn’ even t’ink dat was possible,” Niall admits with a small laugh, his striking blue eyes returning to yours. 

“Okay, you’re really going to make me cry now, so stop it,” you confess in tear-choked words. True to your word, tears obscure your vision within seconds. You laugh, but you know it sounds fake and out of place. 

“Ye betta not start cryin’, or else ye know I will too. So ye knock dat off right now, young lady,” Niall says firmly, but you hear the wavering of his voice. “‘Kay maybe dis will stop yer cryin’. Imma hide all me jumpas when I get home so ye stop bloody stealin’ ‘em, maybe me gym shorts too. Ye think I don’ know, but I know where ye hide ‘em, love. Know ye hide ‘em in da linen closet. Found sum ‘d been searchin’ all ova fo’ when I went t’ put new bedsheets on da last time. So yer secret’s out.” 

His bright laugh licks your wounds, but the effect doesn’t stay. Because then you hear him sniffle, and your eyes drop to your lap. “‘s hopefully da last time we’ll hafta do dis, with ye ‘avin’ t’ stay back when I go on tour fer ye courses, but-.”

“Yeah, I registered for the fall and my advisor worked with me to be online for the rest of my degree. I just spoke to her yesterday about it,” you reveal. Lifting your eyes to his reddening ones, a smile splits your lips as you deliver the news. 

“Aw, babe, tha’s wonderful! Couldn’ ‘ave heard betta news today than dat. T’ink ye jus’ made me whole bloody day!” Niall grins, pumping his arms in the air with a cheer. But as his laugh fades away, you watch him wipe under his eyes. “I know it doesn’ take ‘way da pain right now, tho’. Coz I feel meself hurtin’ everytime I wanna tell ye sumthin’, show ye sumthin’, or when I reach for ye in da middle o’ da night. Even miss ye on t’ese video calls.”

His quiet sobs accompany yours as tears trail down your cheeks. Hiccuping, you let the feelings out that you’ve been packing away for a rainy day like today. With your heavy workload this week, you didn’t want to distract yourself with the tears. You left them until nighttime, lying in your cold bed with his side empty. No laughs heard under the covers, or his fingers dancing across your ticklish ribs, or waking up to kisses along your jaw with his voice floating across your skin. None of that. You think that although the house is empty and you can hear his voice over the phone, you feel the most lonely at night and waking up alone. 

“Niall,” you barely get out in between tears, and heavy thoughts. As a tear spills onto your cheek, your eyes focus on his head of hair bent over his guitar. 

“But I told meself dis’ mornin’, only five mo’ days, Niall. Then tomorro’ it’ll be four, an’ then t’ree an’ befo’ not much longa, ‘s zero. Then I getta t’ come home t’ ye wearin’ me clothes, dat I know I bitch ‘bout, but I really do love,” he divulges, guitar notes floating in the air amongst his words. “Five mo’ days ‘til I can slobber ye all ova wit’ kisses, an’ fall asleep wit’ ye in me arms.” 

“And steal your clothes back, and play guitar together,” you hum, watching a tear splash onto the shiny surface of your guitar. 

“Mmmmhmm, an’ ‘til then ‘ll keep teachin’ ye ova FaceTime an’ bloody Snapchat,” he guffaws, pulling up the corners of your lips happily. “An’ maybe if ‘m lucky ‘ll get sum otha pics on Snapchat.”

Shaking your head, you can’t hold back the laugh behind your lips. His loud one echoes yours soon after, your cheeks growing red. 

“Oh God, only five more days,” you sigh, clucking your tongue. He lifts his head, and although he’s on the other side of the planet, somehow you can feel his eyes glassy with tears stare into your soul. 

“Ye, an’ yer gonna get sick o’ me with how much ‘m gonna be lovin’ on ye.” 

#niall horan #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fic #niall horan blurb #niall horan x reader #blurb #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fic #guitar blurb #relationship blurb #niall horan x y/n #one direction x y/n #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic #one direction blurb #one direction fic #heartbreak weather #flicker #guitar #guitar lesson #guitar tutorial #1d #one direction #writing #my writing #keep #oneshot #narrymccartney writes

[sometimesiwritebadly]

Rehearsal (Peter Parker x Reader)

Summary: Peter and you have to rehearse a scene for your theatre class, which just so happens to have a kiss in it. (Gender neutral reader!)

Prompts: 1. “Why would you do this?” 22. “This is the part where you kiss me.”

Warnings: good old fashioned fluff

Note: Lol this one kinda got away from me. I used a random number generator to choose the prompts and only expected this to be like 800 words max but I ended up with over 2k so. but I really like what I ended up with so I hope y’all do too <3 mostly from Peter’s POV btw. oh and I tried to keep it gender neutral but it’s natural for me to write with a female reader so let me know if I accidentally left a few she’s/her’s in there.

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist

Peter Parker is a nerd. He’s good at science and math, which is why he’s attending Midtown School of Science and Technology. Despite the STEM focus the school has, there’s still a requirement for at least one art-related class in order to graduate. When Peter chose an entry level Theatre class, he hoped it would focus more on the study of famous plays than actually having to stand on a stage and act. Peter was very, very wrong. For the first assignment of the semester, students had to pair up and perform a short, dramatic piece. He had been paired with Y/N Y/L/N, who he had a minor crush on. Ok, major crush. After he and MJ broke up last year, he honestly didn’t think he’d find anyone else for a while. But then Y/N transferred to Midtown, and he was whipped right from the start. 

“Look man, you gotta use this opportunity to make a move!” Peter and Ned were walking down the hallway between classes, Ned trying to convince Peter again that this was a great chance to finally tell Y/N how he feels. “Just look up some cute scene for the two of you to perform! It’ll be like when Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie fell in love on set!”

“I’m pretty sure they broke up, Ned.”

“Whatever. The point stands.”

The pair approached their lockers, where you were waiting. You had a few papers in your hand, which held your attention until you noticed Peter in front of you.

“H-hey. What’s up?” Peter tried his best to contain his stutter, but couldn’t help it. Y/N just had that effect on him.

“Hey Pete, I, um, I found some potential scripts for us to use for our assignment. I thought you could look over them before we rehearse at mine on Friday? I like them all, so whichever you wanna go with is fine...although I did put a star next to my favorite piece.” You handed half of the papers you were holding to Peter, keeping copies of each script for yourself. Peter noticed that the copies you kept had already been highlighted and annotated, while his were straight from the printer. Except for the small star at the top of the first script in his stack. Before Peter could respond, the warning bell began to ring, signaling only a minute to get to your next class. “Just text me whichever one you want, and we can walk to my place after school tomorrow to rehearse.” You said this as you began to walk away, giving Peter and Ned a small wave before you turned around to race to your final class of the day. 

~~~

Instead of paying attention to his teacher’s lecture during Chemistry, Peter spent the 50 minute period reading through the scripts you had chosen. Peter already knew he wanted to perform the script you liked, but he was nervous. Your favorite scene happened to be the only one which called for a kiss, but he didn’t know if he had the guts to go for it. He could easily choose either of the other scenes and call it a day, but...well, was this your way of making a move? Had you intentionally chosen the script with a kiss to find out if Peter liked you? Did you like him? Or did you just choose that one because you genuinely thought it was the best option?

The bell rang, interrupting Peter’s thoughts and signaling the end of the school day. Hopefully a few hours of swinging through the streets of New York would be enough to distract Peter from thinking about you all night. For once, Peter was actually hoping New York criminals would keep him busy.

~~~

When Peter slipped through the window of his bedroom, his thoughts were unsurprisingly still revolving around you. Despite a somewhat busy night - two muggings, an almost-car crash, and one lost little girl now safely back with her mother - He still hadn’t been able to come to a decision. Half an hour ago you had texted Peter asking if he had chosen a script yet, and he still hadn’t responded. 

“Just go with the script they want, Pete. Even if Y/N doesn’t like you, at least you’ll get to kiss them.” He thought as he removed his skin-tight supersuit and changed into some sweats and a t-shirt. He grabbed his phone from the pocket of his backpack, and, after another minute or so of arguing with himself, finally began to type.

8:31 pm

Y/N:

hey pete, have you decided which script you wanna do yet?

9:06 pm

Peter:

Uh, yeah. I think the one you liked is the best.

9:08 pm

Y/N:

yesss, i was hoping you’d choose that one. i have great taste ;)

9:08 pm

Peter:

Haha, yeah, you do. We’ll rehearse tomorrow after school right?

9:10 pm

Y/N:

yup! i’ll meet you by your locker again :) see ya tomorrow pete

Peter decided to let the conversation end there. Honestly, he had no idea what to think. What does “I have great taste ;)” mean? Is that a reference to the kiss? Does this mean they like him? Or is it just a joke? Peter sent a screenshot of the conversation to Ned for help, but Ned being Ned wasn’t helpful at all. 

9:15 pm

Ned:

Just. Make. A. Move. 

9:16 pm

Ned:

Betty thinks you should make a move too.

Despite his confusion and nerves over tomorrow’s rehearsal, Peter managed to fall asleep at a reasonable time. Hopefully tomorrow he’d get the answers he was looking for.

~~~

Peter waited by his locker after the final bell rang. As the hallways began to clear, he noticed you making your way over to him.

“Sorry, I hope you weren’t waiting too long. My English class is basically all the way across the school.” You looked nervous. Is that good? Or bad? Have you been thinking about the kiss too?

“Y-you’re fine. I’ve only been here for like a minute.” That was a lie. Peter’s Chemistry class was just across the hall from his locker, but you didn’t need to know that. After he finished talking, you seemed to lose all sense of nerves.

“I guess it wasn’t me causing the nerves then…” Peter thought, his mood dropping a little.

“Oh good. Let’s get going then, my apartment is only a couple blocks from here.” And so you began the short walk to your place. You made some small talk on the way there, talking about your other classes instead of the one class you did share. 

“You have Mrs. Jenson third period right? I have her during fifth. Maybe we can study together for her tests...I know the school year just started, but I can already tell she’ll make her tests unnecessarily evil.” You said as the both of you entered your building. 

“That’s a good idea, I know someone who took her class last year and they said she always had essay questions. Not to mention 5 choices for multiple choice questions instead of the usual four.” Peter responded. As he spoke, they headed towards the elevator, and Y/N pressed the button, causing the doors to immediately open. After hitting the number 4 on the wall, the doors slowly began to close. Despite the unfortunate news he was sharing with Y/N, his voice had a hopeful tone to it; They want to hang out with him again. Sure, it’s just loose plans to study for a test sometime in the future, but hey, he’ll take it.

“Damn. History has never been my subject, so I’ll definitely need the extra study time. I can never remember all the important dates.” Your phone buzzed after that, causing you to glance down at it. As you responded to whoever had texted you, Peter was left to his thoughts when the elevator began to move. It wasn’t until the elevator doors opened and you stepped out that the conversation resumed. “That was my mom, guess she’s gonna be at work for a few more hours. We can order a pizza if you want, I’m not sure how long we’ll be rehearsing today.”

“Pizza, uhm,” Peter’s voice cracked, “Pizza sounds good.” Peter cursed to himself, but if you had noticed his voice cracking, you had the decency to ignore it. You pulled your keys from your backpack, and unlocked the second apartment on the floor. 

“Cool, I’ll order something online. Pepperoni ok for you?” You asked as you walked into the apartment, holding the door open for Peter. Peter only nodded, not really trusting his voice for the moment. He took a second to look around the place as you closed the door behind him. When you came into his eyesight again, you were looking at your phone, presumably ordering the pizza. “Since my mom isn’t here we can rehearse in the living room, it’s just this way.” Peter followed you as you led him across the apartment, then sat on the couch. He tried to give you space as you continued punching in the pizza order. While you were busy, Peter opened his own backpack and pulled out the script you had agreed upon. Last night he had highlighted his lines, although luckily for this assignment the teacher had mentioned that memorization was optional. After all, the school year had just begun and it was a beginner’s class.

“Ok, pizza will be here in like half an hour. Now we can get to work!” You quickly pulled out your own script from your backpack, and turned to face Peter. “Do you wanna just read through it a few times, then once we’re used to it we could start working out the blocking?” You suggested.

“Y-yeah, sure, that works for me.” Peter was relieved at this option; read throughs meant he didn’t have to worry about the kiss yet. “Your character starts, right?”

And so the two of you began reading through the script. It was short, only a few pages, and featured someone on the day of their wedding, and the man who was trying to convince them to leave their fiance. At first, the reading was a little awkward, as neither of you had any experience in acting, but by the third or fourth time you had gone through the script together, both of you were feeling much more comfortable. Instead of sitting away from each other on opposite ends of the couch, you were close, the way your characters would be. The blocking had even begun to take shape naturally, so you and Peter stood for the fifth reading, walking around the room, trying your best to embody the characters as they argued. This time, as you approached the end of the script however, Peter’s nerves returned.

“Why would you do this? Just barging in here on my wedding day?” You said, trying to act as frustrated and confused as you felt your character would be. 

“You and I both kn-know you don’t love him! You’ll never be happy with him!” Peter tried to keep his nerves in check, but he knew what was coming.

“And how do you know I’d be happier with you?” Following the stage directions indicated on your script, you stepped closer to Peter. Instead of continuing with the scene, Peter just stared at you, no longer looking at his script. “Uh, Pete?” He still didn’t respond. You were confused, until you looked back at the script. You weren’t sure how you had forgotten, after all, this is why you chose the scene in the first place. “Peter, this is the part where you kiss me” You said quietly. You had taken his choosing of this scene to mean he liked you too, but you weren’t sure. His eyes widened a little at your words though, which made your confidence drop. “O-or not, um, we could do a stage kiss, or you could just kiss my cheek, or we could just cut it complet-” Peter cut off your rambling by putting his hands on your cheek and bringing his lips to meet yours. You were shocked, but easily melted into the kiss. He was gentle as he kissed you, his nerves disappearing the second you kissed him back. After a while, you both separated from the kiss. Neither of you spoke for a minute, just staring at each other.

“U-um.. that was ok, right?” Peter whispered, as you were still pretty close to him. You only smiled, and gave him another short kiss as a response. Before you guys could do anything else, there was a knock at the door.

“Pizza!” Someone said loudly through the wood. Before you could make a move, Peter had grabbed his wallet and was already walking towards the front door.

“I’ll pay...after all, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you pay on our first date?”

#peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker #fluff

[jaebaebie]

How I met your (very modern) mother

Felix “Just think about how this would be a nice story to tell our kids.. I am your soulmate after all.”

Who would’ve guessed that Y/N’s online gamer friend was her bias from stray kids?

5.37 PM

mydayqueen has connected

“Hey, Queen. Sorry, I gotta go now. You still coming on tonight?”

Your online friend, dabdude00, told you through the in game voice chat. A frown formed on your face. He was leaving you halfway through a match and you knew you were going to have to carry the team in a duos match. You could ask your other friends to play with you, but no one was as good (or as fun) as dab.

“I’m not really sure. I still have that test to study for. But I’ll try.”

You heard him snort from the other line, “You say that as you continue to wreck these noobs.”

“Someone has to show them how it’s done.” You replied, shrugging your shoulders proudly as you take note of your kill count. 10

It was fun to show off your skills to boys who expected you to be bad at the game. Many of the random teammates you met in the game were toxic and rude, not appreciating the fact that they were teamed with a girl. But then, once you’ve shown off, they’d suddenly fawn over you, mesmerised by your skills and the Victory Royale that appeared on their screens.

“Anyways, I’ll see ya soon.”

dabdude00 has disconnected

Dab was an exception. He wasn’t toxic like all the other guys you had encountered. He was nice since the first time the two of you met (online of course) and was even willing to teach you better skills. In three months, he had become your designated teammate. An online friend you told your stories and ranted to. He always listened, even throwing some sarcastic remarks from time to time to tease you because that’s how close you two have become.

Sometimes, you forgot that he was a complete stranger,, a stranger whose face and name you don’t even know. It would be nice to actually meet Dab in person. To see how he looks like. To witness how he was like in real life. But you could only imagine such events, knowing that your family and friends would kill you if you ever tried to meet up with someone you met online.

10.07 PM

After nearly three hours of studying for your upcoming test, your door bust open, revealing your very frantic and very excited bestfriend.

“Geez!” You exclaimed, unintentionally bringing your hand up to your chest in shock, “Ever heard of knocking, Jen?”

“I’m sorry! But look!” Jen jumped, waving two pieces of paper in the air. You rolled your eyes, laughing at your friend’s actions. Just as you were about to give her another remark, your eyes widened in realisation.

No way.

“YoU gOT ThEm?!!!”

“Nu-Uh. WE got them! We’re finally going to see them!” She yelled excitedly, pulling you up from you seat as the two of you began squealing together.

Once Jen had left your room, you quickly ran to your computer, no longer in the mood to study.

“Yo yo Dab!!” You exclaimed, immediately hearing him laugh from the other side of the screen as you barely even got your headphones around your head.

“Someone sounds excited. What happened to studying?”

“Studying? I’ve never heard of it! Guess who’s going to see her soulmate?” You couldn’t help but jump in your seat, still not over the fact that your bestfriend had managed to buy tickets for the both of you.

He chuckled, “Hmm. I guess you’re finally going to see Jae from Day6 huh?”

“No, silly! He’s my ultimate bias. This one’s different.” You argued.

“Why am I not surprised?” He teased. Funnily enough, you could imagine his actions towards you, despite not knowing how he actually looked like. He’d shake his head, smiling as he brings his hands up to his temple.

“So, who’s this lucky guy then?”

You smiled, looking up to the posters pasted on the wall right above your computer. A fluttery feeling spread in your stomach, spreading to your chest as you began to get excited once again.

“Felix from Stray Kids.”

10.48 PM

“I’m S T R E S S E D !!”

A week had gone by so quickly that you were panicking because you still had no idea what to wear the night before your fan-meet with Stray Kids. You had tried to call Jen for help, but she only stressed you out even more. She had everything planned out and organised, while you, on the other hand, were frantic and disorganised. Somehow, you were now getting help from the person who couldn’t possibly give it to you.

“Calm down, Queen. I-Felix would find anything you wear pretty.” Dab said, attempting to calm you down.

It turned out the Dab was somewhat familiar with Stray Kids. He claimed to have heard their music a few times and actually liked it. He even knew who Felix was, judging from his sudden choking when you told him who your soulmate was.

“That’s not the point, Dab! Come on, help me out.” You whined. You were stretching to reach for your clothes in your cabinet, not wanting your earphones to disconnect.

“Just wear something unique. Didn’t you say you have a panda beanie lying around?” He asked, and you nodded even though he couldn’t actually see you.

“Yeah. But that’ll make me look dumb.”

“No, it won’t. He’ll notice you when you wear that.” He replied rather convincingly. He sounded so confident and strong. We’re guys always this sure of themselves?

You stared at the panda beanie he was speaking of, frowning as you hesitated, “Are you sure?”

“Trust me, Queen. He’ll notice you.”

3.19 PM ~ the day of the fan meeting

You held their album close to your chest, trying to calm your breaths as you made your way towards the first member, following after Jen. Nearly all the members complimented your panda beanie, but you were too busy blushing to notice the cheeky smirks they were sending towards your ‘soulmate’.

He was the last one in the line of members. Your ears felt like they had been blocked by your own heartbeats and a lump had formed at the back of your throat. You were so nervous you weren’t even sure you could say a word. You watched as he bid Jen goodbye with a smile before he turned to you.

His eyes met yours, widening momentarily before he replaced them with the cutest eye smile.

“I like your panda beanie.” He complimented, taking the album from you. “I’m Felix, what’s your name?”

“I know.” You stuttered, making you want to melt into the floor.

“What?” He asked, leaning forward to hear you better amidst the loud squeals of the fans.

“I-I mean, I know you’re Felix. I’m Y/N.” You finally managed to mutter out.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N.” He replied with a smile wider than his last one.

“You too. You look so much better in real life, with your freckles and all that.”

God. What was wrong with you? For some reason, everything that came out of your mouth was just purely embarrassing.

He chuckled, and shivers went up your spine. It sounded way too familiar. Before you could ponder over it, you fell in love once again as he began to rub the small amount of foundation on his cheeks, allowing you to get a better look on his freckles.

“So, which one of us is your soulmate?”

You snorted, feeling your cheeks heat from embarrassment. Saying that he was your soulmate in front of him felt way too cringy for your own good. “It’s supposed to be you. But after seeing JeongIn, I think my mind’s changed.”

His jaw dropped and he scrunched his nose, pretending to be offended, “He must be one lucky guy then.”

“Truly.” You replied, laughing. Their manager gave you a signal, indicating that it was time for you to move on. You nodded, smiling as you took the album from him. He almost looked disappointed. But you were convinced it was just you being delusional.

“It was nice meeting you, mydayqueen.”

“You too, dabdu—- wait, what?!”

Your jaw dropped and your eyes widened. There was NO WAY Felix had just called you your gamer tag. How did he know what it was? He stared at your expression, laughing with his head tilted back. The same action you always imagined Dab to be doing. The manager had called you once again, guiding you gently off the stage. Felix kept his gaze on you, the same cheeky smile on his face before he turned to the next girl, leaving you with the same confused and dumb stricken look on your face.

There was NO WAY Felix was dabdude00,,,, right?

12.03 AM

dabdude00 has sent you a party invite

You stared at your computer screen, biting the sides of your nails nervously. You were still completely taken aback by the day’s events. Felix was dabdude00. dabdude00 was Felix. You felt dumb and embarrassed. You always loved Felix’s deep and unique voice, yet, you’ve spoken to Felix the past three months and you never even recognised that it was him.

You groaned, rubbing your palms down your face as you recalled the fan meeting. He was giving you so many clues. ‘Soulmate’ and ‘Lucky Guy’. Those were words Dab used when the two of you spoke.

dabdude00 has sent you a party invite

You could barely even think about him without dying from embarrassment. How were you going to talk to him and pretend everything was normal?

dabdude00 has sent you a message

dabdude00 : Hey, you okay? Idk if you’re busy but it says you’re online..?

dabdude00 : Are you angry about today?

dabdude00 : If you are, I’m really sorry. I really didn’t mean to make you upset.

His response itself proved that dabdude00 was in fact Felix of Stray Kids. You sighed, confusing yourself even more. Any Stay would dream of this. Yet, you were ignoring his invites and messages because you were too busy being dramatic.

You threw your headphones on, finally mustering the courage to join his voice chat.

“Hey, Dab. Or Felix. Which one do you prefer?” You asked. Your voice sounded colder than you had expected.

“You sound upset. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to make you upset.” His voice was soft and small.

“N-No. I’m not. Just shocked and embarrassed.” You replied, trying to ease the tension that somehow managed to form through your headphones.

“Embarrassed? Why?” He asked, making you let out a cry,

“Because I literally called Felix my ‘soulmate’ in front of Felix! And I FANGIRLED to Felix about Felix and all that stuff! Why would you let me do that?” You exclaimed, feeling your cheeks heat up once again.

He laughed, “If it makes you feel better, I really liked it.”

“Sure, you did. Ugh! I’m so embarrassed, Felix! I literally hate you right now.”

You could hear him smirk from the other side, making you roll your eyes, “Really? If I remember correctly, this past week you’ve been bragging to me about how much you loved.. me.”

“—Shut up before I take your posters down.”

“Aww. You have posters of me?” He teased.

“Felix, I swear to god.”

He laughed once again, and this time you confidently imagined how he looked like. It sent the butterflies flying in your stomach and your head spun with joy.

“Calm down, Y/N.” He said,

“Just think about how this would be a nice story to tell our kids.. I am your soulmate after all.”

#skz #stray kids #skz au #stray kids au #stray kids felix #skz felix #stray kids writing #skz writing #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids soulmate au #skz soulmate au #skz soulmate #felix

[chappedandfadedvds]

Dec 25th, Friday 15:32

„Okay, like, I love the idea of everyone just gifting random shit. But who the hell gave me a wrapped pack of butter?“

Jens sat on the floor, just to the right of the christmas tree, holding the butter in his hands with an accusatory look around the room. Whoever had done it, must probably be easily detactable in his presumed glee. However he only found half of his friends laughing madly at him, while at least two other presented the group with their gifted butter, only amplifying the other’s to complete loose it.

It had been like this right off from the start, there were so many small presents and all of them really weird. Sander got a single yellow sock, that definitely was too small for anyone to fit. Jana recieved an old iPhone charger, that was comletely useless. But it also was of no use to Jens, that’s why he had packed it in the first place. They didn’t all gifted bad stuff. There was some lipstick, that Senne got, but Yasmina exchanged for a bottle of vodka. Someone got a whole box of chocolates and Lucas grabbed the tiniest present of them all to get a little note, that apparently was something very good or nice, but the boy couldn’’t tell or show to anyone. 

They didn’t even do a secret santa. It was more or less just a bunch of good and awful wrapped christmas presents under the tree and everyone got to choose one on their turn, as they went around counterclockwise. The laughter, wheezing and giggles had picked up volume and intensitiy which each new package opened.

They had planned to do the unwrapping this morning, but the sun had come out for the first time in days, witha bright blue sky and the snow glistened mesmerizingly radiant. The whole scenery looked like a fairytail scene of a movie or a painting. They practically gulped down their breakfast in a fifteen minute hurry, only to run out and enjoy the weather while it lasted.

Senne and Milan, on top of it all, presented the group with two sledges, some skis and snowboards that were stored in some dark corner of the basement. So therefore they hiked up the mountain for an hour to a little slope they knew of from their first walk together. They boys were on each other in an instance, fighting for snowboard time privileges, as all of them were eager to get their chance to try them out. 

It was a lot of fun, and Jens only regreted that one uncontrolled turn that made him crush into Robbe. And his stupid pointy elbow he dug into Jens’s thigh as they fell, leaving an actual ugly dark bruise on his skin, as they later found out when they got back and changed into more cozy attire. Apart from that, they made it without injury and enough energy spend to now gladly sit lazily around the christmas tree and unpack presents, while the air hold a strong scent of the hot chocolate they all drank and enjoyed.

„Be happy about the butter, you can at least use it. Other than this thing.“ Aaron chimed in, after he raised his open palm to reveal some sort of stone. Maybe it had it’s function, but Jens couldn’t see one, so he nodded in compassionate agreement, until he remembered that Aaron also got a first edition pokemon game for the Gameboy Colour. Jens would actually have been super stocked about that present, as he was sure Lies had left her Gameboy somewhere at home. So his sympathy died rather quick.

He was about to aks Aaron if maybe he could take the game off of him or at least borrow it, when Lucas shifted closer to peck a kiss on the bare skin above his collarbone, before he wnet to peck two more up his neck.

„Eh, there are people here.“ Jens laughed, not moving or even attempting to stop his boyfriend, who himself chuckled into the older boy’s skin, making him shiver under the breath.

„Stop.“

Much to his dissapointment Lucas actually did. But perhaps it was the sensible thing to do, he guessed, as he watched his boyfriend look at him in thought. Had Jens forgotten something? Or was there something odd about him right now?

„I like this.“

„What?“ Jens replied, his face drawn into amused confusion at the other boy’s whispered declaration. The others around them still busy unpacking random gifts, paying them no attention.

„You in your christmas sweater. It lookes good on you.“ Lucas happily replied with his lips curled up into a big smile. The younger boy was also wearing a christmas sweater. In fact they all did. It had been something Milan had wanted to do. It also meant that Lucas and Jens had spent at least three hours online trying to find some that weren’t too cheesy, nor to ugly and definitely not with some weird pictures or sentences on them. Seriously how tasteless and bad can a sweater be designed to have two drunk rudolph reindeers on a sweater, the red noses at the exat places where breasts would be. Though he did briefly had wondered if the ‘merry kissmas’ print wouldn’t be at least kinda funny.

„You are ridiculous.“ Jens smirked at the comliment, deciding to have to buy more sweaters once they’d be back. He usually preferred hoodies, but it couldn’t hurt to have some more variety. „But also extremly adorable. Stop looking like this.“

„Would you wear that for me later. Just the sweater though.“ Lucas asked, way too amused to actually mean it, but it certainly made Jens laugh, while seriously considering it, just to see Lucas’s face.

„Only if I get to see it on you afterwards.“ Jens winked just as cheery in it’s suggestion.

„Jens, what the hell?“ Lucas yelled back at him, his cheeks were definitely blushing, even if it could stem from them having laughed already for the hour they all spend next to the christmas tree. It definitely got the attention of the group, who were turning towards them with interest. Despite their efforts to get them explain, that only waved them off. 

It appeared though that Sander must have listened in on them for a bit, as he grinned proudly, wiggling his brows in mischief as he loudly proclaimed:

„Sweater weather.“

This fucking idiot.

__ __ __ tagged: @odi-et-amo85, @tayspots

#week 9 #wtfock #skam #vds #jens stoffels #lucas van der heijden #chapped and faded #christmas week #skamholidayevent #trash gifting

[horrorkingdom]

The Satellite Images

A friend of mine showed me how to use Google Maps. I'm sure you've seen it. It lets you use satellite images to look at locations all over the world. A few years ago, I was in a car accident. Since then, I really don't leave the house that often. It's difficult, and the idea of a seeing a car drive by me makes me feel lightheaded. I was fascinated by the fact that I could see all over the world, almost like being there. I could virtually walk down the streets, and it almost felt like I was really there.

I became instantly hooked. It gave me a real eye on the world. I could go to almost any major city, and I did. I'd seen streets in China, Japan, Germany, and England... so many places. I'd even gone to tourist attractions like the Great Barrier Reef and Dracula's castle.

My favorite was to go to random places in major cities and see how many people and animals I could find. The faces of the people were always blurred to protect their privacy, but it was still enjoyable to see them out there, enjoying their life, walking like it was no big deal.

"She must have good taste," I laughed.

I zoomed in closer and noticed the grey bag she carried on a grey and purple shoulder strap. She was walking in a relaxed manner, one hand trailing the wall beside her. I bet if I could have seen her face, I would see that she was smiling. I began to feel a little sad. I let my hands fall onto the arms of my wheelchair and looked at her for a minute more. I wished that I could be there, walking so carefree with her. That wouldn't happen though, until I died. I was stuck in this chair. I sighed and zoomed out of Tokyo. Enough of this for tonight. I turned off the computer and went to bed.

—

I got up early and decided to look around Paris. Paris was always fun. I liked the look of the city, with all of the old, beautiful buildings and so many people to watch. I randomly zoomed to an area and saw a street, lined with old brick buildings, a few small shops, and an old tan brick church. Ahead was an intersection, and dozens of people walked by. A balding businessman walked quickly past, looking back at an old woman, hair covered with a scarf, carrying a large purse. A curvy woman in black pants that were too tight stared into a store window, and two women led a group of small children around a corner.

I spun the view around a few more times, and then saw something peculiar. Sitting on the bench at the bus stop, were two people. One of them was a young woman with her feet stuck in front of her in a relaxed manner. She was wearing a pair of red sneakers, like my own. I was startled for a moment; as I noticed the black pants, white t-shirt, and black hooded jacket. Her dark brown hair was tied loosely behind her head. A grey bag sat on the bench beside her, the shoulder strap hooked over her shoulder.

"This is crazy," I thought. "It can't possibly be the same woman. This is a different country, different continent even. How could it be her?"

This was stupid. It wasn't as if these were live photographs. They were taken ahead of time and then stored. It's not like she was in two places at once. She could just be a traveler. Besides, without seeing her face, it was impossible to tell it was the same person. Brown hair was probably the most common hair color in the world. Those red sneakers were something I purchased online. I'm sure a million other people did too. I shook my head and went to fix some lunch.

When I got back online, I decided to look at Berlin. I picked a random street, as usual. It looked pretty empty. There were brick buildings lining the streets, looking more like factories than anything else. There were also empty lots, full of long grass and piled gravel. There wasn't much to see at all, really. There was a line of motorbikes and a car with two German flags sticking up from it. After more searching, I found one kid. He looked like he was dressed for school, a jacket thrown over his bag. He was intently looking at some kind of mobile device. I was disappointed. I started to leave, but then I caught something out of the corner of my eye. I turned the view, and there they were. Those damned red sneakers.

She was standing on a street corner, next to some kind of signpost. She had a hand on the post, looking down the street, as if waiting to cross the street. I stared, in shock. How could she be there too? Even if she was traveling, there's no way I would find her every time. Even finding her in Paris would have been one heck of a coincidence, but this? This was crazy. Was this some kind of joke? Had Google decided to play a prank on its users that used their product so much? It would have been a great joke...

I did a quick search, looking for a note about a woman that shows up like Waldo. There was nothing. I looked through articles on strange things you can see on Google Maps, but none of them mentioned the woman that travels the world with you. This was crazy. Had my self-imposed isolation driven me mad? Had I become so lonely that I created a hallucination for myself?

Leaving the Berlin image on my screen, I sent a text message to a friend, asking him to look at the locations. I asked him if he saw the same woman. Then I waited, hands sweating, heart thumping in my chest. I jumped when my phone beeped with a return text message, ten minutes later.

The text read, "I see the lady you're talking about in Berlin. I didn't see her in Paris or Tokyo. Is this some kind of game, or what? Are you okay?"

I didn't respond, instead returning to the locations in Tokyo and Paris. There she was. She was there, but it was different. She no longer sat on the bus-stop bench, in Paris. She was standing in front of it, looking for something in her bag. In Tokyo, she was blocks away, squatting down to pet that calico cat. I shivered. Who was she? What was happening?

I switched the map to Brussels. It was another city street. It was lined with old looking buildings, with shops on the ground level, and what I guessed was apartments above. I quickly scanned the streets. They were empty, other than a stocky woman in a bright blue sweater. I did a second sweep. She wasn't there. I sighed in relief. I couldn't believe I was getting so worked up about this.

It was nothing but a coinci-- I stopped, my eyes frozen on the screen. There was a building at the point of a fork in the road, white with a black-ironwork-framed balcony jutting from the second floor. I hadn't seen her, as I had been looking at the sidewalks. There she stood, standing on the balcony, her head tilted in the direction of the camera, almost like she was coyly looking toward me. My breath caught in my throat.

I switched to Sydney. She was leaning against the wall, inside the doorway of a bright blue Carricks Pharmacy building. London showed her getting ready to step onto a red double-decker bus, her head turned to look over her shoulder. She was everywhere I looked. She stood on a brick sidewalk on a bridge in Venice, she walked across a yellow barred crosswalk in Zurich; and in Hong Kong, and she stood between a Wing Lung Bank and a McDonald's adjusting the strap on her bag. In each picture, she came closer and closer to looking directly at me with her blurred out face.

My heart felt like a terrified bird, slamming around inside my chest. I couldn't catch my breath. I wasn't sure what to do. I couldn't call the police. Should I send screenshots to Google?

I clenched my fists tightly and closed my eyes. Who was she? Was she following me? Was I following her? I wish I could see the expression on her face, know what she saw when she looked back at me. I wanted to get out of the chair and run. Why is it that the only thing that made me feel free again, was the thing that made me feel even more trapped? I had to know.

I typed in the name of my town and zoomed into a random street. It was a couple of miles from my house; the gates to the city park were shown in the clarity of daylight, despite it being night here. There she was. There... There she was. She was only a few miles from my house, standing under the ironwork arch that stated the name of the park. She looked directly at the camera, directly at me. I felt like I might throw up. She was near me, and she was watching me. She was coming for me. What did she want?

I typed in the name of the apartment complex where I live. I could see the outside of the building. The parking lot was full of cars, and there were a few blurred out children on the playground. I searched everywhere for her. She wasn't in the parking lot or on the sidewalks, not hiding between the buildings or standing in the playground. I even scanned each of the cars, behind the bushes, and each of the blurred windows. She wasn't there. I curled tightly around myself and lay my head down on the desk.

This place was safe. I didn't leave the apartment anyway. I would never use Google Maps again. I would never see her again. She could stay at the park for all I cared. I smiled to myself and was surprised to find a tear slipping down my face.

"I'm safe," I said to myself in a whisper. It felt good to hear it out loud. "I'm safe."

As I said it, there was a knock at the door. A chill ran down my spine. I had a camera hooked to my computer that showed who was at the front door, which made it easier for me, with my mobility issues. I slowly reached for the control to show myself who was outside, but my hand trembled furiously. As I touched the control, I realized my mistake. The last of Google's images that I'd seen had only shown the outside of the building. Just the outside.

I looked at the screen and saw a woman in a white t-shirt, black pants, black hooded jacket; and carrying a grey bag with a purple and grey striped shoulder strap. Of course, there were those red sneakers. She looked directly at the camera, her face still a complete blur. As I tried to stifle a scream, she raised a hand and knocked loudly on my front door.

#explore #beginner witch #spirituality #sigils #journal #creepy #creepypasta #horror #horror community #truefacts #true stories #follow #new to tumblr #scary stories #creepy photo #Reddit

[jawnkeets]

hi! i hope ur well :) ik ur probably suuuuuuper busy with the oxford life but i just wanted to let u know that i sent in an ask a little while ago about books and ox interviews and idk if tumblr ate it (like it sometimes does!!!) but i’d rly appreciate it if u could answer it whenever u get round to it. thank u sm and p.s. ur blog is goals and i love it!

hi! hope ur well! i’m an oxbridge applicant and i was just wondering, from ur personal experience do they care about what kind of books you’ve read? i’ve read quite a few classics but i also rly like ya fantasy and stuff, does that matter? could i talk about them or does it have to be all books from the canon? i don’t mean for this to come across as rude i’m just genuinely curious! p.s. ur blog is amazing :)

Yo random question: when you knew you were applying for Oxford and were choosing books did you pick ones particularly for Oxford or ones you wanted to read and would have read regardless? Just wondering because I’m a big fan of fantasy novels (particularly young adult) and I don’t think I can talk about those at interview, unless I’m mistaken?... Would love to know your thoughts! Thank you :) p.s. if you could give some advice on choosing good classic books or recommend some that would be great!

hey! so i’m pretty sure the two asks above are both from u (but lmk if i’m wrong!!), so will answer these together ☺️ and really sorry it’s taken so long - has been a very hectic few weeks. and also thanks so much for being so nice about my blog! it’s also almost 1am so hope this response makes sense haha

so, the aim of the game in my view is always always to get across your passion about what you genuinely love to read. it’s possible to just read books you think will please an oxford academic, but it’s 1) it’s naturally a guessing game, and different academics have different tastes and interests anyway and 2) your love of literature is more likely to come across if you’re talking about stuff you’re genuinely interested in. and btw in reference to the first ask you can absolutely question ‘the canon’ when applying to oxford, and whilst at oxford!!

that said, you do need to demonstrate that the course will be a good fit for you, and indicate that you fully appreciate its range (oxford english’s span is brooooad). this doesn’t necessarily mean you need to have read old or middle english lit before you came (i didn’t), though it doesn’t hurt, but more that if you’re going to choose to discuss books you probably won’t be studying, it would help to demonstrate that you’re thinking about them critically in a way where the skills can then map on to books you will be studying (which i’m sure you will do anyways!). it might also help to just add a little something that shows you appreciate what you’re getting yourself into range-wise, if it’s not self-evident from the personal statement throughout (e.g. you mention beowulf and paradise lost and mrs dalloway) - i put something about looking forward to studying earlier periods of lit at uni too in my penultimate sentence (though obviously do it in a way that’s natural for and authentic to your particular personal statement).

you also don’t have to see the two as super separate, and can integrate ‘classic lit’ and ‘young adult lit’ into one discussion/ paragraph (and actually, this is good to do)! so if you like medieval-inspired YA fantasy, you could read around actual medieval works, or see what someone like tolkien has said about the medieval period. if you like YA vampire novels, you could delve into gothic texts. i wrote a post that’s kind of about choosing fun classic books if you love young adult too (though it’s great that you’ve read quite a lot already), which is hopefully helpful.

something to finish with that you might find comforting and perhaps surprising - i worked on the UNIQ summer school at oxford this year (a week-long residential, though it was online this year, that helps students from disadvantaged backgrounds put forward a strong application and gain confidence - side note, would be really worth seeing if you’re eligible bc it’s soooo good), and for one talk an oxford academic talked about how you might go about putting together a great personal statement. and she used circe by madeline miller as an example! she suggested putting it together with greek lit and older english lit referencing the same characters etc, how things are shaken up and which things stay the same and why, etc.

hope this helps! also, you might want to check out my FAQ if you’re applying for other tips ❤️

#asks

[spaceskam]

for @youaremyworldlois ❤️️

ao3

“Do you wanna come stay with me? There’s room.”

“No, no, I don’t wanna get your dad sick on accident.”

“Okay,” Liz said skeptically, “I’m here if you need me.”

“I know, thank you, but I think it’ll be fine,” Alex sighed. 

He was huddled in bed, trying not to pout too much about the situation for the last week. Starting Monday, classes would be solely online which sucked since he was a guitar major and there were few things more anxiety-inducing than being in a small apartment and practicing for hours on end. However, it was only made worse by the fact that he was stuck with his stupidly hot roommate that apparently didn’t have anywhere to go home to either.

“Stay safe, love you!” Liz told him.

“Love you too.”

The call ended and forced Alex to see that it was already 2PM and he hadn’t gotten out of bed. He decided to climb out of bed and face reality. He put on pants and a shirt, knowing damn well his roommate would probably be roaming around. He wasn’t even sure that guy even slept.

For the first two years of college, Alex had lived in a dorm with random guys that always made him uncomfortable. He hated living with strangers in just one room with no semblance of privacy, especially when he had no idea what they would do if they knew their roommate was gay. Then, whenever dorms would close, he would have to couch hop since there was no way he could go back home. 

So, after his sophomore year, he started looking into off-campus apartments. He had a good amount of money saved up and all he had to do was find a roommate. It proved harder than expected because Liz already lived with her boyfriend and Maria lived back home, so he had to actually look for someone he could be comfortable with.

That’s when he found Michael.

Or, actually, Liz found Michael. He was her boyfriend’s brother and apparently a genius that doubled as a giant puppy. He was in a frat and had lived in his frat house for a while before deciding to move out so he could focus better in school. They’d met and Alex had laid out all his concerns and Michael had taken them all in stride, happily agreeing to whatever as long as he had a place to rest his head.

They’d been living together for about six months by the time schools were beginning to shut down and, the closer it got to when UNM would be closing, the more Alex got anxious. Living together for six months didn’t actually mean they hung out ever. Most days, they never even saw each other and he could count the number of conversations outside of ‘I’m going to the store, you need anything?’ on one hand.

But now, according to the fucking CDC, he was going to be stuck alone with him for the foreseeable future.

“Good morning,” Michael said, not even looking his way when Alex stepped out of his bedroom.

“Is it morning?” Alex asked. Michael looked up from whatever the hell he was doing at the coffee table and smiled.

“For you it is,” he answered happily.

That was another thing about Michael. He was so painfully heterosexual that he didn’t seem to have any idea what the hell that smile could do to someone like Alex who basically fell in love with any guy who gave him attention. It was the worst and it would the main reason Alex had no problem keeping his distance from him.

“So, quarantine,” Alex hummed, looking in their newly stocked kitchen for something to eat. He decided on toast and popped two slices of bread in the toaster. “Are you, like, gonna go home?” Alex already figured the answer was no since he didn’t go anywhere to Christmas, but he figured he should ask.

“Nah,” Michael said, “You?”

“Nope,” Alex answered, “So I guess we’re stuck together.”

Michael gave that overwhelming little smirk and licked his lips, cocking his head in Alex’s direction. “I guess we are.”

Alex turned to face the toaster and tried to think of how he was going to survive like this. Why did he have to be so hot and so straight at the same time? It just wasn’t fair.

When Alex had first met him, he’d thought that maybe he wasn’t straight. It was just a vibe he gave off and the way he sat in his chair. However, when he asked Liz about it, she’d basically laughed and said he was the straightest guy she knew. Then, when Alex inevitably let him know that he was gay, Michael just said ‘cool’ instead of coming out as anything other than straight. It was even further confirmed whenever he’d text Alex to make sure it was okay to bring a girl over. Which, that only happened about six times, but still. All girls. Straight, straight, straight.

Not like he’d have a chance anyway.

“What exactly are you doing?” Alex asked, holding a napkin under his toast as he walked towards the living room. Might as well get used to talking to him.

“A puzzle,” Michael answered. However, when Alex got closer, he saw what looked like the base of a miniature house.

“That is not a puzzle,” Alex laughed. Michael laughed right alongside him.

“Yes, it is! 3-D puzzle, it’s a replica of the Neuschwanstein Castle.”

“The what?”

“Sorry, did I pronounce that wrong? I didn’t Google it.”

“I have no fuckin’ idea,” Alex said, shaking his head. Michael gestured for him to sit on the other side of the coffee table.

“Wanna build it with me? Maybe we can actually bond for once?” he suggested. Alex huffed a small laugh and agreed, carefully sitting down across from him and placing his toast on the napkin on the table. “So, Alex, you come here often?”

“Is that how we’re gonna bond? Because I think I might have to go back to my room.”

“No, stay,” Michael laughed, “Help me build this thing.”

So Alex did. It was kind of weird actually spending time with him, but it turns out Michael wasn’t so bad for a straight guy. He was funny and a whole lot better at building than Alex was. 

When the castle was halfway built, Alex felt a socked foot graze his calf. Every hair on his body stood up in alert, eyeing Michael in shock only to see him straight up steal the rest of his toast by shoving the entire thing in his mouth.

“Did you just eat my toast?” Alex scoffed. He was actually pretty thankful for the distraction because he would’ve hyperfixated on that little touch for hours. Who was he kidding? He was going to do that anyway.

“You haven’t touched it for five whole minutes,” Michael said, his cheek puffed out and stuffed with bread, Alex laughed, genuinely laughed.

“What is wrong with you? Were you never taught manners?”

“No,” Michael answered innocently. Which, honestly, just made them both laugh harder. “Also I lived in a frat house with, like, 10 other guys for two years. We consume or we die. You’re, like, the cleanest and most respectful guy I’ve ever lived with.”

“Well, thanks, I guess.”

“Want me to make you some more toast?” Michael offered. Alex smiled and tried not to become too obsessed with his charm, shaking his head.

“No, but I will take you up on a pot of coffee.”

“On it!” Micahel said, standing to his feet and showing that he was in nothing but a ratty old t-shirt and tight boxer briefs and socks with little koalas on them. Alex tried—and failed—not to watch him walk to the kitchen area and slide on his socks towards the coffee maker.

This was going to be a long couple of weeks.

-

“Hey, I hate to be that fuckhead, but could you turn your music down? I have a lesson.” 

“No problem,” Michael said, turning his music down. Alex gave him a thankful smile and then quickly went to go to his online guitar lesson at his setup in his room.

He had his sheet music in front of him on his stand and his laptop propped up beside it, easily connecting whenever his professor started the video call.

It was weird, trying to take notes and adequately tweak them via video. He was used to being shown in person how to correct his finger placement or his posture. This was just... He wanted to go back to normal.

“Keep up the good work,” Dr. V said. Alex could tell, though, that he was just as irritated with the lack of hands-on teaching. Working with one teacher one on one really created a close bond of trust and familiarity. Alex could fuck up with Dr. V and not even think twice about it. They were like family.

And now it was fucking weird.

“I sent you scans of that more contemporary piece considering it’s less crucial for you to work on your performance pieces. Have fun with it, play around, show me what you come up with next lesson,” Dr. V added before saying his goodbye’s. Thankfully, that was Alex’s last class of the day.

“You’re really good.”

Alex nearly jumped out of his skin when he opened his bedroom door to see Michael loitering a few steps away. He looked like he’d been there for a while.

"Were you standing there the whole time?”

“Huh? No, I, uh, I was gonna ask what you wanted for dinner and then I heard you were still playing, so I was waiting so I wouldn’t interrupt you. And, well, you’re really good,” Michael said, his fingers tapping against his thigh as he rose up on his toes and dropped back down. His curls sprung with the movement.

“Thank you,” Alex said, trying to smile despite the fact that made him uncomfortable. As stupid as it was, he didn’t really like having random people hear him play. It was different when he was actually performing. Whoever was there came to see him and wanted to hear him. But, like this, it felt like he was simply being annoying.

“You know, I always wanted to play guitar,” Michael said, biting down on his lip just a little bit and Alex had to wonder why the hell he deserved that.

“I mean,” Alex started, looking around before being forced to look back at Michael due to the lack of scenery, “Maybe I can show you a thing or two sometime? I don’t just know classical.”

Michael split into a happy grin and bounced on his toes one more time. “Sounds super fun.”

“So,” Alex said, “Dinner?”

Michael blinked a couple times as if suddenly realizing where the conversation had originated. It was the cutest thing.

“Oh, right.”

-

“We need to do this more often, I think it’d help my fucked eating schedule.”

“Well, we can, if you want.”

“Cool,” Michael said all happily. They were making breakfast together like some sort of domestic couple, bustling around the kitchen to concoct something edible. Eggs, toast, and apparently Michael also needed waffles with those things. 

Alex got to work on the toast and waffles while Michael made the eggs.

“Don’t put any pepper in mine, please, pepper makes me wanna gag,” Alex mentioned. Michael gave him a bewildered look.

“Says the guy who put, like, an absurd amount of Tony’s on his fried rice,” Michael scoffed. Alex grinned. He remembered that?

“That’s different.”

“Is it? Is it really?” Michael asked. Alex laughed and swatted in his direction. Michael grabbed his arm instinctually and tugged him closer. It caught Alex so off guard that all he could do was stare with wide eyes. Eventually, Michael seemed to realize that was a little fucking weird and let go, taking a step back. “Do you want me to put Tony’s on your eggs?”

“Yes, please,” Alex said, clearing his throat in an attempt to not sound like that was weird. Which, it was weird. And absolutely not at all good for him brain that seemed to think Michael was more and more lovable each day.

A couple minutes later, Michael got his attention again.

“Try this, tell me if it’s enough,” he said, holding up a fork with scrambled eggs on it. Alex looked between it and Michael’s eyes a few times before realizing he was just going to feed it to him. Is this what they did at the frat house? He would really like to know.

But, instead of questioning it, Alex opened his mouth and let Michael feed him the bite.

“Good?” Michael asked, smiling all proud of himself. Alex almost forgot what he was asking about.

“Yeah. So good.”

-

“I’m gonna go insane.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Alex hissed, covering himself with his blanket to try and stifle his words despite the fact that Michael was taking a shower and couldn’t hear him, “He’s so fucking cute and nice. Who allowed him to be both? It’s a goddamn crime.”

“Alex, his niceness is why you let him be your roommate in the first place,” Liz pointed out with a laugh.

“Yeah, so?” Alex groaned, “It’s overwhelming. Do you know what he does for fun? Puzzles. And then, last night I guess he ran out of puzzles, because I woke up at, like, three in the morning to get water and he was building a house of cards. Not just a house, a fucking castle. What the fuck is that? Why am I attracted to someone who builds card castles?”

Liz laughed even louder, “Alex, maybe it’s the quarantine. I mean, you’re stuck with him, so you’re bound to catch some feelings because they have nowhere else to go.”

“Okay, but he’s a straight guy that I once saw wash his hair in the kitchen sink on one side and defrost chicken on the other.”

“Ew,” Liz said.

“I know! And yet I look at him and want to put my head through a wall to stop feeling like a pile of goo,” he groaned, “Sometimes I think he is just instigating it.”

“What do you mean?”

“A couple mornings ago, he pulled me close to him and fed me a bite of eggs. Like, who does that? The more I think about it, the more I think he’s messing with me,” Alex whined. Liz was silent for a moment.

“Michael isn’t the type of guy to just, like, mess with people. Especially not his roommate,” she said cautiously. Alex didn’t know what to respond. “Maybe ask him not to do stuff like that? Ask him not to lead you on?”

“Okay, but I’m not going to ask him not to lead me on because then he’ll think I like him,” Alex argued.

“But you do.”

“But he doesn’t know that!”

“Hey, Alex?!” Michael called from the other room, very quickly making Alex panic about what he could’ve overheard.

“Yeah?!” Alex yelled back.

“Can you get me a towel from the dryer?! I washed them to take a shower and then I forgot!” he called. Alex gulped hard and looked upwards, letting out a quiet, strained noise.

“Yeah, gimme one second!” he yelled, “Okay, Liz, I gotta go, He needs me to get him a towel.”

“Seriously, Alex, you need to ask him—“

“Nope, bye! Talk to you later,” Alex said, hanging up before she could try to pressure him into having an adult conversation.

Instead, he went and fetched a towel and then knocked on Michael’s bathroom door. The door opened only a few inches, but it was enough to see a soaking wet body that was tanned and covered in chest hair and Alex realized he was beyond help.

Instead of risking saying anything embarrassing, he just held out the towel. Michael flashed a smile, a ringlet already forming against his forehead that dripped water onto his nose. How was he even real?

“Thank you,” Michael said, winking before he closed the door again.

Alex decided then and there that it had to just be hormones. He was going stir-crazy with nothing but hormones and a hot guy. That’s it. Because there was no goddamn way he looked that good. Alex had to be exaggerating in his head.

He just fucking had to.

-

“Okay, you promised me over a week ago that you’d teach me some things on the guitar and you still haven’t.”

“Okay, okay, come here,” Alex said. Michael smiled like a kid in a candy store and bounced on his toes before meeting Alex on the couch. 

Alex had been a little bit better about keeping his distance and giving himself a reality check daily after the amount of wet skin he’d seen during the shower incident. That was really only two days ago, but still. He was reminding himself that he only felt so attracted to him because he had no other choice in the moment or something. Now, however, that was hard to remember when he was sitting so close.

Still, Alex handed over his guitar. Michael looked at him expectantly. It was almost too much to handle.

“Okay, so these things are called frets and the strings are numbered one through six going from this end to this end,” Alex said, pointing at what he was talking about. Michael nodded along. “Okay, so put your index finger on the first fret, second string. Middle finger on the second fret, fourth string. Ring finger, third fret, fifth string.”

Michael slowly did just that. When Alex reached to adjust his finger and hand placement, he let him. He listened well and molded to whatever Alex suggested.

“Okay, now strum,” Alex told him, listening to the sound it made, “And that’s C Major.”

“Oh, shit,” Michael laughed. Alex huffed and rolled his eyes.

For the next few minutes, Alex walked him through chords: A minor, G Major, F Major, the basics. He explained how to hold the neck of the guitar so it wouldn’t cramp up his hand and how to not press down too hard, but also not too light to get the best sound out of it. They walked through them and switching chords. Alex explained how it got easier with time and with calluses. 

“And now basically you can play 90% of pop songs,” Alex said. Michael’s eyes went wide and he laughed.

“What?”

“Yeah, most pop music is made up of just those four chords or variations of them. Sorry to disappoint,” Alex told him. Michael shook his head.

“Show me another one,” he asked. 

“Okay,” Alex agreed. He leaned a bit close again, talking and guiding Michael through the finger placement for D Major. But then Michael moved his hand off the body of the guitar and to Alex’s cheek, leaning.

For a moment, Alex was frozen and feeling more confused than he had in a long time.

“Sorry, do you not want to?” Michael asked after a few seconds of kissing Alex and Alex just not kissing back.

Logically, Alex should’ve explained that he was confused. He should’ve said that he thought Michael was straight and that, if he was indeed straight, he shouldn’t be doing this because this was mean. He should’ve been an adult. 

But he had been stuck alone with him for three weeks and all sense of logic seemed to fly out the window.

Alex moved the guitar to the coffee table with one hand and grabbed Michael’s neck with the other. He pulled him in for a much more heedless kiss that the first one. Michael made a soft noise of approval as his hands went to pull Alex closer by his hips.

Things moved fast. If it were a normal circumstance or a normal situation, Alex would’ve thought it was too fast. But this wasn’t normal and Alex couldn’t contain himself. He’d been thinking about this for days. Weeks. Probably even months.

He let Michael kiss down his neck, he helped strip them both down, he happily melted when he was finally being touched by someone that wasn’t himself.

He enjoyed every second.

-

Alex wished his horny brain had warned him that the next morning would feel weird.

He woke up first and laid there, frozen on the couch for thirty minutes because he was too scared to moved. Michael was laying on top of him partially, his head on his chest and his thigh draped against his hips. It was the first time Alex had ever actually seen him sleep and so he was too nervous to wake him.

In that hour, though, he was able to plan what he was going to say. He was going to assure him that it didn’t mean anything and that things happen. It was just circumstances. They could still be roommates. Going down on a guy didn’t make anyone gay. He had it all planned and fully expected a breakdown the moment Michael woke up and realized what happened. 

Only, again, he couldn’t have predicted what actually happened.

Michael woke up slowly, shifting a little bit and stretching his legs out. He didn’t jump or scream. He rubbed his thumb all the way from Alex’s nipple to his armpit and made a sweet waking-up sound before raising his head.

“Hi,” he said sweetly, his voice a little deeper than normal. It was jarring and Alex was trying to find the beginning of his speech. He was only more thrown off when Michael kissed his jaw and put his head back on his chest, seeming comfortable in their placement.

“Hey... Uh, maybe we should talk?” Alex said awkwardly. Only then did Michael seem to react, pushing himself up a little bit. He took in whatever expression happened to be on Alex’s face and sat up completely. Alex followed suit. “So, um, I’m sorry about last night. We’ve just been crammed together and stuff happens. I hope this doesn’t make it awkward between us. We can still be roommates.” Micahel’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and, with each sentence of Alex’s speech, seemed to become more and more offended.

“What?” Michael asked, rubbing his face.

“I-I mean, don’t worry,” Alex assured, “What happened doesn’t make you gay and I hope you aren’t, like, weirded out by me.”

“Alex,” Michael said, voice matching the offended look as he held his hand up, “What the fuck are you talking about? Why are you acting like I wasn’t a fully engaged participant? Like, I did that on purpose, it wasn’t an ‘oops, tripped and fell onto your dick’.”

Alex gulped, shifting a bit as he began to feel offended. So he wasn’t wrong. Micahel had been leading him on.

“Okay, well, you can’t just act interested in me because you don’t have any girls to hook up with, that’s just—“

“Alex!” Michael said, cutting him off and looking at him with genuine hurt, “Why do you think I’m acting? What the fuck?”

Alex didn’t actually know what to say to that. He stared at him blankly, trying to think of a response that wouldn’t make this situation worse. But he figured he’d already ruined a soft morning by accusing him of things, so he might as well just say what he was thinking.

“You’re straight,” Alex said. Michael huffed a laugh, falling back into the couch and staring up at the ceiling.

“Why the hell do you think that?” Michael asked. Alex sat up pin-straight, looking at him in a whole different light by that one little sentence.

“You... You’ve only brought home girls,” Alex pointed out weakly.

“That’s just not true,” Michael said, looking over at him with amusement rather than anger. Alex relaxed a little. “Ari was a guy, you just didn’t see him, and Dylan was non-binary, you just didn’t see them either—and that’s just since we moved in together. You never saw anyone I brought over, Alex, don’t assume based on names I say and the way I look.”

Alex felt his face flush and he started feeling more than a little embarrassed. In fact, he was so embarrassed, he kind of wanted to cry. Or lay on the floor. Preferably both.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he said, dropping his head into his hands. Michael sighed and shifted closer, his hand pressing into Alex’s shoulder.

“It’s okay. I’m honestly more concerned with how many allegedly straight guys you’ve hooked up with that you had a speech prepared,” Michael said. Alex laughed a little.

“I was the only gay guy in my high school, I got pretty used to it,” he admitted.

Michael clasped his hand over Alex’s shoulder and pulled him in for a hug. Alex melted into it, hoping that it meant he hadn’t embarrassed himself for life.

“I’m bisexual,” Michael said so confidently that it almost made Alex cry just by that alone. He was so sure of himself. 

“So does that mean you were flirting with me?” Alex asked when he got to courage to raise his head. Michael huffed a laugh.

“Wow, thanks for noticing.”

Alex groaned, “God, I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. Just, you know, head’s up, next time we hook up, I’d prefer to have the speech be at least an hour after I wake up,” Michael said. Alex groaned louder. “What? No cute remark about me saying next time?”

Alex held back a smile and glared at the boy in front of him.

“I already know there will be a next time because we are still going to be stuck alone in this apartment for at least a couple more weeks. It’s after that that I’ll have questions,” Alex said.

“So confident for someone so embarrassed,” Michael teased. Alex raised an eyebrow that said ‘am I wrong?’ He got a kiss instead of a response. “Here, to balance out your embarrassment, I’ll admit a thing. The only reason I brought that many people over was because I wanted to see if you’d get jealous and make a move.”

“I don’t get jealous, I just get confused.”

“Noted,” Michael laughed, nudging his nose against Alex’s. It was so much touching, so much affection. Alex couldn’t remember a time anyone had done that to him in a non-platonic way. “Point is, I liked you the moment I met you.”

“Liz insisted you were straight so I kept my distance until I couldn’t because I didn’t wanna catch feelings.”

“Oops.”

“Yeah, oops.”

They both laughed for a few seconds before it slowly died down through Michael giving him full heart eyes. It made Alex’s heart go a little haywire.

“Okay, so now that we talked, can we have a redo of last night where you don’t think you’re getting head from a straight dude?” Michael asked. Alex flashed a smile and nodded.

Who knew something good would come out of this?

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic #i chose to leave out the part where all classical guitarists have really long right thumb nails #because while that would be accurate it's kind of a weird attribute #i knew one classical guitarist who bit all his nails except the right thumb #that bitch was like 2 inches long #he was a DAMN good player tho

[mcrmadness]

17 questions 17 people

@hanhan156 tagged me to do this. I guess you’re supposed to tag 17 people but oh boy I don’t even know that many people and if I do, I can’t remember more than like 2. Every time I need to list things, my mind magically goes blank. I guess it’s the only time it’s totally blank, too. (Note to self: Try making lists more often! Maybe you will accidentally start meditating one day...)

1. Nickname: I have such a short first name, Aada, that I don’t have any nicknames :( Well of course my family has came up with all kinds of names but nothing what could be used outside of the family. My friend once named me as Dexter but I don’t know if she even remembers that anymore :D But I really like “Madness” tho and probably would change it as my real name too if I could. There’s just that this is not really a name that anyone in real life uses - apart from online friends but if I meet them in real life, they usually call me by my IRL name anyway. I also have a love-hate relationship with my actual first name because it bugs me and it’s so feminine to me, but everyone who knows me says they don’t see it as a feminine name at all because of me. So for years I’ve been looking for a “new name” but still haven’t found it (”Ade” being one possibility but idk if that feels like me either). A few days ago i did have a realization that “Madi” could actually work even in Finnish and it would be very neutral too - and it’d be from my online nickname I’ve been using since I was 13-14 aka for... 16 years. But I don’t know, I’ve always wanted to have nicknames but from my name you can’t make anything actual that would also work in everydaylife.

2. Zodiac: Cancer.

3. Height: I‘m short, just about 156cm.

4. Hogwarts House: For years I was a Ravenclaw but then one day Pottermore put me to Slytherin. Idk what happened there, mentally I still feel more like a Ravenclaw.

5. Last Thing I Googled: "Stoopid” because my anxiety kicked in and told me to check if this word is just a random word or a reference to something I don’t know and shouldn’t use because I might accidentally make people understand something about me that isn’t true.

6. Song Stuck in My Head: I have had Apulanta songs spin around in my head non stop for days. “Tivoli” was there for days and then it changed to Palava pensas...

7. Number of Followers: 286 atm, I think. (Holy shit I’m really making a fool of myself in front of so many random people...)

8. Amount of Sleep: It depends, 7-8h is enough but my body doesn’t like to be consistent so it can be anything between 5 and 12 hours.

9. Lucky Number: 13, and 23, and 123. (And 3.)

10. Dream Job: Oh I have too many, I wanna do little bit of everything but idk how when even having one job would make me be basically braindead zombie in the evenings. Currently all the things I’d want to do something with: languages, linguistics, arts, video editing, animals (I’m a horse groom), zoology, genetics, detective, video games... too many choices, so little time and energy.

11. Wearing: My oldest (black) Rammstein t-shirt, black college pants as I use as my “home pants” and socks.

12. Favorite Song: Right at this very moment my favorite song is Paaso from Apulanta.

13. Aesthetic: Not exactly sure what is meant with this here but I’m drawn to the color black. Especially when it’s combined with red. I also like it a lot when it’s with white and grey. Another color I’m drawn to is orange - it’s been my fave color since I was a kid and even tho I don’t wear anything orange, it still attracts me a lot and I might even do impulse buys just because something is so pretty orange. I even chose this apartment because it has orange living room walls and that is not very common in Finland. And I’ve bought two bowls and also a fruit bowl from bargain sales because they have this pretty color of orange. So on the outside I’m quite dark, I dye my hair black and I wear only black but on the inside I do like colors, too, especially warm ones. My home is actually lots of black, white and grey, bit of red in the kitchen to go with it and living room’s main color is orange. I also love tigers and I have a huge rug with a picture of tiger on it and recently I bought bedsheets just because the tiger image. Oh and one of the bought pictures in my kitchen? Tiger. (One has zebras and one has a tree, they all are black and white.) And I’m the opposite of minimalist. I guess this is my aesthetic.

14. Favorite Author: Douglas Adams.

15. Favorite Instrument: I really love the sound of piano, and violin. As a kid I actually learnt to play piano myself but social anxiety kinda took over. Lately I’ve been feeling like playing piano again because you could get an electric one and attach headphones to it so no one would hear it and I could try to get even with my social anxiety, but these things are so expensive. And I doubt my dad will borrow me his... Usually I don’t like slow songs but if a slow song has piano and/or violin (and especially if them both!), I’m usually sold if the melody just stays interesting. The next most important in music is probably drums, I didn’t even see this before I at some point started to wonder this more and I tend to be drawn to music with complicated drumming. Every time I have been wondering what is it with this band, why do I like this even if it would be otherwise somewhat dull or not that diverse, I usually find the answer from the drumming style. (I can’t stand simple drumming that stays the same throughout the whole song! Some of my fave drummers who are or were in bands like: die ärzte, Rammstein, MCR, Yellowcard.)

16. Favorite Animal Noise: Just any cat noise that doesn’t indicate hurting. Or this sound horses make when they greet you. It just makes my day every time :)

17. Random: I’m a Monty Python fan and I have very weird sense of humour. I suspect it’s because I grew up with things like MP movies. And talking of movies, my favorite actor is Jim Carrey. I normally don’t have fave actors - there’s plenty of great actors but I think Jim Carrey is the only one whose movies I have watched just because he is in them, and he’s been my fave actor ever since I saw “Dumb and Dumber” when I was about 5-6 years old and my aunt had it on VHS and I started watching it there. Normally the other great actors just happen to be in my favorite movies, the plots and such are more important for me. And btw I’m also a Tim Burton fan and my all-time-favorite TB movie, movie overall and movie soundtrack will always be Beetlejuice.

I’m gonna tag: @stufenlosregelbar and @notafraidofredyellowandblue aaaaand the rest I’ve already forgotten. Sorry for that, but tag yourself if you want.

#tag games #me

[icewindandboringhorror]

Another set of responding to asks lol.. As usual I have them numbered and will also write out the ask in the text, especially since the screencaps are all blurry and taken at various times/compiled together badly and probably hard to read ghghhggh..... answers under the read more ~ 

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

1. "Hi I don't mean to bother you at all, but I was wondering where you get your rocking horse shoes? (I think thats what they're called) I've been looking everywhere and I can't seem to find any :(( "

I don’t entirely remember, since I got them like 6 or 7 years ago.. I think maybe at some point that place ‘bodyline’ or something had some cheap ones? But I don’t see them on the site anymore, they were like $50 or $60. Now when I google it I can only find these insane like $600 ones from vivian westwood or whoever, or ones that are platform shoes but not necessarily the same type. Maybe you could find some on aliexpress or ebay or something? Usually you have to use weirdly specific search terms and look for a while, but you can often find stuff like that on those sites. Sorry I couldn’t be of more help!!! 

2. "I've been sick for over a month and my doctor tested me - everything came back fine. After some discussion it appears that my ptsd symptoms came back and the stress on my body is making me fatigued, sick and dizzy. I don't want to say that this could be similar to you situation, but if you have a therapist or someone to talk to about any stresses/your sickness, it might help relieve the pressure a bit. Good luck, I'm so sorry you feel so unwell"

Thank you for sharing! Yeah, I think stress definitely plays a part in why I feel sick so often. Currently I’m not still having the same problem I was having a few months ago when you sent this, so that’s good at least!! 

3. “Hi! Do you plan to ever have more sculptures for sale? Or would you do commissions? I haven't seen any in a while but wanted to buy one! :-O”

I have plenty that I want to sell, I guess it’s just hard for me to get set up. Since so much of the reason I procrastinate selling stuff is because I hate the stress of deciding on a price, I’ve thought for a while now that maybe I can just auction them (so I just set a base price, but people bid whatever they feel is fair and I don’t have to decide myself). But I’m just not sure of a good way to do that.. Ebay has auctions, but I don’t want random strangers buying them, I’d rather stick to just the pool of people who follow my art blog and are already familiar with my sculptures or etc. I could do them on here ?? (like, ‘reply to this post to bid, bids close 8am EST, whoever said the highest number sends the money through paypal and then I send the sculpture’ sort of thing???)   But I’m not sure if it’s legal to sell stuff through tumblr, or if there could be any other problems with doing it so ‘unofficially’ like that.. I don’t know, I have a vague idea, I’m just having trouble deciding the best way to set up something! I do want to sell some soon though, if I live through the pandemic and anything ever goes back to normal, of course (I wouldn’t want to be having to leave the house to ship stuff in the mail right now). 

As for commissions, I have actually done sculpture commissions for friends a few times, so I feel confident-ish that I’d be able to do something like that, but I also wouldn’t want to get overwhelmed since it takes a lot of work. Custom sculptures may also be more expensive, and again.. I always feel guilty and strange about pricing. I’ve thought about doing very limited sculpture commissions though (like, maybe just one at a time, first come first serve or something..?). If it seems like there’s actual interest in that sort of thing, I could definitely consider doing it in the future! 

4. " *picks up that smol blue kid and throws them across the room* "

ghgh .. the smallness is an advantage... they could just skitter back down your arm like a tiny squirrel the second you tried to pick them up.. Ythrili survival strategy is to be too small to catch in the first place 

(also forgive every sketch in this post, my screen that you can draw on broke, so I’m either drawing stuff in ms paint with a mouse, or drawing stuff on paper and coloring it in firealpaca also with a mouse ghghh.. not going to look Good)

5. "it sounds like you feel pressure to only post good content on the internet, and so you end up psyching yourself out of posting at all. Am I on the right track? "

Not necessarily, like I mentioned in the tags I think it’s more just that everything is complicated by my brain. I can’t just do something effortlessly. Whether it’s for an audience or not, I get caught up on every little detail and adding so much complexity to everything that all tasks take me longer than they take other people lol. I think I just tend to take everything very seriously?? 

Like for example, I’m often accused of ‘turning things into a discussion’ when someone was just intending to make an off-handed remark, because if someone is bringing up a topic to discuss, I end up engaging with it 100% and putting full effort into it, and it’s hard for me to be ‘’casual’’ about pretty much anything (so if someone was like ‘My day yesterday was a bit weird’ I wouldn’t be able to just respond ‘aw man, that sucks’, I would just be like ‘Weird how? what happened? what made it weird? Are you okay now? Are things still weird? Have you found a solution?’ etc. etc.). I was also bad at essays/open answer questions in school (despite usually being great at the class otherwise), because no matter how hard I tried to filter my speech and cut things out, I was always far too long-winded  and would get almost too engaged with the topic and lose the clear cut thought organization and focus that you’re supposed to have I guess. Even like, playing video games or something that’s supposed to be relaxing, I can’t just ‘jump into them’ and do whatever, usually any game I play (large ones at least, small 25 minute  point and click adventure games don’t count of course), I have 7 - 10 pages of notes, do hours of research, look up most of the main spoilers, plan out and organize exactly how I’m going to play it and this and that, etc. lol... 

So, that personality trait carries over into posting things online as well, I can’t just type something out quickly and hit ‘post’ without a second thought. Social media is hard for me because you’re supposed to use it casually, but I spend a long time re-reading drafted posts, thinking about them, etc. etc., and end up never actually getting around to posting anything. It’s not that I’m perfectionist about it and want it to be ‘good’ or appear a certain way, it’s just that my mind becomes preoccupied with things I guess.  I’m a natural information gatherer, part of my natural way of processing things is to learn everything possible before acting, and I want to make sure I’ve fully thought about everything always, and know as much as I can (so I wouldn’t want to publicly say something without giving it a lot of consideration first, or post a picture without really thinking about if I want to post it, what my reasons behind posting it are (like if I’m posting something just for a validation of a certain aspect of myself VS. genuinely because I like it, etc.), if a few months from now I’ll still like that I posted it, etc. lol.. even with like silly cat photos or something, I have to analyze it and be like ‘hmm.. will I still stand by this picture in 4 months? why am I posting it publicly vs, just keeping it privately to myself on my computer? what’s important about it?’ etc. etc. ghgjhgjh.. like.. shut up lol.)

ANYWAY, yeah, I don’t know if it’s about wanting online content to be “good”, as much as it’s just like... I take everything way too seriously and am detail-oriented, contemplative, and analytical to a fault, which means it just takes me 10x longer to do basic ‘’simple’’ things that it would for other people. Though I can still be quite quick-thinking and decisive (I don’t often waver back and forth between things too long), it’s usually because I have years of thinking about the same exact things behind me, so I already am very clear on my opinions on stuff, to a point. But when it’s new things I’m less familiar with (like playing a new game, or posting regularly online), I’m still in a phase where I guess I have to give it a lot of thought. I just process things in a different way than other people I guess? Or have some inherent inability to be brief/concise/careless? If you’ve ever read any of my worldbuilding posts (where I usually start off wanting to explain one thing but then have to derail into 400 other misc. details and explanations and it ends up being a novel), then maybe it’s more evident what I mean, where it’s just like... my natural manner of speaking is Too Much.. I guess? Even this answer is winding and rambly, and I feel like other people could have answered this ask in only a few sentences lol.. 

 If any of that makes sense? I don’t know how to describe how I am lol.. I just know it's hard to me to use social media in this ~~casual effortless~~ way most people seem to, since my brain is just inherently incapable of anything ‘’casual’’ or ‘’effortless’’ lol..  T u T ;; 

6. " Hi! I hope this isn't weird to say, I'm designing a race for my DND campaign and some of the aesthetics are a little bit inspired by some of your costumes and makeup designs. You're awesome and your art is awesome so thanks : ) "

Thanks so much, I appreciate it! It’s always cool to hear I can inspire people~ 

(I usually don’t include many compliments in these ask compilation posts, but I always try to include a few, just to let people know that even if I don’t respond to all of them I do see them, and appreciate it!) 

7.  ???

I ended up cropping out this ask and not answering because some of the content was questionable (the reason WHY/how they wanted to make the character) in a way that I didn’t feel like getting into a long thing about, but part of it was relevant to making OCs in my world, so I will just make a quick comment:

I do state that this is a closed world, so I don’t want anyone making OCs of my species or etc. at least not at this point. Once my game is finished (if ever lol), or I write a few books or something, then I feel it would be understandable if people like, made up a background story for their player character and thus maybe could have some form of OC in my world and etc.. So I may be more relaxed on this in the future as I create content that people naturally would want to engage with , but for now, I’m still a very tiny creator with a closed world and it just doesn’t feel the same as like.. making an oc based on some thing in a big TV series or something. My worldbuliding and etc. is still very personal to me. Unless we’re directly collaborating on things (like mentioned here (link) a bit), or you’re a personal friend of mine who’s gotten involved in the world with my own guidance (meaning I could tell you lore things you’d need to know to make it accurate, etc.), then I don’t feel it’s appropriate for strangers to do at this point. 

Especially since I don’t even have enough world info out for people to be able to reference (most species have half-complete guides, I’ve only ever talked about like, one continent, etc.). There are so many necessary details which I have only in my head and have never typed out, so again, idk, it’d just be weird. I’m not okay with it until I have a lot more lore published, and maybe a few actual works out there that people can reference/stories/games/basis for OCs to exist in the first place. If that makes sense? 

8. "Hey, is it ok to use your outfit posts as inspiration for a dnd character? I love them so much, you have such a unique way of combining crazy patterns and fabrics into something that gives off a good vibe”

Yes, that would be fine! Thank you for asking, and I appreciate the compliments~ Hopefully I can get back to posting that sort of thing more often lol.. I’ve gotten WAY off my routine and haven’t done many outfits lately.. aaa

9. "hi Luca! i just wanted to say i really love all of your costumes and fashions and dress ups, its all so cool and pretty and interesting. i actually wanna dress up for fun for myself, and now that i know about the bins i think i'll try to convince my mom to take me to similar places for cheap clothing pieces, since my mom is worried about how much all this costume stuff costs. anyway, please keep posting your cool and beautiful stuff! "

Thank you so much! I wish you luck with your costumes! Yeah, I think there’s a common idea in a lot of fashion communities (like with makeup, costumes, etc.) that you have to always have high quality things to look nice, and even if sometimes you can do more with a little extra money, really you can make anything look good with what you have if you just combine it right. As I’ve always been quite low income, being into fashion and stuff has be discouraging at times, that I couldn’t afford certain materials or items, but you just have to find a niche where what you’re able to do works. For example, a lot of even ‘cheap’ lolita style clothings are too expensive for me (like $30 - $50 for a dress??? then the more pricey ones can be over $100???) lol.. BUT, then stuff like mori kei, cult party kei, fantasy costumes, etc. you can do with nearly any fabric you can find, and it’s still just as fun and creative. Most of the outfits I take pictures of probably cost me no more than $1 - $10 for every single item combined. Obviously it depends on location - I have better access now that I live near a place like the bins, which I understand there may not be similar resources in small towns or etc. But even with generic thrift stores (which may not be as cheap as the bins), you can still find pretty good alternatives to all the money it costs to buy things brand new. There’s still some stuff I legit just can’t do because I don’t have access to the materials, but for the most part I can manage everything I’d like with $3 eye-shadows and 15 cent tattered curtain fabrics lol. You can still do really cool stuff on a pretty nonexistent budget!

10. “do you have any tips on growing your hair long? is it expensive to up keep? i wanna grow mine out but it grows so slow!”

Well, I know nothing about hair and am not a hair stylist or etc. so I really don’t have any tips lol??  And I think hair maintenance depends a lot on the type of hair you have, not everyone’s is the same. I assume we must have similar hair  (my natural hair is thick kind of coarse very dark brown/black hair, which is a bit wavy in some parts but mostly straight, but most of my hair currently (aside from the overgrown roots at the top) is altered because of damage from bleaching and etc., it’s more brittle. so that’s what I’ll be referencing) if you’re asking me this instead of someone else, but just know that whatever I say may not apply to you.  

Anyway, I really don’t do anything to my hair to make it grow or etc., it’s just that I’ve gone a long time without cutting it lol. I used to cut it all the time or change styles, and now I’ve kind of just left it for 5 or 6 years or so. Because of my mental illness I have trouble maintaining personal care and etc., so I do sometimes go a week or more without washing it, even though I’m trying to work that into my schedule more (luckily I don’t have stinky head, I’ve heard some people’s scalp oils and stuff can smell weird if left for too long, I have the privilege of being able to like.. skip on hygiene a lot without it severely impacting my ability to do things or etc. since it’s usually not obvious if I haven’t bathed in a week or two). 

My cat also EATS HUMAN HAIR for some reason, so I have to keep it up all the time, so that when I shed it doesn’t actually just fall loose onto the ground lol. Literally all I do to my hair is just keep it in two braids at all times and wash it with normal shampoo and conditioner occasionally, when I can. I really only think it’s gotten long because I’ve been leaving it alone and not messing with it, not really because of anything I’ve done (like I don’t use fancy products on it or etc.) And because of that, no, it’s not really expensive! It absolutely WOULD be if I were like..a normal functioning person and I regularly bleached it and dyed it and put products on it and styled it and used shampoo and conditioner every 1-3 days on it and etc. lol.. But I guess because I don’t do anything to it to maintain it, I’m not spending money on hairspray or dye or shampoo or etc.  I used to bleach it a lot and straighten it and use hairspray and stuff on it, and it seems healthier (at least on the new top parts) now that I’m just ... ignoring it basically lol. But I don’t really know what to do to make it grow faster! I’m bad at self-care, and even if I do costumes and stuff, I really am not into beauty and hair and nails and makeup and stuff, so I’m probably the wrong person to ask hghjhb.. My upkeep routine is just... eat and sleep. wash face with water daily.. do extra stuff if you can manage to despite your functioning issues, etc. I’m definitely not a Beauty Advice person, I barely brush my hair even once a week lol

11. "Maybe you should reduce the number of races if it's too overwhelming? A world can still be immersive with only a few races in it."

(sidenote - Not to be nitpicky, but I make a specific point that the groups of fantasy creatures I create are species, not ‘’races’’, even though it is a commonly used term in fantasy worldbuilding, I think it’s inaccurate/weird )

I know I don’t have to make so many different groups, but, I guess I just really want it to be a broad setting. Part of the point in creating Nanyevimi (aside from worldbuilding just being extremely fun and a hobby greatly suited to someone with my personality traits lol) is to have an established world that I can do anything within, a framework already built where it'd be super easy to just drop a character anywhere on the map and already have an idea of what their culture, background, experiences, etc. would be based on pre-existing details about that portion of the world, etc. But I also want it to be broad, and varied, where every area kind of has it’s own dynamics going on there, so if you’re in a different place, you get a different kind of story. (like in an elven alliance city, you’d be better suited to tell an adventure story centering around complicated local politics, or city life, or etc.. whereas out in some isolated mountains in the south, it’d be more suited for a mystery story about stumbling across ancient ruins, or running into a mysterious traveler, etc.) 

Which I guess doesn’t matter much, since I'm better at setting, world design, character design, planning, and details than I am at plot, so  I probably won’t actually ever do anything with it (god forbid I tried to write a book or something with my utter inability to be concise/brief in any imaginable way). I can craft settings/characters/history/world-details all day endlessly, never losing inspiration or etc, but my weak point is actually telling stories within those settings and formulating a solid plan, organizing plot structures long term and etc.. Setting up everything for something to happen/creating a place where many interesting premises could occur is fine, but then actually thinking of how those things should OCCUR, or how the set up should play out, is where I get kind of lost. I guess the ideal at some point would be to have people working with me, helping when writing stories in my world/outlining games/etc, to add more cohesion/structure and reign in the unfocused stream of ideas,  but that’s very unlikely since I don’t have any close friends that are good at organizing or plotting either, etc. BUT anyway, even if I can’t ever manage to do anything with it, the whole “having a setting I can use for anything I want if anything ever comes up, which is already established and thus makes it much easier to formulate ideas because all the background work is already done for myself” thing is at least a nice goal.. in concept...theoretically lol..  

And, it’s not really too overwhelming, I think the overwhelming part is actually just formatting and producing those ideas in a consumable form. It’s not hard for me to keep track of 20 different groups and make backgrounds and every imaginable detail for them, but it IS hard to actually take all that information that exists in my head, type it out as a worldbuilding post, format and organize it, draw pictures to go with it, etc. If I could just post long stream of consciousness style 300,000 word long posts with no paragraph breaks, 4000 typos, barely any punctuation, etc., then I’d have A LOT more world-building info publicly available (since that’s what all the initial documents on my computer look like lol), but that’s just so inaccessible it’d be pointless to have public in the first place. The hard part isn’t really coming up with or managing the information, it’s just... organizing it all, and finding a way to share it. 

12. "oh PLEASE tell me what boing peach beverage the elf looks like"

a quick sketch of them.. mysterious peach (and other produce) salesman   

13. "fun question: what are ur fashion pet-peeves?"

Well, basically none because I hate when people are rigid over Fashion Rules or etc. Like, people who take pictures of others in public because they “look weird” , or who constantly trash on what people are allowed to wear, what patterns can be mixed with others, etc. etc. I get that some stuff can look kind of bad sometimes, and it’s not that I think nobody is allowed to criticize fashion trends or etc. (especially if they’re legitimately problematic, like of course someone wearing a homophobic t-shirt or doing blackface should be criticized), but I mean just like... that sort of trivial bitter criticism that doesn’t do anything but make people feel bad about the way they look or make them afraid to dress in ways they feel comfortable. Like taking a picture of someone and posting it online to make fun of them because they wore socks with sandals, or bullying 14 year olds who just started doing makeup and haven’t totally gotten their look sorted out yet, etc. etc. (ESPECIALLY since this can often intersect with classism, racism, etc. if you really examine what people mock as 'ugly' or 'unacceptable' styles, it's often stuff like men wearing dresses/makeup, women not shaving, clothing associated with poverty (like wearing “”cheap”” clothes), physical traits commonly associated with poc, making fun of people who look a certain way likely due to mental illness (like fidgeting, dirty mismatched clothing, carrying stuffed animals or comfort items in public etc.), etc. etc.

I find costumes and makeup and outfits to be a very cool and fun way to express myself. So when people are complete freaks about it and set out to just relentlessly make others feel bad for no good reason, it’s like... obnoxious... How can you take something with so much potential and limit it and close others off and turn it into this rigid hateful thing, when it should be something that everyone is able to be passionate about and appreciate?? Outside appearance isn't everything, but it's a tool of expression for so many people and can relate to who they are as a person, people should never feel uncomfortable to be who they are or look how they look just because some dumbass rich person writing for a style magazine has the gall to declare some random thing to be 'Unfashionable' despite not having a genuinely creative bone in their body, or some bigot thinks that certain things are ‘ugly’ or ‘unprofessional’ due to their own mental associations, etc.

But anyway, I guess if I had to choose a few things that I just think look kind of odd to me personally/are generally off-putting...  

--- the overdrawing lips thing when you can see the persons actual lip-line and it almost looks like they have two mouths or something? (if not done intentionally for costume makeup). It can look a little strange to me sometimes, like an optical illusion where you see multiple mouth lines at once?? idk like this?

--- freckles that are just round circles and really heavy and don’t look realistic (though again, I also realize this could just be the person’s first time drawing them on or something and I’m not  mocking for lack of skill, etc. I just mean that it’s a little strange to look at, not actually BAD though) (and it can also be intentional, like for a cartoony costume look) ---- People adopting cutesy/childlike fashion and clothing and sexualizing it or using it as part of their sex/kink stuff.. I just feel like anything associated with children should not be sexualized..? If the first thing someone thinks when seeing children's school uniforms or frilly little girl’s doll dresses or whatever is that it could be a Hot Thing then hhh... like why is your brain making those connections lol.. People can dress how they want for whatever reasons they want, but that’s always personally creeped me out a little. Similar to our culture’s obsession with looking young being ‘hot’ (like a grown man wanting someone who’s a legal adult but still “looks 16″ or etc.), where it’s like.. okay, I guess yeah outwardly you can make that choice, and maybe aren’t directly causing harm, but.. the underlying tones of it and etc. still make it very unsettling to witness lol... ---- anything appropriated obviously, as well as fetishization or bastardization of cultures, like t-shirts with Japanese writing on them Just For Aesthetic, or taking certain culturally or religiously significant symbols or etc. and adopting them as ‘just a silly fashion’ thing when you’re actually being disrespectful, etc.  ---- those shorts or whatever that go up extremely high on the hipbones always look a little weird to me lol, like they give a person funny proportions, 

(you may have to right click open image in new window and zoom to see the text, but it’s like.. the blank space makes it look kind of weird to me? Like there’s too much where there’s just nothing going on? idk. That’s just my personal preference though, obviously I tend to lean towards busy designs lol)

That’s all I can think of though, like I said, I’m really not picky or judgy about fashion since I think people should be able to do whatever they want for the most part. I’m not like a “omg stripes should NEVER be worn with plaid!!” type person or something lol. 

14. "Hey Luca! I love when you post about your world. Do you have a favorite species you've made up so far? Also, I hope you're holding up well during the crisis!"

AAaa thanks! I’m okay mostly. It’s distressing since because of my particular mental illness I already have constant paranoia and obsessions about health, so of course hearing about so much illness can be really triggering constantly and I’m preoccupied in never-ending anxiety spirals about mortality and etc. etc. etc. , but situationally, I’m just very thankful that nobody in my household has gotten sick yet and I desperately wish that will continue to be the case. *** *** *** 

(ignore the *** *** *** , this is a text version of a physical compulsion (a hand movement) that I have to do when I mention certain topics lol.. the little man in my brain that controls my obsessive compulsive disorder says I must do certain things after saying or thinking certain things,, You Know How It Is ) 

And I really love worldbuilding questions, so thank you so much!!!!! Hghgh maybe it seems weird to favor any over the others, but of course I really like the Avirre'thel. Conceptually, I think their origin story and connection to ancient elves and their abilities and etc. put them in a really unique position in the broader world (some of the only truly immortal people to exist, the only people who can still decipher ancient elven texts in a way that makes sense, etc. etc.). Since Nanyevimi (my world) is really just a setting being built so that in the future I can set things within it (games, short stories, etc.), I think I'm drawn to the aspects of it that have the most potential to make interesting characters, and there are definitely a lot of pre-established dynamics with the Avirre'thel/in Navyete (their home country) as a whole that would make it an good place to set certain things, or a good group for a main character to be from, etc.

I do really like the Jhevona as a species overall too, even if I haven't developed them as much, they also kind of stand out as having some fairly unique features that put them in an interesting position in the world (being one of the most magically capable groups that exists but that also having downsides (health issues and infertility from magic exposure, etc.), how the necessity to keep control over their magic influences their culture, being some of the only natural shape-shifters, etc.). Within that, I REALLY love the Thastanri (a subspecies of Jhevona), like their connection to dreams, the Imkasyn, being one of the last few peoples in contact with real dragons, etc. etc. There are a lot of complex things going on in their area, so there’d be a lot of potential to tell a variety of stories or have interesting characters from that group. 

AND, though it's supposed to be Unknown in the world so I won't talk about it just in case I ever write a book one day or something and need to preserve at least a FEW mysteries that I don't just outright explain in worldbuilding posts, Jhevona do have the most interesting origins of any species in my opinion. There are some things from before the timeline break sort of thing (where all recorded history was seemingly wiped and everyone had a big memory loss about 50,000 yrs ago) that people aren't aware of anymore... but Jhevona used to have a cool backstory and quite interesting function in society prior to that. There are some remnants in the genetics of the species and how their magic works (at least for certain groups) that kind of hint at how ancient Jhevona used to look and what they used to do, even though in the modern day things are very different.

15. "Top 10 songs you've been listening to lately?"

I don’t have a top 10 since I listen to everything for different reasons, and don’t have as deep a relationship with music the way some people do (like I don’t really have a favorite band or group I have a connection with that’s “gotten me through hard times”, or music I cry to/any songs that are specifically personally emotionally meaningful to me, etc., etc.), but here’s a quick playlist of a few favorite-ish things I’ve had in my head a lot recently - 

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLPmQ4SZdFFHNkgKo7nAiEMgVvLcycX5Qc

the last song on the list specifically I’ve been replaying a lot for some reason, I guess since it’s good background music as there’s no words. Particularly the part that starts around like 38 seconds in, something about that melody reminds me of something distant, in a dreamlike way. The past few days I mostly alternate between that song, Outstanding, and And The Beat Goes On  lol

16. " Do you ever sell sculptures? I really like that little fawn!"

Yeah, I hope to eventually! Like I mentioned in question number three, if I can set up some sort of way to do auctions or etc, then maybe I can sell that one! 

17 & 18 : '"aaa yay!! i missed your outfits!!!" / "can I just say love ur outfits! They're so cool and inspire me to draw my ocs with new outfits > o < and I love your cat too, please give him a big ol pat!"

Thank you!!!! more compliments posted just to show I appreciate them lol, even if I don’t publicly respond to every one~ And, the Boyes appreciate the pats.. here is them.. big babbeys... 

#it bothers me still that I didn't take all the screenshots the same way and there's different colors of nu #mbers and etc. lol.... but some of those are from 4 months ago or more and I had already deleted the original ask #from my inbox so I can't go rescreencap it to match the others.. #this is the issue inherent in taking so long to answer things that I just respond in large batches lol #replies #okay also I know it's been months but... one of you has to like this post or at least show you read/interacted with my #response somehow because I cannot spend like 4-5 hours typing stuff for others if nobody will read it ghghg #( i know i make it take longer by being rambly and etc. but.. still...) #I'm sorry they sat in my inbox a long time and etc. but... also..... my pwecious time and effort #i hope at least one of the people I'm responding to sees that i did indeed reply to them lol