#got so many photos in my drafts so you’ll be seeing them for a while

[divinefireangel]

Hello ✍️Writer✍️, I would like to 🤌request🤌 a reaction where their s/o likes ❣️kissing❣️ their ❤neck❤ 🌠Innocentlly🌠but it 🌌turns the 🕺Bois💃 on🌌 🤡accidentally🤡 Thank you for blessing us with your Beautiful 🤌 beautiful 🤌 works✍️❣️

Idk why but so many emojis are making very happy 😂

I HAVE SO MANY DRAFTS HELP

Warnings: Suggestive? Fluff? Crack? Well idk. Mentions of food. Domestic af SF9. Yes that is a warning. Sensitive neck! SF9. Just go with it 💀.

Youngbin

"I'll hug you and you click the picture"

"Okay. But you'll have to help me angle it properly cause of your outfit."

"I know I know. Just turn it a bit towards me. Okay. Yes!" You exclaim finally happy with the angle. Clicking a good number of selfies with your boyfriend Youngbin, you check them to make sure that you atleast got a few you can post.

Monitoring the pictures along with you, Youngbin holds you close to him even after the photo session. You see, there was a wedding. One of your friend's. And being your boyfriend, Youngbin offered to be your date.

So here you both are, all doll'd up and pretty, finally taking couple pics after what seems like forever. Smiling happily you bounce on your feet. The pictures turned out perfect!

To celebrate, you kiss him joyfully, well you ended up kissing his neck because that the height you are able to reach with your heels right now. Pulling away with a small smile, a frown takes over when you notice your lipstick mark on his neck.

Widening your eyes, you panic trying to figure out how you can remove the mark quickly. Remembering that you have tissues in your bag, you take take it out and begin to clean.

"I'm sorry. I forgot I had lipstick." You say sadly, but concentrating on the task in hand. Youngbin, however, is still frozen in his spot, not even moving his eye lids. When you finish and move away, he breathes out contracting his chest.

"Jagi." He huffs slowly. "You, you can't just do that." He says in a small pout.

"Do what?" You look in his eyes. Realizing that you meant nothing by it, his face just breaks into a smile.

"Nothing. Let's go. Or we're going to be late!" He exclaims wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you to walk with him.

Inseong

A lovely afternoon spent with your boyfriend. Aka. You having your nose in your novel and him having his nose in his novel. It's actually something you both do often. And then comes the regular discussing favourite parts, which he claims is the best part of your mini book club.

You were both seated at opposite ends if the couch, when you huffed closing your book. Now, normally you would've finished it, but for some reason your eyes were starting to lose focus. Maybe it was stress or overworking. Keeping the book on the table in front of the couch, you slowly crawl away from your side to his.

Peering over his shoulder, you try to see what page he is on.

"What are you doing?" Inseong asked with a smirk.

"Nothing. Just cuddling my super cuddly boyfriend" you said whilst moving your legs on his lap and hands landing around his shoulders. Kissing his cheek with a smile, you nest your head in his neck, closing you eyes when you feel his arm on your back.

Blinking your eyes open, you mindlessly pout, tired and a bit bored. 'Hmm, he smells nice', you think to yourself. Sliding your head back a little on his shoulder, you start to drag your pouty lips against his neck, occasionally pecking it too.

Biting his lip, Inseong shuts his eyes, moaning in satisfaction as you kiss his neck. Giggling at his reaction, you stop what you're doing. "Are you actually getting turned on by me just kissing your neck? " you ask with the biggest smile on your face.

Reciprocating your smile, Inseong chuckles, opening one of his eyes to look at you. "Not my fault. You just know how to drive me crazy for you." He says leaning forward to capture your lips in a dizzying kiss.

Jaeyoon

Sitting on a chair near the dining table, Jaeyoon scrolls through his phone, scouring for a new recipe to try out. Finding one that seems interesting, he clicks on it and starts to read. Being so engrossed in learning it, he fails to notice you come out of the bedroom.

Almost walking past him towards the fridge, you stop in your tracks and decide to have some fun. Tapping his left shoulder, you wait for him to turn but quickly move to the right. Snickering silently, you repeat the same action again, now tapping his right side, but he notices your hair before you moved.

Chuckling he looks down shaking his head. "Jagiya, you're very cute. But not very slick." He laughs when you whine into his neck. Relaxing onto his back, you pout sadly.

"What are you seeing?" You ask curiously.

"A new recipe you might like. I think we have all the ingredients, so I was planning on trying it. What do you think?" He hums in question, raising a hand to pet your hair.

"Okay. I'll be happy with whatever you feed me." You reply genuinely. Playing a kiss on his cheek first, he turns to look back to his phone smiling. But you wanted to kiss him more. So instead you just choose to kiss his neck.

Licking your lips a little, you press a medium kiss on his neck, making his stop everything he was doing. Unfazed, you walk to the fridge to take a cold water bottle from it. Turning you gasp, almost colliding into Jae's chest.

"Jae... " you say looking at him, wondering why he's standing so close to you. Sighing he leans down to your height, kissing you on the lips once. Twice. Thrice.

Keeping the water bottle on the kitchen counter next to the fridge, you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, feeling his back muscles as you make out with your boyfriend. Loving your reciprocation, Jaeyoon lifts you off the ground and makes you sit on the counter, not breaking the kiss for one second...

Dawon

You gasp in surprise when you feel a strong chest hug into you. Kissing the side of your head, Sanghyuk smiles, happy to finally have you in his arms after another long day of work.

"Hi"

"Hi baby. You took a shower?" You ask, noticing that he's wearing only sweatpants.

"Yeah. I went to the gym after work." He replies, walking towards the mirror to apply his moisturizer.

Nodding you change out of your work clothes, finally feeling like you can breathe again. Now it was your turn to hug him.

Approaching him slowly, you tickle your way around his torso and abs, resting your forehead against his ear you sigh satisfactorily. Smiling widely at your clingyness, Sanghyuk continues to moisturize. "Tired?"

Humming a response you open your eyes and breathe out, having closed your eyes as soon as you hugged him. Pluckering your lips, you lean up to kiss one long sweet kiss on his neck. And then another next to it. And another.

"I thought you were tired." He says in a deadpanned tone.

"I am" you hum.

"Fuck it. I'll do most of the work then" Turning around, Sanghyuk stares down at you, biting his lip sexily making your breath hitch and mind go blank. Grabbing your waist in one hand to pull you flush into him, he leans down to connect your lips together while his other hand cups your butt, asking you to jump into his arms so he can take you to bed for a long, long night.

Zuho

You were laying across the couch, you boyfriend Juho sitting on the ground, his back on the same couch near your head. You were waiting for your lunch to be delivered, the app saying it'll take only a few minutes.

The day was spent well with taking the cats to the vet, then going grocery shopping and coming back home and putting them in their respective containers. Of course the whole ordeal tired you both out. So you decided to treat yourselves by ordering in.

You laugh silently as Juho played with Kompangg, making weird sounds to get the feline's attention and to make her meow. Huru of course the rebel, in his own world, sleeping cutely in his bed.

Pulling yourself forward by your arms, you place you head on Juho's shoulder, trying to help him play with his younger pawed child. When she finally meowed after a lot of both of your efforts, you cheer extending your arm to pet her ears.

Smiling at her doey eyes, you place an innocent kiss on Juho's neck, resuming your previous position on the couch.

"Why did you do that? " Juho asks, putting Kom in the ground. Turning to you with a smirk, Juho leans his hands on the couch.

"Do what?" You ask quizzically, cause you really didn't know. Looking at your clueless expression, Juho realizes that you didn't mean anything by that kiss. Pursuing his lips, he looks down on his lap, cringing at his dirty mind.

"Did you think I wanted sex?!" You accuse him when you figure out what he was thinking. Scratching the back of his neck, he laughs timidly trying to think of an excuse when the front door bell rang.

"Ah! Yes food's here!" He says quicky, sprinting off towards the door while you laugh.

Rowoon

Sprawled widely on the bed, Seokwoo replies to his texts with a pout on his lips while waiting for you to join him so he can cuddle you to sleep. Jumping onto the bed, you grab your pillow and lay on top of it for support while looking into his phone too.

"Why do you have so many at this time? "

"I ignored the group from morning." He replies.

Nodding your head, you sigh in exhaustion from the day's work. Pushing half of your body on his, you rest your chin in his neck and close your eyes. What you've been addicted to since dating him, was situating yourself on top of him whenever where ever he lies down. It always gave you warmth. And him a sense of feeling small. He also loves it when you give him a back massage or draw on top of his wide back, just for the fun of it.

"Okay! I'm done. Let's sleep." Seokwoo says making you open your eyes in surprise.

"Okie" you say in a small voice, bending down to peck his neck before rolling off him onto your side if the bed.

Opening his mouth for a good ten seconds, he licks his lips and turns his head to look at you. Seeing you wrap yourself in the comforter like a burrito, he blinks in confusion.

Once settled, you look at him in question, wondering why he isn't tucking himself in. "Why are you not turning? Are you okay? "

Your words pull him out of his trance. Opening his mouth to answer, but closing it again when he realizes that he doesn't have one, he just looks at you.

"Nothing. Good night." He finally says, wondering why such a simple action took him by so much surprise.

Yoo Taeyang

Smiling lovingly Taeyang stands in the kitchen preparing an even more love filled meal for you. He knows how you've only had a small breakfast, so he took it upon himself to make you something delicious for when you come out of the bedroom after attending all your meetings.

Humming along with the song playing in the background, he stirs the contents of the pot. "Y/N will like this." He says to himself. And as if you cue, he hears the bedroom door open and from there came out a very tired you.

Walking into the kitchen, you let your feet drag you till you're behind Taeyang. Wrapping your arms around his torso while being careful of the hot vessel on the stove, you rest your head on his back. "I hate work" you complain pouting.

"I know. " he agrees, chuckling at your childish behaviour. Taking in a deep breath, smelling the aroma of your lunch, you sway in happiness while still hugging Taeyang. Rising on your tippy toes, you place a small kiss on his neck, squeezing him tightly in your arms. Freezing he widens his eyes as his shoulders tense at your actions.

"You're amazing" you compliment him. Pulling away you begin to walk towards the bathroom, completely failing to notice your blushing mess of a boyfriend.

"You can't just do that!" He complains loudly to a still very clueless you.

Hwiyoung

Tired from overworking yourself, you close your eyes leaning back in your chair. Youngkyun was sitting next to you, doing his work. Noticing your despair immediately, he pauses and saves his work first, then yours.

"Let's go take a nap. We've been here long enough." He says, worry laced in every syllable.

Nodding you push your chair back a bit, until your legs are out. Lifting your arms up to him, you silently ask him to carry you to bed. Smiling at your cuteness, he obliges, not having the heart to say no to you. Like always.

And so he gently picks you up bridal style and walks to the bed. And just as, if not even more gently, he places you on the bed. Unfolding the blanket, he spreads it on the bed before getting in with you, making sure you are tucked in well.

Attacking him as soon as he's settled next to you, you throw one leg across his torso and intertwine your hands on his chest,nuzzling your nose shamelessly in his neck. Chuckling he starts to pat your shoulder, back and head, to put you to sleep.

Releasing a breath finally feeling relaxed, you turn your head up to kiss him, not really caring where you ended up kissing him, but you kiss him. "I love you" you mumble against his skin.

Biting his lip, he continues to pat you to sleep, while he lays there wide awake, still feeling the aftermath of your simple kiss. Little do you know, he's silently begging his hormones to calm down or else he will never hear the end of it.

Chani

A typical Saturday afternoon for the two of you. You are engrossed in your work while Chanhee is on his desktop playing games. Being cooped up in your work for so long, you decide that you needed to take a break. Probably a snack too.

Getting up from your position, you walk towards Chanhee's chair to wrap your hands around his shoulders. Smiling when he feels your presence behind him, he just continues to play his game. Playing a sweet kiss on his cheek, you lean your head against his temple, averting your attention to the screen.

"What"

"Nothing. Just trying to see what's so interesting in the game."

Lifting your head to look at him for a moment, you bend down and press your nose to his neck. Giggling at your action, Chani is about to protest when he freezes in his spot. Playing tiny pecks of admiration on his neck repeatedly, you close your eyes happy to be in his warmth.

"Stop! " Chani exclaims in surprise, pausing the game.

Opening your eyes at this sudden outburst, you look at him with curious eyes. "Why?"

"Do you- Are you- ah.... " Gulping he is at a loss for words. Staring at your with wide eyes he just opens and closes his mouth.

Blinking you giggle at his flush state, not really catching what's going on in his mind. "I'm gonna make myself a snack. When you decide what and how you want to tell me, I'll be ready." You laugh exiting the room, leaving a very dumbfolded Chani in your wake.

#not sure if this is the best 🥺👉🏽👈🏽 #but i tried #sf9 #sf9 reactions #sf9 fluff #sf9 imagines #sf9 scenarios #sf9 x reader #sf9 x reader fluff

[matbaerzal]

Love Notes | B. Boeser

Summary: Brock surprises you with a weekend camping trip. He sets up a scavenger hunt with clues for you to find out where he is waiting for you. A/N: I got this idea way back in June when I was out camping, and I finally put my mind into finishing it. let me know what you think 💕 Warnings: FLUFF, like one swear, gossip girl references & camping... Words: 3,5K Copyright © @matbaerzal 2020 All Rights Reserved Tagging: @powerblais​ because the photo is a screenshot of her gif 😅 & @tkachukme​ @captainkreider​ @yeeehaw-hockey​ @tysojost​ @puckbitchesgetmoney​ @canadianheaters​ @shirarihena​ 

Coming home from work on a Friday during the off-season you’d grown used to having Brock welcome you home, Coolie and Milo following after. So when you open the door and find the house empty you can’t help the frown that takes over your face. Though, as you see one of his perfectly folded notes on the fridge door, a smile takes over.

Brock liked leaving you little notes, he’d been doing that ever since you were in elementary school. Back then they were filled with stupid jokes or questions that could’ve definitely waited until after class. Now, they were filled with words of love and adoration. Regardless, they had always made you smile. You’d known him forever, you grew up on the same street, went to the same school and your parents had always been really close.

You walk over, putting your bag on the kitchen counter, before unclipping the note from the magnet on the fridge. You unfold it, scanning the paper quickly. It’s a bit lengthier than his usual notes, so you sit down on the island whilst you read the first sentence.

I hope you had a good day at work, sorry I’m not there to hug you and kiss you.

You smile to yourself, leaning your chin on the palm of your hand before reading the rest

But, I thought we could go camping this weekend. I’m already there, probably just finished setting up the tent by the time you read this. Before you join us there are a couple of things I need you to pick up for us. Each clue will bring you to a new location where you’ll find a new note.

Your first clue: The first time we kissed

Love, Brock x

This was new to you, not Brock surprising you with a weekend getaway, but the scavenger hunt. You bit your lip in excitement, reading the note again as your mind drifts off to when you first kissed - to figure out what his clue could mean.

You and Brock had a lot of almost-kisses as you were growing up. But, your first actual kiss happened when you were sixteen years old.

“All you ever do is watch gossip girl” he rolls his eyes, you poke your tongue out at him. “You’re free to watch it with me,” you say. Before you know it he’s laying his whole weight on top of you, and you can’t help but laugh in surprise.

“What are you doing?” you say through your laugh, and he has the audacity to shush you. “Brock?” you try to push him off of you, his weight crushing you, but he doesn’t budge, “will you calm down? I’m trying to watch,” he says, pointing at the TV.

“You’re the absolute worst” you gape at him. He finally looks at you with a smile, and he’s a lot closer than you thought, though he doesn’t seem to mind. You feel your heart beating against your chest as his eyes scan your face.

Like so many times before, your eyes drift down to his lips, and you feel his breath across your face. Like so many times before, you think you might actually kiss him - but at the sound of the end titles of an episode you’re hit with your reality.

You can’t kiss Brock - he’s your best friend. You don’t want to risk losing that for some silly crush.

You clear your throat, turning your head away from him, struggling to reach the remote so you can play the next episode. You don’t notice the defeated look in Brock's eyes as he adjusts his body, so only half his weight is on you, making it easier for you to reach the remote.

The two of you watch a few more episodes, but all you can focus on is him. You’re painfully aware of his hand and how it’s on your waist - his thumb mindlessly rubbing back and forth over the fabric of your hoodie. Though, even through the layers, you feel it - and it’s torture. His actions are so sweet but you know he means nothing by them, that he’s just mindlessly doing it.

“Hey, this show’s actually good,” he speaks up, making your focus shift to his voice instead.

“You’ve been laying here for 4 episodes, and you’re only just now realizing that?” you laugh.

“Well, in my defence, I wasn’t really focusing on the show”

“Oh? What were you focusing on, then?”

“What I always focus on,” he says matter of factly, confusing you further.

“And that is-?”

“You.”

A breath hitches in your throat, and you suddenly notice how his arm has tightened around you - as if you’d drift away if he didn’t hold you close.

“I always focus on you” he confirms with a low voice, but it feels loud to you, and his words make you dizzy.

He lets his hold of you go a little when you try to turn in his arms. It’s only when you face him again that you notice the deep breaths he’s taking, and the nervous look on his face. You’re close again, like before, and the same thought comes back.

His lips are parted, and they just look so soft and you wonder what it would feel like to just-

Suddenly you don’t have to wonder anymore as he presses his lips against yours. The kiss is cautious at first, but as you melt against him, it grows firmer. Your fingers thread through his hair like you’ve done this a thousand times before - like it’s what you’re meant to do.  

Anything else around you disappears as the two of you stay wrapped up in each other. The conversation about what it all means is a worry for another time - though, you’re not really worried about it anymore.

You touch your lips, remembering how his lips felt against yours then - how they still feel. Going over the moment again you try to figure out where his next clue might be. Then, you remembered how he’d bought you a box set of all the gossip girl seasons, and you wonder if he might have hidden it in the box.

Sure enough, when you take out the DVD covers, you find a note stuck to one of them.

Your second clue: The first note I gave you.

This time, you know exactly where to go as soon as you read the clue. Setting the note down on the counter next to the first one before going to the bedroom to get changed for the trip.

Your parents always told you, that at first, you found Brock annoying, all he wanted to do was shoot rubber disks at the wall by his garage - and even though he was polite and invited you to join, you could think of a million things that would be more fun.

Eventually, you grew bored of having to find other things to do, so you decided to take Brock up on his offer - only to discover that it wasn’t as easy as it looked. So instead, you decided put up targets on the asphalt in front of his garage for him to try and hit. Your teddybear, Cuddles, got the worst of it.

You were both 6 when Brock gave you his first note. It was more of a drawing really, of him hitting you right in the stomach with a puck. But the letters written with blue crayon unmistakably spelled out “I’m sorry”.

After getting changed and packing a few essentials, you grabbed your car keys along with the note and drove over to his parents’ house. You’ve barely made it out of your car before his mom comes out to greet you. “Hey honey,” she says rushing over to you, “Hi Laurie,” you lean into her hug. “Hey Duke,” you say, seeing him standing in the doorway over her shoulder.

“We’ve got something for you” she sings, her whole body language telling you there’s something she’s keeping from you. But you don’t press for it as you reach the doorway. Laurie goes into the house as you give Duke a hug. She reappears in a second with a sleeping bag in her hands. “Here you go, have fun camping” she sings, “thank you” you smile, giving them both one more hug before going back to your car.

With a million thoughts running through your head you get back in the driver seat, finding the note tucked into the side of the sleeping back before throwing it in the backseat. Before you unfold it you look back at Laurie and Duke, the same secretive smiles on each of their faces as they wave at you before closing the door. Before you overthink and look into things that might just be your imagination running wild, you unfold the paper.

Your third clue: Our first date

Though you shared your first kiss when you were sixteen, you didn’t have your first actual date until you were eighteen - according to Brock, anyways. See, after you kissed, the two of you just started dating, you didn’t need to go on “dates”, because you knew each other so well already.

And every time you went to the movies together or went to the lake - you didn’t really consider that to be dates, because you’d done all that before even when you were just friends. And while you weren’t too fussy on what was a date and what wasn’t, Brock had been insistent on one evening, in particular, being your first date.

You were out for dinner, just the two of you, celebrating the draft and him being selected by the Canucks. It wasn’t until the desserts came that he realized - “this is our first date”.

“What? We’ve been on plenty of dates” you laugh at him.

He doesn’t exactly disagree, but you know he’s about to contradict your words anyway.

“We’ve never dressed up and went out to a fancy restaurant before though,” he points out.

“True, but that doesn’t mean we haven’t been on a date before”

“Ok, so name the last time we went on a date, then” he challenges with a smile.

“Well, last Wednesday-”

“Being on the lake with my parents doesn’t count as a date” he argues.

You laugh, holding your hands up giving up the argument, “if you want this to be our first date, then - this, is our first date” you smile softly at him. He raises his glass, and you clink yours against it, “you’d think we’d be running out of firsts by now” you muse.

“Oh no, my love. We have a lifetime of firsts ahead of us”

It hits you then, just how well you and Brock know each other. No one else would have been able to answer that question but the two of you. Even if you asked your mom what she thought yours and Brock’s first date was, she’d just joke and say the first day you met - back when you were kids.

Well, there’s one other person that knows of that detail - the owner of the restaurant you went to, Nora. You and Brock had been there many many times by now and she would always come over and chat for a little while whenever you were there. After the two of you we’re old enough to drink she’d given you both some wine on the house - laughing as you both pretended to like the taste, just to be polite.

You could already see her as you parked your car across the road from the restaurant. You practically skip across the road after looking both ways.

Nora perks up when she sees you - the look she gives you reminds you of the way Laurie and Duke had looked at you earlier. As she hugs you and ushers you over to the counter you don’t have time to look into it too much. She disappears into the kitchen momentarily, coming back with a take away bag for you. You see the folded note attached to it instantly.

“Your favourite,” she winks, and you can smell the sweet chocolate chip cookies without even taking a peek at them. After you’ve taken the bag from her she looks around to see if anyones looking before bending down and getting a bottle of wine, quickly putting that into a bag as well.

“Nora, you don’t have to-” you start, only to be interrupted, “I know, but you know I can’t help myself” handing the wine over to your reluctant hand.

“Thank you” you smile at her.

“Anything for my favorite couple” she brushes it off.

You give her another hug before you walk out, skipping across the road to get back to your car. Once you’re back in your seat you remove the note from the bag, setting it down in the passenger seat along with the wine.

You bite your lip as you unfold the note, your eyes scanning the handwritten letters with wonder.

Your final clue: The first time I told you I love you

You picture the scene vividly in your mind, not having to think twice before putting the car in drive. You’d been to the small secluded clearing by the lake countless times with Brock, and shared many treasured moments with him there.

If you had to have guessed where the scavenger hunt would end up, it would be your first guess, and you loved him for being so predictable even in his adventures. As you drive down the familiar roads you think back to that moment, years ago, when you first uttered those words to each other back when you were seventeen.

You and Brock jumped at the chance to go camping together the first week of summer. Packing his car full of essentials, and only essentials. Because, according to Brock, a bunch blankets and pillows, fairy lights and s’mores were all under that category.  

He’d found the spot a couple weeks ago when he was hiking, and he instantly thought of you when he saw it. The walk wasn’t too long, and Brock carried most of your stuff anyways - you almost had to fight him for the few items you were carrying.

You sighed out after everything was finally set up, sneaking your arms around Brocks waist as his arm slung across your shoulders. Then, you went for a swim, staying in the water until your skin turned pruney.

After that, Brock got started on the fire as you set up your chairs right next to each other, and got all your snacks ready. When your stomachs were filled you fell into a comfortable silence, and you fished out a book from your bag that Brock had given you a little while ago. With your head leaned on his shoulder, you opened the book for the first time.

A surprised chuckle leaves you as a familiar looking piece of paper falls into your lap.

“I’m sitting right next to you, you know,” you say, showing him the folded note. “Well, it’s been in there since I gave it to you,” he says matter-of-factly, “not my fault you didn’t open the book until now”.

You unfold the note carefully with a small smile on your face, shaking your head at him. You do a double take as you take in the words he’s written down for you.

Three words, eight letters

You look up at him, a breath catching in your throat when you meet his eyes, “Brock-”

“I love you” he cuts you off. The way it leaves his lips is effortless, and it makes you completely melt. You’re torn between wanting to wipe the smirk off his face and kissing him. You decide on the latter, grabbing his cheek - leading his lips to yours.

You don’t kiss him for long, quickly realizing you didn’t say the words back to him, and they all but stumble out of your lips “I love you too”.

Your car pulls up next to his and you breathe in deeply when you step out, double checking that you have everything before you make your way over to the start of the path. Your steps are hurried, eager to see him, to wrap your arms around him - to kiss him.

You see the hints of the sun setting through the trees, and you know you’ll just about make it to see the colors change.

You hear the water before you see anything and as a twig snaps under your foot you hear Coolie and Milo bark out for you. Coolie comes running up to you, and you kneel down to greet him before letting him lead the last of the way to Brock.

As the site comes to view you instantly feel relaxed. There’s a soft breeze, warm against your skin. The sun reflecting on the tiny waves in the water, the clouds have turned light pink as sunset comes near.

Your breath is taken away from you as you look over at Brock, he’s hung up what seems like hundreds of fairy lights in the trees by the tent. You’re barely able to look away from the scene as Milo comes up to you. You look at Brock in awe as you crouch down to pet Milo, giving him a short kiss before standing up to walk over to Brock.

“What’s all this for?” you say as you approach him. He doesn’t answer as he takes your items out of your hands, setting them down before kissing you deeply, making your mind go blank for a moment, getting lost in the kiss.

“Hi,” he finally says - you’re not able to get a read on the look on his face.

“Hey” you laugh, confusion still evident in your voice, looking at the scene again as if to make sure it was real.

Then, he takes your hand, biting his lip as he plays with your fingers, he almost seems out of breath now that you study him closer. He takes a deep breath before a smile takes over his face as he speaks.

“I’ve been searching for the perfect moment, for the perfect way to do this. Because you deserve the world - and more. This idea popped into my head months ago, and fuck- waiting till the season to be over and then waiting for both our schedules to clear has been near torture”

He huffs out a laugh before continuing, “but, I wanted everything to be perfect, even though I almost slipped up a couple times - like the time I was practicing what to say as you were sleeping and I thought I woke you up. You’re my world, and I couldn’t imagine my life without you-”

The way he says your name then, is unlike any time before. It’s not like how he says it in the morning or when he’s about to give you something that reminded him of you. It’s almost like when he’s telling you he loves you, but it’s so much more than that.

Your heart beats a mile a minute as you predict what he’s about to say, but nothing could’ve ever prepared you for what he does next. He takes a small velvet box out from his pocket as he gets down on one knee in front of you.

“Will you marry me?” his voice breaks a little as he takes in your glossy eyes, tears threatening to spill from his own as he opens the box to reveal the ring.

“No way-” you cry, the words stumbling out of your mouth. You can’t believe it, how lucky you are to have this man in your life and here he is, asking if he can spend the rest of his life with you.

A laugh leaves his lips at your words, because although you’d said “no way” your whole body was screaming “YES!”. A hand covering your quivering lips, a tear falling down your cheek as you nod. He stands up wrapping his arms around your waist, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you nuzzle into his neck.

Your feet lift off the ground as he spins you around, a joyful laugh leaving both your lips. He carefully sets your feet back on the ground and your hands slide to thread through his hair, urging his lips to yours.

“Yes- yes of course, I’ll marry you” you murmur, he nudges his nose against yours - leaving another kiss to your lips. Then his hand slides up your arm, gently taking your hand again, leaving it to rest on his chest. His other hand, still grasping the box comes between your bodies as he takes the ring out before grasping your hand again.

A breath catches in your throat as he slides the ring onto your finger, your free hand caressing his cheek, wiping the stray tear away.

You’d spent the day reminiscing over your past with Brock and now your mind travels to the future. Looking forward to spending it with him, and knowing that you’d have each other through the good and the bad - like you’d always had, like you always will.

#brock boeser #brock boeser imagine #brock boeser fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey rpf #op:w #love notes fic

[actualsunflower]

ur art is rlly inspiring for me... I struggle a lot with line art, would u be ok giving advice? I rlly love ur art

I'm really sorry I left this in my inbox for long, I've just been trying to figure out how to answer fjdfskf but first that makes me very happy that you find my art so inspiring 🥺 really, I've worked so hard on my art for so long, and I struggle so bad to see it as good and worthy of even sharing. Looking back at old art I can see the progress, but it's still hard to look at it and call it good myself. I have a bad habit of comparing myself to other artists out there and I never compare in my eyes :/ it's really hard unlearning that but I've been making a lot of progress, and actually spending almost a year not sharing any of my art really helped with that. (I'm not saying do the same thing it's just my experience!!) Now it doesn't bother me quite as much.

See I left this ask in my drafts for so long. I was going to make a little tutorial on how I do things, see if that helped but I just kinda... Never did it, executive dysfunction and work and all. So I'll just give some tips instead

1- My first advice is to give up the tiny lines, the one teeny line at a time thing, and go for full lines. It doesn't have to be like the entire face shape at once, but do bigger chunks because the more lines the more shaggy and jagged it looks. You won't get a smooth cohesive line like that if you're going for a clean and smooth look. It's hard to get over habits like that but once you do your art And your wrists/arms/shoulders will thank you. (This only applies if you want a clean look, if that's your thing and what you're going for disregard that. But this is about my art specifically.)

2- always stretch your wrists, it really does help. Give your hand a good pull back (not to where it hurts) and make a fist and roll your wrist, it helps A LOT and feels good lol stretching your whole body is good as well, if you've got bad posture like me you'll start hurting halfway through. A lot of times though you won't even notice you're in pain until you try to sit up.... Ouch

3- USE REFERENCES!!!! It is not cheating, it's not cutting corners it is essential to learning!!! And not just learning but it's essential for just enjoying art, it takes away so much frustration of "why doesn't this look right?!" And something else nice, is if you're really struggling with something, just take a picture of yourself and trace it. I do it all the time and it has saved me many a frustrating breakdown. Just make sure you own or have permission to use the photos you're tracing over. Just don't use it as a crutch, as in for every single thing because it can at some point hinder growth. My advice is just sketch over the general shape, and then do the rest yourself. Just having that shape/position will help way more than you know. And don't be afraid to just cobble together references, paste and reshape and move whatever you want or need.

4- Play with and make brushes. I have a special brush that is used Only for Jay's vitiligo and it saves me a lot of time, pain, and just looks really cool and helps me keep it consistent. And you'll be surprised at how you feel by just changing the brush you do line art with. Softer/harder brushes can change everything

5- literally who cares about shading. If it looks cool, put it in. If you don't think it looks cool, erase it. You are the god of lighting and shading in your own art, it doesn't matter where the light is coming from. Just say there's multiple light sources even, it really don't matter

6- learn to use multiply and add layers, they are super helpful and fun. Multiply layers are great for shading AND blush, I use one clipped over Jay's face for blush, just clip, watercolor over cheeks/nose/ear tips, slight transparency and bam perfect blush (for color, I pick base skin tone, slide bar to red, deepen a bit, perfect) (I use the color box/w the side bar) add layers are great for glowing things and bright lighting. (A tip for glowing things, use the desired color, blur a bit, then use a dot of white in the middle, blur that. Extra glow!)

7- warming up is a great idea. I just scribble a bunch, do little doodles of my pets, go from faintest to hardest in pressure and back again in on line, then I usually do something a bit more substantial, which is typically drawing Jay or Nick lol that's why I always have so many Jay and Nick drawings. It helps though

8- this one I feel is very important. Don't ever feel like you're copying someone else. People add and remove things from their style subconsciously, I have seen more than once where I post in my style and later see someone else who did something that incorporated that specific thing I did. It just happens. You do it without thinking, and you can do it while thinking it too. Don't trace people's art, but if you love the way someone draws eyes, just draw them like that too. Nobody owns an art style, no one can stop you and you will not get in trouble from doing that. Eventually anyway it will evolve into your own unique way, and people will do the same when they see your art. It's and endless cycle in the art community and it is one of the treasures of sharing our art. Whether we think it or not we are all influencing each other and it's a beautiful thing.

That's all I can think of rn so, I hope this is helpful and I apologize for taking forever lol

#sorry it's kinda long #hope it helps though #sunflower asks #art advice #if you find typos no you dont 💖

[notmrskennedy]

Professor, pt 1

A/N - so i heard from like four of you which is enough to warrant me posting drafts that weren’t supposed to see the light of day - ANYWAY this was originally written in third person and let me tell you it takes a ridiculous amount of effort to change tenses like holy hell. 

(Technically the prequel Friendliness but can stand alone if you really want it to. There’s a part two to this so watch out for that tomorrow.)

Summary - Spencer meets a professor and falls in love for a few hours

W/C - 2k

Warnings - none-ish? there’s a small smattering of violence and horrible changing of the tenses 

-----

Spencer can’t help the irony that he’s in a freshman college class for the first time ever while protecting one of the students. Who knew that a tiny club of DnD players could incite so much rage out of an un-sub? So here he was, trying to blend in—even though he’s 25, he still looks 14 and there’s really no real reason why he should be worried about being caught—in order to protect a freshman who was more pimple than male specimen. 

Joesph—the poor kid in question—takes a seat in the front row and Spencer’s obligated to sit within tackling distance, though he hopes it won’t come to that. Hopefully, Morgan will have the kid the un-sub goes for and Spencer can just enjoy being in college again. The painfully familiar auditorium seats, the stale air, and bad fluorescents feel more like home than he cares to admit. 

College hadn’t been all too unpleasant. High school he’d gotten picked on mercilessly. College, however, had meant getting doted on by hot sorority girls and earning the protection of frat boys—they’d picked up rather quickly that he knew football strategy better than they did after Spencer had hustled a TV and 400 dollars from them. Sure, he didn’t drink, but every single drunk teenager had welcomed him with open arms and lots of ginger ale. 

There’s chatter and for the ten minutes before class starts, Spencer is torn between trying to figure out which song is quietly playing around the room and watching for a particularly rage-filled college student serial killer. Instead, he just finds too many bored faces. Most of the kids are drinking coffee like the best of them and he’s itching for his next fix just looking at it. 

The first two rows: a terrible vantage point to be profiling, but a beautifully defensible post. He watches absently as one of the TAs, who looks a little younger than him, organizes three stacks of papers on the front desk and flips through several different pages on the podium. His attention is focused solely on you for nearly a minute too long—he can hear the voice in his head chastising him for how often he gets distracted by pretty people. 

You look of the fragile sort, the in-the-lab kind of future scientist. There’s something about you that’s captivating. It might be the way you keep reorganizing the papers to perfection or maybe it’s the way you study the room so closely. And while he thinks that you might not be able to physically stop someone, you sure look like the kind of person that could crush him in chess. 

He’s 25 and is considering chess as a marriage proposal.  

Joesph shuffles his books around in the seat in front of Spencer and you, the beautiful TA in question, hold a watch up as you move to the centre of the room. Class is starting. Class is starting and he’s hopeful the professor never actually shows up. 

He notices your watch is on your right wrist—are you left handed?—as you smile widely and clap her hands together. First day jitters seem to keep everyone silent, waiting on baited breath for you to start. Spencer would stay on baited breath for the rest of his life for you. You were utterly captivating after all—he could see the drool from several students’ mouths a few seats over. 

“This is Anthropology 101,” you announce. “If this isn’t your class, you’re free to leave. Or stay if you want. Did you guys know that anxiety disorders affect more than 40 million US adults? Or 1 in 5, I guess, if you want the easier pill to swallow.”

Spencer’s heart jumps into his throat and he wants to raise his hand just to ask you to marry him. 

“Anyway,” you sigh, leaning back agains the front desk, “I spit out a lot of facts. Usually something that begins with ‘did you know’ won’t be on the tests. I try to be fair. Which brings us to ice breakers.”

The class collectively groans. You scoff. 

“Oh hush, I’m the only one doing the ice breakers so chill out. Jeez.” Spencer waits patiently for your soft breath and then your further announcement of, “I’m officially Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, but that’s like only if my boss comes in or for any emails you send. You can call me Y/N because that’s like normal. I got my doctorate in forensic anthropology a year ago and I’ve been teaching since I started grad school three years ago. You’re in safe hands, I promise.”

He almost kicks himself. You’re the professor. How many times had he been nearly kicked out of a classroom when he was in grad school for saying he was the professor? How many times had he been 18 and trying to get an ounce of respect for himself? 

You continue, waving your hands about like you could pull your ideas back down to earth. “Um—a fun fact about me is that I am not welcome in certain parts of the world for ‘violating’ what are called exhumation laws, which is silly in my opinion. I had the legal right to carry that head on the plane and—and I hope you did the reading because there’s a first day pop quiz.”

The entire class lets out one simultaneous frustrated whine that alights something almost wicked in your eyes. You wave over two students from the other end of the front row and they begin passing out test papers as you explain. 

“You’ll have a total of fifteen minutes to answer ten questions. We’ll start on my mark. If you have any trouble, give me a shout and I’ll help you out. After this, we’ll go over the syllabus and if you’re lucky, leave early.”

Spencer’s passed a test and immediately notices there’s no place for a name. Just a bolded “Student #21” at the top. Another girl raises the question and you snicker. “I like puzzles,” is the only answer you give before the time starts. 

Question four: what are the top three songs you’ve been listening to? Please list.

Question six: why are you taking this class?

A: This is a requirement

B: I heard it was easy

C: I heard the professor was hot

D: I really enjoy anthropology! (liar)

Question nine: Creationism or Evolution?

Question ten: Quickly. If you were going to have dinner, would it be with Bill or Hillary Clinton?

Spencer can’t hide the grin he’s got the entire test. It’s all ridiculous get-to-know-you questions. He can tell what merit you’re getting out of them. There’s one judging study habits, one judging religion, feminism, politics—you’ve created her own little innocuous questionnaire. Spencer was sure the students would just think you were strange, but he saw the cleverness. 

Spencer also notices that once you notice him, you don’t stop noticing him. He wonders what you see. You’re so obviously profiling him that it hurts. Do you see the FBI agent? The scholar? The doctor? The drug addict? The man in a boy’s skin?

Your timer beeps and you shout for pencils down. Your makeshift TAs are dispatched to collect the papers and you make the stacks perfect when they make it to the desk. You move to the whiteboard, a set of papers clutched in your hand, and lean against it to address the class. 

“Test go alright?” your grin is contagious and Spencer can’t help but mirror it. You glance at Spencer, turns back to the class, and tuck your hair behind your ear. You let the class chatter on for a moment, setting the papers down on the table, and readjust the undone cuffs of your white button down. He never thought that a sweater vest and jeans could look so hot. 

You smirk and check your watch one more time. “Let’s talk about tests because I know you all have questions. Everything on the test is either written on the board, on the notes, or in the study guide—if you fail after that, come to office hours. I’ve got Advil for the hangovers.”

#

Thankfully, Joesph is one of those students who has to speak to every single one of his professors. Spencer waits patiently behind the kid, trying to keep the smell from the lack of deodorant just out of range. 

He keeps a hard gaze on all of the students moving in and out of the auditorium. There’s nothing to see, just a lot of students with a lot of normal college apathy. No anger, no serial killer, no one to tackle. 

“Sometimes the BO is worse than a corpse’s expulsion of gas,” you joke from your place atop the desk. Spencer looks up, and furrows his eyebrows as his brain processes. Your face falls for a split second, but your curiosity replaces it just as quickly. Joesph’s jaw hits the floor, stumbling for some way to explain himself or maybe some half decent way to insult the pretty professor. 

Spencer laughs, probably a little more than he should have, considering he wasn’t supposed to out himself as an FBI agent. You tuck your hair behind your ear again and, for someone younger than 25, you are surprisingly wide eyed with perception and curiosity. 

“Do you like puzzles, Doctor—“

“Reid,” he supplies, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. “Spencer.”

You raise an eyebrow, chewing on your bottom lip in contemplation. You turn your focus back to Joesph—a boy worse at talking to those scoring higher than an 8 than Spencer was at the same age. “So, Joesph, why does the good doctor need to be within tackling distance of you?”

Joesph flounders, turns to hide his blush, and yelps like God himself has come down to kick him in the ass. Spencer takes one good look at the 18 year old girl charging towards a pimple of a boy and he launches before he can give much consideration to how much its going to hurt. 

But between the noticing and the launching, he makes a list: she’s got so much black eyeliner that Emily’s high school yearbook photos would be jealous; she’s about to inflict about a 9 on the pain scale if she’s left to her plan; there’s obviously no plan other to scratch Joesph’s eyes out; her nails are the size of tiger claws and Spencer desperately wishes he had a better pain tolerance; there’s no weapon. 

The tackle takes seconds. It’s a practised movement. Roll. Knee. Handcuffs. The girl is screaming and crying and kicking and biting. His arm’s on fire and she’s struggling enough that it’s taking more than ten seconds to get the handcuffs on. 

It’s calculated as he presses his knee harder into her back. She yelps and stills long enough that Spencer closes the handcuffs on her tiny, sliced up wrists. The cutting explains some things…

“Hence the tackling distance,” You sum up, bending down just slightly to look the killer in the face. Your nose wrinkles. “You had very distinct ideas on the cultural value of suicide.”

Spencer shakes his head, hauls the girl to her feet, and beckons for Joesph to follow. The entire world falls out of view as he manhandles the girl into an easy walk. The students step to the side to gawk, and he’s thankful for the wide berth. If someone got hurt, the paperwork alone—

“It was nice meeting you, Dr. Reid!” you call and he glances back over his shoulder. You’re waving around the stack of papers in your arms, utterly ridiculous, terribly adorable. He hopes his smile is more suave than love sick, but the fleeting flirtation is especially over when Miss Unchecked Rage kicks out as Joesph comes into her line of sight. 

Spencer throws his whole weight into keeping her down. There’s no room to fall in love after a day. Especially with someone on a college campus halfway across the country from him. There’s even less room to manoeuvre Miss Eyeliner even without Joesph waddling into her eye line every few seconds. Seriously, he thinks, how hard is it to keep behind me?

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #reid #reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction

[americancowgirl19]

Her Soldier

Summary: Sam gets drafted for the Vietnam war a couple days after he turns 18. Right before he leaves, he meets you.

Warnings: Angst, death, fluff, small age gap (like 2/3 years), 

Reader: Female Reader

Pairings: Vietnam Soldier Sam Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 4,565

A/n: Based off the song ‘Travelin’ Soldier’ by Dixie Chicks.. I swear I almost cry every time I hear this song so hopefully I can make others cry

Masterlist

The café you worked at was dead. The only customer in the whole place is the old man at the bar sipping on his coffee rereading the newspaper for the hundredth time. You didn’t mind the old man lingering around. He’s sweet and just wants to be around people instead of his empty house. So, when he asks for a refill for the dozenth time you give it to him with a small smile and begin a short conversation with him.

When he returns to looking at his newspaper you begin wiping tables down. Nobody’s sat at them since the last time you wiped them down but it gave you something to do. 

As you reached the last table, the doorbell rang signaling someone coming in. You turned around to great them but the words die in your throat. The customer that had entered is a tall broad man dressed in an army uniform. He shed his hat and sets his bag down.

His eyes scan the place before falling on you. You’re taken back by the color in his eyes. They’re captivating along with the smile that spreads across his lips.

“Can I uh... Just sit anywhere?” He asks, fiddling with his cap in his hands. His question snaps you out of your daze.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” You nod quickly, a light blush coming to your cheeks. “Wherever you like,” You tell him. He nods to you before taking his bag and choosing a booth by the window. 

You take a deep breath, thankful his back is to you. You take a moment to calm yourself knowing it’s useless. The moment you regain his attention you’ll be a stuttering mess. 

You work in an old rundown café, not many attractive men come in. When they do come strolling in another waitress always snatches them before you do. Although, you don’t put up a fight seeing that you’re anxiety usually keeps you from actively approaching them. However, today you’re the only waitress.

“What, uh.. What can I get you?” You ask, thankful you didn’t stutter too much. He flashes you a smile, although you notice a been of nervousness in his posture. He shifts in his seats and gives you his order.

You bring him is water and leave him be. You wait by the bar for his food to finish cooking. You try not to stare but your gaze keeps falling on him. You watch his leg bounce under the table and how he shifts every few seconds. His head turns from looking outside to down at the table.

You felt bad for him. You knew what was going on in the world and you knew that where he was going is dangerous. You older brother had been drafted to the army. Plus, at night, you heard your parents talking to each other about all the bad stuff going on over seas.

“Order up!” The cook snaps, breaking you from your thoughts. You grab the plate and carry it to the handsome man.

“Here ya go,” You say, feeling even worse when he jumps. You give him a small smile setting the plate in front of him. “Enjoy,”

“Hey,” He says, quickly when you turn to walk away. You look at him, smiling a bit when he struggles to find his words. “Do you mind sitting with me?” He asks, shyly. “I could use someone to talk to,” He tells you, pressing his lips together. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t say no to him.

“I’m off in an hour,” You tell him. “If you have time, I know a place where we can go,”

“Perfect,” He nods, quickly.

The next hour dragged on. You refilled the old man’s coffee, you wiped the tables down, and you exchanged a couple of words with the guy in the booth. When you finally clocked out, you slipped your jacket on and walked outside with the handsome stranger.

“I’m Y/n, by the way,” You introduce yourself as you lead him down the sidewalk.

“Sam,” He introduces himself, holding his hand out. You shake it, enjoying the warmth of his skin. “So, where are you taking me?”

“The pier,” You tell him. “It’s where I like to go when I need to get my head straight or if I’m feeling a little low,” You explain.

When you get to the end of the pier, you both snag your favorite bench. He sets his bag beside him and looks out into the water.

“I turned 18 a couple days ago,” He mutters, looking down at his fidgeting fingers. “Day later and I get a draft notice,”

“My brother got drafted too,” You whisper. He glances at you, a small smile on his face.

“So, did mine,” Sam says. “He got drafted about 7 months ago... We knew I would be next but when it came it just... it felt surreal,” Sam looks back at the water. “I feel like I’m living a nightmare and I won’t ever wake up,” He whispers. 

You bite your lip when you hear the shakiness in his voice. Unable to help yourself, you reach over and grab his hand. He clings to it tightly. You shuffle closer to him and lay your head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry you have to go, Sam,” You whisper.

“Maybe I’ll see my brother,” He hopes optimistically. “We’re all each other has. My mom died when I was a baby and my dad was never around... It’s always just been me and him,”

“Well, when you come back, find me,” Sam turns his head to you. You lift your head off his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere, I’ll still be working at that café, I’ll be real easy to find,”

“If I come back,” Sam whispers.

“When,” You correct him. “When you and your brother come back, come to the café,” You order him. “I’ll make sure you both have a free meal,” Sam smiles, relaxing on the bench.

“When I come back,” Sam whispers, releasing a slow sigh. “As soon as I got that notice... I never thought of the possibility of coming back,”

“Well, now you have to,” You tell him. “Because if you don’t, you’re gonna make me real upset,” Sam smiles, laughing a bit. “We’re friends now, Sam. You’re stuck with me and that’s just how it’s going to be,”

“Is that so?” He asks, looking at you with a half grin.

“Exactly so,” You nod. The two of you didn’t say anything for a while. Eventually, you got tired of the silence and filled it with stories about your life. You told him about the school you went too only to find out that he had gone to your rival school. You talked about your parents and how they supported everything you and your brother did even when it was something beyond stupid. 

You learned that the two of you were nerds but different kinds. He loves to read and had wanted to go to college to become a lawyer while you were passionate about music and were currently in your high schools marching band. You told him how you weren’t sure if you wanted to become a professional musician or a teacher, perhaps you would try to become both.

The conversation flowed easily between the two of you. When you ran out of things to say he talked. He told you about all the trouble he and his brother, Dean, used to get into together. His stories mad you laugh and cry.

The both of you sat on the pier for what seemed like hours. You had sat down together as strangers yet at this point you couldn’t imagine not being his friend. You hated that he had to go into the army because now you couldn’t spend more time with him.

Sitting next to him, hearing him laugh and talk, you knew if he were to stick around you would fall hopelessly in love with him. He’s beyond attractive but on top of that he’s sassy and so very smart and kind. You loved listening to him and you couldn’t help but wish you could take all his pain away. You wished you could take his fear away and protect him from the world but you just couldn’t. You felt useless but at least you were able to get him to relax before the army bus comes to pick up the recruits.

As the day passed on you noticed more army men coming to the area. You both knew that it meant the bus would be arriving soon. You both knew Sam would have to leave and you didn’t want him too.

“I should go wait with the others,” Sam mutters, looking at the group of soldiers gathering together. You frown but release his hand. He stands and slings his bag over his shoulder. He bites his lip obviously wanting to say something but looks hesitant.

“What is it, Sam?” You ask. You’re barely able to finish your question before he’s spitting out whatever he wants to say. 

“Look, I know you probably have a boyfriend, but I don’t care,” Sam shakes his head, turning toward you. “I’ve got no one to send letters to, would you mind if I sent some back here to you?”

“I was hoping you would,” You smile at him. You push yourself off of the bench and pull him into a tight hug. “I expect letters as often as you can,” Sam smiles, tightening his arms around you.

“I’m gonna need your address,” He mutters. You grin pulling away from him. Your eyes glance behind him and you instantly smile.

“I’ve got an idea, come on,” You grab his hand and yank him down the pier. He laughs, following you willingly.

“Really?” Sam asks, noticing where you’re pulling him.

“Oh, come on!” You beg him. “It’ll be fun,” You turn to him and wink. He rolls his eyes but nods. You pull him into the photo booth. He sits on the seat and steers you onto his lap when you go to sit down. He grins as you blush. “Smile,” You whisper, turning to the camera.

There’s a flash as the picture is taken. Only problem is that in the corner of your eye you notice Sam still looking at you. You turn your head to him, your arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“You’re supposed to look at the camera,” You whisper.

“I’d rather look at you,” He whispers back. You nibble at your lip, a blush painting your cheeks as another flash brightens the booth. “You’re beautiful,” He mutters.

“You just had to walk into my café when you’re about to leave didn’t you?” You pout. His hand comes up to caress your cheek just as the flash comes again.

“I’m sorry, I’ve never been good at timing,” Sam whispers.

“I don’t have one,” You whisper to him. He frowns his eyebrows and tilts his head. Gathering up your courage, you press your forehead against his. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” Sam smiles a bit.

“I’m gonna have to take you out when I get back,” He whispers. You smile at his word choice. You close your eyes, resting your other hand on his chest as the final flash comes.

“Come back, Sam,” You whisper, your eyes opening to look into his. Sam closes his eyes, clenching his jaw. “Please come back, Sam,” You whisper to him.

“I’ll try,” He whispers back. You want to demand that he promises to return but you don’t. Your head moves to his shoulder as you hug him tightly. When the two of you finally slide out of the booth, you pick up the photos. You reach into your pocket and pull our a pen.

“My address,” You said writing it on a couple of them. You slip the first picture into your pocket and let him keep the other three.

“I have to go,” He whispers, seeing the bus coming to pick up the soldiers. You sigh slowly and pull him into another hug. “Thank you,” He murmurs. “For staying with me,”

“It was my pleasure,” You smile up at him. The two of you pull away. You stay still, watching him walk away. He only gets about five steps away before he stop and turns back to you. You smile widely when he come strutting back. He extends his arm and cups your cheek.

“Can I...?” He whispers and you just nod. He grins, lowering his head to yours. You lean into him as your lips press against each other lightly. 

“I really wish you would have found me sooner,” You whisper. He smiles hugging you tighter than before.

“I’ll come back and I’ll take you on a date and we’ll do this the proper way,” He promises, pulling from you.

“I don’t care how we do this as long as you come back to figure it out with me,” You tell him. He clicks his heels together and gives you a salute.

“Yes, ma’am,” He winks at you. You blush smiling at him. “I’ll be back before you know it,” He promises before forcing himself to go to the back to the bus. You force yourself to smile and wave as the bus drives away with him and a dozen other soldiers on it.

His first letter came about a week later. He talked about his training and the other guys he’s bunking with. He talks about what they plan to do with his group in the future. Then he asks about you and your day. Your favorite part is when he mentions about how much he wants to come back home and go back to that pier with you.

The instant your done reading the letter, you pull out paper to write one to him. You talk about mundane things. Things that will hopefully distract him from the world he was forced into, even if it’s just for the few minutes he reads the letter.

Towards the end of your letter you tell him that you miss him. You talk about the possible dates the two of you could go on. You tell him that you look forward to him coming home.

For the next few months, the letters between you two are frequent. You learn more about each other. Every day you find yourself racing for the mailbox hoping that he had sent a letter.

“Who have you been sending letters too?” Your mom asks you one afternoon. You were going to lie and say your brother but she would know it would be a lie. While you and your brother are close you don’t get as excited for his letters as you do Sam’s. 

“I met someone a couple of months ago,” You tell her. She arches an eyebrow. “He came by work before getting on the army bus.. I talked to him for a while before he had to leave. He asked me if he could send letters, he doesn’t have anyone else to talk to,”

“Oh?” She says. “And how is this man?”

“His names Sam,” A wide, effortless smile comes across your lips. “He was drafted a couple days after he turned 18,”

“He’s 18?” She asks. You slowly nod. “You’re only 16,” She states.

“So?”

“So, isn’t he a little old for you?”

“It’s only two years mom,”

“Yeah and you’re barely a junior in high school and he’s going off to a very ugly war,”

“I don’t think any war is pretty,”

“Y/n,” Your mother states. 

“He has no one else, mom,” You tell her. “I’m just talking to him, giving him someone to come home too -”

“Someone to come home to? Are you two dating or something?”

“No, not yet at least...” You mutter. She sighs, rubbing her face.

“You barely know him,” She tells you.

“We’re learning about each other, what’s the big deal?” You ask. “Nothing bad is going to happen,”

“He’s going to war, Y/n... He might not come back,”

“He will,” You snap. “And when he does, I’m going to be there for him.”

“You’re only 16, Y/n... You’re too young to be waiting for a soldier to come home, you’re too young to be worrying about stuff like that,” She tells you.

“It doesn’t matter if I’m too young, I’m waiting for him and I’m going to worry about him no matter what you say or what you think. Sam, needs someone and I’m gonna be that person,” You state before going up to your room.

While that’s the first argument over Sam, it’s not the last. Neither of your parents liked the fact that you were mailing and receiving letters. You were too young. You didn’t understand the world. You need to focus on your future. You heard all that and more. 

Word spread and your entire family soon knew about Sam. None of them were on your side but you didn’t care. You still looked forward to hearing him from him and you didn’t let anyone stop you from replying.

The closer time got to him being shipped over seas, the darker the letters became. Sam was scared. He’s terrified and it showed in his letters. He spoke on and on about the fears of war. He talks about how he would pray to be sent back home, back to you instead.

He tells you about how he lays in bed, staring at the photos of you two, and imagine life back home with you. He imagines holding you, kissing you, and falling in love with you.

You reread the letter a hundred times, a shit eating grin on your face. He was practically confessing to you about falling in love and you couldn’t help but to reciprocate the feelings.

When you went to reply to him, you couldn’t find the right words. You wanted to give him something to look forward to. You wanted to give him a little ray of sunlight in the darkness surrounding him.

When you finally started to write, you couldn’t stop. You made sure that he would have no doubt that you felt the same way, if not more, for him. You promised him that you would be waiting for him to come home to you and that when he did, you’d be all his.

You knew your parents thought you were crazy for falling in love with someone you only met once and talked to through letters. Did you care? No. You fell for Sam, you fell hard. 

You found yourself laying in your bed at night, staring at the one picture you have of him. The picture of you staring at the came, a wide smile on your face, while he’s staring at you, a gentle grin on his. You didn’t want to read too into things but you wondered if you believed in love at first sight. Every time you thought about it, you’d smile a little wider.

Eventually another letter from Sam came. It was the last letter he wrote before being shipped over seas. By the time it reaching your house, you knew he was no longer in the U.S. He told you not to worry, he told you he might not be able to write for a while. He told you he loved you and he’d do anything to come back.

You wrote back to him, begging him to be safe. You promised you’d still wait for him. You told him that you’d be here to welcome him back to America. You told him you loved him.

Even though you looked for his letters every day, they came sporadically. He stayed true to his word and wrote whenever he could, it just wasn’t often. He didn’t go into details about the war but you knew it was horrible. Even after being over there for almost a year, he was still scared and wanted to come home. You didn’t blame him, you wanted him home too.

He wrote about how his platoon came across another one. You smile as you read about the fact that he and his brother were reunited. You couldn’t help but feel relief as you read his own words of relief over the fact that his brother’s still alive.

Towards the end he talks about how when it gets rough, he thinks back to the day the two of you sat at the pier. He explains how he closes his eyes and imagines your smile. He yearns for another kiss, another hug. He wishes he could just be with you.

You reply to him and assure him that his wishes are the same as yours. You wish for him to come home safe. You promise that even though it’s been over a year since you last saw him, you still love him and that you’re still waiting for him. You promise to wait forever as long as he returns to you. 

You tell him about how that day at the pier has become your favorite. You promise to recreate that day with him when he returns only you make sure he knows that you won’t let him leave next time.

After you sent the letter, you wait for his reply. A few weeks pass then a month with no word from him. You try not to worry because it’s not the longest he’s gone without sending word. You know how hard it is for him over there. Even though he hasn’t sent you a letter, you continue to send some to him. You pray every night that when you wake up there will be a letter from him.

“Hey, Y/n, are you alright?” Your best friend asks. “You seem a little distracted?”

You were. You were completely distracted. It’s Friday night, you’re in your marching band uniform at the football game. You love football games and you’re usually the most pumped in the bad. Only tonight you’re quiet. It’s been three months since you last hard from Sam.

“I’m fine,” You promise her. “I just haven’t been getting sleep lately,” 

Your friend accepts your answer and doesn’t force you to explain or talk. You’re thankful. You stand with the others and slip out the picture of Sam. You keep the picture close to your chest. You completely ignore yourself and just focus on Sam. Oh, what you wouldn’t give to see that smile in real life. What you wouldn’t give to simply hold his hand, to hear his laugh and be beside him.

When it got closer to kick off, a prayer was said before the band was instructed to play the national anthem. When the last note was ended, a man came over the speakers again. Everyone in the sands practically froze.

“Folks, would you bow your heads,” The man spoke to the crowd. “For a list of local Vietnam dead,”

This isn’t the first time the schools done this. It’s their way to honor the lives lost. Every time they do it, you feel like you’re going to be sick. Your heart races in your chest. You feel like you’re going to pass out as he goes down the list.

“... Benny Lafitte... Sam Winchester... Adam Milligan...” He continues to read off the list but you don’t listen. All the sound around you just dies.

Sam Winchester

Sam Winchester

Sam Winchester

Sam Winchester

Before you know it, your pushing through the crowd and hiding under the bleachers. Nobody gives pays any attention to you. You’re ignored but you couldn’t care less.

You collapse to your knees and wrap your arms around yourself. You’re trying so hard to be quiet but a sob escapes your lips. You want to scream, you want to punch at the ground, you want to just lose yourself in your grief.

All you can think about is his dorky smile as he gives you a salute before walking on the bus. All you can think about is how you should have begged him to stay with you.

“I’ll be back before you know it,”

 His words repeat in your head which only causes you to cry even harder. You rock slowly on the grass. You want to disappear, you want to home and cry yourself to sleep.

Slowly, you pull the picture that’s clutched to your chest back. You sniffle, your eyes glued on Sam. You bring the picture to your lips and kiss him softly. You leave the picture against your lips, your eyes shut tightly as tears continue to seep through them.

“Sammy...” You whimper. “Oh, my Sammy,” You cry, curling into yourself again. “I love you so much,”

Bonas

You’re working at the café. You refilling the old mans coffee and preparing to wipe down tables. You force a smile at the old man before walking away from him. The doorbell rings when you grab a rag.

“Go ahead and sit -” Your words die in your throat when you see who’s standing at the door. You’ve never met this man but you know exactly who it is.

“Uh, hi,” He says, slowly walking up to you. “I’m Dean,”

“I know,” You whisper, offering a small smile. You hated it but seeing him brought tears to your eyes. It’s been six months since Sam was read off the fallen soldiers list. You were still struggling with the fact that he’s no longer coming home.

“Sammy talked about you all the time, couldn’t get him to shut up,” Dean laughs a bit. You bite your lip knowing this was hard for him. “You meant a lot to him,”

“He meant a lot to me,” You whisper, a tear falling down your cheek.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t bring him home to you,” Dean chokes up. “God he wanted to come home to you,” Your feet move before you realize that you’re walking up to him. The two of you instantly bring the other into a tight hug. When you pull away, he reaches into his pocket and gives you a warn and torn letter. “He asked me to give this to you,” You’re breath hitches when you see red smears on the paper.

“Th-thank you,” You whimper.

“Yeah...” He mutters before backing away. His movement snaps you out of your daze.

“Hey, Dean?” He hums, wiping his eyes. “Don’t be a stranger,” You smile at him. “I know you don’t know me but you’re family... If you ever need anything, I’ll be around,” Dean smiles and slowly nods.

“I’ll see you,” He whispers before walking out of the café.

The instant he’s gone, you walk straight to the bathroom. You cry, barely holding in the sobs. A few minutes later, you pull yourself together long enough to look at the letter.

You can barely read the shaky hand writing but his words bring fresh tears to his eyes. You could tell that he had written this the day before he died. He talked about how scared he was, how he didn’t know if he’d be able to come home. He promised he would do everything in his power to be with you but in case he couldn’t he wanted you to know just how much he loved you. He promised that if tomorrow is to be his last day then his final thoughts will be of the two of you sitting at the pier. 

#Sam Winchester #Winchester #Supernatural #spn #Dean Winchester #X female reader #x Fem!reader #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam x female!reader #x female!reader #Vietnam #song #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #letter #dixie chicks

[takara-kaneko]

I know I request a lot now so take your time. It could you do a part 2 to the mc leaving one? Good or bad doesnt matter, just some closure about if they’re capable of changing and get mc back? Maybe building up mcs confidence again bc now they’re hesitant to start planning parties again.

Surprisingly, I’m still here! Pandemic life has been really getting to me, haha, but I am still here! I’ve been working on this fic for a while, and it has become much larger than I had first anticipated, but I hope that you enjoy it nonetheless!  If you haven’t read the first story, then click Here!! 

Let Me Go Part 2 (Good End) 

Zen 🎭

He was in his dressing room, changing out of the costume of his most recent character. The performance was a success, and he had been receiving so many compliments by the audience and the cast alike. But he didn’t really feel happy. Hell, he hadn’t been happy for a long time now. Not since MC left. 

Without thinking, he pulled out his phone and unlocked it. Staring at back him was her contact photo, with an empty text bar below. Zen had written up so many drafts, each giving a different apology, and each begging for forgiveness. But he never sent them to her. Not until everything within the RFA was fixed; not until he had fixed everything. 

It has taken some hard work, but he was finally believing that things were the way they should be. The RFA was making strides coping with their loss of Rika. Many, himself included, were really starting to move on. Maybe it was time for him to message. 

With bated breath, he began typing. “I don’t know if this is too late, but I’m sorry. For everything. I don’t expect your forgiveness, nor do I deserve it… I’m just… trying to repair what I’ve done. I’m trying to fix me. MC, I love you, more than I can express in a text. I hope you know that.”

His finger hovered over the ‘send’ button. It had been months, did she really want to get something from him now? Would she even care, or has she already gotten over him? Zen shook his head, trying to ignore his thoughts. With nothing to lose, he sent it. As it was delivered, he heard a chime from outside his door, followed by a soft curse.

Curious, Zen approached the door and opened it. There was no one in front of him, but as he looked out, he saw a figure walking away from him. A figure that had haunted his thoughts and riddled his dreams. Zen stepped forward a few steps and reached out to her, a painful expression painting his face. 

“MC! MC, wait...” 

She stopped but doesn’t turn back to him. “I watched the show…” He strained to hear her, she was almost whispering, “You were really good, Zen.” 

Zen had to restrain himself from approaching her. From wrapping her in his arms and refuse to let her go ever again. But he couldn’t do that to her, she had every right to leave him and never return.

“I didn’t know you were going to watch it. I could’ve gotten you tickets.” He didn’t really know what to say. He was being awkward, Zen knew he was, but so long as she continued to talk to him, he couldn’t ask for anything more. 

MC still didn’t move, almost frozen where she stood. “I didn’t know I was either. A friend of mine got tickets and she didn’t tell me where we were going until I saw you on stage. And I…” Turning her head towards him, he could see the tears falling from her eyes. “...I realized how much I’ve really missed you, Hyun.” 

There wasn’t even a moment to think before Zen was in front of her, wiping away the tears on MC’s face. “Jagi, please don’t cry, I don’t deserve your tears. I’m the one who caused you to leave.” 

He wrapped his arms around her, burying his head in the crook of her neck. If she was really going to be out of his life, he wanted one last memory of her. Her scent, the feeling of her on his skin. Anything he could, he wanted to remember. 

“I’m so sorry, MC… I’m so sorry.” A sob escaped Zen as he stood there, gripping the love of his life. 

“Did you mean it?” She whispered into his chest, “Your text, do you really mean what you wrote?” 

Zen stopped a moment. Did she really not think that he would change everything if it would give him a chance to get her back? “Baby, of course, I do. I would do anything, anything, if it meant that you would still be here.” 

MC sniffled a bit before taking a few steps back. More than anything, Zen wanted to hold on, wanted to have her stay and be with him. But it was her choice, and he refused to take that away from her. As he released her, Zen clenched his jaw to restrain his want to grab her hand. 

She looked up at him, her lip quivering. “I can’t… I can’t just come back like nothing ever happened.” 

 Zen nodded. Yes, he knew that this would be the answer. After all, he didn’t deserve her, even for the time he actually had her. To get MC back was just- 

“We have to start over.”  She declared, pulling Zen out from his own thoughts in a flash, “From the beginning. I need to know that this is real, not something you’ll say to get me back and it goes back to the way it was before. I can’t do that again and I-”

MC’s words are cut short by the feeling of Zen’s hand caressing her face. He looked at her, with nothing but pure euphoria. “For you to be in my life, even if it’s just as friends, I’ll do whatever you need me to. If you want to restart, I’ll just...” 

 Taking a few steps back, he reached out his hand for a handshake, “Hi, my name is Hyun Ryu, stage name Zen. And I am hopelessly in love with you.”

Trying to fight back the tears, she reached up and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, I’m MC. And I have missed you every second you have been out of my life.” 

Yoosung ⭐️

These past few months had been a really rough time for Yoosung. Not only having to deal with the regular stresses of his life, but he also had no idea how to do it without depending on someone as capable as MC. 

He had decided to focus entirely on school, even considered dropping out of the RFA, but at their refusal, he explained what happened. The weight of their actions dawned on them. The whole group pledged to work on this mistake, without much pushing from Yoosung. They all seemed to miss MC, even if it isn’t as much as Yoosung did. 

But with the RFA making steady progress, Yoosung decided to get a hold on his life, passing all of his courses this year with flying colors. 

Part of him wanted to call MC, tell her all the good things he accomplished in his strides to become better, but with only time he’s heard from her was the reply to the text he sent the night she left; he didn’t feel he deserved to talk to MC. He didn’t want to bother her. She likely never wanted to see him again, and he couldn’t blame her. 

 But with finals finally done, Yoosung felt like it was time to reward himself for his success. There was a limited time expansion for LOLOL and Yoosung had just saved enough to get it. He went into the game store, excited to finally get to play it. 

Getting in line, he couldn’t help but stare at the hair of the woman in front of him. If he didn’t know better, he probably would’ve thought that it was MC-

Wait. Was that MC? She had the same beautiful locks, the same frame, but it was hard to tell from the baggy sweatshirt she had on. He stood, awkwardly staring at the girl in front of him, trying to build up the nerve to just poke, maybe brush into her so she’d turn around?   

No, no that was stupid… What if it was her, what then?  ‘Oh hey MC, nice to see you again? I haven’t been a happy a single moment since you left; I need you in my life.’ Yeah, Yoosung tells himself, that’s a horrible plan. If it was her, she probably wouldn’t want to see him, anyway. 

He pulls out his phone to look at her last text, “And my heart to you, Star.” Sure, she said that, but did he actually deserve that? Wasn’t what he put her through enough?  But even so… he wanted to see her, even just once. He glanced back down at his phone, at her ring that has become his keychain and made up his mind. 

“Hey, sunshine.” He said, enough for the girl in front him, but not loud enough that it was directed toward her. He watched as she flinched, dropping her phone in the process. 

Yoosung went for it, apologizing as he did. Picking up the phone, he freezes. On the lock screen was of him, happily hugging the love of his life. He remembered that photo, it was the first time MC told him that she loved him. It was one of the happiest moments in Yoosung's life. 

A pair of hands met his, taking the phone. Yoosung almost tried to keep the phone to keep looking at the photo, but it’s not his phone, so he let the other hands take it. Standing back up, he was face to face with MC. 

Status: Frozen

Yoosung had no idea what he was supposed to do. Should he talk? Wave? Maybe just ignore her…? What? no! Swallowing thickly, Yoosung stuck his hand out to wave at her. 

‘I’m such an idiot’ Flashed through his head, but he had to push past it. 

“Hey, Sunshine. You… you look really good.” 

She looked down at her sweatshirt and baggy pants and laughed softly, “I haven’t taken a shower in two days, I needed to get to a high enough level to be able to play the DLC. I don’t have you to carry me through those high-level missions anymore…” MC trails off, looking away from him.

“Are you kidding?” Yoosung said, surprised, "You were much better than me when I started. You’ll be one of the top members on the server in no time! You’re already at ranking 137, that’s incredible to only have been playing for a few months!”

At his words, MC’s eyes widened. Yoosung realized how weird his statement must’ve been. Who keeps track of their ex-girlfriend’s gaming status? Him, definitely. There were times Yoosung wanted to offer her the legendary gear he had collected, but could never build up enough courage. 

Clutching a strand of her hair, MC sucked in a breath, “Well… How have you been? Classes going well?” 

Yoosung nodded shyly, now embarrassed and not sure what to say with her finally in front of him, “Yeah, Finally passed with some of the top grades in my class! Your study guides really helped me out, though I missed working with you on them.” 

“Well, you seem to be getting along fine, so you can’t be missing much.” 

With furrowed brows, Yoosung caught MC's hand as she was about to turn away, “MC… I have been doing these things for you. For how much you pushed me and supported me. For me to fail when you left, would be the ultimate proof that I never should have had you in the first place.” 

MC opened her mouth to speak, but Yoosung persisted, not allowing her to say something that couldn’t be more wrong, “You think I’ve just moved on, but I still haven’t, I swear that to you. Instead, I’m trying to be someone you’d be proud of. Improving my grades, becoming more independent. Even the RFA is trying to change to make it more welcoming to you, if you’d ever think about coming back to me-  us. Come back to us.” 

There was so much more he wanted to say, needed to say. But just as he opened his mouth to speak- 

“Miss, you’re next.” The cashier said, gesturing to MC. Hesitantly, MC released her hand from his grasp and left him alone. He watched as she conversed lightly with the attendant checking out her game. With a smile, he returned her change and a bag with the game inside. Yoosung reached out to talk to her again, but the man calling him caught him off guard. He glanced over towards the man, then back to MC, only to see she was gone. 

With a heavy heart, he reached the man and bought his game, not even reciprocating the attendant’s excited comments about the DLC. Exiting the store, Yoosung was trying not to cry. (He needed to get back home before that happened) So as he went through the door, he didn’t see the figure standing beside it until they had grabbed the back of his shirt. But he was sad, he was angry, he was ready to throw down. Imagine his surprise when he turned, fists formed, only to be face-to-face with MC once again. 

“Sorry to scare you!”  She squeaked, putting her hands up in surrender. 

The sadness in his heart immediately changed to relief as he looked into her serene eyes. Everything was right with the world once again. 

 MC stood there, mustering up the courage to ask the one thing has had been wanting to say since the beginning of their conversation. “I was uh, just wondering if you would like to… You don’t have to say yes, but I’d like you to.”

Even though nothing was actually explained, Yoosung still had a slight idea of what she was trying to say, “I’d love to work together to beat the next few levels with you, MC. Superman Yoosung is always here for Eternal Sunshine MC.” 

She nodded at him, tears beginning to prick the corners of her eyes “I think I’d really like that.” 

Jumin 🍷

“Just reporting: Has the famous CEO bachelor finally found his date to the upcoming charity ball?” 

With a sigh, Jumin turned off his smartphone. Despite their engagement was never announced publicly, reporters everywhere were trying to pin down who was the 'next woman' to be Jumin’s girl now that he was seemingly single. What they never accounted for was that he had no other plans. MC was the only woman he believed could ever understand him. And in these few months, that point became even more airtight. Not even his father truly understood the pain he was going through. He found himself wanting nothing more than to just work and stay home, avoiding everyone. 

But he did have to go to this charity ball. He had made a large donation, albeit in the company’s name, to the organization. After all, it was one that MC supported the most. It meant the world to her, so he’d give it as much support as he could. 

Jumin exited the limo and easily ignored the flashing lights of the cameras around him. Ignored the passing questions and remarks from the reporters. All but one. 

“Have you finally found a replacement for your ex-girlfriend?” 

It took all he had not to turn back to the reporter. MC could never just be replaced. There was no one in the world like her. So with gritted teeth, he entered into the building. 

For Jumin, entering the room immediately calmed his nerves. Looking around the scenery was like a breath of fresh air when such a feeling was so foreign to him recently. He couldn’t spot anything in particular that could make him feel that way, but the whole place just felt so comfortable. 

Glancing at the people, however, there was someone that stuck out among the rest. A woman in a sleek, black dress, carrying a glass of champagne as she laughed with the man across from her. Anger flared in the back of his mind as he watched the smile that graced her slender face. As the man touched the soft skin on her hand. No one should touch his MC- 

But she wasn’t his anymore, was she? And he no longer had a say on who she talked to, not that she would have completely listened to him anyways. 

Even as he was thinking this, Jumin found himself nearing them. Seems his subconscious was wanting to see her once more. Wanting to get that man’s hand off of her. But would she even want to see him? 

Not stepping any further, he began watching her again, trying to commit every feature to memory. But she caught his eyes for a moment before turning back to the target of her conversation. With a small handshake, she turned and headed towards him. 

Unprepared for this conversation, he picked up a glass of champagne from a tray passing him by and drank at least half of the liquid in one gulp. He noted the smile on her face as he did it, which he found interesting. But there was no time to think about it as MC was already on him before he knew it. “Jumin, it’s a pleasure to see you could make it out here. I take you were the one behind C&R’s large monetary donation?” 

Jumin was still frozen, unsure of what to say. She seemed happy. And she was the one to come to him, not the other way around. Surely she actually wanted to speak to him or she wouldn’t have come to him, right? He coughed lightly and looked into her eyes, “Yes, I remember you speaking so highly about this charity, so when the opportunity arose, I made sure to contribute. The RFA’s funding should be coming here too from the most recent party, as well.” 

“Yes, I’m aware,” MC nodded, gesturing vaguely behind her, “I spoke to V a moment ago, he came to represent the RFA.” Puzzled, he looked at her with a curious expression. MC understood and smiled, “I’m now one of the leading positions within the organization. I’m their event coordinator, so I get the list of attendants, as well as how much they donated. Both C&R and the RFA’s were very generous, I must thank you.” 

While it was unexpected, Jumin wasn't surprised. MC was very talented and capable of greatness. He smiled at her, and nodded slowly, “I’m glad to see you’re still making a name for yourself, MC. You’re a talented woman, they are very lucky to have you here.” 

A blush spread across her face at his words. She looked down at the ground for a moment before gazing back at Jumin. There was so much he wanted to say, but here and now wasn’t the right time. He leaned in closer to her, his breath brushing past her ear, “May I speak with you a moment?”   

She nodded slowly and followed him to the corner of the room, away from the crowd. Not that he truly noticed them in the beginning, as everything else seemed to fade away when he is with her. But in their isolation, he could feel his heart swell. Jumin wanted to hold her hand, kiss her, tell her how much he missed her, and loved her. How much he prayed she would come back. But none of that actually came out, all he could do was close the distance between them and wrap his arms around her affectionately. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes as he held her against him. 

Jumin shakily sighed as her hands gripped the fabric of his suit, “Oh, how I’ve missed you…” 

In a quick motion, she pulled away from him, but only enough to look at him with a scrutinizing gaze, “You actually missed me?” 

“Without a doubt, I have longed for you every moment you were away. Did you think otherwise?” He looked at her, feeling a mix of curiosity and worry. 

MC shook her head, her smile falling as confusion began to cover her expression, “If you missed me, why haven’t you tried to bring me back? A message, a call… anything? You’ve been silent this whole time… Even V talks to me more than you do and we both know how hard he is to get in touch with.” 

Sliding his hands down to hold her hand, Jumin tried to put his thoughts into words. “Because I don’t deserve you. You were perfect and I was… flawed. All of us were. I didn’t want you to be brought down because of us. You had left for a good reason." 

“Jumin,” She said softly, “I am far from perfect. I left you instead of trying to work with you on it. And when you never called... I thought you hated me-“ 

Without wasting a moment, Jumin leaned in to connect his lips with hers, cutting off her next words. Hate her? He never once held the smallest amount of anger towards her, the thought of it was revolting. Separating their lips just enough for him to speak, he leaned against her forehead,  “I could never hate the woman I’m hopelessly in love with.” 

She closed the distance between them, sealing the two in another kiss. They embraced in the corner of the room and began to dance before the music even began to play. 

Saeyoung 🚧

Every day was just like the last. Get up, work, finish the job, sleep. The only variation was when Vanderwood would show up in the day. Ever since MC left, he had been coming over more often, complaining that he had to clean up after him more now that MC wasn’t there anymore. 

Though it was really to make sure that he was okay and to force him to eat.

And he was right. Once she left, Seayoung fell right back into his bad habits. Not eating, barely ever sleeping. He was nothing more than a slave with survival as his only goal. To live long enough to see those he loved living a happy life without him. 

But it was odd, he wasn’t able to track MC here recently. She was on the CCTV still, trying to talk to him through it ignoring the strange looks she got for shouting and gesturing at a surveillance camera. But in the world of binary numbers, it was almost like she turned into a ghost. 

With a sigh, Saeyoung turned on his system to continue working on his newest assignment. Maybe it was a good thing, to never be able to see her. Then he’d never be reminded of all the reasons he should never have made her leave.

 `ALERT: VIRUS DETECTED` 

The words covered the page. Not knowing what had happened, he knew one thing. He had been hacked.

Saeyoung froze.  How did… it wasn’t possible. With crossed brows, he began trying to get around the evident hacking that had infiltrated his servers. All the information he had on this comp- 

“Oh, no... God, please... No.” He muttered, remembering all of the photos he had of his brother and of MC. If his ineptitude put either of them at risk, he could never forgive himself. 

But as he broke deeper and deeper through the firewalls that were placed, he noticed that the hacker had a lock on everything but the photos of them. It didn’t make sense, but it was almost completely untouched.

As he clicked the folder, their photos appeared on screen, untouched, perfect. Except, there was one addition, a video with a black screen. 

 Holding his breath, Saeyoung opens the video. It shows a blank screen for the longest time until a simple 6 words appeared. 

 “CAN’T AVOID ME FOREVER! LOVE, 606” 

As his mind began processing the words on the screen, Vanderwood entered the room. For a moment, Saeyoung was worried he’d yell at him for the state of his computer, but his partner only looked at him with a knowing grin. 

“MC said that you can either spend two hours unlocking your computer or come into the living room to talk with her for ten minutes.” He stated, trying not to look as amused as he really was. 

 With a sigh, he looked away from Vanderwood, "There really is no way around this, is there?” His friend didn’t reply, only shook his head. Saeyoung stood up, sticking his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and walked out of his room.

There she was. 

Just a few feet away. 

His heart broke just seeing her beautiful face and wanted nothing more than to go to her and apologize for all that he’s done. But he didn’t. Instead, Saeyoung walked passed her and sits across the room, as far as possible. Without a word. “You’ll release my computer?” He asked coldly, staring at the ground beneath her seat. 

MC nodded, before realizing he wasn’t looking at her. Chuckling lightly, she couldn’t help nodding again, “Yes, I will. You know me, I stick to my word. Other than the hour statement I told Vanderwood, it would’ve taken longer. But if you had chosen the hard route, you would’ve realized how much harder it really was after two hours went by and come out anyway.” 

Withholding the want to look at her, Saeyoung ran his hand through his hair. “How did you manage to get into so much of my software without my noticing?”

“When I left, I had wondered if you really didn’t know what you were doing, or if you were just pushing me away again.” She sighed, taking a moment before continuing, “So I hacked in far enough to see your code, and then set up a virus to the video input of your computer. Then I spoke to the CCTV and waited. 15 seconds. That was all it took until you opened it to see me speaking. And as long as that was up, my virus got through. I really didn’t think it would actually work, so it was really helpful you would only focus on me when the videos were up. I suppose I should thank you for that.” 

He could hear Vanderwood laughing from the kitchen, but decided to ignore it. “Why? Why interfere in my work?” 

His sharp tone cut into MC, but she only smiled at his harshness. “Because I wanted to see you, Sae.” 

She.. what? He had outcasted her, tore her down, and made her feel worthless. And she wanted to see him? Saeyoung was at a loss for words. It took a moment for him to speak again. 

“There’s no reason for you to see me again. I don’t have closure or anything for you. You’re better off-“ 

“That’s not what I want.” She interrupted. Taking the moment of silence between then, she stood up and approached Saeyoung, sitting next to him. 

He wouldn’t look at her. He couldn’t. One glance and he knew all of his walls would break. 

“Then what do you want?” 

She placed her hand on top of his, trying not to lose her composure as he moved his hand away from hers. “I want to be with you again.” 

Saeyoung couldn’t help the scoff that came out of his mouth. “I thought you made it pretty clear you didn’t. Isn’t that why you left?” 

While every word he spoke felt like a dagger in his heart, his face remains stoic. “I needed time. And I got that. This was never a permanent deal unless *you* make it one. 

“Then consider this our official breakup. Clean my computer and leave.” 

MC turned her head away from him for a moment, no doubt to wipe away her tears again. “I don’t believe it.” 

“Well, it’s true!” He shouted. “I don’t care about you, now leave me alone!” 

As she goes to refute his words, nothing but a small whimper came out. She placed her hand on his once again, not allowing it to get out of her grasp. With tears in her eyes and a reforged determination, she stared at the man she loves. “Then look me in the eyes and tell me that. Tell me you don’t feel an ounce of feelings for me, and I’ll leave.” 

The quivering of her voice ripped through him in ways that bullets never could. But if he didn’t do it, she would be dragged down with him. Gripping his hoodie tightly, he lifted his eyes to reach hers. To tell her one last time to leave him and go live the life she was meant to live. 

But as he stared at her tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes, the words he wanted to say disappeared, and Saeyoung began to do the one thing he didn’t want to do- speak from the heart. 

“I never want you to cry, MC. Don’t you see that… That you’ll be hurt by staying with me, and you’ll cry. And I can't take seeing you like that. I can’t tell you I don’t care, but I will ask you to leave, one last time.” 

Unable to look anymore, he dropped his eyes, staring at their conjoined hands until something lightly touched his forehead. Feeling her lips on his skin sent shudders down his body as tears formed in his eyes. 

“I have cried more time since I left this house than I would have in a lifetime by your side. My love, nothing hurts worse than being apart from you.” She could only whisper, the sounds getting stuck in her throat. “Please, Sae, please let me back in.” 

 Saeyoung looked back up, into MC's red-rimmed eyes. How could he ever refuse her? With a simple nod of his head, Saeyoung reached for her, clutching her tightly in a breathtaking hug. And MC’s hold was just as strong. 

Maybe he was wrong. Could this time be the good route, the one where he can actually be happy? Saeyoung didn’t know, but with the feeling of MC in his arms, he doesn’t see how life could get any better. 

.  .  . 

After hearing the conversation, Vanderwood stood awkwardly in the kitchen, wondering when it’s would be okay for him to come back out.

I really hope that you guys enjoyed it! It was a pleasure to write your requests. If you have any ideas, feel free to drop a free request! 

If you want a larger work, come check out my commissions! 

And if you enjoy my work and want to support me, please give me a ko-fi! 

#mysme #msyme rfa #mysme imagine #mysme headcanons #mysme luciel #mysme zen #mysme jumin #mysme yoosung #mystic messenger yoosung #mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfic #mystic messenger 707 #mystic messenger scenario #mystic messenger angst #mystic messenger fanfiction #jumin han #707 #mm scenario #mm 707 #mm zen #mm yoosung #let me go #mysme fanfic #mysme fanfiction #hyun ryu #mysme angst #nothing like mysme angst

[americasmarauders]

the last great american dynasty--Bucky Barnes

summary: A short story on how she lived her life after her sweetheart was kiiled during the war.

words: 1,934

author’s note: it’s been a while since i last worked on this and i think it’s a bit choppy, but i hope y’all like it. it’s slightly inspired by taylor siwft’s song the last great american dynasty. 

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She didn't expect to meet him. The usual parties her father threw were filled to the brim with spoiled brats and entitled jerks. But he wasn't one of them. 

              He wore a crisp blue suit, his hair gelled back and his eyes bright like the sun. His smile was infectious and she found herself smiling from across the room just seeing the sight. He made his way towards her and she didn’t imagine how much her world would change.

              Bucky, that's what his name was, had not come to one of those gatherings before. It was usually his father that came. But his father was out of town, and he was to take over the small company soon anyway, so he came. His bright smile and twinkling blue eyes knocked her world out of its axis. 

              They talked all night. Not those pretentious, boring conversations. Actual conversations. He told her stories about his sisters and his best friend. How his best friend was the best person in the world, how he struggled so much and yet never once lost his kindness. How his sisters were always up to mischief. Bucky's eyes shine bright at those simple anecdotes, and she shone with him, for him. 

              After that, he would sneak in through her window some nights and they would talk in hushed tones or nap cuddled to each other. He would leave by dawn, a couple of hours before his Father expected him to appear and help him with the business. Other nights, he would appear by the front door, by the end of the afternoon a bouquet of flowers in his hand and the most charming smile she had ever seen. He would hand her the flowers and shake her father’s hand and then he would whisk her to dance the night away. 

              And then….And then the war happened. And her heart would beat stronger and more anxiously every time she remembered that soon Bucky would be one of those boys that needed to enlist. He would say that everything would be fine, he would kiss her worries away leaving her flushed and distracted, only focusing on getting his lips back on her again. 

              But he got drafted. 107th infantry, leaving to the other side of the ocean, first thing after that 1A was seen by him. Bucky took her out dancing the night before he was sent away from her. She was left with a promise: he would go back to her, no matter what. And then he gave her a ring. Not something that would symbolize the promise of marriage, but the promise of his love. 

              He left with her heart in his pocket. She cried the entire day after she was him waving from the ship, him getting smaller the more the embarkation got away from her. Steve consoled her, held her hand and told her everything would be okay. But he too left for bootcamp, leaving her for the war. 

                he took over the company soon after her dad fell sick. It was a couple of years into the war, the ring Bucky had given her heavy on her finger. They exchanged letters, he would profess his love in every single one of them. But she could tell his exhaustion, she could tell the trauma he was facing. Then the letters stopped altogether for months. And she braced for the worst. 

              She buried herself in work and money and lavish parties for those horrible months. She filled her pool with champagne, swam in it with the best artists in New York. Inside she was bleeding, absent of a heart. She missed Bucky. She missed everything about him. 

              A letter came in the mail with his hand-writing on it and suddenly the parties weren’t needed anymore. He told her Steve was different now, like someone had injected steroids on him, and someone most likely had. He told her he had been captured and taken as a POW for those months he didn’t write.  He was sorry that she worried for him. 

              She was just glad he was alive. She was just glad that she could see a light at the end of the tunnel. The war was ending, Hitler was nearing a dead end, the Allies would win and Bucky would come back home to her and everything would be alright.

              Then again, hope really is for suckers. MIA. Three little letters changed her life forever. She had officially lost her heart. Forever. 

              She forfeited her right to the company. She remained on the board, but was rarely ever seen near the company’s building. She bought a house near the beach, few neighbors and quiet enough to live the rest of her life in peace. As much peace as she could get. 

              Sometimes she would fall back into bad habits: lavish parties, blowing her money on the ballet, not remembering enough of the night in the morning after. Most times, she would just live through the day and stare at the sea during the night, hoping and praying to whatever was out there that at least Bucky found some peace in the after life, just like she was trying to find hers. 

              She lived in that house for 50 years. She died in the house and left it and all of her money to Bucky’s sister, Rebeca.

              And that was how Bucky discovered the house. He got a letter from a nephew he didn’t even know of that there were some letters addressed to him in the attic of his house and he would like Bucky to have them. 

              Bucky headed to the house, soon after he got the letter. The man welcomed him to the house--his home--and Bucky took notice of the little things about it. The walls were littered with pictures of family. Pictures of his sister growing older with her husband and kids. He guided him to a big and oddly cluttered attic. The nephew showed him a couple of boxes with Bucky’s name scribbled on it. 

              Bucky gave his nephew--God it was weird to call a man older than him that--a strained smile and the man left him alone. Bucky sat on the ground in front of the boxes and took out his gloves. He ran a hand through his short hair, sighing. It was weird to be in front of these. Because these things belonged to a man that was long dead. He wasn’t that guy anymore. He wasn’t the Winter Soldier anymore. He was somewhere in between.

              He took out a small knife from his pocket  and tore the tape that held the box closed. He opened the box carefully and took a peek inside. 

              There were clothes on top of it all. He took it off. A jacket, military one with Sargent Barnes stitched on it. He did know how his sister ended up with it, how it wasn’t lost in the destruction of war was beyond him. He set it aside in his lap and moved to the rest of the items in it. 

              There were a lot of photo albums of when he was a kid and a teen. He spent a lot of time browsing through them, trying to remember those memories, trying to convince himself it belonged to him. Once he was finished with that box he moved on to the next. 

              The box was filled with letters. Stacks and stacks of letters most of them addressed to him. As soon as he opened one of them he recognized immediately who wrote them. 

              He hadn’t thought about her yet. He had refused to. It hurt too much. But he was still there with the letters on his hands, delicately caressing them as if she was there with him. She wasn’t, and it hurt too much. 

              He sighed and opened one of them. It dated a week after he was declared MIA.

              21/01/45

              Dear Bucky, 

              According to the Army, you’ve been missing for a week. I’ve been missing you for longer than that.

              God, I don’t even know why I’m writing this letter, you’ll never get to read this. Colonel Phillips was very adamant that you were most likely dead. I guess I just need to get this off my chest. 

              I just miss having you around. I miss everything about you. Your smile, your eyes, your voice. A hole was carved in my chest when you left and it will never be full again. I’ll never find what I had with you. 

              I never took the ring off. I never forgot you Bucky, not in the years you were away. Well, I guess you’ll always be away now.  

              I’m so sorry, Bucky. I’m so sorry you couldn’t come back from the war. I’m so sorry you couldn’t come back from the war. I’m sorry we couldn’t be together for more than we were. 

              I love you, Bucky. I’ll always miss you, like I’m missing my heart.

                He sniffed and swallowed nervously. He folded and returned the letter in the envelope. He opened another. 

              14/01/46

              Dear Bucky,

              It’s been a year since you were declared MIA. 

              I spent the day with Rebeca. She’s getting married in a couple of months and I was helping her with the planning. It was good, it took my mind off the emptiness of this day.

              She’s so happy Bucky. You would have liked the guy, he’s a smart guy, like you. He’s so sweet and respectful and he’s good for her. 

              She went to college, Buck. Can you believe it? She wants to take over your dad’s business so she made sure she was prepared. 

              You would’ve been so proud of her. She misses you. I know she does. She just never says it. 

              I love you, Bucky. 

              He then opened another. And another, and another and another and another. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed in the dusty attic. It felt like a decade. It was probably just a couple of hours. He dug through every single letter of that box, craving for those moments he lost, he was robbed of. 

              At the very bottom of the box he found a tiny velvet box. He opened it. The ring he had given her sat perfectly in the velvet cushion of the box. He took it. He remembered buying that ring. He had enlisted Steve to help him out, insisting he’d come. 

              He was so nervous she wouldn’t like it, fearing it may have been too much. But he remembered the way she smiled and teared up at his confession. He remembered how she flung herself at him, smashing her lips on his with passion and so much love. 

              He loved her still. He hadn’t had the chance to stop loving her. And maybe if he had he wouldn’t have stopped. He doesn’t know, he was robbed of so many things and this was only one of them. 

              He sighed and returned all the letters to the box. He came downstairs and chatted a bit with his nephew, before asking if he could get those boxes. He said yes, of course, mom would have wanted that. 

              He took those boxes to his apartment in Brooklyn. On the bad days he would read back those letters, just to feel a bit of love. On the good days, he would look at them and think about the life he’d have to live for those people he had left behind, that he was ripped away from. 

              He’d have to make sure he’d live his best life for them. 

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns imagine #bucky barnes fandom #winter soldier #captain america #falcon and the winter soldier #steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers #marvel fanfiction #mcu #mcu fanfic

[humble-althemist]

The Hargrove-Mayfield House

I’ve been working on drafting this floorplan for ages, but now that I’ve got quarantine amounts of free-time I’ve come back to it with extra focus and determination to get this thing right, so here you go!

reference photos with explanation will be below the cut, because there are some weird-ass bits to this house that I feel need explanation/clarification/general screaming, and that in some case are very variable depending on what canon you want to go with.

anyway! with the front of the house down there at the bottom, and keeping in mind this house is on a corner lot (streets on both sides that have exterior doors), here ya go!

(also just a heads-up that the exact proportions of everything was difficult to figure off based on a lot of these photos, and this house very much resisted attempts to be sketched out on graph paper, so while this is as close as I could get it without losing my mind, it’s definitely got some little issues here and there still.)

OK! so starting from the front, we’re all familiar with the view from the street, the long, thin porch along the front. but did y’all know the front of the house isn’t as flat as the porch makes it seem? 

this is supported by the inside of the house, where we have Billy’s room in that pushed-out bit, and the front door visible through his door, leading into a living room in the pushed-back bit. (if any of that makes sense.) not the best screenshot but you can at least kind of see the corner behind Billy’s door and how it’s clearly not level with the front door

now, I’m not gonna spend much time on Billy’s room because @gothyringwald​ has already done the work of the gods with that one (IN THREE PARTS, MY HERO), except to briefly say yes, there is a fireplace in here, it’s the back-end of a slightly bigger one in the front room. also, not that it’s at all important cause I won’t be using s3 screencaps for his room, but his room was very clearly not filmed in the same house for s3. the view out Billy’s door changes from the front door to a hallway from s2 to s3 (and there are no hallways in this house, as you’ll see), and the view out his front-facing window changes from porch to bushes. it drove me crazy the whole time so I just had to throw that out there.

anyway, for now I want to turn your attention towards Max’s room while we’re still in here because...

first of all, yes there is a door straight into Max’s room from Billy’s, and no, I have not included it on my layout. That’s because in the show they use a bookcase on both sides of the door to hide it, so you could canonically say that there is no door. to be fair, though, they use this inset shelf thing that looks like in actual fact it wouldn’t work if both of them had one. so, use the door if it suits you, use the bookshelves if they suit you. canon is putty in your hands.

also I wanna point out that in the very bottom right corner of this shot you can see the corner of some wall trim. that’s the edge of Billy’s closet. and yes, it does stick out from the wall like that. at a guess I’d say about half of that wall is closet, and half of it is pushed back by exactly the closet’s depth, giving us this corner look.

moving on to the view into Max’s room, we can see the tiny closet space that her room has. it doesn’t appear much wider than the door to it is wide, though it is deeper than it appears from this angle, probably by about a foot. we can also see her door to the living room from here.

moving into Max’s room...

in season 2 you can feel the camera operators doing their damn best to show as little of this room as possible because it’s so weird and got so many doors, but in s3 we do get a little bit of a better feel and the screenshots I got from there do seem consistent enough with real-estate photos and s2 that I’m like 99% sure they shot Max’s bedroom scenes in the same house as in s2.

so, firstly we have a shot of that inset bookcase I mentioned hiding the door to Billy’s room, and Max’s lil closet to the right. it takes a stupid about of staring at the bottom right corner, but you can just barely see the shadow of what must be the closet’s outer corner there.

panning left, we can see Max’s windows, prime for sneaking out to do nerd shit. in the show they put a lil firewood storage thing directly under her windows for extra sneaking out potential, but I can only put so many pictures in here before tumblr makes me split this thing into two posts so I’ll refrain from adding a cap of that.

note also that that’s Billy’s window closer to us, and Susan & Neil’s at the back of the house. Billy’s would seem ideal for climbing out of as well, but some asshole put his sound system and vanity right under that window so idk how he’d manage it if he did. I’d love to see the elaborate shifting-stuff-around/gymnastics that goes into Billy’s regular sneaking out, though, if anybody wants to get on that.

ok, back into Max’s room cause we’re not done with it yet. we’ve accounted for a door that may or may not be between hers and Billy’s room, one to a lil closet space, and the one into the living room, but this girl has two more fuckin doors in her room.

unfortunately these two doors are never photographed together, so I didn’t figure out that there are two on this last wall until literally this morning while editing this post, but hopefully I can take you along my thought process on why it has to be two different doors.

essentially the thought process is, (L) no wall at all between darkened/blocked-off door and corner, (R) at least a foot of flat wall to the left of door. going back to all of my screencaps with this knowledge makes a whole lot of stuff make more sense, but again I can’t put everything here. If there’s demand for more detailed screencaps and stuff maybe I’ll make a part 2, but for now I’m trying to be as succinct as possible. (lol)

so anyway, that door on the right clearly goes into the third bedroom of the house, because why the hell not have all the bedrooms connected, and that one Susan’s standing in front of in the screencap, I believe, leads to a bathroom. (to be clear, there are two doors in that screencap. one on the left that leads to the living room as mentioned before, and the one I’m talking about, behind her, which set designers have understandably tried to disguise as a closet.)

this is purely process of elimination, since the real estate photo I have of the bathroom does not show the door, does not have any windows, and doesn’t even remotely resemble the bathroom used in s3, but the only other bathroom space I was able to find in this house was off the dining room, which is definitely not big enough to hold a bath or shower. I may throw out all the reference photos of bathrooms I have if anyone is desperately curious, but for now in my head it’s just a general haze of ~a bathroom exists here~

anyway, from that right door let’s walk on into Neil and Susan’s tiny-ass bedroom.

this room is so comically small I’m amazed Billy didn’t get saddled with it, honestly, but if you want some headcanons about why he might not have, my go-to is that Neil /or Susan realized this bedroom was the best for any teen with a mind for mischief. while the windows are definitely not as ideal for climbing out of as Max and Billy’s are, if we take that door on the left we’re in the pantry (yes, the pantry. stay with me), and it’s a straight trip from there out the side door, and out to your smokin’ hot Camaro.

idk how sound that logic is, but it’s what I’ve got lol

But anyway, now we’ve reached the end of the house on one side, so I’m gonna take us back to the front living room and work our way back from there. here we’ve a quick glance at the other end of that fireplace, and another angle of how the front door and Billy’s door relate to each other:

the two parts of the living room are separated by this wide arch, and that further bit is where we see Billy’s weights and weight bench in s2. one could say that this is just normally where he keeps it, but my own personal hc is that they’re only there in s2 because the family just moved in, and that they later get moved to his room and the basement, leaving the living room more usable.

It’s hard to be 100% sure, but looking at these photos, particularly at the floor, I believe the second living room area is narrower (as shown in the floorplan sketch). It makes Max’s room make a little more sense size- and shape-wise, and it seems like all the pictures I have of this space confirm it.

anyway, the open door on the right of the second living room bit leads back into Max’s room, and through another arch we can see into the kitchen, and beyond that the dining room.

for some reason the only shots of the kitchen are taken from the back of the house looking forward, so try not to get dizzy as we spin around here.

as you can see we’re now pointed towards the living room, and on our left (towards the bedrooms) we see the doors to that pantry I mentioned earlier. I don’t have any photos of the inside of the pantry, alas. those would solve probably every question I have about the ground floor of this house. if you look closely they look like bi-fold doors to me, but they could just open inward.

we can also definitely tell that the wall on the left side of that arch is much shallower(?) than it is on the living room side, if that makes sense. essentially, these rooms on the left side of the house are getting narrower as they go on.

until the dining room! this room narrows a little on the right side, which you can see from exterior shots, but the pantry/bathroom weirdness in the middle of the house has definitely cleared out of the way to make room for dining here. we’ve also got two big-ass windows (comparatively), since going by the direction of the wood floors, the window on the left is not the same window as the one on the right.

and going by the existence of a window in that bathroom, we know this part of the house has three external-facing walls -- or however a professional would say that. (essentially, Susan and Neil’s bedroom can’t be overlapping the other side of the bathroom.)

we’ve been pretty low on storage space here so far, so that + the fact that the door in the corner looks nothing like a door to the outside + the fact that there’s a door to the outside literally on the other side of the room, gives me the conviction that this door is just into closet space. it could be a door to the basement, but we’ve seen the back of the house before and it doesn’t look like there’s enough space there for a whole other room full of staircase. observe:

not to mention Neil’s headlights are illuminating a perfectly good door to the basement right there, although idk shit about houses with basements. do they usually have two ways down if they’re built like this? I wouldn’t know, I live on a fault-line. we don’t do that shit here.

ANYWAY, that’s the house. somehow I feel like I’ve covered like way too much, and also not nearly enough, so do let me know if anything isn’t clear and I’ll try to fix it/do an additional post and link that. cause even if most of us are writing Billy living outside of Old Cherry Road/Cherry Lane at this point, this kind of shit is always handy to have around, at least imo?

#harringrove #billy hargrove #billy hargrove reference #stranger things reference #fanfic reference

[casualmaraudering]

And no I didn’t mind the wolfstar either as wolfstar was my very first ship and is still my fav ship ever (they are my precious babies and I will fight anybody and everybody who doubts my love for them). Like if you have more wolfstar headcannons I am all ears. I will probs just lay in bed and cry over how cute they are 🌻

heyo anon! sorry for taking so long to get to you, I appreciate the kind words!!

this time i am offering you some wolfstar headcanons (plus trans rem ofc) but modern hogwarts au, hope you'll like them! also just beware there's mentions of sex in this one!

Remus actually came out around the middle of 5th year. so only starting then he started sleeping in the boys' dorm (they've had sleepovers with him and Lily before yeah but this time he'd actually live with them) and he's quite unsure about his sexuality - he knows he's into girls but he's not sure about boys. a sight of Sirius in the morning, half of his clothes off, getting dressed and with his hair all messed up from sleep, was quite enough for Remus to realize he does, indeed, like boys

Sirius starts crushing on Remus when they come back from the summer hols for their 6th year. Remus grew a bit taller, he tanned very nicely, he has an undercut (his feelings might be wholy based on that alone) and new glasses and a very big baggy sweater and seeing him in the platform did Things to Sirius

upon realisation, Sirius, of course, has a bit of a gay breakdown, because hello this is one of his best friends and also there's no way Remus would like him back (ha) yada yada

Sirius becomes the clumsy one in the dorm. If Remus isn't in the room, he's fine, but as soon as he steps in it's like someone pressed a button labeled "incompetence" inside of Sirius's brain. He trips, he drops things, he fumbles with words. just a gay mess, that one

they kiss for the first time shortly before the Yule break. Sirius is waiting for Remus and very nervously fumbling with the ribbon on the present he's gonna give him (a charmed binder plus a few sweaters. and an entire freaking bag of his favourite salty caramel chocolates. Sirius wanted Remus to know he cares). when Remus finally gets to the dorm and is opening the gift Sirius is dying of nerves cause he also put in a letter that he hoped Remus would read over the hols. but Remus starts reading it now and Sirius just fixates on staring at the floor and waits for the rejection incoming. but it doesn't. Instead, Remus very quietly says he likes him too. there's an awkward couple minute period of being shocked and a little awkward and them not knowing what they're doing, but then Sirius asks to kiss him

they leave for Yule on the next day. it's a little awkward (they're teenagers hello), but they hold hands a little bit when they're in the train. they're both blushing like crazy and refusing to acknowledge it

Sirius makes the impulse decision to kiss Remus right after they've said their goodbyes and were just about to turn around and leave. He then smiles awkwardly, takes a step back and kind of just turns around and flees cause, while it's amazing, this is also very awkward and a little embarrassing.

that was a mistake though, because both the Potters and the Lupins saw that. Sirius joins his brothers and their parents and is promptly hugged like crazy by Mrs Potter who says she's so happy and that he's so grown up now and that he has to invite his boyfriend over for dinner sometime and also tell her everything there is to tell. Sirius would be more embarrassed if he wasn't so emotional about her being so happy for him and caring about his relationship in such a good way

Mrs Lupin, when hugging Remus hello, asks him who's that "handsome young man with the leather jacket" was and Remus can already tell his mother is going to question him about everything the second they get home. It's not a bad thing, though - him and his mum are best friends, and it's actually comforting to come sit with her next to the fireplace and ask for advice

the Yule break is a few weeks long. Sirius cannot stop thinking about their kisses. they've kissed only twice but Sirius can't think about anything else. he drafts a letter the first night - it's very painfully awkward (he does wonder if them being boyfriends means now they're stuck acting awkward til they die). but then he can't sleep and keeps thinking about those two far too short kisses and he throws the old letter away and writes down a storm about everything he's thinking. he sends it off to Remus before he can regret it (and he does. immediately after he closes the window and sees the owl disappear)

Remus rereads it about ten thousand times. And then he digs up an old jewellery box that he doesn't use cause he gave all his old earrings to Lily, and he names it to be his little treasure chest, and a new home to Sirius's letter. He struggles with the response a bit, but then he just thinks about how nice it would be to be held by Sirius and trusts his gut to write all that he's feeling.

and so the awkwardness seems to fade and they exchange letters every day. Sirius promises to buy a smartphone so they can call or facetime (which is impossible cause the Potters don't have Internet but shh no one tell him)

Sirius invites Remus over for New Year's and it's really like there's no more being awkward anymore. Mrs Potter is very strict about the door to Sirius's bedroom being wide open at all times, but that really doesn't stop them from making out all damn day. they miss the countdown and all

After they come back to Hogwarts their honeymoon period officially starts. they're glued together, and more often than not they'll be making out in a broom closet or some abandoned corridor

James thinks this is kind of gross (in an endearing way, he loves them). he takes it back once they actually start having sex - walking in on them kissing was not nearly as damaging as seeing them do more. James gives a wholeass rant about how to charm the curtains so he won't be able to yank them open and see something that will scar him for life

Sirius's greatest discovery is that Remus has dimples at the bottom of his back. he has many favourite parts of Remus but this one is amongst the top ones

After a full moon once, Sirius comes in to keep Remus company in the hospital wing. He is promptly taken aside by Madame Pomfrey who asks him if he knows about proper protection charms, which is apparently something she does to all couples that are of appropriate age. still, Sirius's face has never been quite this red (and yes, he knows them. there was no escaping from Mr and Mrs Potter's sex talk. Sirius couldn't look them in the eye for a week).

Sirius might be only 17 but he's already daydreaming about their wedding. he's weird like that

he's got two kind of hexes up his sleeves. One is for people being generally annoying, insulting his friends, etc. the other is people who purposefully misgender Remus. they're never too cruel, of course (just because he doesn't fancy getting thrown out of school) but they're very carefully picked and adjusted to assure maximum discomfort

Sirius's favourite way to see Remus is when, during hogsmeade visits, they'll swing by a bookshop. Remus will light up and he'll be jumping from book to book, and he looks so dorky and cute when he points at various things and quotes. the first time Sirius thinks he's in love with him is during one of those times

Remus's favourite time in hogsmeade, on the other hand, is when they're in the three broomsticks. it's not his forte at all - it's loud and crowded and there's too many people for his liking. But Sirius is absolutely in his element there. he thrives with people so he'll laugh along his friends and people at the bar, buy whatever his friends want because he takes joy in giving people things. he's the non drinker of the group but even without the aspect of alcohol Sirius loves the people aspect of the pub. There's nothing like seeing him light up in a room full of people to talk to

Remus spends a long time during the summer between 6th and 7th year teaching basically the whole Potter family (+ the Black brothers ofc) how to use a smartphone and hooking up their Internet. it's a process.

Sirius becomes obsessed with Remus sending photos to him. he loves that it's so easy and they can talk whenever they'd like and Sirius can save all those photos and look at them when he misses Rem. (not to mention the sexy aspect of this but let's leave that for another day)

Sirius is also equally obsessed with Spotify. he can listen to whatever he wants. whatever. it's the best thing in the world

Sirius makes playlists for Remus. multiple of them

#this got a bit long but I hope you liked it??? #it's kinda all over the place dhsjdgsj #Sirius Black #remus lupin #wolfstar #James potter #my tag #ask tag #headcanon tag #trans remus

[quicksilversquared]

The Wavering Peahen: Chapter 5

When Nathalie started feeling oddly ill again, both she and Gabriel were worried that the Peacock Miraculous might somehow (impossibly) be to blame again.

So naturally, they pick someone else to be the Peacock for a bit. You know, as a test subject. Except the new Peacock… doesn’t exactly know that.

links in the reblog

"Oh my god, you guys, you'll never guess what my mom did for me!" Lila announced as she arrived at the picnic just a little bit on the late side and, other than her phone and a hastily-made Thermos of tea, completely empty-handed. If anyone asked, she would just claim that she had meant to make something, but she had overslept and not been able to start early enough to pull off what she had intended. "It was so sweet of her!"

Heads turned her way, and several of the other girls stepped closer like they were being drawn by a string. Rose was the first to speak up.

"What did she do, Lila?"

"She brought my old phone to a specialist so they could recover some of my old photos off of it- it got destroyed during one of my mission trips to South America and I lost all sorts of data!" Lila practically wilted at the 'memory'. "Thankfully my contacts were backed up in the cloud, but I lost all of my photos! All of those memories, gone! I thought that there was no way to get them back!"

Rose gasped in excitement. "But she got them recovered! That's so great!"

"Some were lost for good- most of them, actually. But I got some back and now they're on my phone and on the cloud, just in case." Lila glanced around. "I don't know if- would anyone like to see them, maybe?"

Rose nodded at once, practically teleporting to Lila's side in her eagerness to see. Alya wasn't far behind, and then Mylène and Nino came behind her. Lila beamed, pulling out her phone and swiping to open up her photos. She had stuck in some landscape photos that she had snagged online to mix it up so that not all of her photos were shots of her and famous people, but obviously the celeb shots were the star of the show.

"Oh, that's Prince Ali!" Rose said happily, half-hanging over Lila's arm to see the phone screen better. "You two definitely look close!"

"Yes, well, we've worked with each other several times," Lila told her. "So of course we're close! I took this picture maybe a year and a half ago? I was at his castle for two weeks while discussing all of the different types of charity work we were doing and ideas for going forward. It was lovely there, really. The beds were so comfortable, and the food was amazing!"

There was a chorus of 'that's so cool!'s and 'you're so lucky!'s. Lila beamed, happy with the attention, and dove into her prepared story, tying in a few of the few of stories that she had told before. More of their classmates gathered around, trying to get a glimpse of her phone. Lila held it up to show the photos off as she went, ever-thoughtful. One story turned into two, then ten, then a dozen as she flipped through the photos. It was a lot- normally she just did one story at a time, peppering them in where they were relevant- but she had been too sick to come up with many stories recently and of course the photos provided a perfect opportunity do a bit of talking.

(Maybe it was a bit too much talking, considering that she was still recovering from her illness and her throat was already sore and she was still feeling a bit faint every so often, but she was on a roll and needed to press her advantage while she had it. These photos were gold, and she needed to milk them for all they were worth.)

"Oh, those shots of you and Ladybug are great!" Alya exclaimed once Lila swiped to the first of the Ladybug pictures. Even though it was just a Ladybug look-alike, Lila had found herself gritting her teeth as she forced herself to cozy up to the sentimonster's side. She hadn't given in to the urge to punch the sentimonster in the face, just as a bit of stress relief, but that had less to do with being nice and more to do with her being worried that she was going to lose control of the sentimonster and have it turn on her. "Those must have been pretty recent, right? Were they on your old phone, too?"

"Ah- no, those were just from yesterday afternoon," Lila fibbed quickly, trying not to cringe. She probably should have held off of putting the Ladybug pictures on her phone- those would always be relevant, she could show them off some other time if she ever hit a lull in attention- but it was too late for that now. Maybe she could get a couple more posters and do another sentimonster session before Hawkmoth took the Miraculous back so that she would have more photo evidence in the future. "She was out on a run and saw me when I was on a walk to try to brainstorm ideas to help the global anti-pollution initiative with Prince Ali. Since we're friends, she decided to drop down and say hi! It was so nice of her."

"She must have been keeping a low profile," Alya commented, leaning in closer. "I didn't get any reports of superhero spottings yesterday, but I know they've been out before without people noticing! Did she help come up with any ideas?"

"No, she wanted to get going again before she got noticed and mobbed," Lila told her. "Which is understandable! She said she would think it over and get back to me if she came up with anything."

Alya nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense. I'm sure she'll come up with something, though! Considering how creative she is with Lucky Charms, I bet that she'll think up something cool."

Lila tried not to let her smile get too strained as she faked her enthusiasm. "Yeah! I mean, if it's anything too out there, it might be hard to get people on board, but some out of the box ideas might just be what the world needs!"

"Would you mind sharing those photos on the Ladyblog?" Alya asked eagerly. "I always love adding good pictures of the superheroes, and those are fantastic."

Trying not to smile too obviously, Lila nodded. "Of course! That's fine." Honestly, the more people who saw it, the better. That way, if Ladybug decided to be a brat again and tried to call Lila out, it would be far easier for Lila to claim that they had had a falling out and Ladybug was being an asshole about it and for that to actually be believed. "I'll send the photos to you right away, actually, before I forget."

Alya grinned, whipping out her phone eagerly. "Great! Lemme just- ah, I should probably think of an actual article or something to go along with the photos, huh? Uh- maybe something about how Ladybug isn't just saving the world from evil, but also from pollution? Obviously I'd say that you're the one doing most of the pollution work," she added hastily to Lila. "Or two superheroines- one saving the world from supervillains, the other saving the world from pollution? I like that better! And then I'll just mention the crossover, her helping you come up with ideas and you helping her behind the scenes with akuma attacks sometimes!"

Lila nodded, attaching the photos to an email and sending it off to Alya. "That sounds good! And if you want any more details, just ask!"

"I will, trust me!"

Ten minutes later, Lila's audience started getting restless, clearly done with story time. She wrapped up quickly, claiming that she didn't want to take up everyone's time and monopolize the attention and promising to show off the remainder of the photos at school. Some people stuck around to ask a few questions, but others wandered off. Lila wasn't bothered. After all, the stories would get around eventually.

Eventually, Lila got to step away to peruse the picnic table. She didn't pick anything up since she still wasn't feeling 100% after her earlier dizzy spell, and getting nauseous and barfing would bring her a sort of attention that she didn't want, but it was a nice break from remembering all of her stories and playing her part.

The food spread looked pretty good- though Lila wrinkled her nose at an array of baked goods that had clearly come from Marinette's family's bakery- and she made a note of a few things that she wanted to try later, when she felt better. With one more glance around, Lila stepped away from the table and back towards the rest of her classmates. As she did, she nearly bumped into Marinette. The other girl's eyes narrowed at her but she didn't say anything, opting to simply walk past Lila instead.

Well. That wouldn't do.

"You missed out on seeing my pictures earlier," Lila said, raising her voice just enough that Marinette wouldn't be able to miss it. "Which is a pity, really. There were some really nice ones that my mom recovered off of my old phone. If you wanted, I could still show you a couple."

Marinette snorted. "So you've taken up Photoshop as a hobby, I take it?" she asked dryly. "And I think I'll pass on looking at the photos. If I wanted to see something that wasn't real, I'd go watch an action hero movie. That would at least be enjoyable."

Lila sniffed. "You're just so certain that they're doctored. Do you know how jealous that makes you sound? It's not a very attractive look on you at all."

"Puh-leeze. There was a photo of me and Jagged Stone on the cover of Metal Lord not even a year ago, and I've got actual selfies of me and Clara Nightingale on my phone from when she was doing her music video. I don't need Photoshop." Marinette rolled her eyes, stepping further away from Lila. "Some of us actually have the connections that you pretend to have. If anyone is jealous, it's you."

With that, she turned and left, heading across the park to join Alya and Nino and Adrien. Alya was still hunched over her phone- no doubt hastily getting a rough draft of her article done- but the others were just chatting and relaxing. The fact that Adrien was still clearly on Marinette's side was really annoying, but soon enough he wouldn't be. Not once Lila took some video of the senti-Marinette being a brat. Because it would take video to persuade him, she knew that. Photos wouldn't be enough, not when he was already suspicious of her. She would probably have to wait a week or so to actually show anyone the video, space things out to make them more believable-

Lila's breath caught in her throat as another dizzy spell washed over her. All of a sudden, she wasn't so positive that it was a good idea to come out today. She had just been recovering from a decently long sickness, and then she got up super early and had been pushing herself all day. Yeah, it had been nice to show off her photos right away, but maybe it would have been smarter to wait until Monday. Lila could have ridden out her dizzy spells at home, both the major ones and the smaller ones that had been plaguing her while she showed off her photos.

...maybe she could just sit down and she would be fine?

"Lila! Over here!" Rose called, almost as though she was reading Lila's mind. She waved and patted the bench next to her. "Max was about to start telling us about the changes he made to his game!"

Lila nearly groaned at the thought. Listening to Max meant listening to stats and graphics and coding nonsense that she really couldn't care less about. She avoided it when she could. But it also meant that she wouldn't have to talk, and if she tuned out and missed something and got asked about it, she could just claim that she had gotten lost on all of the technical details.

So really, it was practically perfect.

"What kinds of changes?" Lila asked, walking over and sitting on the fee bit of bench. "New villains?"

Max nodded, pushing his glasses back up on his nose. "That is some of it, yes. Having an ever-expanding cast of characters keeps it interesting and a challenge for those who have already played a lot and know how to defeat their opponents. There were some complaints that there were then too many rounds between the start and the boss villain, so I now have an option for people to select the number of akumas that they want to battle and which akumas they get is randomized. I also have added difficulty levels, for those wanting to deviate from the standard game. After examining the akuma stats, I have identified some that are more or less challenging than average and so the non-normal difficulty selections have a more limited pool of opponents to choose from. I also added Mayura to the game. I considered putting in Pavona, too, but..."

"She could be the boss villain for easy mode," Rose suggested. "Since she's not as good of a fighter as Hawkmoth!"

Max considered that, nodding absently. "Yes, I could see that. I have different coding for different fight levels already, so I could use the one I developed for the lowest akumas."

"The lowest akumas?" Lila asked, incredulous. "She- surely she's better than the lowest akumas, right? When she was out, she wasn't exactly just getting tossed to the side."

There was a long pause. Lila blinked, looking around.

Surely everyone could admit that Pavona wasn't completely useless on the battlefield, right? They had eyes, even if they were ridiculously biased towards the superheroes. There had been times when Pavona had been more than holding her own.

(Well. Times when she hadn't been failing spectacularly, at least, and mostly because the heroes were outnumbered, but she was choosing to ignore that.)

"I mean, I guess she's a better fighter than that giant baby," Alix offered after a long moment. "Not that that's hard, exactly. But as far as game context goes, it doesn't really make sense for the final boss to be as easy or easier than the akumas that came before it."

Max nodded, jotting that down. "That's a good point! I might make her a slight bit more of a threat than she actually is in real life, just for the game's sake. Though she does have the sentimonster thing going for her- maybe I can keep her fight level the same, but just have a couple different sentimonsters that she'll get paired with. That'll be the bit making the boss battle harder."

"That was a good point about how Pavona shouldn't be easier than the akumas in the game, Lila!" Rose chirped, beaming at her. "That'll definitely help improve the game!"

"Yeah, no problem," Lila managed, hoping that she didn't sound like she was talking through gritted teeth. She steadied herself against the table as her vision blurred out again for a moment, her mind going dizzy with it. "I'm always happy to help!"

"I think the problem that I'm facing then is coding so that Pavona and the sentimonster work together," Max said, tapping his pencil against the spine of his notebook. "And the same for the challenge mode, I think. It would have Hawkmoth and Mayura as the final boss, and they would work together. For that, some of the later levels could have randomized akuma-sentimonster pairings!"

"Ooh, good idea!"

"Nice!"

Lila tuned out as the conversation wandered off into more details of the game, improvements that could be made to the akuma powers to make them more flexible and not so fixed. Max eventually wandered off into a discussion- or a monologue, really, even while checked out Lila couldn't help but note that no one else was contributing much anything to the discussion- about coding specifics, and Lila tried not to sigh.

Boring. Boring, boring, boring.

  Even after sitting and relaxing for nearly half an hour, Lila still had absolutely no appetite. In fact, the mere thought of eating much anything was making her feel a bit ill, which was a bit concerning.

And yet she found herself staring down at a full plate of food in her lap.

To her own credit, she had tried to get out of eating anything, claiming that she had woken up late and eaten breakfast late and therefore didn't have an appetite, and besides her mom hadn't remembered to buy the things she needed to make something to bring and she would feel bad about taking food when she hadn't brought any. But her classmates had insisted that it was fine, that no one blamed her for not being able to bring anything, and that really, couldn't she eat just a little? So Lila had been pretty much forced to relent and load up her plate.

Maybe she could have let on that she had a bit of lingering nausea from her illness, but she had (for once) not wanted any more attention on her. She had been completely in charge of the narrative earlier, keeping the focus and gossip on what she wanted her classmates to pay attention to, and having the talk about her turn from her celebrity connections to her mysterious illness would be not exactly ideal. An illness could push the focus on her proof to the backs of their minds, easily forgotten about given some time, and she was not about to let a little cold do that.

Lila was made of stronger stuff than that, she knew she was. After all, she was a supervillain. Things weren't going to be easy.

But it was still frustrating that the challenge was coming from something as everyday as a stupid cold.

(She should have just left it at I ate breakfast late and so I'm not very hungry and then maybe she could have gotten away with just taking a little fruit and nothing else. The comment about not having brought anything, in retrospect, made the breakfast thing sound like a flimsy excuse for not eating.)

Hopefully she would feel better again soon. It was just so stupid that she had been feeling so great, and then all of a sudden, she was feeling worse than she had before. Sure, she had been able to milk her cold for all it was worth as far as homework went, but much longer and the teachers wouldn't turn a blind eye to that anymore. And sure, she had gotten out of actually doing anything in gym while she was sick, but she could do that just as easily with a claim that her arthritis was acting up or that she had rolled her ankle the previous day.

(There was also the issue of what she could possibly do if someone brought concerns to their teachers and they insisted on calling Lila's mom. She couldn't let that happen, or else all of her hard work would be for nothing.

Maybe she could spread the lie that her mom was already on top of it and taking her in to the doctor's office for a checkup. If the teachers knew that Mrs. Rossi was already aware of Lila's health problem, then perhaps they would be less inclined to reach out as well.)

"Aren't you hungry, Lila?" Rose asked anxiously, and Lila startled out of her thoughts. She had been staring at her plate without eating anything for too long, clearly. "You've just been pushing your food around and not eating anything."

"Ah, well, I did have a late breakfast," Lila managed, doing her best to make her excuses sound confident, even as another wave of dizziness passed over her. Was it just her imagination, or were they getting more frequent? "I must have eaten more than I thought then, so I'm not very hungry yet. I- maybe I'll just set my plate away to eat later. I just couldn't resist taking some food, it all looked so good."

"Oh, okay," Rose agreed after a moment's pause. "It's too bad we don't have a heating lamp or something to keep the food warm and fresh for you! Some of it won't be as good cold."

Lila flashed her a smile. "Thanks for the concern, but I'm sure it will still be good! And if not- well, the next time we have a picnic, I'll be sure to wake up earlier or not eat as much breakfast."

"We'll have to do this again soon, then!"

Lila smiled and nodded. "That sounds fun! It'll be a good way to keep up with everyone over the summer- well, at least if I'm still in the country and not traveling. I don't know what my mom's plans are yet."

Everyone nodded, letting out little murmurs of understanding.

"Hopefully you'll get to go some cool places!" Mylène piped up. "I mean, I hope you'll be around for part of the summer so that you can go on all of the group activities like picnics and pool trips, but I know how important it is for you to get to travel and meet people who can help out with your charities and environmental work and everything!"

Lila forced another smile in the direction where- well, she could mostly see Mylène between the spots that had momentarily taken over her vision. She blinked, and her vision cleared. "Yeah, it would be nice to get to hang out and be a normal kid for a bit, but I also want to see some of my friends from other places in person again! I've been keeping in touch by email and video call, of course, but it's just not the same."

"The downside to traveling," Mylène agreed. "I've made friends while traveling before- average people, not princes and whatnot- but I never end up staying in touch with them for that long once I leave. Our emails just end up tapering off."

Several of the others nodded in agreement. Lila almost did, too- after all, she always let communications with her former classmates taper off and end after a few months after she had to move or switch schools- before she caught herself.

Right. No talking about her real life experiences, or else people would start picking up on the inconsistencies and the ways that Lila's real life didn't line up with the other stories that she had told.

The conversation slowly turned to the kinds of friendships other people had made while on vacation with their families and how long they kept communicating once they had left, and Lila tuned it out in favor of trying to force down a few bites of food. There were a couple things that weren't overly sweet or spicy that didn't make her stomach want to completely turn itself inside out, so Lila nibbled on them while she pretended to listen to her classmates blather on about completely non-impressive people who they had met.

"Lila, if you aren't hungry yet, you don't have to eat," Rose said suddenly, cutting herself off mid-sentence. She glanced over at the picnic table, then perked up. "Hey, the container I brought my salad in is empty! You could just put your food in that and bring it home to eat later if you wanted!"

"That's so kind of you, Rose!" Lila managed. Ugh, forcing herself to eat anything had clearly been a bad choice. She had thought that she would be able to handle a few bites, but she was feeling more nauseous than ever. She didn't want to let that on, though. She wouldn't. She couldn't distract from her own stories and photos by being ill. "That sounds like a great idea. I don't want the food I took to have to go to waste. I-" she cut herself off as her stomach rolled again.

Maybe talking right now wasn't the best idea.

"Let's go get it, then!" Rose chirped, popping up out of her seat. "And you can grab anything you want to eat later from the table, too, while we're doing that. I know no one's going to mind if you take stuff to go!"

Lila pushed herself to her feet to follow Rose, doing her best to act as though everything was normal as she swung her legs over the bench and started walking. Her vision had almost completely fuzzed out as soon as she got up, but she couldn't let that stop her. It would clear up soon enough, after all. It always had before.

She took one step, then another, then a third, forcing them even and casual. On the fourth, Lila felt herself wobble, suddenly both dizzy and weak.

And on the fifth step, everything went black.

#Miraculous Ladybug #My writing #The Wavering Peahen

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (5)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

The days are the same and fortunately for you, no further attempted aggression has been committed on you. But it's not the police you have to thank for that, but just yourself. Because when you tried to file a complaint against your attacker, all the police were able to tell you was that there was nothing they could do. Because as you bear no stigma, no trace of blow ... there would be no point in filing a complaint. You sigh just by thinking about it, decidedly the mentality of some police officers will always surprise you. You really wonder what criteria they are recruited on.  

While you were serving a few clients, your gaze was slowly moving towards Jed, leaning over those drafts blackened by his pencil. God he’s beautiful when he is focused... something about him attracts you when he's in that state. But now is not the time to be lost in your thoughts! Let's stay professional first! you walk towards him a tea in hand that you lay on the table, bringing him out of his concentration. He gave you a smile, that angelic smile that could melt all hearts. We remain professional I said!

“I think it'll do you the greatest good, three coffees in a row could turn you into a ball of nerve. always immersed in your research about this ... Hoggins?” You said looking down to the papers.

“Yeah, I need to know a couple of things about him for this reception...so I could more easily slip into the crowd and rummage through his stuff without him noticing anything. Can you imagine if I find anything compromising about this story? This will create the biggest scandal this city... this state has never known.” he responds with some enthusiasm.

“You could also be killed so no one knows. That Hoggins is a very influent man. He could hire someone to kill you and your peers, like that bastard... Forget it. I can’t believe what the police told me... What are they waiting for? that I'm dying to act?”  

“This the reason why I rather fend for myself and solve problems in my own way. and that's what I plan to do with Mike. he thinks he can belittle me and hit me with impunity, he is seriously mistaken. I'll take the time it takes, but one day I'll give him back the blows he'll take from me.” He replies putting his glasses back.  

“Well, not so shy as I thought after all.”

“I am someone who interacts with people based on how they act with me. If they put me lower than earth ... I do the same.”  

He sipped his tea while putting a little order on the table. You can't help but look at his piercing blue eyes, so attractive, that's what makes all his charm, his major asset. When they stared at you, you feel your cheeks blush slightly and with a little embarrassed laugh, you get up and start heading to the counter ready to welcome new customers.

“You know...” Jed starts making you stop and turn to him. “I was thinking... that you could go with me to this reception. If I say you're with me, I don't think it's going to be a problem.” he said with a little smile.  

“What?? Me?? Jed I... It’s really nice of you but...I’m not a journalist and even less a girl from high society. I wouldn't feel like I belong there. And then I might embarrass you in your work...I don’t know if it’s a really good idea.” you answer putting a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Why not? I'm going to have a good night at this reception too. But knowing Melina and Mattew, they're going to go their own way and leave me alone lost in the middle of people I don't know. So, if I can share it with a friend... And chat with someone I like and know... I'd rather you came.”  

“Well...okay. Thanks Jed. I appreciate that you've thinking about me.”

The door opened and a woman entered the café. Given the outfit she was wearing, she was either working in the office or she was a businesswoman. But a horrible thrill pierced you when you saw in the distance Mc Kellan a smile on the corner. Whoever this woman is, this scumbag knows her for sure.

“Are you the owner of The Nebula?” said the woman by looking around her.

“Yes. Can I help you?” you answer a little worried.

“Let me introduce myself: Mrs Alice Milton. Hygiene inspector. Mr. Kellan has informed me that you are not complying with certain health measures and I am here to check. You don't mind, do you?

“No... Not at all.” you said, trying to stay calm.  

Mrs Milton began to do his inspection. She checked every table, every seat, every window. No object escaped his gaze. Then she went to the back shop to check the reserves and worktops. She wrote down two or three things on her notebook and went on.

You observe her, the fear in your stomach, trembling slightly to the simple fact that she could make fall the cleaver on you. You suddenly feel a hand resting on your shoulder, it was Jed's. He gave you a big smile to reassure you, calm your fears and make you understand that whatever she says, he will help you.

Mrs. Milton put away her belongings without saying a word, then left the café to go to McKellan. From the counter you could see them chatting, Mc Kellan didn't look happy and the young woman tried to calm him down. You'd like to be a pigeon or a fly to find out what they're telling each other.

Suddenly you see Mc Kellan driving away without Mrs. Milton. This one came back to the café but for some reason, you feel more comfortable...as if she were just becoming a customer like the others. And this was confirmed when she smiled at you, a reassuring smile, a friendly smile.  

“You can breathe now, he's gone. I'm sorry I did this with you. But I had to stay professional in front of him. You are not Horace's first victim. Can I?” She said, looking at Jed’s table.  

“Sure.” Jed simply said.

“You look like... not to appreciate him either.” you said while keeping your distance.

“Not really. Horace trusts very few people. He's a very selfish man. Who wants to impose his laws and his manners on everyone. and as soon as someone dares to oppose him... He's calling on me to ‘make the vermin flow’. As I said, you’re not the first one on his list, and you won’t be the last.”

“I have no doubt about that. Coffee?” you ask her before filling her a cup when she nodded. “What did you say to him? Outside.”

“That I found nothing. And as always, he was upset. I said I'll continue my search...But don’t worry I won't do anything. On the other hand, be careful, He’s not likely to give up so easily. And if he gets more upset, he'll make you killing and throwing in Dry Creek.”

Jed says nothing but Danny burns internally, if someone has the right to kill you...It’s him and ONLY him. That's one more reason to kill McKellan. This guy is not only dangerous for you, but for Danny's reputation. There can only be one killer here and Danny is not the type to share the scene. Danny has no choice. He has to get rid of Mc Kellan first. Mike can wait a bit.  

“What can I do?” you ask worried.  

“Do nothing toward him. Everything you do, he’ll turn it against you. And he’ll get what he wants. I suggest you to protect yourself. Or at least not to be alone in case he'll send you another assailant. Always have something to defend yourself. Or someone.” said Mrs Milton.

You nodded and after a few minutes of conversation, Mrs Milton leaves the coffee, wishing you good luck. You clean Jed's table, who was tidying up his belongings, getting ready to leave. He wrote something on a sheet which he handed you with a little smile. You tilt your head to the side, an eyebrow raised.

“My phone number, in case you’ll need something. Or just want to talk.�� He said.  

“Jed come on...I can...” you start to answer before seeing he’s insisting. You sight, taking the sheet on your hand. “Fine...Thanks Jed. I’ll owe you one. More than one in fact.”

“I know you’ll help me someday. So, don’t worry. Oh and... I love your praline and coconut cake. A strange but very interesting mix.” he said before leaving, weaving his hand with that angelic smile on his face.

The rest of the day took place and it must be admitted that it was quite sporty. It's hard to handle so many people on your own. But until you have some financial stability, you can't hire someone at the moment. After your usual closing ritual, you go home. Next goal:  buys a pepper spray or a small knife, just in case.

You pick up your mail and go back to your apartment. What a relief to finally be at home. You put your belongings on the couch, the letters in a bowl dedicated to your mail and you head to the kitchen. Family's photos decorated some walls of the apartment reviving wonderful memories... But also, painful wounds. Homemade carbonara pasta for the evening will suit perfectly. it is rare that you take industrial products. As you put all the ingredients on the worktop, the phone rang.

Who can call you at this hour? You don't remember giving someone your landline number since you arrived. You ignore the call and go back to your business when it rang again. Someone's really trying to reach you. You take the handset of the phone determined to know who can call you at this time. Every time, it's a number error.

“Hello? Who’s on the phone?” you said.

“Oh. You're not my aunt. Sorry I got the wrong number.” respond the other person on the phone.  

Jackpot.

“It doesn't matter, it happens to everyone. Good night.” you replied as start to hang up.  

“Wait, wait!  Can... can we talk a little bit more? I never heard such a beautiful voice like yours before.”  

“Quite a charmer, are you? Well, if you want. if it can make you happy.” You answer with a little laugh.

“Thanks. It's rare for people who take the time to chat with strangers on the phone. Usually, they hang up immediately or never respond. Nice shirt by the way.”  

" well, it's usually rare to answer numbers that...” You start before realizing what he said last. “excuse me...What did you just say?”

“I said nice shirt. Purple suits you well.”

“H-how do you know that?”  

“... Raise your head.”

You gradually raise your head and face the building in front of yours. In the window that faced yours, you see him. A man with a white mask was there, tilting his head waving his hand to say hello.

“See me now?” He chuckles.

“Who the f*** are you ??” You respond even if you already know the answer.  

“What a lovely language...Well, I'm sure you already know the answer but if you insist. You can call me: Ghostface. I think I'm gonna call you...”

“what do you want?”

“Just talk. As I said, I never heard such a beautiful voice before...and never see such a pretty face like yours too.”

“call a prostitute if you want to chat, you freaking weirdo.” You replied ready to hang up.

“Tsk tsk. No no no my little star...if you hang up...you won’t see the sun rise tomorrow. Or your dear nerdy friend won’t see it.”

“Leave Jed alone! It’s between you and me! if you dare to touch him, I swear...” you say angrily before hearing him laugh.  

“Calm down my sweet little star... The truth is, I don't intend to touch him. It is thanks to him that I have acquired this beautiful but sinister reputation. He makes me the star of Roseville. We need each other. But let's talk about you. I must admit that I find it difficult to understand how such beauty as you live in such city. You must have a good reason.”

“It’s none of your business. I can ask you the same thing.”

“Well, I want to leave a trace in this miserable world. I want everyone remember my name. But for that I have to move across all the country. You know what? I'm going to let you live for now. But I advise you not to tell the police about our little conversation. It will pain me a lot to disfigure such a pretty face ... and a pretty body. And don't worry, we'll meet again. Good night my sweet little star... Have a beautiful dream.” He said chuckling before hanging up.  

You hang up the phone on the table and when you look back at the window, he was gone. Like a shadow in the night. You take a deep breathe, rubbing your face in your hands and sit on the sofa. Deep down, you felt that sooner or later you would face him. But not so quickly. Fortunately for you, he is not determined to make you a new victim of his macabre round. But for how long? you hope for as late as possible.

Unknowingly, my dear little star you fell into the spider's web. Without knowing it you have caught the attention of the devil.  

And that's just the beginning.

***

(Done! I'm glad to see you like it! And I hope it will continue! By the way I recently watched The Boy and discovered that dear Brahms~ And I must confess that he does not leave me indifferent. What a lovely British accent he has~ See ya! )  

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #danny johnson #jed olsen #ghostface

[karajaynetoday]

everybody's got their demons, even wide awake or dreaming | part one

Photo credit: Jess Gleeson 

Hello friends! Hope you’re having a lovely day wherever you are in the world. Thank you to everyone who voted in my little Google form thing on what they’d like to see me write next. Here’s Part One of my 5SOS x music journalist story. It’s a little angsty, and as the first chapter this is a lot of introduction to the OC and her story, but I hope you like it! It’s the first time I’ve written an OC into a fic, so I’d love to know your thoughts and if you’re interested in reading more about Lizzie and her adventures interviewing 5SOS.

Shout outs to @wheniminouterspace and @calumrose​ for helping me sense-check this concept, and @spicycal for giving me feedback on it in its draft stages. You’re all gems! 

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: Fem!OC, minor swearing

More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here

Lizzie Lawson was having a bit of a day. Her train had been late, she dropped her coffee moments after receiving it from the cute barista downstairs (and broke her favourite keep cup in the process), and her work computer had decided to run updates the moment she sat down at her desk. Maybe she shouldn’t have bothered to get out of bed this morning.

Her colleagues were tapping away at their keyboards, answering phone calls, and discussing upcoming story ideas with each other - the usual tasks, especially for a Monday morning. Lizzie, computerless and caffeine deprived, had to settle for a cup of instant coffee from the kitchenette, and had taken to tidying up her desk while her computer was restarting over and over again but still somehow not ready for use. She was on the floor, sorting through the snacks in her bottom desk drawer (crackers that were two months’ past their expiry date, some gummy worms, and what seemed like hundreds of cans of tuna) when James, the music editor, stuck his head out of his office and called for her.

“Lawson! Where are you?” James sounded confused. He could’ve sworn he’d seen Lizzie at her desk moments ago, and then suddenly she popped her head up like a meerkat.

“Jimbo! Here. What’s crack-a-lackin?” Lizzie responded, standing up and brushing herself off as she headed towards where James was standing in his office doorway.

“Got a pitch for ya. Step into my office, if you’re finished with your spring clean.” James chuckled as he stepped back inside and sat down on the couch opposite his desk. 

A number of journalism awards were displayed on the shelf above the couch, and the floor to ceiling window overlooked Sydney’s CBD and its tall, grey buildings, with a glimpse of the harbour ocean in the distance. Lizzie had to admit she’d imagined herself in James’ desk chair more than a few times; the music editor of one of Australia’s leading youth and pop culture publishing companies, regularly travelling the world to interview award-winning artists, and assigning and guiding well-crafted investigative pieces on the entertainment industry and those within in. 

But, in reality, Lizzie had only recently worked her way up to being in the music department, after a couple of years on the news desk and a series of casual internships at different publications around the place. But music journalism, and the passion she had for live performances and watching artists grow and develop their sounds and aesthetics over their careers, was where Lizzie had always wanted her career to go. She was grateful to James for having her on the team, but she also knew that he didn’t recruit just anyone - so her writing must’ve been strong enough to get her here. James was a good boss, salt of the earth, always had his team’s back, but he was also a little mysterious, and this morning’s meeting was one of those where his face was giving absolutely nothing away as Lizzie joined him on the couch in the office. 

“So, what’s up?” Lizzie said, trying to hide the nervousness in her voice.

“Well, Lawson. You’ve only been on deck for a few months, but turns out my gut instinct about you has paid off. That profile you did on the 1975 last month has gotten some good feedback and traction out and about.” James spoke in a measured tone, pulling his laptop off the coffee table and opening it.

“Oh! Well, that’s… good, right?” Lizzie still couldn’t figure out exactly why she was in James’ office. Or why she was so nervous. 

“Correct, it is good. It’s been great to see you come into your own a little bit, and develop your interview style. I also really appreciated you stepping in to cover the Matt Corby interview for Hannah the other day, when she had that stomach bug.” James continued, seemingly searching for an email or something on his laptop as he spoke. 

“No worries! Hannah’s notes were really thorough, plus I definitely had a Matt Corby phase when he was on Australian Idol back in 2006! Oof, that fringe, you know?” Lizzie cringed internally when she heard herself starting to babble. 

James snorted, before clearing his throat. “I’m sure Matt was glad the 2006 hairstyle didn’t take up too many words in the final profile piece. He was pretty happy with it though, and his management were too, according to the label. So happy, in fact, that they’re requested you to profile another one of their artists.”

James had Lizzie’s full attention now, and she still couldn’t read his expression. “Really? Me? Who’s the artist?” She asked, trying not to get too excited too soon.

“Yes, indeed, you. 5 Seconds of Summer, or 5SOS. They’ve got a new album due out in a month or so, and their publicist is keen to fly you out to LA for a few weeks to follow them around while they wrap things up in the studio, and do a profile piece on their journey to date. Are you familiar with their stuff? They’re offering us an exclusive, something about the album being linked to their homeland or something, so they wanted to go with an Australian media outlet first.” James set his laptop back down on the coffee table and angled it so Lizzie could see an email on the screen that had a few lines of text and a photo of a band onstage.

5SOS. Was Lizzie familiar? Oh yes, she was familiar. Lizzie Lawson hailed from the western suburbs, and 5SOS was the area’s biggest success story. Aussie boys made good, with millions of albums sold, billions of song streams, thousands of concerts played all around the world, that was their career to date. But for Lizzie, 5SOS were always a bit closer to home. She’d attended the same high school as three of the band members, and Michael Clifford was someone she called her best friend, once upon a time. Ashton had also befriended Lizzie’s older brother Lachlan when they’d worked together at KFC. That was years ago now, and they’d all fallen out of touch, because sometimes that’s just the way the universe works. You grow up and you move on and you don’t keep the same friends, because sometimes they move to the other side of the world and get super famous as successful musicians. Or something like that. Even if they know your deepest secrets, or biggest fears, or hopes and dreams, or you trust them more than anything, sometimes they still leave you. 

Lizzie’s previous state of intrigue quickly became panic, because what if she wasn’t actually being chosen based on the merit of her work? What if the 5SOS team knew about her connection to the band, and were going to use it to manipulate her writing in some way? What if it was all a ploy to get her and Michael in the same room so he could finally call her out on what had gone down between them all those years ago? What if - 

“Lawson! You on planet earth still, or wait?” James snapped his fingers in front of Lizzie’s face to get her attention. She shook her head to clear it, and wrung her hands together in her lap.

“Yep, I’m familiar with their work. A little fuzzy on the most recent work, but I have a bit of knowledge on a lot of their early stuff. And Youngblood, of course. Everyone knows Youngblood. ARIA song of the year, a billion streams, etc etc.” Lizzie spoke, meeting James’ gaze as he cocked his head at her curiously. He knew Lizzie had a tendency to get a little nervous when she was put on the spot, but there was something about her right now that was a little more unsettled than usual that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Good. Well, if you’re down, the label will cover three weeks accommodation in Los Angeles. Labels don’t usually do that kind of thing, but their manager is super keen for you to get enough quality time with the band to build up a solid profile piece. We’ll cover your daily expenses, I’ll send you instructions for the claiming app, and then we just need your passport to get the flights booked. Sound okay?” 

“Y-yep. Yes. Okay. Right. When would I be leaving?” Lizzie pinched her thigh through her jeans to double check that she wasn’t dreaming, and that yes, this was actually happening. 

“Friday midday. We’ll put some feelers out in LA, and see if there’s any other interviews you can do while you’re there, but your focus will be on 5SOS because they’re picking up the bill for your stay. But that being said, don’t let that sway what you write. They’ve requested you because they like your deep, detailed, open style of profiling, so don’t be afraid to ask some curly questions to get the answers that will craft the right piece, you know?” James spoke firmly, looking pointedly at Lizzie who quickly nodded in response.

“Right, well, I’ll cc you into this email chain with their publicist and manager, and we’ll go from there. You can hand over your other pieces to Hannah, you’ll need to spend the next few days prepping for LA and doing whatever research you need to feel ready. You’ve got this, Lizzie. I know you can do a great job.” James was trying to be encouraging, as he stood up and opened the door to his office, but Lizzie’s heart was pounding with nerves and she barely hear his words. 

She walked back to her desk in a daze, and Hannah had to literally poke Lizzie in her side to get her attention and ask what James had said in the meeting. A few excited squeals and a bear hug later, Hannah was off and running talking about lists of things Lizzie needed to organise before her international adventure was due to begin in a few days’ time. Lizzie, on the other hand, still couldn’t believe it. What the fuck was happening?

--

The next few days flew by in a haze of emails, life admin, last minute shopping trips and a lot of deep breathing on Lizzie’s part, and before she knew it, she was wrangling her suitcase out of an Uber and into the international terminal at Sydney Airport. Lizzie, as a generally anxious person, had arrived the full three hours early for her flight, but her parents had treated her to a flight lounge guest pass (because they wanted her to know they were proud), so she was able to deal with her nerves by eating far too many complimentary croissants and hash browns. 

Soon enough, the time to board the plane arrived, and Lizzie was grateful that she ended up in an empty row of seats, by some miracle. Praise be to the airline gods, or whichever higher power had decided she’d be able to at least try and get some sleep in the next fourteen hours. She’d set her phone and watch forward to Los Angeles time, so she could try and adjust her body clock accordingly, which meant that she’d have to stay up for a few hours at least.

Lizzie tried to be productive, and tapped away at her research notes on her laptop for a little while, before she found herself opening up the band’s instagram page in her browser. The four men staring back at Lizzie through the screen seemed a million miles away from the gangly, excitable teenagers she’d known all those years ago. There was an interesting intensity about them in the photograph, steely gazes and defined bodies under carefully selected clothing, but there was also a peacefulness in their poses beside one another. Like being together, in this moment captured minutes before heading onstage, was the most natural thing in the world. Lizzie found her eyes drawn towards Michael; his dirty blonde hair swept across his forehead (not dissimilar to the style he’d had in their high school days, to be honest), and it was accompanied by some scruffy facial hair and a dangly cross earring in one ear. His grey-green eyes seemed to peer right into her soul, and Lizzie involuntarily shivered at the thought of seeing him again in person in a day or so. 

She was still anxious about whether or not this entire thing was a scam, but nonetheless, she was going to try her darndest to be a consummate professional, and write the best profile story of her life. In her research, Lizzie had reviewed some previous 5SOS interviews, and she’d cringed her way through their Rolling Stone interview from many years prior. She remembered reading it at the time it was published, unable to believe some of the words attributed to the boys she’d once called her friends, and the intense aftermath that followed. Understandably, they’d avoided in-depth profile interviews since, so Lizzie was incredibly curious as to why they’d changed their mind. Why now? Why her? She closed her laptop and drifted into sleep, curled up across three airplane seats and tucked under a thin blanket. 

Lizzie’s shoulders and neck were stiff when she awoke, an hour or so before her flight was due to land. She used the in-flight wifi to check her emails quickly, and noted a new one from 5SOS’s publicist Danielle, which welcomed Lizzie to Los Angeles and explained that she should catch a taxi to her accommodation at the address listed, and that she should give her a call once she was checked in. Right. That seemed straight forward enough.

LAX customs were intimidating as ever (god, Lizzie was so nervous), but Lizzie made it through without incident and was able to quickly make her way into a cab with a driver who seemed familiar with her accommodation address. They drove her to a boutique-looking hotel, and when Lizzie checked in and made her way up to her room, she was pleasantly surprised at how nice it was. A queen-sized bed, a good desk for working at, a nice view from her balcony of the Hollywood Hills, a small kitchenette with a fridge and microwave, and a glorious bathroom that had a very enticing bath tub in it (Lizzie’s shoulders and neck were already thankful for the idea of being able to soak in some nice hot water for a while). 

After checking the room for serial killers (better to be safe than sorry, right?) Lizzie had a quick shower and changed out of her travel trackies and oversized hoodie into a pair of jeans, a clean shirt and a blazer, before opening up her phone and scrolling down to Danielle’s contact. A few deep breaths were required before Lizzie built up the courage to press “call”.

“This is Danielle!” A cheery American accent answered on the other end of the line.

“H-hi Danielle, this is Lizzie, from Junkee Australia. You said in my email I should give you a call once I was all checked in, and I am, so…” Lizzie found herself giggling nervously and facepalmed.

“Lizzie, of course! How was your flight? Long and boring?”

“Yep, that about sums it up!” Danielle’s enthusiasm made Lizzie feel like she had to perk herself up a bit in conversation.

“Well, I’m sure you’re gagging for a nap, but we’ve got to get you adjusted to the timezone so we can make the most of your time here. I’m just finishing up something in the office, but I can swing by your hotel in about 45 minutes, and we can go over your story pitch and the band schedule for the next few weeks, and figure out your interview time slots and other things you can go along to observe, if that works for you?” Lizzie could hear Danielle’s keyboard clacking as she spoke.

“Sure, well, you have my number now, so just text me when you get here. I’ll try my best not to nap in the meantime.” Lizzie’s somewhat dry response got a laugh out of Danielle, who agreed and bid her farewell, ending the call.

Placing her phone down on the bedside table, Lizzie looked around the hotel room that was set to be her home away from home for the better part of the next month, and spotted a coffee machine on top of the mini fridge. If she was really going to keep her no-nap promise, caffeine was definitely in order. 

True to her word, Danielle arrived at the hotel within the hour, and soon Lizzie found herself sat beside Danielle on a fancy couch tucked in a corner of the hotel lobby. Danielle had opened up her laptop, and also pulled a plastic folder of documents out of her tote bag.

“Okay, so… I’m sure you’ve done your own research, but here’s a few hard copies of the band bio, album press release, and a few other tidbits from the label, along with a hard copy of the band schedule. It’s all confidential and coded, the electronic version I’ve emailed you will have the proper locations for everything, but I thought a print out might be handy anyway. The boys are recording some stuff at the studio Calum has at his house tomorrow, so I figured we could introduce you there and then after that figure out what else you’d like to get done. There’s an industry showcase for some of the new songs at the end of the week, and then they’re doing various promo and album prep things, finalising mixes, photoshoots, etc, so there’s a bit of variety for you. Any initial thoughts on how you want to do the interviews for your profile?” Danielle rattled off, gazing at Lizzie expectantly when she finished speaking.

Lizzie blinked at her a few times before collecting herself. “In my research, I found it really interesting to hear the band and some of the fans talking about how 5SOS has evolved into the collective effort of four individual artists, not just the band as one artistic music entity, so I was hoping, if possible, to interview them individually, as well as observing them as a group. Would.. Would that be okay, do you think?” 

Danielle pursed her lips, before breaking out into a smile. 

“I think that sounds exactly like something the band would be willing to do. Damn, Matt Emsell was right - you do know your stuff.” She chuckled, handing the folder of documents over to Lizzie and pulling out the schedule that was on top.

“So studio at Calum’s tomorrow from 10am, I’ll swing by and collect you so we can do introductions, I’ll stick around for a bit just to make sure you’re all good but otherwise I’m just going to let you do your thing. The band have been doing this for long enough now, they don’t need their publicist hovering.”

The curiosity was killing Lizzie. She couldn’t not ask. 

“Danielle, I’ve got to ask this, sorry. Do the band… know me? Know that I’m the one coming to interview them?” Lizzie managed to get out, avoiding eye contact.

“What do you mean?” Danielle cocked her head to one side, clearly confused at the question. “I sent them the Matt Corby piece you did, and they liked that, so that was one of the reasons we asked you out here. So they’re familiar with your work, if that’s what you’re asking?”

“No, um… oh god, I’ve made this super awkward now.” Lizzie laughed dryly, wringing her hands together. “I mean, I know them. Personally. Or at least I used to. I’m from Sydney, and I went to school with Luke, and Calum, and… Michael. So I was just wondering,  um, if they realised that it was me and that was part of why I was asked to come to LA for this…Not really sure why that would make them choose me, but I just wanted to make sure we were all on the same page before tomorrow.” Lizzie finally dared to look up at Danielle, whose expression was unreadable.

“Hmm, well, that is interesting. As far as I know, that wasn’t a factor at all. We all genuinely liked your writing style, so whether or not the boys made the connection, I have no idea. They’re not super keen on any irrelevant personal life stuff making it into this piece though, so if this is going to be a problem for you, we should deal with it now.” Her tone was slightly less warm than before, and Lizzie could sense the protective publicist side of Danielle kicking in.

“Definitely not a problem. I entirely intend to be fully professional, and like you said, my writing will speak for itself. Just wanted to put it all out there. Not a problem for me.” Lizzie spoke up, willing herself to sound more confident than she felt.

“Good. We have no problems here then. I’ve got to run, but text me with any questions, otherwise I’ll see you at 9.30am tomorrow for the drive to Calum’s!” Danielle’s tone was nice and bright again, as she shut her laptop and gathered her belongings, patting Lizzie’s shoulder in what she assumed was some sort of attempt at calming her nerves.

It didn’t work though. Not a problem for Lizzie? Bullshit. Not a problem for 5SOS, and Michael in particular? Seemed unlikely. 

--

Lizzie was worried she’d have a restless night’s sleep because of her overwhelming anxiety about the next day’s reunion, but the exhaustion from her travelling overtook her and she almost slept through her alarm. A quick shower and a shot of espresso later and Lizzie was downstairs waiting for Danielle to pick her up to head over to meet the band.

“Morning! How’d you sleep?” Danielle chirped as she rolled into the car park, her car window down. 

“Very deeply, thank you! The room is really comfortable. Thanks again for organising.” Lizzie mentally urged herself to keep up the small talk as a way of hiding her nerves.

The car ride over was mostly quiet, but when they pulled up outside of what Lizzie assumed was Calum’s house, she definitely felt like she was about to vomit.

“Just so you know, I flagged our conversation last night with the band. About your pitch around the individual interviews, and also about your little… connection to them. Ashton didn’t seem to think it was a problem, so it should all be fine.” Danielle mused, as she opened her car door and hopped out. All Lizzie could do was nod, because her throat was dry and she was starting to panic. She blindly followed Danielle through the front gate and around the side of the house to a building in the backyard, Lizzie strained to hear what sounded like raised, male voices floating towards them as they approached. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it didn’t entirely sound positive.

Danielle knocked loudly on the door and shot Lizzie a reassuring smile, before the shouting subsided and it swung open. Calum Hood stood in the doorway, and Lizzie sucked in a breath. It’d been eight years, maybe more since she’d last seen Calum, and even then, had they spoken? She couldn’t remember. 

Calum smiled at Danielle, and then his eyes flickered over to Lizzie, not quite carrying the same happiness, but not entirely losing it either.

“Morning, ladies. Welcome to casa di Calum, come on in.” He spoke with that scratchy, deep voice of his that Lizzie had reacquainted herself with when watching hours of interviews during her research. 

Danielle stepped passed Calum into the room, and she indicated for Lizzie to follow, which she did. Lizzie could feel Calum’s gaze on her as she brushed past him, but the minute she stepped inside, any sense of warmth or welcome she’d felt before vanished. 

Luke and Ashton were standing over by the sound recording panel, turning to look at Lizzie and Danielle as they entered. Lizzie thought she saw a hint of a smile on Luke’s face (they had survived Year 8 Maths together, after all… that had to count for something, right?), but Ashton was unreadable.

Entirely obvious, though, was the look of bitter disdain on Michael Clifford’s face when Lizzie finally spotted him hunched over on the couch along the wall. Those grey-green eyes were staring her down with a harsh glare. It had familiarity about it, Lizzie realised, but not in a good way. 

Danielle cleared her throat in the silence, and turned to Lizzie.

“Well, I believe introductions might not be required, but in the interest of professionalism and courtesy - “ Lizzie didn’t miss Danielle’s pointed glance towards Michael, who was still scowling silently towards everyone - “Lizzie Lawson from Junkee, I would like you to meet Calum Hood, Ashton Irwin, Luke Hemmings and Michael Clifford, also collectively known as 5 Seconds of Summer or 5SOS.” 

Lizzie waved, and then immediately cursed herself for being so goddamn awkward.  She received a nod of recognition from Ashton, and small smiles from Luke and Calum. From Michael, more scowling. This was going to be a long three weeks. 

“So, Lizzie, why don’t you go through the pitch for the profile that we discussed yesterday? The boys already have a bit of an idea, but I’m sure they’d love to hear it from you.” Danielle was being overly encouraging, but it worked, and Lizzie took a deep breath before speaking.

“Thanks, Danielle. And thank you to you guys, honestly. I know this is a little strange for all of us -”

“Fucking oath it is.” Lizzie heard Michael mutter under his breath, but she continued, undeterred. 

“But, I’m really excited to have the opportunity to interview you and pull together this story. Especially on behalf of the Australian music media. I know they haven’t always given you the recognition you deserve, but I think this piece is a chance to overcome that. Anyway, the specific pitch I’d love to go with is reflective of you as individual artists, as well as the collective band group. If it’s suitable, it’d be great to have the chance to speak to each of you one-on-one as well as a group, to give a holistic view of your journeys as people and as musicians and what you’re trying to achieve with this album. So… yeah…” Lizzie trailed off nervously, clenching her hands at her sides.

“I love it. We’re happy you’re here, Lizzie. I really loved the Matt Corby piece Danielle sent us, and like you said, it was really important for us to have the perspective of an Australian journalist for this story and where we’re at right now.” Ashton’s calm voice broke the silence, as he nodded at Lizzie in agreeance. Luke and Calum nodded too, and Lizzie tried not to look towards Michael because no doubt he was still glaring at her.

“Great! Everyone’s on the same page. I have to dash off to a meeting, but Lizzie has my number if she needs it, otherwise all of you please behave and don’t scare her off, nor say anything that means I’ll have to destroy her tape recorder. Sound good? Good!” Danielle rattled off quickly, moving out the door and shutting it behind her. 

The tension in the air was thick, and it was all seething from Michael’s direction towards Lizzie. She closed her eyes for a moment, before reaching into her bag and pulling out her phone, notebook and pen. She spotted a chair behind her, and turned back towards Luke and Ashton.

“Well, where do you want to start? A group sit down, some general thoughts on the journey so far and what the album experience has been like?” Lizzie offered, trying to make herself sound enthusiastic, but also in control and like she knew what she was doing.

Luke, Calum and Ashton all murmured in agreeance, and moved themselves over to sit by Michael on the couch, while Lizzie dragged the chair she’d spotted over to sit facing them.

“Right. All good if I audio record this?” She asked, hitting record on her voicenotes app after three heads nodded at her.

“So, the album. Where did it begin? Did anyone or anything influence or kick off the sonic direction or the start of the exploratory process?”

The conversation was flowing quite well, Lizzie though. Ashton dominated most of the responses to her questions, but Luke and Calum chipped in their perspectives throughout. Michael didn’t say a word, even when Calum poked him in the side, and instead of glaring at Lizzie he was now staring blankly at the wall over her shoulder. An improvement, sort of, but still not ideal from a journalist and interviewee perspective, let alone when the interviewee was someone who used to be Lizzie’s best friend. 

Before she knew it, an hour had past, and Ashton stood, remembering a meeting they had scheduled with the label and their management team, and bringing the interview to a close. 

As Lizzie was packing up her equipment, she cautiously brought up the topic of the one on one interviews. 

“So, does anyone in particular have free time in the next few days, so I can start on the individual profiling part of the story?” Lizzie asked, her tone hopeful.

Michael’s response was to push straight past her and walk out of the studio, muttering to himself and slamming the door as he went. The loud noise made Lizzie flinch, and she realised her heart was racing and her hands were a little shaky. 

“I’ve got time, LL Cool J. I’ll meet you at Joan’s on Third for lunch, say 1pm?”  Lizzie smiled at the pld nickname Calum slipped into his quiet response to her question. 

“Works for me, C Dizzle Swizzle. Thanks again for your time today, I really appreciate it. Not to sound like a broken record, but I’m really excited for this piece and the chance to tell your story.” Lizzie found herself grinning like an idiot as she met Calum’s warm gaze, and noted that Ashton and Luke were also smiling at her.

“We’re excited too, Lizzie. Even if… some of us might not quite be as enthusiastic as they should be. But, don’t worry. He’ll come round.” It was Luke that spoke this time, his striking blue eyes somehow staring straight into Lizzie’s soul as he looked at her. 

“Here’s hoping.” Lizzie tried not to sound too dull in her response, but it was a challenge. 

Because honestly, how the fuck was she going to do a profile on all four members of 5 Seconds of Summer, if one of them could barely stand being in the same room as her?

Time will tell, Lizzie thought to herself as she walked out of the door to Calum’s studio and into the warm California sunlight. Time will tell. 

Taglist: @suchalonelysunflower​ @blackbutterfliescal​ @redrattlers​ @loveroflrh​ @spicycal​ @notinthesameguey​ @metalandboybands​

More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here

#5sos imagine #5sos fanfiction #my writing #ashton irwin imagine #luke hemmings imagine #calum hood imagine #michael clifford imagine #5sos blurb #ashton irwin fanfiction #luke hemmings fanfiction #calum hood fanfiction #michael clifford fanfiction #whew this is the longest thing i've written so far #hope you like it #it's fine if you don't tho #the posting anxiety is REAL omg

[kalypsichor]

five’s a crowd [ beatles x reader ] part seven

summary: You’re not jealous of the fact that girls on Tinder love George, you’re not. John may or may not be sexually attracted to metaphors. Paul may or may not have a professor kink. Ringo is just vibin’ like always. Gigi Hadid terrorizes your dreams. Oh, and y’all finally get the McLennon sandwhich you asked for.

warnings: 2k words of the usual bullshit, some english major bashing, actually it’s just john bashing ( sorry @spaceyantique​ ), i love english majors, and miscommunication babey!

masterlist and parts one | two | three | four | five | six

i’m writing this draft at 3 am. it’s a new low for me. oh, and the poem mentioned in geo’s tinder is lyrics from ‘for you blue’

“Well, it is a flattering picture.”

You have to agree with Ringo. The two of you are perched on the couch, peeking over George’s shoulder at the Tinder profile. John and Paul are sharing the armchair, snickering at something. Probably another scheme. Bastards…

The photo is the one John had snapped a few days ago of George in the kitchen. He’s got this brilliant smile on his face, just having taken his first warm shower in weeks, and he’s gloriously naked from the belly button up. It’s a little blurry, but it captures George’s happiness—though you privately think that no picture could ever really do the boy justice. Take that, stupid Tinder girls.

“‘George.’” Ringo reads the bio out loud. “‘Twenty-one. Majoring in horticultural science, looking for a girl to put the ‘ho’ into it.’ This is terrible,” he says rather gleefully. George turns around and gives his friend a betrayed look.

“You missed the best bit. ‘I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you. You looked at me, that’s all you had to do.’ What’s that?”

George goes stock still. Slowly, his head turns to John and you swear you can hear it creak like a door hinge.

“You.” The word shakes from his throat with a quiet rage. “You looked through mY DIARY???”

“YOU HAVE A DIARY?” Ringo screeches. Paul has the common sense to look a little frightened, but his boyfriend, who borrows a brain cell from Paul from time to time, does not.

“You write beautiful poetry, George,” John croons, and you have to physically hold George down to keep him from tackling the dumbass. Paul, getting flashbacks to the Shower Debacle, shudders.

You, on the other hand, are trying to wrap your head around the bio. Poetry? About who? That didn’t sound like it was about just anybody. Lucky girl, your mind hisses. Or boy. You immediately try recalling every single time George has brought up a classmate. Your brain sputters a bit and spits out an answer to one of the questions you’d skipped on your first midterm yesterday. Except now it’s fucking useless, isn’t it????

Ringo speaks, bringing you out of your downward spiral into insanity. “Hey, the app says you’ve got a match.”

Frowning, George taps on the notification. “But I haven’t even looked at anyone’s profile.”

“I did you a favor and swiped right a couple o’ times,” John says. George groans—no, the sound does not turn you on a little—and hangs his head forward. By ‘a couple,’ John must’ve meant a couple hundred, because George’s phone is blowing up. The only thing keeping George from hurtling the phone right into John’s smarmy little meerkat grin so hard that he shits pieces of it out for weeks is your hand on him. The warmth of it is radiating out from his shoulder to his chest and sweeping down to his toes. When you take your hand away a few seconds later, thinking it had overstayed its welcome, George has to try very hard not to sigh.

“This one is cute,” Ringo comments. The notification had read ‘Maureen Super Likes You!’ and the phone screen is now showing a pretty brunette, around your age, smiling up at George.

“Yeah, well, I’m not interested.”

He didn’t say she wasn’t cute.

“Wait, wait!” John scrambles out of his armchair, nearly pushing Paul off in the process. George’s thumb pauses where it’s hovering over the ‘delete’ button for the app. “Come on, Geo. You haven’t gone out in years. Like, since high school. Since… since…”

“Pattie,” Ringo says. You and Ringo hadn’t known the other three in high school, but, as always, he was good with names.

Pattie? George has never mentioned a Pattie...

“Yeah, Pattie!” John lights up. You wish people would stop saying her name. “Pattie Boyd. Man, she was a catch… I still remember her blonde hair. And those long legs. She looked like, uh… who’s that model?”

“Bridget Bardot.” Ringo, again.

Paul is mirroring the sour look on your face, though he obviously has a better reason for it.

“No, who the fuck is that? I meant Gigi Hadid. Isn’t that why you dated her?”

“She did not/” George protests. “And no, John, unlike some people, I care about more than just looks.”

At this point, Paul looks as though he’s about to cry. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m more than looks, aren’t I?”

“I didn’t mean you, obviously.” But George’s words are lost under John, who leaps back into the armchair and coos at his boyfriend.

“Macca, you know I love you for more than your looks. You’ve got that big old brain, and you’re the best artist in this whole school… it’s just a bonus you’re so pretty too.”

Paul seems satisfied by this. Stupid fucking English major. John could get anything his way with just a few words.

“John’s right, y’know.” You and Ringo mouth ‘y’know’ at each other and erupt into giggles. “You’ve got to put yourself out there more. You’re in your third year of uni and you haven’t even dated a single person. There’s only one more year before you’re out in the real world! And the sea will be much, much bigger then.”

George scowls, unimpressed by Paul’s little speech. “People aren’t fish, Paul. And I’m vegetarian, so I don’t condone catching them.”

“It’s a metaphor!” Paul cries, throwing his hands in the air. John nods and makes eyes at him as if metaphors were the sexiest thing in the world. He’s probably into that. English majors.

“You tell ‘em, babe.”

The doorbell rings, banishing any homicidal thoughts from your mind.

“That’ll be the takeout,” you say. George flies so quickly to the door, desperate to get out of the situation, that you feel a little gust of wind. You hear him say something to the delivery person and then he’s coming back into the living room, take out boxes in tow and a big smile on his face. Nothing makes the boy happier than food. And maybe leggy blondes that look like Gigi Hadid, your brain suggests, and you sigh.

For a good ten minutes, the conversation is put on hold. You’re all broke college students, after all, and getting Chinese is like a luxury.

“What’d you get?” you ask through a mouthful of food, looking over George’s shoulder. He’s sat back down on the floor in front of the couch again and he lifts the box up so you can see it.

“Veggies with fried noodles. You?”

“Same.”

“Twinsies,” George says solemnly, and you high five over it.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, John and Paul share an eyeroll.

“I got shrimp fried rice if anyone cares,” Ringo pipes up from next to you. You bump your shoulder into his.

“Of course I care, Ritchie. Wanna trade a shrimp for my broccoli?”

He nods and you both chopstick over the terms of the trade. George’s grin drops a little. John and Paul roll their eyes even harder.

After a while, having devoured their food like it’s the Last Supper, you’ e all pulled out your phones. You scroll through Instagram and send a funny post to the flat’s group chat, and everyone laughs simultaneously. Everyone except George, who… has opened Tinder again. Christ, how does he have so many matches?

Well, why wouldn’t he? He’s cute… and funny… and gives the best advice when you’re down…

And you’ll be sharing all that with some other girl if you don’t do something about it.

“Why do these girls keep asking about my teeth?”

You scoff, trying to ignore the pit in your stomach. George’s sexy vampire teeth are yours and yours alone to appreciate, thankyouverymuch. “Probably have oral fixations, the lot of them.”

John does a whole body shudder and you all turn to stare at him. “Don’t fucking talk to me about Freud. That Psych course tore my GPA into shreds.”

“Right, like you care about your grades so much.” You lean back against the couch. “What was so bad about that class, anyway? I enjoyed it.”

“Professor Pang fucked me.”

“WHAT—”

“Fucked me over! Jesus, I dunno why my mouth just had a seizure there.” John cradles Paul’s face in his hands, trying to smooth away the frown on his face. “Paul, you know I didn’t mean it.”

“That’s a Freudian slip, that is,” you comment, sticking your tongue out when John turns to glare at you. Ringo starts humming Hot For Teacher under his breath. John leans over and smacks him.

“The only teacher I’ve got the hots for is you,” John says, turning back to Paul, and you and George make gagging noises. “Professor McCartney…”

“Professor?” Paul’s Pout (yes, with a capital P) turns into a grin. “I like the sound of that.”

“I think I’ve been bad… shall I serve detention for you?”

“Okay, just go!” You point towards their bedroom. “Please leave the immediate vicinity right fucking now.”

“I’m gonna hurl,” George says. The two horny bastards giggle and scurry off in the direction of your finger, door slamming behind them.

You go to bed that night with a belly full of noodles and a brain full of thoughts that keep you turning and tossing in bed. And when you finally do fall asleep, you dream about Gigi Hadid, cackling as she chases you around with George’s stupid little towel.

***

Your second exam the next day goes miserably.

Okay, maybe you’re being dramatic. It wasn’t that bad—you’d done a fair bit of studying that weekend, invigorated to overcome the Coffee Incident. Still, you couldn’t stop thinking about George the whole time, and him swiping through Tinder, and whoever the hell that Pattie girl is.

Okay, stop it. You can’t hate her for dating the boy you like. Us women have to support each other, the rational part of your brain tells you.

You grumble all the way back to the flat, fighting with the reasonable part of you. Eventually, you give in. Rational You is right. Hating on a chick you don’t know is what makes up eighty percent of Hollywood’s bullshit romcoms. Yes, you are going to be a good person and take the high route.

That all goes away when you open the door.

John and Paul are standing in the kitchen, whispering furiously to each other. You only catch the tail end of what they’re saying—

“-didn’t think he was actually going to do it!”

—before John sees you in the doorway and smacks Paul on the shoulder.

“Heyyy there,” John says. You immediately know something is wrong. You walk shut the door behind you and eye Paul’s smile warily.

“What are you two doing?”

“Erm, we were making a sandwich for you.” Paul gestures exaggeratedly at the plate on the counter, which John holds up at shoves in your direction.

“Yeah, we knew you’d need a little pick me up after the test.”

You look around the flat carefully. It’s awfully quiet. Ringo’s at his twelve o’clock lecture, but you should be able to hear…

“Where’s George?”

This slaps the smile right off of their faces and neither of the boys can put it back on quickly enough for you to not notice.

“He’s doing yoga,” Paul says at the same time John blurts out,

“He went to visit his mum!”

Paul glares at John and you feel something twist in your gut. “Yes, you see...” Paul looks frantically to the ceiling. God won’t help you out of this one. “George went to pick up his mum… and they’re at yoga together!”

You walk into the kitchen, crossing your arms. “Louise lives in Liverpool,” you say slowly.

“Yup,” John says.

“And the yoga studio is ten minutes away from our flat.”

“Yuuup.”

You can’t believe he’s still keeping this up. “And the drive from here to Liverpool is four hours. And George doesn’t have a car.”

“Yuuuuuuuuu—”

“Oh, I can’t take it anymore,” Paul cries, ignoring John’s frantic shushing. “George went on a date with that Maureen girl from Tinder. He’s at the coffee shop now.”

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

You must’ve said this out loud, because Paul gives you a sympathetic look. After a long moment of silence, John once again offers you the plate.

“Sandwich?” he asks, trying for a smile that comes across more as a grimace.

You take the sandwich and throw it right into the trash, plate and all.

#the beatles x reader #george harrison x reader #mclennon #beatles fanfic #five's a crowd #kalwrites #FUCK I GOTTA GO TO BED

[junker-town]

Josh Giddey is the NBA draft pick who almost slipped through the cracks

How Josh Giddey went from being cut by his Australian state team to a potential NBA draft lottery pick.

Josh Giddey knew he was down to his last chance. As he arrived at a multi-day basketball jamboree known as the East Coast Challenge, Giddey was one of 60 youth players competing from the Australian states of Victoria, New South Wales, and South Australia hoping to be selected for the prestigious state team.

State basketball is the pathway to a brighter future in the game in Australia, but it had alluded Giddey to this point. Three times he had tried out for state-level basketball, and three times he had received an email at the end of the event telling him he’d been cut. Only 16 years old and already realizing he was at a crossroads in his career, Giddey was determined not to let it happen again.

He had the benefit of a recent growth spurt this time around that taken him up to 6’8 as a point guard. The added height only accentuated the gifts that always made him stand out: his passing and playmaking, and perhaps more importantly his ability to think one step ahead of the next defensive adjustment. After shining at the camp, the anxious hours waiting to hear if he was selected turned into a quiet confidence.

“I kept promising myself I wouldn’t get cut, I wouldn’t get cut, and the last opportunity I had to make the state team I didn’t get cut,” Giddey told SB Nation. “I finally got that one email I was waiting for.”

Giddey’s life has been in overdrive ever since. After shining at a subsequent national event, he was offered a scholarship by the NBA Global Academy at the Australian Institute of Sport. Giddey moved across the country to Canberra, where he would spend the next 18 months developing his game and his body while competing against peer-aged competition around the world. The accolades he earned at the academy eventually led Giddey to become the first Australian player to be tabbed for the Next Stars program in the country’s domestic professional league, the NBL.

After one season with the Adelaide 36ers, Giddey is now on his way to the 2021 NBA Draft. The same player who couldn’t separate himself from his peers in Victoria only two years ago is now projected as a likely lottery pick.

Giddey is at once on a meteoric rise and still just scratching the surface. He’s one of the youngest players in the draft and has a case as one of the most accomplished given his production in a pro league against seasoned adults. He is still growing into his body and refining his jump shot while already possessing the type of mental processing gifts that can’t be taught. It has been a wild ride to bring him to the precipice of his NBA dreams, but Giddey isn’t the type to get overwhelmed by the moment.

“It’s just good to see the work paying off,” he said.

Photo by Kelly Barnes/Getty Images

Marty Clarke remembers the first time he identified Giddey as a future prospect to watch during his days as a college assistant coach at WCC power Saint Mary’s. A fellow Australian, Clarke was a former teammate of Josh’s dad, Warrick, who enjoyed a long professional career with the NBL’s Melbourne Tigers and had his No. 6 retired by the club. He saw the traits that could eventually make the young guard the type of player Saint Mary’s would one day want to target, but he knew it was going to be a while before they could do so. Giddey was only 12 years old.

“When I first went to St. Mary’s in 2013, I said coach (Randy) Bennett, there’s a kid I want to put on the board but it will be like seven years before we can get him,” Clarke recalls. “He can really pass with his weak hand. He can pass full court, off the dribble, or from penetration. He was kind of doing a lot of that stuff as a 12-14 year old. Now he’s a 6’8 person who can do that.”

Clarke would eventually get his chance to help develop Giddey in a way neither could have anticipated. When the NBA partnered with the Australian Institute of Sport and Basketball Australia’s Centre of Excellence in 2017 to launch the NBA Global Academy, Clarke left Saint Mary’s to take a job as its technical director. Clarke was the perfect candidate as someone who previously had experience as a coach at the Australian Institute of Sport, and now had familiarity with American college basketball.

The same place that had produced almost every Australian player to reach the NBA — Andrew Bogut, Matthew Dellavedova, Dante Exum, Joe Ingles, Luc Longley, Aron Baynes, and Patty Mills among them — was now further investing in its connection to the league. Clarke would oversee all aspects of player development and coaching for the 12 high school-aged players who were offered a scholarship to the academy.

“We have a really good blue print,” Clarke said. “The Australian academy has been here for 40 years. This is what this place has always been doing, producing Olympians and future NBA players.”

The NBA launched academies in India, Senegal, Mexico, China over the last 10 years as a year-round development initiative for elite youth prospects. Australia’s Global Academy takes teenagers from around the world. In its partnership with the AIS, players with the Global Academy live in dorms and attend classes while preparing them for life as a professional athlete. Instead of trying to win as many games as possible and compete for championships like a college team, the main goal of the academy is individual development.

The players at the Global Academy go to school and training six days per week with only Sundays off. In a typical week, players will be put through regular full team practices, as well as smaller group sessions that focus on things like connecting the bigs to the smalls by drilling pick-and-rolls and post entries. There’s shooting and skill training every morning before school, as well as weight lifting three times per week, and mindfulness training. Spliced in with all of that is education on nutrition, physiology, and personal learning like financial literacy and social media courses.

“Our goal here is when they leave here, they have lots of options,” Clarke said. “We make sure they’re eligible for universities. We want to make sure every door is open when they leave.”

The Global Academy also plays games against peer-aged teams, and that’s where Giddey continued to raise his profile. Giddey would lead the academy to the championship at the prestigious Torneo Junior Ciutat de L’Hospitalet tournament in Spain and was named MVP of the event. He followed it up with a strong showing at Basketball Without Borders during All-Star Weekend last year in Chicago.

“His development since he got here has been off the charts,” Clarke said. “Because he missed that state-level development, he skipped up to another level and had a lot to learn. He jumped a stage, really.”

Giddey’s time at the academy had given him multiple avenues to explore on what he should do next. That’s when he faced the next flashpoint decision in his burgeoning young career: Was he better off going to college in America or staying home to play in Australia?

Photo by Kelly Defina/Getty Images

Giddey had a long list of American college basketball programs who wanted him. He had standing scholarship offers from Arizona, Colorado, Rutgers, St. John’s, and more. After one college visit in particular, Giddey felt like he was ready to commit.

“I was 99 percent set on college,” Giddey said. “I took a visit to Colorado sometime in 2020, when I left there after my two-day visit, I was ready to commit there. I was about to commit there but my parents said just wait to we get home and we’ll talk about it.

“So I went home and we started talking to some people and they started talking about the NBL Next Star pathway. I met with Jeremy Loeliger, who is the CEO of the NBL, and they really sold it to me. The way they take care of their kids, the opportunity you’ll get to play against grown men at such a young age, I thought that was better for me personally than going to college to play against other kids.”

On April 16, 2020, at just 17 years old, Giddey signed with the Adelaide 36ers of the NBL. He had become the first Australian to take advantage of the league’s ‘Next Stars’ program, which was originally intended to lure top American prospects who didn’t want to play college basketball. Former McDonald’s All-Americans Terrance Ferguson and Brian Bowen were two of the first signees of the program, but it was a decision by LaMelo Ball and R.J. Hampton to sign in Australia that helped convince Giddey it was the best path for him.

“They surprised everyone with how good they were, especially LaMelo,” said Giddey. “It was good to see because it was something I wanted to do. I wanted to be an NBL player and eventually an NBA player. To see those guys come through gave me the confidence to think I could hopefully do something similar.”

Going from youth tournaments against peer-aged competition to playing against grown men was an enormous adjustment. Giddey struggled with it at first. The ambitious passes that defined his time at the youth level were often becoming turnovers in more meaningful games. He was ice cold as a shooter to start the year, hitting just 2-of-20 shots from three-point range over his first seven games. The biggest issue was playing through contact on both ends of the floor.

“I was struggling with the physicality of the league,” Giddey said of the start to his time in the NBL. “You don’t realize how physical the league is until you actually play against guys that are 35 years old and strong, athletic, and quick. It was just a completely different level to junior basketball. I was playing at a fast pace the whole time. I was rushed, I was nervous.”

He points to his second game as his initial breakthrough, when he finished with 16 points, 11 rebounds, and seven assists against South East Melbourne, and was trusted to take the final shot in regulation. Even though he missed, the 36ers would win in overtime, and Giddey started every game the rest of the season.

Giddey was masterful at times as a facilitator, firing passes to open shooters in the corner with either hand and finding unique angles to get the ball to the big man near the basket. Starting center Daniel Johnson had one of the best seasons of his career at age-33 with Giddey at the controls, and fellow teammate (and former Kentucky big man) Isaac Humphries turned into a dependable scorer, as well. Giddey’s three-point shot also started to come around eventually, hitting 36.7 percent of his shots from deep those first 20 attempts.

“The big thing for me early in the year was I was so down on confidence,” Giddey said. “I was so worried if I missed what people were going to say, what scouts were going to think. There was a point where I spoke to one of my teammates and he told me all of this doesn’t matter. Just shoot every shot like you think you’re going to make it. That was when it switched for me.”

Before season’s end, Giddey had run off three triple-doubles over a four-game stretch and had firmly established himself as a first round NBA draft pick. Given his age and the level of competition, Giddey was remarkably productive: he averaged 10.9 points, 7.4 rebounds, and a league-leading 7.5 assists per game on 51 percent true shooting.

Those numbers stack up reasonably well to what Ball did in the same league a year earlier as 6’8 playmaking guard at 18 years old. Ball scored more, but slightly less efficiently (47.9 true shooting) while their rebound, assist, and steal numbers were similar. It is worth noting that while Ball was often deemed reckless as a lead decision-maker, Giddey’s turnover rate was significantly highly at 23.7 vs. Ball’s 12.4.

Giddey isn’t as flexible and shifty as a ball handler as LaMelo, but the baseline similarities and statistical profiles in the same league, at the same age will be tempting for teams, especially following Ball’s run to Rookie of the Year after being the No. 3 pick in the 2020 NBA Draft.

“To see how (Ball’s) game translated to the NBA, it’s made me feel even better about my decision,” Giddey said.

The appeal of Giddey for NBA teams starts with his intersection of size and passing. Giddey is an impressive facilitator off a live dribble who will fire passes with either hand while on the move. Against a set defense, Giddey is able to make quick decisions with the ball, and loves to zip a two-handed, overhead pass to his big man in the paint. His interior passing is particularly impressive thanks in part to his ability to leverage his length to find creative angles in tight spaces. The big question for his offensive game will be if he can make opposing defenses respect him enough as a scoring threat to fully unlock his playmaking gifts.

There will be serious questions about Giddey’s athleticism and strength, particularly if he has enough standstill burst to beat his man and force the opposing defense into rotation. Even if Giddey can’t put enough pressure on the rim to be a primary creator, he should be custom-made as a ‘connecting’ piece who can be a secondary facilitator and floor spacer as his jump shot comes around. In Clarke’s eyes, it’s Giddey’s overarching feel for the game that will help him overcome the challenges he sees at the next level.

“He’ll often have quiet first quarters or first halves, and then he’ll have monster second halves,” Clarke said. “He can figure things out on the run, and that’s a skill a lot of players don’t have. He can fix things in game.

“It’s not just feel for the game, it’s feel for the opposition and what they’re trying to do to you. A lot of people have feel for the game when the game is mundane and vanilla. He has feel for the game when it’s chaos going on. He can figure things really quickly.”

As the NBA moves into the pre-draft process, Giddey is widely projected to be taken in the lottery. We had Giddey going No. 14 overall to the Golden State Warriors in our mock draft, while ESPN has him going No. 10 overall to the New Orleans Pelicans.

Giddey’s entrance into the league is also an achievement for the academies the NBA invested in around the world. He’ll be the first male athlete to be drafted into the league after being a full-time academy student. Clarke sees Giddey as the type of player the Australian Institute always dreamed about developing.

“He’s kind of the guy we thought of 30 years ago when we started the program,” said Clarke. “Imagine if we had a whole team of 6’8 guys who are multi-dimensional and can pass, dribble, and shoot, defend multiple positions. We’ll stick one big guy in the middle with four guys like that. Josh is kind of exactly that.

“Coaches always ponder what the future is going to be. I think Josh is what we thought about when I first came here 25 years ago.”

If Giddey embodies the dream of what the AIS always hoped to produce, he also came dangerously close to slipping through the cracks. In the course of just over two years, he has gone from a player who couldn’t make it out of his home state to a possible top-10 NBA draft pick. For a player on such a rapid rise, the next question is the most exciting: how much room to Giddey have to grow from here?

[huarens]

everything | njm

pairing : jaemin x reader

genre : soulmates? idk hard to explain

word count : 3k

summary : you were jaemin’s everything, at least, everything but his.

notes : i’m tired of struggling to write this so i’m releasing it as is pls take this away from me it’s been taunting me in my drafts for almost a year

if someone were to ask jaemin what his favorite color was, he would, without doubt, reply with yellow.

 'why?' they'd ask him, well why not?

all colors were stunning to jaemin, and to have a world filled with so many was astounding, he found yellow to be the prettiest of them all. it just felt, warm. like sitting by the fireplace on a cold rainy day, or sitting under the sun with a book in hand, just, home. and when he went to the park with his parents or bike-riding with friends, even when he was playing with his toys next to the window, he was always on the lookout for something yellow. he's also tried staring into the sun a couple of times to try and make out the yellow glare it radiated. but then his parents would scold him and tell him he would never see anything again if he kept looking. 

and the stars.

his parents would take him out to the backyard, along with his dad's telescope, and point out all the constellations to him. he could care less about the shapes, meanings, and history. it was the faint yellow shine and twinkle they gave off that he was infatuated with.

so to say he was disappointed when his parents told him he'd be losing color in both eyes by the time he reached seven was an understatement.

he had a fit, a tantrum so loud that the whole neighborhood could hear. his screams, his desperate sobs for his parents to tell him that they were lying, that they were joking, all were heard. he only stopped once his parents told him that he would see color again when he met his soulmate.

jaemin asked them through small hiccups what they meant. someone you're destined to be with, they had said. someone who'll make you feel like you're flying, someone who'll love you in a way no one, not even his parents, could. and then they told him their love story, it was riveting. the obstacles and trouble they went through to be together, from being game buddies, both on different sides of the country, to present (jaemin blocked out the part where they decided to explain in explicit detail to how jaemin came to be). and it was then at the age of six, jaemin was set on the idea of finding his soulmate. they're out there somewhere, he thought, he just has to find them.

jaemin met you in second grade. you kept hugging him throughout the day, the teacher scolding you multiple times for touching him without permission. he didn't mind it though. from there, a friendship blossomed. play dates were scheduled every other day, either your house or his. his parents practically called you their own, they never saw a day where they came home and you weren't there to greet them. your parents also loved jaemin, saying they'd wish you'd end up with him so they'd keep him forever. a happy childhood you and jaemin had, although it was just a countdown to the inevitable.

before jaemin knew it, his seventh birthday came. he watched as the clock slowly struck down to 12. he spent the first hour of his birthday crying, tears flowing like waterfalls as he blew out the candles, his parents comforting him as he waited for the clock to strike one.

usually, a child would lose all color by the end of the first hour of their birthday, yet jaemin's fate never came. three hours had passed, cake all eaten, cartoons playing on the tv as his parents passed out on the couch next to each other.

jaemin sat in the kitchen, poking at the untouched fruit tray his parents bought earlier. the strawberries looked as red as ever, he still could see color.

how?

jaemin didn't know when he moved to his room, but jaemin woke up buried in his bed, covers pulled all the way up to his chin. he rubbed his eyes, barely functioning on the three hours of sleep he got.

once he got downstairs, his parents were waiting at the kitchen table, both in deep conversation as he walked by to get a glass of water.

he was watching TV when his dad came and sat next to him, handing jaemin his little paw patrol sippy cup then putting an arm around his shoulder.

"what color is that guys pants?" his dad had asked, pointing on the screen as a character popped up out of a hole.

"green. it looks stupid." jaemin replies, leaning into his dad as the cartoon continued on.

"jaemin.. how are you feeling?"

"i feel good, why?" jaemin looks up, his mother slowly making her way towards the couch to sit.

"it seems you must've already met your soulmate jaems, either that or we got your birthday mixed up. we're hoping it's the former though." his mother laughed airily, her smile not quite making it to her eyes.

jaemin is confused, who could it be? no one comes to mind as jaemin thinks about who he could possibly be destined with. as far as he knew, all of his current friends could no longer see color. 

except for you.

you were the only one out of all the kids he knew that could still see color and your seventh birthday had passed nearly three months ago. in fact, just two days ago you had told him the brown in his right eye was shinier than the brown in his other eye (he still thinks it was because his eye was watering after you punched him straight in the gut during your game of tag.) 

there's no doubt about it, it had to be you.

the next day at school, all of his friends crowd him, too many questions as to why he still knew what color shirt he had on, or if he could tell them what color everyone’s behavior card was. jaemin pushes them aside, spotting you on the other side of the room playing near the toybox. 

"y/n, y/n, y/n! we're soulmates y/n!" jaemin gets ahold of your shoulders and plops himself right in front of you, knocking over your tower of markers. 

you stare at him for a second, your small hands balling into fists before you scream,

"stop jaemin! don't say that, you'll curse me!" you clapped both hands over your ears, scrambling to get up and run as far as you could from jaemin.

he begins to chase you around the classroom, making kissy faces and extending his arms out as far as he could to get ahold of you.

"no! i don't want it to be you! you have cooties, and i hate cooties!"

jaemin slows to a stop.

"you have a big head too! if i have to be your soulmate, i'd... i'd run away to jeju island so you never marry me! i don't ever want to be your friend ever again! never!"

"you'll love me, you'll understand it in your big pretty head when we're bigger! i'll be your boyfriend" jaemin yells after you.

and that's the last time you ever spoke to jaemin for a while.

as time grew, so did the both of you.

jaemin is now 17 and entering his senior year. he has made it through middle school and lost a few friends. some of them finding their soulmate and leaving him for them. but he's also made some new friends, people who have yet to meet their lover.

he still sees you around the school, and if he’s lucky, in his classes some days.

today was one of those days.

you were handing out flyers advertising the after-school photography club, sliding one on jaemin’s desk while he was turned away talking to one of his friends.

you were gone before jaemin had a chance to ask you about it though, but it was alright. 

he’d see you after school for the club.

photography club was lamer than he expected it to be. 

the first day in and the teacher had already assigned projects, he didn’t even know projects existed in clubs. 

“let’s start this year off with a picture portfolio yeah?” the teacher had said, “something meaningful, significant. something we can cherish for a while.”

partner projects, jaemin recalls, take photos of something that means a lot. 

and he had been partnered with you.

jaemin doesn’t really know how to feel standing next to you.

everyone was outside taking pictures with their partners, taking pictures of random objects around them. 

“jaemin! What do you think about this picture?” you appear by his side, handing him a camera.

“isn’t it a nice grey?”

jaemin is puzzled, “it looks red to me?”

“it’s red..? I couldn’t really tell…” you laugh, and jaemin realizes how awkward he made the situation.

“you… you can’t see color?”

“yeah, i faded back in seventh grade. you know, when we weren’t talking.” you smiled, although it didn’t seem sincere.

“oh.”

silence takes over for a while, and jaemin’s about to try and make an excuse to leave before he hears someone call out his name. 

“jaemin! we finally found you.”

his group of friends come over, not yet realizing you were standing there. The five of them instead trying to find their remaining friend.”

“wheres renjun?” asked jeno, he pulled out his phone to call. 

“oh he’s coming, he lost his phone” jisung answers, “well he thinks he lost his phone, i have it in my pocket.” smiling, he waves around the said phone in his hand. 

“jisung, you’re the biggest asshole alive!”

renjun catches up with the rest of them, looking around until he had finally locked eyes with y/n.

there was a moment of silence, most of them asking renjun why he had gotten so quiet all of the sudden.

renjun runs up to you, taking your hand in his, pulling you in for a hug. 

“it’s you.”

it took a while for jaemin to realize that it wasn’t him.

he wasn’t the one. 

no, it was renjun.

renjun was your soulmate.

you weren't his.

everyday was a chore, you had now joined his group of friends, and there was never a moment where and renjun weren’t all on each other.

it was the same routine, wake up, go to school, watch you and renjun make out for 8 hours, then back home.

no day where it didn’t hurt less than the last. 

but jaemin’s used to it at this point. 

the day jaemin had found out you and renjun were soulmates, he ran home, making the excuse that he had chores he forgot he had to get done.

as soon as he got through his front door, he kicked off his shoes, making a beeline to his room.

he tore his folder of photos he had developed in the school's darkroom that day out of his backpack, along with the essay he had started on.

and he began to rip them, the heartache in his chest mixed with his rage threatening to tear himself apart. 

after he had finished with his tantrum, he cursed fate once more, he cursed the broken system, his parents for birthing him in the first place, renjun, everything he could place the blame on.

everything but you.

because it wasn’t your fault,

it’ll never be your fault.

just jaemin’s for ever loving you in such a way.

it was new years, the clock only five minutes until midnight, 

everyone was busy finding someone to kiss, everyone but jaemin.

he had gotten tired of the god-awful house music blaring through the speakers and just wanted to find a bathroom.

jaemin walked up the stairs, trying to remember where jeno had told him the bathroom was before he saw a glimpse of you pulling renjun into the same bathroom he was headed for. 

as the door closes, jaemin can’t help but tear up again.

and spends the start of his year crying on a stairwell. 

jaemin stumbles into his apartment,struggling to find the light switch next to the door as he takes off his shoes.

another tiring day at his job. he had messed up so many times, his manager took it out on his paycheck. 

a pile of mail was waiting for him on the kitchen counter, his roommate had probably brought it in without feeling the need to sort it.

as he sifts through the stack, a golden envelope embellished with a red wax seal caught his eye. his name and address in silver sharpie on the front. 

he wishes he hadn’t opened it, however, for as soon as he cuts it open, a picture of you and renjun falls out.

an invitation to your wedding. 

he can’t help but stare at you on the front of the card, smiling at renjun. 

jaemin leaves it on the counter, ignoring the rest of the mail and going straight to his room.

and he cries himself to sleep for the first time in a while

 jaemin could barely hold it together as he waits, sweat forming at the back of his neck as he stands nervously. he was on the verge of losing it right then and there, his hands were shaking as if he had just come in from the cold. as if it couldn't get any worse, the crowd silences, the lights dim slightly as soon as the organ starts playing.

the doors opened, revealing you.

from your hair, your wedding dress to even the heels you wore on your feet, jaemin couldn't help but fall in love with you all over again.

you were beautiful. you were ethereal. you were everything.

he watched as you walked down the aisle, you were decked in yellow, the color radiating and bouncing off every surface in the room with each step you took. It was almost as if you were the sun, the center of the universe, everyone else just meaningless little stars and futile planets underneath you. 

you stepped up onto the altar, hand in hand with renjun, a broad smile fitted on your face. he's sure it was brighter than the yellow marigolds you held in your hand. 

the priest began his long monologue, but jaemin tunes it out. all he saw was you. the sweat was gone, his hands no longer shaking in his pockets. 

“does anyone object to this marriage?”

’i do.’ jaemin says, wanting to run out and stand in front of you, to take your hand in his.

but, of course, jaemin doesn’t have enough courage to say it out loud.

he watches as renjun dips you down, pressing his lips against yours, sealing the deal as newlywed soulmates. the room erupted into a cheer, clapping and whistling, yet he couldn't seem to bring his hands up to clap, for he already knew what came next.

a tear found it's way down his face as the colors around him began to slowly fade. it started with his surroundings. the wedding venue, once decorated in mass amounts of gold and silver now just shimmering shades of greys and whites. He could no longer tell what color his suit was, or what shade his skin could be. your dress was no longer the mesmerizing yellow you once walked in with, the marigolds in your hands now a dull tone. 

jaemin smiles. he knows you would most definitely be blushing now, the pink tint that usually adorns your face a dove grey. he continues to smile as he watches you and renjun run down the aisle.

what he didn’t know was just how much it was going to hurt. jaemin was sure fate was taunting him at this point, laughing at him as he stood there, barely able to contain himself.

it's okay, he says. jaemin tilts his head back, clenching his eyes closed as they started to water, his chin trembling.

 you're happy. and that's all that matters to him.

he let the torrent of tears dampen the collar of his shirt, suffocating on each unsteady breath he took. jaemin rubbed at his eyes consistently, staining them red, and making his eyebags ever the more evident. 

he knows his makeup is smudged by now, pale concealer a dark contrast to his suit and red lip balm all over his sleeve.

at least, that’s what he thinks the color of his lip balm was, he can’t remember.

everyone files out of the ballroom, making their way to the front of the building to congratulate the newlyweds, leaving jaemin by himself in the now empty room.

he feels someone pat his back, it’s jisung.

“i know it hurts.”

jisung sends him a sad reassuring smile and then follows the crowd out.

the silence is even more deafening now, his own sobs making his head feel like it’ll burst at any given second. All his defenses washed away along with his salty tears.   

jaemin could barely hear the car drive off, applause and cans hitting against asphalt as party-goers get into their cars to drive to the restaurant.

he bitterly laughs to himself, it all finally setting into his skin.

he’s alone.

he’s truly alone now.

no one for him to love, and no one to love him.

jaemin finally calms down enough to step down from where he stood on the altar, only a few feet away from where you were no more than thirty minutes ago.

he could've been the one next to you

he could've been the one to slip that ring on your finger,

then take your hand, and laugh with you as you both ran out.

but it's okay he says,

it's okay.

jaemin walks out of the hall, and takes a breath of fresh air. 

it was all going to be okay.

you were his everything.

at least,

everything but his.

#nct dream #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct fic #nct fic rec #nct angst #nct fluff #na jaemin #nct jaemin blurb #nct jaemin #jaemin x reader #nct dream drabble #nct dream blurb #nct dream scenario #nct dream oneshot #nct onesho #nct blurbs #nct drabble #nct scenario #nct au #nct dream au #nct dream jaemin

[differenceenginegirl]

Everything seems a little dark and scary at the moment, so I have complied a list of links to cultural and/or educational things (and some just streams of cute animals, or just plain fun) that are available to watch or listen to or do for free (mostly) online. Some of these will only work for the duration of the current situation (marked with a *), but most are permanent (so far as I know) so can be kept around for a little bit of sunshine on a rainy day.

Feel free to add to this with your own links or ideas, and remember, we’ll get through this together (with the appropriate social distancing). Follow the advice that’s been given, wash your hands, and be kind to one another. 

The majority of links were brought to my attention by @theyahwehdance, @elleflies, and @buckysleftarm (plus a bit of a deep dive through my drafts). Under a cut because hoo boy it got long... 

(Some links in the linked lists may be broken, some may be region-locked, and some may be duplicated, I haven’t checked them all.)

Culture and Education!

The Metropolitan Opera, free nightly (19:30 EDT, 23:00 GMT) broadcasts of operas, available for 20 hours following the broadcast too. (Schedule for the first week)*

Berlin Philharmonic: 30 days free access to their virtual concert hall (redeem before 31st March 2020)*

Playbill have compiled a list of 15 professionally recorded musicals you can watch at home (Not all free) and are inviting people to join them in watching Rodgers & Hammerstein’s Cinderella Starring Lesley Ann Warren on 20th March at 20:00 ET! (video may be region locked) 

12 highlighted virtual museum tours and a whole load of others from around the world!

Science Twitter, a series of Skype with a Scientist virtual lectures! (A sign up with an email is required through the link in the tweet, running from 12:00-14:00 EST, (16:00-18:00 GMT)

30 virtual field trips! Links to virtual tours and live cameras of many different places! (Aimed at kids)

Animals!

Cincinnati Zoo Facebook Live virtual safaris, every weekday at 15:00 EDT (19:00 GMT)* Completed safaris will be posted to their website shortly after the Live finishes, and also kept on their Facebook.

Live Monterey Bay Aquarium Cams: 10 different cams showing various tanks and enclosures, and the bay itself!

Live San Diego Zoo Cams: 9 different cams showing various creatures in their habitats! 

Atlanta Zoo Panda Cam

Danish Sea Eagles Cam (this site in Danish, and may go dark, as the equipment is solar powered): A live feed of a Danish Sea Eagle nest!

Peregrines in Norwich and Bath!

Live Animal Cam, Ohio: A cam focused on a feeding station, with night vision so the feed continues even after the sun goes down! (This shows wild animals, so there is no guarantee that you’ll see creatures)

Shedd Aquarium let their penguins out to explore! (Under supervision) More exploration here! 

Two Oceans Aquarium did too, and look at these little cuties on the stairs!

A livestream of adoptable kitties!

And here’s a thread with some of these cams, and more!

Music!

Various people (started by cellist Yo-Yo Ma) playing/sharing music that comforts them on Twitter.

Virtual High School Musicals! (Original Thread) (Wider Hashtag) Many High School kids are now finding themselves unable to perform the musicals they’ve been working so hard on, so Laura Benanti invited them to video themselves performing and share it with her, so they still get to perform for an appreciative audience! (Some of these are absolutely stunning!)

Never before heard Hamilton track demo! 

A playlist of Quarantunes on Spotify, compiled by Rita Wilson (Tom Hanks’ wife)

A playlist of 101 Feel-Good songs on Spotify, compiled by @lanamlouise 

This guy made a really cool instrument out of PVC pipes!

A group of engineers in Stockholm turned a set of stairs into a piano to encourage people to use them rather than the escalator!

Stories!

Josh Gad reads a bedtime story (Olivia goes to Venice) with voices!

Various celebrities reading kids stories, as part of a charity initiative to keep kids fed during school shutdowns.

A bunch of free short stories, essays, audio and video by the wonderful author @neil-gaiman (Plus two photos of him in an ancient hat!)

Find your local indie bookstore and support them while also getting a new book! (US only)

And of course, you can’t leave out the marvelous Archive Of Our Own for fanfiction and fanworks for almost every fandom you can think of! (Remember to make use of the tags and filters to narrow your search or avoid things you don’t want to see/read!)

Food!

A recipe for Norwegian Christmas Butter Squares! (Apparently like sugar cookies, but in bar form and better)

A fudgy brownie-in-a-mug recipe!

A really nice chocolate pudding (in the British sense, so like a cake) with spiced chocolate sauce! (I love the whole cookbook that this is from, and it’s especially good for Discworld fans. Available from various sellers, I have linked my favourite money-sink, the Discworld Emporium: Nanny Ogg’s Cookbook)

My favourite biscuits (cookies) to make! Honey and cinnamon, with a picture book (Honey Biscuits by Meredith Hooper) that you can read alongside to explain to kids where all the ingredients came from!

Creativity and learning new things!

LUNCH DOODLES with Mo Willems! (13:00 ET weekdays, videos remain post-stream) Aimed mostly at kids, but don’t let that stop you doodling with the  Kennedy Center Education Artist-in-Residence!

A little list of doll makers/dress-up sites!

How to take really good photos of the night sky with a phone! (Please continue to observe social distancing rules while taking your pretty pictures)

Fancy making a language? Here’s a site with resources to help you get going with that!

A long list of sources of inspiration, arty websites, and some that are just fun!

Make your very own Peaches the Mouse by @my-darling-boy!

Want to learn 3D modelling? Fusion360 is free (for hobbyists and students) and professionally used, with a good network of tutorials and an, imo, fairly intuitive interface! (I use this a lot)

Want to play with Photoshop but don’t have the money? Here’s a free, in browser version! (Has ads, but they’re unobtrusive)

Want to try your hand at creating a sim? The Sims 4 Character Creator Demo is free! (Limited options, but still fun to play with)

Whether you play D&D or not, this is a really cool custom miniature creator, with loads of options that are being constantly added to updated! (And if you have the money, you can get it in a printable format, or printed for you in a variety of materials!)

Fancy learning something new? Memrise has a load of free courses, ranging from real languages like French or Spanish for beginners to fictional languages like Quenya (one of the Elven languages from LotR) or Klingon, or trivia bits like Harry Potter Spells or Noble Houses in Game of Thrones, and many more! (Available in multiple languages, although not all courses may be available in all languages)

Ever fancied trying to build armour or cosplay props from foam? R31 Studios has you covered with free PDF templates for all sorts of bits!

Meditation and Calm!

60 second meditation tool! Put a worry into a star, and watch it float away with a calming soundtrack and 

Meditation with Lizzo!

Customisable Rain Sounds!

Customisable Train Sounds!

And many more customisable noise generators!

Play with liquid/particles! (Warning: this one made me feel a bit motion-sick, but pretty!)

Interactive generative art!

Random bits I couldn’t catagorise!

Don’t want to dine alone? Have dinner with the Gaffigans!

A series of Mildly Interesting images from @catchymemes!

A group of stuntmen doing Super Mario!

Another list of Good Links (Really well organised!) by @secretladyspider! 

@thelatestkate draws wonderfully reassuring cartoons! (On Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook too!)

World Record Egg Instagram! Lots of nice little positive cartoons.

Happy news from The Happy Broadcast on Instagram, The Happy News, and HuffPost Good News!

Here’s an ongoing list of good stuff by @pftones3482! (Check the notes for more good stuff, and the latest addition)

Some feel-good browser games!

And finally, a little frog here to give you some reassurance!

#positivity #feel good #happy things #reassurance #link list