#just thought id make a little post about how my new stretch marks make me happy and that there are ppl out there who will love yours too 💛

[broken--stardust]

the way i see you - j.t.k.

a/n: i received three different asks requesting a fic with an overweight reader. i am personally fat as well, so the way i wrote it was definitely based on some personal experience. also, i am completely aware that this situation does not only apply to cisgender women, but this is written with a female reader because that is what the prompts depicted, and i've personally experienced a lot of body issues with my afab body, so that is how the reader's body is described.

summary: this is a fic to answer a combination of three requests i received.

1. I just saw your post asking for comfort fic requests! I’m thicker and really self conscious about it and sometimes it’s a lot worse and right now is one of those times. Specifically the feeling that nobody would ever truly love me romantically because of it. If you could write a story where Jake and y/n are dating and he helps convince her that he loves her and finds every part of her, even the stretch marks, so attractive that would mean a lot. This could lead to a lil smut if you wanted or not that’s ok too! 2. Hii, I just literally had this happen to me and I was wondering if you were interested in maybe writing a blurb for it w Jakey. My parents just made fun of how I’m overweight and even tho I’ve lost 20 pounds apparently I’m still too fat for them and they like to make comments about it. I wish I had Jake here to remind me how beautiful I am instead of feeling like shit and crying 3. id love to see a fat reader be insecure about her body. i've seen so many where y/n is just curvy, but i've never seen any with an actual fat girl. i've been feeling so down about my body lately and reading something like that would be very helpful

pairing: jake x f. reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings: SMUT (18+, specific smut warnings after the cut), negative self image, asshole parent, explicit descriptions of afab body and amab body, cussing

SMUT warnings: kissing, licking, biting, oral (f. receiving), crying during sex, cock-warming if you squint, *making love*, slow intimate sex :')

You slid the deep navy dress over your head. You pulled and shimmied it over your breasts and took a deep breath and held it in as you sucked in your stomach, as you attempted to tug the dress down the rest of the way. You yanked on the silky fabric as hard as you could, but it had no stretch to it, leaving it bunched up under your chest and across the top of your stomach. “Goddammit” you muttered under your breath as you tugged it back over your head and threw it into the small pile to your side of discarded, ill-fitting clothes. You fought back tears as you stared at your closet, overwhelmed at the task of finding something that fit you well and wasn’t your usual choice of leggings and a comfy oversized t-shirt or sweater. Clearly, you hadn’t gone out recently or you would’ve shopped for new clothes. As you scanned the racks of clothing on your side of the walk-in, a lacy, maroon number caught your eye. You reached for the hanger and pulled the dress into view, just as you heard the shower shut off. You traced your fingers over the still attached tag, examining the size. Worth a try. You slipped it over your shoulders, the skirt cascading easily down your body. It hugged your waist in all the right places and directed the attention to your cleavage in a flattering way with its sweetheart neckline. You did a little spin in front of the mirror in the back of the closet. The skirt flared in an adorable way, bringing a smile to your face as you felt like a little girl again. But, as you looked at the back of the dress, all you could see was where your skin puffed out in rolls beneath the band of your bra. You were so lost in thought, you didn’t realize someone had walked into the closet until you felt strong arms secure you in a tight embrace from behind, the skin of them still warm and slightly damp from the shower.

“You look absolutely ravishing, baby,” Jake drawled in his husky voice, kissing your neck lightly. You spun around in his arms, and took in his appearance, his damp, dark tresses laying in silky strands across his neck and shoulders, and a towel hanging low and loose on his hips. You gave him a peck on his nose.

“You think so?” you asked as you turned around to take another look at yourself in the mirror, seeing his eyes staring into yours in it.

“I know so. I can’t wait to take it off of you later.” You watched as he leaned in and lifted up your hair, kissing the back of your neck and biting ever so slightly. He licked over the mark he left, that he made sure could be hidden again by your hair. He placed another kiss on your cheek, and let his towel fall to the floor as he moved about the closet to his side, finding his outfit for the evening.

You gazed upon his naked form, taking in the delicate muscle definition in his arms, that became more prominent as he would lift different hangers off the racks as he tried to decide what to wear. You looked at his pecks, perfectly formed and slightly perky, the nipples symmetrical and dark, complimenting his tan skin tone. You observed his abdomen, he didn’t have a six pack, but he had a slender waistline and muscle tone. His dainty love handles stuck out ever so slightly above his hips. His ass was tight and round, his thighs thick and curvy in the most enticing way. There was not a single flaw on his body. No wonder he didn’t have a care in the world about walking around naked, not a single thought of modesty. He didn’t have a thing on his body to hide. Sure, you had been together for several years and he had seen you naked on multiple intimate occasions, but you’d never had the confidence to parade around naked. Even after sharing a shower with him, you would put on a robe the second you left the bathroom. Sexily stripping for him was out of the question. You didn’t even like to be on top. The best thing for you was missionary with the lights off. The thought had crossed your mind several times, that he would get tired of this. But, he never once made you feel uncomfortable or pressured to do something that you didn’t appear interested in.

“Hey,” Jake’s voice shook you out of your thoughts, “if you keep looking at me like that, we will never make it out of this closet.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you gave him a little smile. “Sorry. You’re just pretty.”

He grinned at you as his cheeks tinged a light shade of pink. “Well, thank you. You’re much prettier.”

“Am not.”

He maneuvered his way back to your side. “Are so,” he said with a peck to your nose. He held up a deep maroon button-up still on its hanger. “What do you think of this one? With black jeans? We can match” he finished with a smile.

“I think you’d look amazing in that,” you answered with a smile. You’d look amazing in literally anything you put on.

Once he slipped on his black chelsea’s, he turned to you with a large grin on his face. “Ready to go?”

“Ready.”

You were meeting up with your parents at a fancy restaurant for your father’s birthday. Once you arrived, you both greeted your parents and began scanning the menu. The night went on smoothly, the four of you engaging in conversation, catching up.

As the night neared its end, your mother pulled out a cake your father’s name and happy birthday on it and began cutting it into slices. You took a small piece, and realized it was your favorite, banana.

“Damn,” Jake began after swallowing his last bite, “that was amazing. I think I’ll have another if you don’t mind”.

“Of course not!” your mother answered and began cutting him another slice. You had just finished yours as well.

“You know, I think I’ll have another piece too,” you stated.

Your mother gave you a look with a raised eyebrow. “Are you sure?” she questioned, her tone laced with disapproval.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, immediately understanding her insinuation without her needing to say the words and looked down in embarrassment as you felt the sting of tears prick the corner of your eyes in your humiliation. You hoped her suggestion would be lost on Jake, but ever-the-intuitive one, he noticed immediately. He coughed on the bite he had just taken and stared at her with wide eyes. You quickly grabbed the hand that was rested on his leg and squeezed, hoping he would understand you didn’t want him to say anything. He squeezed back and stroked his thumb across your fingers in reassurance. Your father cleared his throat after a moment and changed the subject, directing the conversation to Jake’s band.

Jake never let go of your hand, holding it tightly as you walked to his car. He opened the car door for you wordlessly, and once you were seated, he kissed your forehead.

Once he began driving, you could feel the anger radiating off of him, seeing it visibly in the way he tightly gripped the steering wheel. After a few minutes of silence, he grabbed the hand you had resting in your lap.

“Hey baby?” he asked.

“Hmm?” you mumbled.

“You are incredibly sexy. That dress is fucking stunning. Your boobs especially look amazing in it” he finished with a flirty raise of his eyebrows.

You giggled at that, albeit half-hearted. When you didn’t respond anymore to that, he let out a little sigh.

“Are you okay?”

You let out a sigh of your own. “My mom can be a bitch sometimes. I’ve always known that, you know that, it’s fine. She says things without thinking. I’m okay.” Of course, that wasn’t true. You were completely and utterly humiliated. What little confidence the dress you chose gave you was not strong enough to not be shattered by her words and the tone in which she said them. You hated that she would say something like that in front of your boyfriend. All you could think about was how perfect your boyfriend’s figure was, how she had no issue giving him another piece, and how undeserving of someone like him, especially that looked like him, you were. You turned your head towards the window as you felt the tears start to fall, doing your best to hide them from Jake.

He squeezed your hand, taking your silence as you not wanting to converse any longer, and focused on the road.

Once back in your shared home, you entered your bedroom and immediately grabbed the skirt of the dress and began pulling it up to bring it over your head.

“Hey!” Jake started from the doorway, “I meant what I said earlier, I wanna take that off.”

You dropped the skirt but didn’t turn to face him, as the tears began to pool in your eyes again. “I’m not really in the mood, Jakey.” You heard him take two steps towards you, and felt his arms snake around your waist.

“Baby, don’t let your dumbass mom ruin this night for us. We both look hot as fuck if I do say so myself, and we should celebrate that” he finished as he placed a smiley, wet kiss to your neck.

You turned to face him, still constrained in his arms, and his face fell as he watched a tear escape from the corner of your eye.

“Oh, honey,” he breathed as he reached up to wipe the tear away with his thumb. He pulled you into a tight embrace, stroking your hair as he held you. He held you tighter as he felt your body begin to shake with quiet sobs. When your breathing slowed, he pulled away slightly and looked into your eyes, cradling your chin with one of his hands, the other still wrapped around your side.

“Y/N. You are so fucking beautiful. Absolutely perfect. I will do whatever I need to do to spend the rest of my life showing you that.” He paused and reached up with his thumb to wipe another stray tear from next to your nose. “God, baby, I just wish you could see yourself through my eyes. I just want you to see yourself the way I see you.” He placed a kiss to your nose. “Can I show you baby?” he kissed your lips now, and you kissed him back with raw intensity. “Can I show you how beautiful you are to me?” he asked between kisses to your lips that were now turning wet and sloppy. You pulled away and gazed into his eyes, full of adoration, but also animalistic passion. You took your bottom lip between your teeth and nodded. He slotted your lips with his again as he pushed you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed.

“Sit down, my love.” You did as he requested and watched him kneel to the floor in front of you. He gently picked up one of your feet, still adorned in the black, suede pumps you wore, and began undoing the strap. As he pulled it off, he placed a kiss to your ankle, and grabbed your other foot, completing the same action. He began to kiss up your ankle and calf, moving his hand on your other leg at the same pace, with featherlight touches. Once he reached above your knees, where the bottom of the skirt fell, he lightly bit the bottom of your thigh, and grabbed both your hands to pull you off the bed.

Once you were standing, he slowly undid the small zipper at your side. The fabric began to loosen around you as the zipper reached below your waist, and he gently grabbed the silk straps and slid them down your shoulders and off your fingers. He gave a little tug to the waistband to pull it over your hips, and he watched in amazement as the maroon fabric pooled at your feet. He took his lip between his teeth as he scanned your body up and down, you now clad in only your black bra and underwear.

“Fucking magnificent.” He breathed. “Can you lay on the bed for me, baby? On your back.” You did as he asked, and watched as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and let it drop to the ground. He undid his belt, and unbuttoned and unzipped his black jeans, and slid them down his legs, leaving him in only dark blue boxer briefs. He crawled onto the bed and sat on his knees in between your legs. He caressed your cheek lightly, a tiny smile spreading across his lips. “You’re so beautiful.”

You averted your gaze, unable to meet his eyes.

“Hey,” he used the hand on your cheek to grab your chin and gently turn your face toward him until you had to meet his eyes. “Can you tell me what makes you think you aren’t?”

You took both your hands and ran them across the roll that was more on display due to the underwire of your bra pushing it out, and traced them down your stomach, stopping on either side of your bellybutton where the most stretch marks resided. Under his gaze, you lightly ran your fingertips across the stretched skin, it feeling different under your fingertips than your unmarred skin.

“Well, I’ll tell you what I think. First of all, watching you stroke over your body like that is unbelievably sexy. And, second, I love this” he said he kissed a trail across the pouch of skin beneath your bra. He kissed down your stomach until he met your bellybutton, his tongue darting out to circle it. “Third, these,” he said as he ran his hands across your stretch marks until they met yours, “are fucking gorgeous. They’re unique and beautiful. I love how they shine a little differently than the rest of your skin.” He began to kiss and lick across them, leaving goosebumps in his wake, and occasionally a little nibble here and there. “What else, baby?”

You ran your hands beneath where your legs emerged from your underwear, tracing the stretch marks there across the tops of your thighs.

“These too. Beautiful.” He answered and began kissing across them. Tears started to prick the corners of your eyes, and you sniffled a bit. He raised his head from your thighs and crawled atop your body, his face right above yours. He took one of his hands and tangled his fingers into your hair, his palm resting on your cheek. With his other, he grabbed one of yours and squeezed. “God baby, you are so fucking sexy. I love you so much.” With that, he took your lips between his.

As the kissing became more heated, he licked a stripe across your bottom lip, silently requesting access. You parted your lips further for him, and he graciously accepted, his tongue dancing with yours as you let out a quiet moan. He moaned back, stroking your cheek lightly and tangling his fingers further into your hair. With your free hand, you began gently running it up and down his back, before stopping at his neck and latching onto his locks of hair resting there.

You gave his hair a little tug, and with that he let out a groan and began kissing and nibbling all over your neck and up to your earlobe, biting lightly. He pulled away from you slowly, stopping when his face hovered above yours, and could gaze into your eyes.

“Baby, can I keep showing you how beautiful you are?” he asked, pupils blown wide with love and lust. You could only nod. With your permission, he began kissing between your breasts, snaking his hands behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra. Now that they were freed, he paid special attention to them. He rolled one of your nipples between his fingertips as he licked circles around the other, and bit down lightly. “Been staring at your boobs all night, baby. Fuck, I couldn’t wait to have them in my mouth.” He said between laps of his tongue.

Once he was satisfied with the attention he had given them, he licked a trail from between them, and down until he met the band of your panties. He looked up to into your eyes, silently asking for permission. You gave him a subtle nod, and with that, he quickly pulled them down your legs.

He started slow, kissing all over the top of your pelvis. He left little bites across your thighs, as he slowly brought a finger up between your folds, but never entering you. When you were sufficiently writhing and moaning, he slowly slid a finger into your entrance as he licked a slow circle around your hardened clit. On instinct, you bucked up into his mouth. He used his free hand to press down on your pelvic bone, pushing you back down into the bed. He continued to lap and suck on your clit, as he added another finger and slowly fucked them in and out of you. You let out a breathy moan at the sensations.

“Baby,” he began as he removed his lips from your clit, never ceasing the fucking of his fingers. You looked down at him, the sight you were met with enough to make you gasp, as his face was already covered in your juices. “You are a fucking goddess. You taste amazing” he finished, as he began sucking on your clit again, causing you to let out a guttural moan. You watched as he licked down to where his fingers were fucking you, licking up your juices and moaning himself as he tasted more of you. He began to pump his fingers faster, as he added pressure to your clit with his tongue, licking across it, up and down, in time with his fingers. You could feel yourself begin to tighten around his fingers, clenching each time he would thrust them back into you. You were a writhing mess beneath him, squirming and groaning with each movement of his. With his free hand, he grabbed one of yours and you squeezed it tight.

“Come on angel, I know you’re so close. You deserve this. Cum for me, baby.” You let out a sob as he sucked hard on your clit, his tongue circling it. “I feel you baby, you’re getting so tight on my fingers.” He talked you through it as you gasped and moaned. “That’s it baby, yes, yes,” he urged as you let out a scream. “Come on baby, cum. Cum all over my face, baby. Yes, there you go” he praised as the breath left your lungs and your vision went white. You squeezed your thighs together, trapping his hand inside of you as he continued to fuck you through it. “Good girl, that’s so good. You did amazing, angel.” He placed a kiss to your clit as he removed his fingers.

Jake crawled back up your body and immediately kissed you with all the passion in the world. You could taste yourself on him as he lapped into you, both of you moaning in sync. “God, baby, that was so beautiful. You came so beautifully for me.” He praised between kisses. He pulled away and stared into your eyes with so much adoration, it made you tear up again. “God, Y/N, I love you so much.”

You reached a hand up and caressed his face. “I love you too” you replied as a tear left your eye. You reached both hands down and began tugging on the waistband of his briefs, his hardened cock springing free from its confines as you pulled them down his hips. He pulled them off the rest of the way and lined himself up with you.

You stared into each other’s eyes as he entered you slowly, both of you groaning as he filled you up. Once he bottomed out, he grabbed one of your hands and laced your fingers together, and brought his other hand up to your cheek. “I love you, so fucking much, beautiful girl.” He smiled as you sniffled, your eyes never leaving his. “You are everything to me, Y/N. I’ll show you every day. You are an angel. Fucking gorgeous.”

You blinked as tears escaped, cascading down your cheeks as you smiled at him. “I love you, too.” You answered. He placed a kiss to your lips, full of passion and intensity. When he pulled away, you both smiled at each other, your gazes never leaving each other’s, as he slowly began to thrust in and out of you.

He leaned down and began kissing you again, both of you moaning as the kisses grew sloppier along with his thrusts. You were squeezing each other’s hands and using your free hands to tangle them in each other’s hair. In between each thrust and kiss, Jake was filling your ears with praises and adoration. He repeated over and over how much he loved you and how beautiful you are like a mantra, both of you moaning as he hit the spot deep inside you, his rhythm picking up slightly.

It wasn’t long before you were clenching around him, as he whispered, “God, you’re so fucking sexy when you cum around me”, your climax washing over you in waves of pleasure as he continued making love to you. As you cried out, he spilled into you, groaning your name.

He kissed your cheeks, your hairline, your nose, and your eyelids as they closed. He never let go of your hand as he kissed your lips again.

He pulled away so his face hovered above yours again. “I love you, so much, my beautiful baby.”

You caressed his cheek and he leaned into your touch, his eyes not leaving yours. “I love you, Jake. Thank you so much.”

He turned his head slightly and placed a kiss to your palm. He got up slowly and went to the bathroom and came back with a warm washcloth. He knelt between your legs and cleaned himself off of you, placing a chaste kiss on each thigh, and just above your bellybutton.

After he deposited the cloth into the hamper, he climbed back into bed with you, both of your rolling onto your sides to face each other. You were both so spent, there were no words left to say, anything you could speak being said with your actions. He kissed your forehead, and then placed a light kiss to each of your closed eyelids. You fell asleep facing him, in each other’s arms, legs intertwined as he stroked your back lightly. -fin.

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #sam kiskza #danny wagner #jake kiszka x reader #gvf fic #greta van fic #greta van fleet fanfiction #my asks #greta van fleet fic #gvf fanfiction #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka imagine #jake kiszka fluff #jake gvf #greta van fleet smut #greta van smut

[sunshinegremlin]

Just noticed tonight that I have a few stretch marks on my thighs, and they're so cute!! If you have stretch marks too, look at us!!! So cute!!! They're beautiful stripes that show that our bodies are alive and ever-changing and growing, just like us.

#not to mention they shine under light which i just think is the cutest #thry make me happy even if society wants to tell me theyre not suppose to #i do fit the beauty standards so i definitely still have heavy privilege but my body changed this past year and my body is just showing me #how much ive grown through the past year! i think thats really cute #and if you have lots of stretch marks then omg youre so cute i just know it!! little stripes that show how your body loves taking care of u! #theyre completely normal and i cant wait to collect more bc they just show that my body takes care of me and changes as i need it to #if my privilege has blinded me to something in this post PLS LET ME KNOW so i can remove this and change my viewpoint #just thought id make a little post about how my new stretch marks make me happy and that there are ppl out there who will love yours too 💛

[2jaeh]

Bubble ♡︎ | Na Jaemin

Genre : Fluff humor

You’re subscribed to Jaemins bubble, excited just like every other fan to recieve his message for today until his new messages don’t seem like the others.....

-—————————————————————————

“What’s taking so long ?” You stared blankly at the LYSN* app while stretching your legs onto your leather couch.

You switched over to the Twitter app and scrolled through your timeline, briefly reading through whatever was the latest topic on nctzen Twitter. One tweet caught your attention which made you chuckle out loud

Nananotifs: “I’m pretty sure Haechan finally threw Jaemin’s phone out of the dorm window bc.......”

All Nanadoongies gathered on Twitter to complain about the absence of Jaemin especially since he was the only one who hadnt reposted Chenle’s beloved pup Daegal.

You sighed and switched back to the LYSN app and noticed you were able to send one more message to Jaemin before the app blocks you off until he sends a new message.

Y/n: nana I miss you please say something

JAEMIN: y/n did you eat today ? I’ve missed you!

Your eyes widened at the immediate message you received from your ult. Was is coincidental ? Ofcourse it was, they don’t get notifications from fan messages do they ?

You immediately switched over to Twitter already seeing the bubble update account sharing Jaemins new message along with the entire timeline screaming over his activity.

~boominana: “how dare he act so normal I’m gonna cry !!!!”

~jaeminjenos: “post a selfie Jaemin don’t be shy”

~dreamies023: “he’s probably busy guys let him post when he wants to”

The last account was right. Jaemin was probably so busy. It was nice that he still found time out of his schedule to message nctzens and that’s what you loved most about him.

Y/n: Jaemin you’re stressing everyone out on Twitter lol let us know you’re doing ok we love you !

JAEMIN: am I ? :/

Was it a delayed message ? You shook your head and decided it was probably just another glitch on the app.

Y/n: yes stop ghosting us !

JAEMIN: ghosting ? ㅋㅋㅋ so dramatic

You froze. There was absolutely no way that from the tons of messages he would be recieving right now that yours would be the one he read and responded to.

The interaction made your heart race and quickly switch over to Twitter, it was probably chaos right now wondering what Jaemins messages could mean.

Silence.

Everyone on the timeline moved on from Jaemins first message and there were no updates on the messages you had just received from him.

PING!

JAEMIN: y/n ~ are you not going to answer me ? How am I ghosting you :(

This could not be real. You felt a lump in your throat as you checked over your other bubble subscriptions which all seemed fine except for his. You had no idea how to feel or what to do.

Y/N: this is weird. Send me a selfie so I know you’re actually replying to me and not a bot -_-

About 15 minutes went by and you stared at the open chat. He had read your message but there was no reply.

“Humh it was a bot after all” you huffed, about to close the app when your phone pinged and you saw Jaemins name pop up.

A voice note.

“Hey y/n, I hope I’m saying your name correctly hehe So long story short I think the chat glitched and your name and profile pic added itself to my own bubble. Weird right ? Mark Hyung told me I should send a voice note because it will make you believe me a bit more and .....well we would know if you posted on Twitter which CANNOT happen hahaha you understand right ?”

What was happening right now.

You pinched yourself to make sure you didn’t accidentally fall asleep on the couch and start having a very eerie realistic dream.

JAEMIN: I know you’re shocked rn but I really enjoy reading your replies haha it was the best part of my day and well I couldn’t help myself today. I wanted to tease you lol

Y/N: wait so how long has this “glitch” happened for ?

JAEMIN: hmmm....about a month now I think...after you renewed your account I think hehe

Y/N: what ??? Omg I’m so embarrassed......

JAEMIN: there’s nothing to be embarrassed about trust me. I’ve read everything czennies have sent me haha I find it amusing.

You exhaled deeply and scrolled through some of the messages you have sent him during this month and thankfully none of them were cringeworthy.

Y/N: so...now what? Should I speak to app support and fix this....unsubscribe or something....

JAEMIN: LOL youre really funny. Imagine finding out you can speak to someone from your fav idol group and you want to call tech support ...LOL so funny Mark Hyung is laughing

You felt your cheeks heat up at the image of Na Jaemin and Mark Lee laughing at your messages.

JAEMIN: please don’t be embarrassed y/n ! I only did this bc well I have your profile now and you’re really cute.

This was NOT happening.

Y/N: Uh......

JAEMIN: what do you have a boyfriend ? ....

Y/N: no I don’t I’m just....it’s nothing never mind

JAEMIN: LOL so cute! So do you have Kakao ?

Y/N: you want my number ? Why ? .....

JAEMIN: to talk to you obviously! What if they fix the glitch and I’ll never be able to talk to you again..

Jaemin wanted to talk to you. He was trusting you wholeheartedly to add him on his private account. Did he have an idea of the kind of person you were ? How could he possibly risk his career to a nobody ?

Y/N: I do have kakao it’s YN_0023.... Jaemin I won’t say anything but are you sure this is okay ?

JAEMIN: yeah I’ll video call you and we can talk about it ...adding you now. Clear this chat after you get my text!

VIDEOCHAT ?

Is he absolutely insane ? Maybe the voice note was fabricated. Maybe this was some weirdo trying to prey on innocent fangirls. Maybe -

Nana00: heyyyyyyyyy :)

Y/n: hi Uhm is this ...Jaemin ...

Nana00: yup (inserts a pic with your username on a sheet of paper)

Y/n: holy shiiiiit

By now you were already pacing across your entire apartment trying to come to terms with what was going on in your life right now. It became a force of habit to constantly check Twitter and make sure by chance somebody mentioned a glitch of some sort or SM announcing that the app is under construction or SOMETHING.

‘This couldn’t be real’ you thought.

Nana00: lol you’re so funny so are you free to video call ?

Y/n: Uhm......are you sure that’s a good idea ?

Nana00: yeah I mean firstly I would like to know you’re real too lol and also I want to know if I can trust you with this information.....it’ll be quick I promise

Y/n: well....okay give me 10minutes please

Nana00: lol sure :)

After scrambling to your bathroom to make yourself a little presentable as if you just won a video call event for your ult, you finally set on a laidback look so it doesn’t look too obvious that you put a little effort in.

You decided to prop your phone on the mini tripod on your desk so the lighting from your bedroom window in front of you bounced off your skin perfectly.

Y/n: okay I’m ready. I’m a little shy so.....sorry if I can’t talk much...

Nana00: you don’t sound shy when you talk about me on bubble hehe ;)

You buried your face in your hands and groaned. The embarrassment was still eating at you and Jaemin was not letting you live those messages down.

Ring Ring Ring......

You saw your phone light up and Jaemins kakao profile picture fill your screen.

With a shaky finger you press the recieve button and watch as the pixelated video start to clear up, presenting a very smiley Na Jaemin.

“Hi there” he said in his high voice and a bright smile on his face. He seemed to be sitting at his desk as well, hair still wet from either a rainy day or a shower.

“Uhm hi” you replied shyly and waved awkwardly.

“So this is the face behind the bubble profile huh”

“I guess so” you replied. It seemed as though you were calm and collected but on the inside you were screaming. Screaming that you were conversing with one of your favourite people right now.

“Good! Sorry to ask this again but did you clear the chat on bubble ? We have to be careful with that” he said in a concerned voice.

“Yeah I did after you sent the pic I finally realized it was definitely you so I went ahead and did it” you quickly said, kinda embarrassed by how fast your words came out.

Jaemin chuckled.

“You still doubted me after the voice note?”

“Just a little”

“You’re so adorable it’s ridiculous you know that ?” He gleamed and neared the screen, his deep brown eyes focusing on yours “ where are you from y/n?”

“Well I live in a lot of places but my hometown is _______. I learnt most of my korean while studying here in Osaka weird enough” you shrugged.

You moved to Japan for your first year of university since it was where you sort of grew up as a kid and took up extra korean classes once settled in the city.

“Osaka ?? Wow I love Japan I can’t wait to go back! Well now I kinda have an excuse to go” he winked sending your heart into a frenzy.

You giggled shyly “is this the fan service everybody talks about ?

“Fan service is a job....this is different I’m sure you know that y/n haha”

“All of this because of my profile picture ?”

“Well” Jaemin bit down on his lip as his eyebrows turned into a frown

“I obviously saw your pic and thought you were very cute but a big part of it was your messages and how you would always message me when I most needed it.”

“My messages are very random” you chuckled.

“Still made me smile throughout my day and that means a lot” he said and ran his fingers through his hair “so it’s kinda selfish of me to say, but id like for you to update me...personally”

“Na Jaemin are you asking me to be your own personal bubble account ?” You raised your eyebrow.

“Yeah pretty much” he shrugged “I’ll repay the subscription when I see you Osaka.”

#Jaemin au #Nct fanfic #nct dream #na jaemin #NCT fluff #NCT scenario #Jaemin fluff #Dreamies #nct dream imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop au #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #nct #nct x reader

[btschooseafic]

Hey you, what’s your dream?

Pairing: platonic!oc x ot7

Details: manager!oc, predebut/idolverse, partial BTS World!verse

Summary: Debut day!

Warnings: This is a fictional story based on real events. The characters presented here are not the same as their real life counterparts. (TW: panic attack, dieting mentions) [Masterlist]

Track 22: Debut!

Started From the Bottom- Drake

“Started from the bottom now we’re here

Started from the bottom now my whole team fuckin’ here.”

Debut Showcase, Gangnam Ilchi Hall-June 12, 2013

“Aviva-yah,” Yoongi called. Aviva looked up with her camera, only to be faced with Yoongi snapping a picture of her with his. He looked down at his camera and grinned. “Looks good.”

Aviva looked him over. “So do you. I really like the skirt.”

Yoongi did a little twirl. “Hip hop!”

“Ah… I’m so nervous, I’m stiff as a board,” Jin muttered.

“Want a massage, hyung?” Jungkook offered. Jin blinked at him.

“Seriously? Yeah, that would be great.” Jin sighed happily as Jungkook massaged his shoulders. Aviva walked over, getting a shot of them. “You’re good at this. How come you don’t do it more often?”

“Cause this is a special occasion,” Jungkook told him. “Don’t get used to it, hyung.”

“…I’ll pay you in food,” Jin offered.

“…I’ll consider it,” Jungkook said. Aviva laughed. They glanced at her.

“Yah, go away, camera-ninja,” Jin said.

The boys preformed Bulletproof Pt. 2, No More Dream, and Like to round it out. In-between changing their outfits, Aviva got a quick word with Yoongi and Hoseok.

“How’s it going out there?” She asked them. Yoongi and Hoseok looked at each other.

“Good~?” Hoseok said.

“Good~” Yoongi agreed. Namjoon stepped up behind them, putting his hands on their shoulders. Hoseok clutched his chest as Yoongi plastered on an overly surprised face.

“What’re you guys doing?” Namjoon asked.

“Talking about how great you guys are,” Aviva told him.

“Yah!” Namjoon flushed. “It’s time to get back on stage!” He pointed his finger in the air. “Let’s go!”

Afterwards, Aviva stood off to the side, watching the boys get interviewed about their first performances.

Yoongi spoke about how they were more authentic than other idol groups doing hip hop. Namjoon spoke about wanting to reach out to teenagers and get them to think about what their dreams were, and wanting to win a Best New Artist Award.

At the end of the night Aviva presented them with a custom-made cake. “Sorry I didn’t bake this one,” she said. “But I saw an ad for this bakery, and I thought it could be cool.”

“It is!” Jimin assured her. “Your cakes are probably the tastiest, but this one is very pretty.” Aviva clenched her fist.

“I’m going to improve my cake decorating skills.”

“Ah, that’s not what I…” Jimin smiled at her determined expression. “Okay, I can’t wait to see what you come up with—shall we eat?”

M!Countdown Debut! June 13th 2013

At their debut M!Countdown stage, Aviva was carrying around her camera again, to get behind the scenes footage.

Joonho and his assistants were working hard to mark sure every item of clothing was perfectly place. Jihye and Eunjung were chatting as they waited for their turn. However, Aviva could see that Eunjung had already gotten to Namjoon earlier this morning with an important addition to his hairstyle.

Aviva laughed, stretching her arm up and tracing the letters RM that had been shaved into the side of his head. “I haven’t seen this yet…”

“What? You don’t like it?” Namjoon said nervously.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “It’s just… I wonder what you’ll think about this style when you look back at it. Fashion is so changeable…”

“All the more reason to enjoy it now!” Hoseok said, popping up behind them, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and the other around Namjoon’s back.

“You would say that,” Aviva said, flicking the spiky mask.

He laughed. “You really like this thing, huh?” He struck a dramatic pose. “What I do for the sake of art!” She and Namjoon both laughed along with him.

Jungkook and Jimin walked over. Jimin spotted the camera and swerved slightly to sit on a nearby bench.

“I’m going to practice,” Namjoon said, turning towards the wall and taking a few deep breathes before launching into one of his verses. It was the quick one.

Hoseok mimicked him jokingly. Jungkook watched and then did the same. Hoseok laughed.

Namjoon frowned, pointing at Jungkook. “I hate this kid.”

“No, you don’t, Namjoon-ah,” Aviva said easily.

“If you’re gonna copy me, try and do it properly, at least,” he challenged. Hoseok shrugged. Jungkook tried. “Not similar!”

“He can’t do it so well when he’s under the spotlight like that,” Hoseok told Aviva.

“Well, Namjoon-ah does have his own style of rap,” Aviva thought. “You should rap like yourselves, not like him. That’s what makes you all special.”

“Aw.” Hoseok poked her on the cheek. “Cutie, manager-nim.”

“…Can we move on?” Aviva said. “Your audience doesn’t want to hear about me, they want to hear about you.”

Jimin quickly rapped the verse, blushing when they turned to him.

“Ah, sorry,” Jimin said in English for some reason.

“No, it was cool,” Namjoon told him, patting him on the shoulder. “You’re the coolest.”

Readier, the boys loosened up by seeing who could rap the fastest in English. Then Namjoon moved on to walking through their performance. Aviva could see the maknae line’s eyes glazing over as he spoke. Taehyung spotted her and blew her a kiss. Jimin noticed and laughed quietly. He moved over to her.

“Shouldn’t you be listening to your leader?” Aviva teased.

Jimin grinned sheepishly. “Ah, well… I thought maybe our fans could use an update on what we’re doing? That’s who you’re recording this for, right? Our fans?” He thought. Aviva nodded. “Right now we’re in the waiting room.” Jimin pulled at Jungkook’s arm. “Jungkook-ah.” Jungkook turned around and stepped closer to them. “The camera’s on, see?” Jungkook bent down slightly.

“Yah, you don’t have to bend down,” Aviva said. “I’m not that short…” Jungkook laughed. “What will you do next, Jiminie?”

“Next we will…”

“Lose weight!” Jungkook said. Aviva frowned.

“Eh? Why~”

Jungkook laughed. “Stop with the aegyo, noona, you’re too old for that!” He turned back to Namjoon, walking closer over to him to listen.

“…Jungkookie’s a little grumpy today, isn’t he?” Jimin thought.

“Nervous?” Aviva wondered.

“I am,” Jimin admitted.

“I meant Kook... but, yeah, probably everyone is. I mean, I’m nervous and I’m not even performing!”

Jimin grimaced.

“Namjoon-ah, Jungook-ah, have you changed your socks?” One of the assistants asked. The boys broke up to continue getting ready.

“Well… we’re going to lose weight now, I guess,” Jimin said. “Yes, going to lose weight diligently. So I can show you great abs.” He looked down at himself.

“Your abs are already great,” Aviva told him honestly. Hoseok popped up behind Jimin, his plainer mask hanging over his chin.

“What are you doing?” He wondered.

Jimin blinked at him. “What?”

“Jiminie’s giving the fans an update!” Aviva told Hoseok.

“Right now we’re changing into our cool outfits before rehearsal,” Jimin told her and the camera. He wiggled his many ringed fingers at her.

“Bling~Bling~” Hoseok said. He held up his own gloved hand. “It says Bangtan Sonyeondan on it!”

“They are cool gloves,” Aviva agreed. “But you’re interrupting Jiminie.”

“Yeah, don’t interrupt me while I’m speaking to the camera, hyung!” Jimin said. “I get…” He glanced at Aviva and then looked away from her, staring at his feet. “…Shy.” He laughed nervously.

“Why?” Hoseok wondered. “It’s just Avi-yah.”

“It’s fine.” Aviva switched off her camera. “We can take a break.”

“Thanks, noona.” Jimin smiled at her.

“Cookie?” Yoongi offered, holding a small snack bag out to them.

“Ah, no thanks, hyung,” Jimin said. “I’m still dieting, so…”

Yoongi shrugged, holding it out to Aviva.

She took one. “Thanks.”

“You know, your shyness is cute, but you have to get used to the cameras if we’re going to debut now,” Hoseok said to Jimin.

Jimin frowned. “Yeah, well, how do you suggest I do that, Hobi-hyung?”

“Hmm…” Hoseok grinned. “I dare you to flash your abs to the camera.”

“Eh?” Jimin said. “Why?”

“Why?” Aviva agreed.

“Well, he’s going to be doing it on stage all the time now, so it’d be good practice, right?” He figured.

Jimin’s brow furrowed. “He’s got a point.”

“Yes, but the internet is forever,” Aviva reminded him. “If I post this…”

Jimin let out a breath. “Let’s do it.” He gripped the edge of his shirt. “Film me, noona.”

Soon they moved upstairs to the stage for the rehearsal. She got a shot of them moving up the stairs. Jungkook spotted her and waved.

“Ah, manager-noona, when did you get here?”

The other members shot her peace signs as they passed.

They moved straight from the rehearsal into the pre-recording for No More Dream. Aviva watched from the side and then ran around the corner to meet them as they exited the stage.

Aviva filmed them walking off stage, down the hall. The assistants were waiting with tissues to blot at their sweaty faces.

“This leather…” Namjoon muttered, pulling at his shirt, which was sticking to him with sweat. She switched her camera off, letting it hang off her neck. “Honestly.”

“Bend down.” She motioned at him. He did and she carefully dabbed at his face with a tissue, not wanting to ruin the makeup artist’s hard work. “There’s water and towels in the dressing room.”

“Good,” Yoongi said as he passed her. “It’s hot.”

Aviva froze, spotting Jin crying as he stepped off the stage.

“Oppa…” She frowned, noting one of the other cameramen was following him closer to get a shot. She followed them too. “Yah, give him some space.” The camera man hesitated. Aviva flashed her employee ID, and a glare at him. The camera man waved his hand and retreated out of the room. Jin was surrounded by assistants who were wiping his face and fanning him. Jimin and Namjoon were hovering, watching him concernedly. “Hi, Jinie-oppa. It’s okay to cry, you know.”

“But, I’m the oldest," he choked out. "I'm not supposed to..."

“You may be the oldest, but you also have the most sensitive heart,” she thought. “It��s a curse and a blessing.”

“I need to… get ready… for the… performance.”

She frowned at his ragged breathing.

“Seokjin-oppa.” She leaned up, brushing his hair away from his face. “Can you breath with me? Copy my breathing. Come on, slowly in… and out… good job.”

“Sorry,” he muttered, as his breathing settled.

“Hey, it’s a big moment, it makes sense to have big feelings, you don’t need to apologize, okay?”

“Okay.” He smiled slightly. “Guess I’ll say thank you, then.” He bent and kissed her forehead. “Thank you, manager-nim.”

“You two are being very sweet, but you should know, Avi, that he’s crying because his pants kept falling down,” Namjoon teased.

“Yah!” Jin protested, his face turning pink. Namjoon laughed as Jin got him into a headlock and rubbed roughly at his head.

“Ah, watch it—Eunjung-ssi is going to yell at you!”

“Eh? I thought it was because he made a mistake?” Jimin said to Aviva. Jin glared at him. Jimin patted him on the arm. “Don’t cry, hyung, it makes me want to cry too.”

Jin rejoined the others to do their huddle and cheer before they stepped back out onto stage to preform Bulletproof Pt. 2.

Jin waved at her as he passed. Yoongi gave her two thumbs up. Namjoon flashed her a peace sign.

After the performance, Aviva was waiting for them again near the door.

“We did well!” Jin said, hugging her. She laughed.

“Ah, oppa, I’m filming!”

“Our first broadcast recording!” Jin hugged Hoseok.

“First success!” Hoseok did a double fist pump.

“Oh yeah!” Namjoon echoed him as Jin moved on to hug Yoongi. “We’ll do even better on tomorrow’s stage.”

“We will do better tomorrow,” Jin agreed, though he was more subdued than the other two. He smiled weakly. “I have confidence for tomorrow.” Aviva couldn’t find the words. Instead she reached up and brushed his hair out of his face again.

Music Bank, No More Dream Debut!- June 14th 2013

The next day during rehearsal, Yoongi showed off his shirt with his stage name on it to the camera.

“I’m Suga, you see that?”

Aviva nodded. “Otherwise I wouldn’t know who you are.”

“Yah, you brat, it’s for the dry rehearsal,” he said. “You know that.”

Taehyung laughed behind them. Yoongi made a silly face at him. He laughed harder.

Aviva went out into the seats out a couple rows away from the stage to film their rehearsal.

“Yah, noona, don’t you have confidence in me?” Jimin whined after they finished the rehearsal and gathered back in the dressing room. “I know I made a small mistake with the kick, but I promise I’ll practice—and I always get the jump right every time. Every time!”

Aviva was taking a break from filming to charge her camera.

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

“The part when I jump over Hobi, I saw how nervous you got!”

Aviva blushed slightly. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Jiminie, I just… you know I worry.”

“Then don’t watch that part, close your eyes,” Yoongi suggested.

She frowned.

“I can’t do that. I have to support you guys, and get behind the scenes footage, and—“

“Okay, okay.” He waved his hand. “It was just a suggestion.”

She chewed at her lip. “I like the thing with the hat though. It’s cute.”

“I’m not sure cute was what Hobi was aiming for, but I’ll take it!” Jimin said.

Aviva got her camera back in time to film Jimin and Yoongi practicing their dance moves. Taehyung joined them.

“We have to do well,” he told Aviva seriously. “There’s only one chance.” She tilted her head.

“One chance for…?”

He blinked at her. “There’s only, one chance~” He started to sing.

She nodded. “One Shot, B.A.P.”

“Ding, ding, ding—correct!”

Meanwhile, Jungkook trying some of Namjoon’s throat spray.

He coughed. “Are you supposed to drink water with this?”

“Hmmm?” Namjoon looked at him sleepily.

Aviva turned to get shots of the other members. Jin spotted her and waved with the sleeves of his leather jacket, which he was wearing backwards. She laughed.

“Why are you being so cute?”

He pouted at her. “Are you suggesting I’m not usually cute?”

“You’re not usually this shy,” she thought.

“Ah, I did a shy introduction, so I’m still shy now,” he explained.

She nodded. “Well, that’s okay, oppa, I like both the shy and confident versions of you,” she said honestly. He blushed. “Where did Kook go? He was just here...” He laughed.

“Ah, yeah, he’s fallen asleep again.”

Jungkook had almost passed out in his chair.

“Drink,” she ordered him, handing him a water bottle as one of the stagehands fanned him.

“What?” He smiled at her, dazed. “Oh, manager-noona, hi.”

She frowned. “You need to eat something, get your blood sugar up.”

“But I’m on a diet~” Jungkook said. “You can’t make me~”

Aviva sighed. “What about some juice?”

He blinked and nodded. “Yes please.”

“I’ll get it for him,” Jin offered, pulling his jacket on the right way around now. Aviva glanced over at Jimin, who was still practicing.

“Get one for Jiminie too, please.”

Jin nodded.

“One juice for the maknae and one for the Bagel Man, got it.”

Aviva squinted after him.

“Why is Jiminie a bagel?”

“It’s a combo between baby face and glamorous body,” Jungkook explained. He smiled. “Namjoon-hyung told me I’ll probably be like that someday.” His brow furrowed. “Hmm, where did Namjoon-hyung go?”

“I’ll look for him.”

She found him sitting on a chair in the hallway, his head in his hands. He looked like The Thinker, except even stiffer than stone. She switched off her camera, having a feeling he wouldn’t want the fans seeing him like this.

“Namjoon-ah…” Aviva punched lightly at his back. “You’re so tense. Come on, man.”

He squinted at her.

“If that’s an attempt at a massage, you’re failing.”

“No, I’m just hitting you.”

“Oh. You’re doing great then.”

She sighed, laying her hands flat and smoothing them over his shoulders, kneading at the tense muscles.

He made a bit of a happy noise.

“Better?” She asked in his ear. He jolted and then stiffened again. “Sorry.” She withdrew from him.

“No! I…” He turned, his face red. “It’s fine. That was… nice. Thanks. You, ah, weren’t filming that, were you?”

She shook her head. “I do still need some more footage though.”

“You’ll find it,” Namjoon said confidently. “You’re good at this.”

“You’re so amazing, Syub Syub,” Hoseok was saying to Yoongi back inside the room. “You actually danced.” Yoongi turned, spotting Aviva with the camera.

“I usually don’t show off my dancing,” he explained to any future viewers.

“You’re so cool,” Hobi praised. Yoongi smiled awkwardly. Hoseok turned to Tae. “V-ssi, you should show us too.”

Taehyung blinked. “Show what?”

Hoseok hummed one line of the song. “That part.”

Tae did a confused little head wiggle for the camera.

It was cute, but awkward.

“The truth is, V-ah doesn’t do that part,” Yoongi told the camera.

“Oh?” Hoseok smirked.

Yoongi squeezed Taehyung’s shoulder.

“You don’t need to know that part. It’s not yours.”

Hoseok shot an apologetic look at Tae, who was frowning, and then attacked him with a hug, biting his shoulder for some reason.

“Ah, hyung, you’re not a vampire!” Tae said, laughing.

“You’re so cute I just wanna eat you up!” Hoseok told him. Taehyung ran away from him, hiding behind Aviva.

“Yah, leave Taehyung-ah alone,” Jin said, stopping his neck stretches to glare at Hoseok.

“Are you okay?” Aviva asked Yoongi as Tae leaned on her. “How’s your shoulder?” He frowned at the camera. “Ah, sorry, I can edit that out.”

“Please do. The shoulder’s fine,” he told her. “Right now, I’m a little nervous for the pre-recording. I feel dazed, but I’m keeping myself on my toes.” Hoseok and Jin popped in and out from behind him making faces. Tae flashed a peace sign in front of the camera. Yoongi completely ignored them. “We’ll work hard. Please watch over us.” He smiled, just a tinge of annoyance on his face.

“But you’ve been great in front of the camera,” she told him. “I really appreciate it, since it gives me more material to pick from… but don’t force yourself, okay?”

“I’m not,” he told her.

“Swag!” Namjoon called out as he passed the camera, ready to preform. Aviva tried not to laugh. Yoongi bowed slightly. Hoseok and Jimin flashed peace signs.

Aviva watched from the side, grinning as girls shrieked at Jimin’s abs reveal, and cheered at Jimin’s leap.

“We finished it!” Namjoon said as he came off stage, smiling in relief.

“Ah, that was scary!” Yoongi said, rubbing his chest.

Jungkook pronounced it, “So-so.”

“The end!” Hoseok said, flashing a peace sign at the camera.

“Hi.” Jin waved shyly. “We did well, I think.”

“The end!” Tae said, flashing a peace sign. Aviva laughed.

“Hobi just did that!”

Tae pouted.

In the dressing room, Aviva looked at Jimin.

“Have you been avoiding me?”

“Not you, necessarily…” He eyed the camera and stepped closer, pointing. “That red light scares me the most. It makes me wonder what I should say.”

“Just be yourself,” Aviva told him. “If I record anything you’re uncomfortable with sharing, I can always edit it out. I promise not to post anything you don’t want me to.”

Jimin smiled, stroking the lens like it was the face of his lover.

“You’re a good girl, huh?”

“I won’t be if you keep touching the lens!”

He laughed.

Across the room, Jin was making faces at Aviva, passing his hand over his face, and changing his expression dramatically. A sleepy Taehyung was sitting next to him as he got his makeup fixed, clearly not amused.

“Wow, I’m so nervous,” Jungkook said as they headed back towards the stage for the live broadcast.

“You got this!” Aviva told him.

During the performance, Aviva was out in the audience again, catching shots of the fans cheering, especially when the boys flashed their abs, and got into their dance solos.

Afterwards, the boys made more faces at her as they came off stage. The photographer had disappeared somewhere, so Aviva was put in charge of taking the after-performance group photos for the fans. Tae and Jimin were reaching across the group to hold hands, as Hoseok bit down on Jimin’s head for some reason.

“Hobi!” Aviva called out to him. “Do I need to get you a teething toy?” The boys laughed, including Hoseok.

“Ah, we are born in the year of the dog, after all! Come play with us!” He walked over and grabbed her hand, waving at one of the assistants. “Hi, hi, noona, can you get a picture of us with our manager too?” He patted Aviva on her head, ignoring her protests. “We won’t post it anywhere, so just stay still and let us commemorate this moment. You’re part of it too, you know.”

#bts #fanfiction #idolverse #ot7 #manager!oc #bts x oc #ot7 x oc #bts predebut #bts fanfiction

[lambourngb]

Aaaaaany chance of a little tiny sneak peek at your Lost Decade prequel to Last Year’s Wishes?

For you, anything!

I’ve shared the first bit before, but here’s more of Michael’s first day as a rider, other than a laborer.

**

This was his third season at Fosters Homestead Ranch and Michael’s first off of the punishing duty of the “fence and feed” crew. 

Repairing breaks in over 100,000 acres of fence line or hauling endless fifty pound bags of feed for ranch’s dairy operation, had lent Michael strong wiry-bound muscle and burned his skin to a golden brown. Mindless, back-breaking labor had banked the anger that burned inside him, leaving him numb and able to drift through spring, summer and fall without taking much notice of how his siblings were passing him by. Isobel was dating a newly hired lawyer at her father’s firm, Max was finishing off his AA in criminal justice, and Michael? 

His aspirations were more a little more earthbound for once and closer on the Maslow order of needs.

He had an eye on an Airstream at the Chaves County impound lot, sitting under bank-repossession. His greatest hope was that he could spend a winter in the safe confines of his own home, instead of squatting in empty houses that were under foreclosure. The silver lining of the housing market crash was that he had multiple choices for his lock-picking brain. It certainly beat camping at the Wash, the makeshift homeless encampment nestled on the banks of the Berrendo Riverbed.

If Michael could have a place to call home, maybe he could convince Alex to spend his holiday leave in Roswell. Maybe the idea of being together wouldn’t seem so impossible to them both. Maybe they could part with a wistful ‘see you next time’ instead of a stone-cold ‘this can’t happen again’. There was news at least that President Obama was working to change and remove the DADT policy. Maybe he could finally be what Alex wanted. 

I want to be with you.

The admission of a worried seventeen year old’s desire for him kept Michael going. He just needed to meet a few markers of progress, even if he was mired in Roswell to keep an eye on Isobel. Alex would be done with his service in another two years, and he could decide to come home to Roswell, despite his father being a homophobe. If Alex had somewhere to go home to, he might stay. Michael needed to be ready.

The ache that hope brought sliced straight through his carefully cultivated dulled feelings, dropping away apathy and leaving him raw for a moment. 

It was just a fresh thin layer of skin barely stretching over his heart as protection. This was how seeing Alex always left him, a newborn toddling through life without the calloused layers. Dice and sliced up by hope. Not seeing Alex was objectively worse. He was just a painted up corpse then, lying in repose while the world moved on. ‘Here lies a promising student, made of lost opportunities’.

Not lost though, actively forsaken. To protect Isobel. He was the architect of that choice, but at least she could live safely in the cover his lie built.

“Hey Curly Sue, you paying attention?” A loud, annoyed voice cracked across Michael’s attention, dispelling the thoughts of the past. 

Michael looked up at the foreman Paul Foster, the young grandson of the ranch owner and shaded his eyes with his left hand, “yes sir, sorry sir.”

The crowd of this year's labor force twittered softly around him. Most of the group were somewhat familiar to Michael, the typical migration of men who were only suited for outdoor work. Following work with the ever-changing seasons, instead of the toil of monotonous cubicles and repetitive memos. The young ones, new to ranching, worked their way through the shit jobs, sometimes literal shit jobs of mucking, to earn a path up the rungs of responsibility to the trusted, returning crop of herdsmen and horsemen. 

“Joe, here,” the foreman nodded to the head of the outriders, “thinks you’ve done enough time digging irrigation lines for the hay fields, and doing feed and fence work, that it’s time we put you on a horse.”

“Mr. Joe is dreamin’,” a voice called out, “look at that hand of his, how the hell is he gonna ride a horse with two fingers?”

Michael dropped his left hand abruptly, shoving the evidence into his pocket uselessly. It wasn’t new knowledge at the Fosters Ranch, his first months out of high school meant he had hauled fifty-pound grain bags on his shoulders while the crooked breaks healed enough for him to hold a pitchfork for stall cleaning. Some of the workers had protested that he had skipped the worst of the chore duty as a green ranch hand. 

Stubbornness kept Michael frozen in place, even as he wanted to slink away. He could do another year repairing fences in the sun, it wouldn’t make as much money as the riders did but it was a job he knew. He’d even grown accustomed to the soft foggy place his brain took him once the hammers started swinging to secure wire and boards. His sense of spatial awareness, sharp and alien in nature, had kept him from hurting himself as he had drifted away in the meditative sounds of thunk, thunk, thunk.

Still making less money was disappointing. His goal of buying the Airstream would need amendment, or a trip to a casino further out than the Mescalero Res. Perhaps north to Isleta Pueblo casino, he wasn’t known there.

“Michael will be a better rider than you assholes. That hand means he can’t ruin a horse's mouth.” 

The unexpected shock of hearing someone advocate for him jerked his wandering attention back again. The head outrider, Joe, was watching him in turn. Dark, kind eyes, familiar but in the face of a stranger, met his from under a black cowboy hat. The head rider ran his gaze up and down Michael’s shabby jeans and Max’s cast-off hiking boots, before his lined mouth smiled, “besides, you’re supposed to ride off with your legs and ass, not off your damn hands.”

There was a moment where Michael thought Joe was looking at him in a different expectation than just riding a horse. That spark of interest. Curiosity about a man and what he could with his hands and generous mouth. He wasn’t wholly unfamiliar with that type of appraisal, but the look disappeared too quickly for Michael to really categorize it. He was probably just lonely or used to seeing that in a set of dark eyes set on similarly molded features.

With that, Joe swept off his black cowboy hat to mop off the sweat from his tan skin marked with sun damage, before resetting it on his head. His words were clear and invited no argument, secure in the knowledge that Mr. Foster himself waited every spring in hope that he was returning to New Mexico after working the winter cattle season in Argentina. No one could ride a horse, handle a herd, or command the type of respect in men better than Joe did and everyone knew it.

“Well?” The foreman Paul prodded pointedly, “why are all of you just standin’ there? Go get yourself a horse so Joe here can teach you something before dinner time.”

The lucky ones, Michael included, that were selected to work the beef cattle this year, headed for the upper field that held the horses. The rest of the new greenhorns and returning laborers headed to the equipment sheds to outfit themselves for fence repairs, or worse, start the task of mucking out the dairy barns. 

Without realizing it, Michael found himself falling in step with Joe as they headed for the fenceline. It was uncharted ground for him, but gratitude was circling his throat and he felt like he needed to say something. “Mr. Garcia, ah-”

“It’s just Joe, although my id says Joseph. But no Mr. And don’t thank me, kid.” He slanted his eyes over to Michael, another swift once over, lingering longer on Michael’s shoes then over to where Michael’s hand was still hiding his jeans pocket. “I meant what I said, you’ll be fine to ride.”

“I know I will be, I just appreciate the chance and I won’t let you down.”

“We all deserve a chance, and I’ve seen you work here for the last few seasons, uncomplaining and quick to pick up a skill. I mean you looked like a sullen raincloud most of the time, but you worked hard. And no one has ever complained about your attitude other than your penchant to flirt in town on payday. And man, I was a young man once too, so more power to you,” Joe commented dryly. 

Once again, Michael felt a little warm hearing that he had been noticed, but he didn’t comment as Joe slowed to a stop as they reached the horse pasture. The fenceline was decorated with worn nylon halters and mis-matched colored lead ropes hanging off of every fence post. Michael squinted in the bright sunlight at the herd of grazing horses spotting shades of brown, black, grey and even dull gold in the green grass of the ten acre field. It was a familiar sight from past years, he used to take his lunch and sit under the trees just to watch the ranch horses enjoy the fresh shoots of grass.

He had been told that in past years, the Fosters had needed to drop large bales of hay in the fields to keep their hard working four-legged staff fed through the long summer months, but every year Michael had worked there, the grass had grown thick and plentiful.

“Take out that hand of yours, I want to see what I’m working with here.”

Well damn. It was one thing to know his hand and disability was something of an open secret at the ranch, and even to old man Sanders at the salvage lot, it was another to let someone examine it closely. Brief bed partners, mainly the female tourists that were drunk enough to find his advances charming but not so drunk they weren’t aware of what was on offer in regards to casual sex, were mainly too engrossed with his efforts at bringing them to orgasm to notice his left hand. Max and Isobel had noticed, but both had agreed that a doctor would bring too many questions.

Alex, of course, knew. Alex, who had spent two weeks chasing his own demons in Michael’s body over Christmas, had made an effort to hold and touch his hand but still his gaze had skittered away from the scars and evidence of Jesse Manes’s rage.

Swallowing hard, Michael pulled his hand from his pocket and offered it meekly. Joe in turn pulled off his work gloves with his teeth and cradled Michael’s hand between his bare, rough palms. 

“Make a fist for me?”

Michael’s thumb and forefinger easily tucked into his palm, while his middle, ring and pinky finger slowly, crookedly bent into an awkward fan pointing to his wrist unable to curl fully in a ball. 

Joe made a soft humming sound in his throat, before reaching for the lead rope from the fence post. “Okay, open up for me.”

A squirming feeling snaked down his spine at the command, but Michael obeyed again as Joe draped the shot of line across his palm. Slowly he wrapped the line in a firm loop, squeezing Michael’s fingers over it, his eyes intent on the flexibility of Michael’s grip. The tug of line around his hand and then wrist sent another shock of almost arousal. Michael inhaled sharply, as Joe looked up in question. 

“Feel that tension? You’ll never need more than that when you’re riding, unless something has gone horribly wrong, okay? Less is more. I can teach technique, but I can’t teach you feel. That’s something you have to find on your own?” 

Michael wet his lips, struggling to focus again on the instruction and nodded.

After a moment, Joe made another off-hand humming sound, and unwound the rope from Michael’s hand and wrist. The strange atmosphere broke as he slapped the halter and rope into Michael’s right hand, and pointed out to the field, “see that horse over there? The one with the white butt but brown body? That’s Rocky. He’ll be a good one for you to learn on. So go get him and we’ll get started.”

It was strange, Michael felt both hot and cold as he fumbled his grip on the halter. It was like surfacing from a deep dive in the lake, his ears almost wanted to pop and his lungs felt tight. He tucked those feelings away and ducked through the slats of the fenceline.

#prettier and younger but not any better off #prequel to Last Years Wishes #the making of Cowboy Michael #wip whine #aewriting

[planetjisungie]

jolie- l.mh (part 1)

characters; prince! mark, princess! reader ft. dreamies, yuta and taeyong

summary; when you turn 18, you have to marry the prince of the eastern kingdom to secure an alliance. but what happens when your natural immature and positive personality collides with his cold and negative one.

an; king mark lee needed an au all to himself because this boy deserves the whole world, lets not lie here. also like i love this picture and it sparks big prince energy or like nutcracker ballet energy. also me deciding after 2 days of wallowing in self pity about how i hate having longass posts so im putting it into parts

"y/n! wake up darling!" your mother shook your body awake, causing you to grumble and thrash around. you were just having a dream about this peculiar event of 2 people switching bodies after a handshake. it was rather odd yet entertaining.

"what" you throw your limbs out on the bed in a lazy attempt to stretch and let out a groan. youe mother sighed and stood back. "its your 18th birthday today, the maids have your dress"

ah. there it is. the day youve literally blocked from your mind because of how much you simply detested the idea. it was signed and agreed 6 years ago that you, princess of the southern kingdom, would marry a prince from the eastern kingdom. though you had never met either of the princes, you had heard plenty of rumours and tales, some you believed, some you did not.

you slowly climbed out of bed, staggering a little as you walked towards the maids for your dressing. you didn’t actually need them, unless you were supposed to wear the death trap which is labelled a corset, but your parents insisted on you having them. so, you naturally made friends with them to make it as least of a work space as possible.

"good morning yeonha, nari" you greeted them with a smile which they returned. just because you weren’t necessarily the happiest doesnt mean you should relay the feeling onto the poor maids, and your friends.

"morning princess" nari said, causing you to roll your eyes. yes, they still called you princess out of habit and you hated it. as soon as your brother becomes the king, the first thing you’re doing is making everyone call you by your first name (as your parents refuse to let that happen as of currently).

with a deep sigh, you allowed yourself to be dressed, the constricting corset making you feel like your ribs were about to snap. the dress itself was beautiful though, a long pale blue dress which was off the shoulder, and had mesh sleeved elasticated around your wrists. your h/l hair was naturally curled, and fell around your face delicately as soon as the pin was removed, and one of your maids brushed the tresses. you were lucky in the aspect of hair, it was truly gorgeous and you had never hated it.

the heels were a slightly different case. they pinched your toes and no matter how much training you had to walk in them- they were satans creation. you preferred simple satin slippers, or just any shoe that does not have a stick on the end which could impale someone. a small golden and intricate crown was places atop your head, glittering earrings in and you were finished. you never really needed makeup, your natural beauty was well known in your kingdom though the people saw your kindness shine through more.

the southern kingdom was a very foresty and almost tropical place, with warm breezes and turqouise oceans, yet beautiful green trees and luscious grass, it was practically perfect. the eastern kingdom, was known to be a pretty cold place, not as freezing as the northern kingdom yet not as warm as the southern kingdom. oddly enough, the western kingdom was the hottest, mainly composed of sand and dry stone, one of your best friends lived in the western kingdom, prince jaemin.

huffing again, you left your room, concealing the winces from your feet which were already saw as you walked with quick steps to the throne room, where you would be waiting for the arrival of the eastern royalties. or so you thought. the frown on your face diminished into a look of shock and confusion when you saw the princes already there, turning to your parents who were glowering at you. oops, you were late.

"ah, y/n nice for you to finally join us" your mother said, grabbing your wrist and dragging you to stand next to her, facing the princes who were already bowing to you. there were two of them, one of which looked a little older with dark grey hair, and the other who had pitch black hair (pitch black hair was superior). the boy with grey hair was smiling at you and your curtseyed politely, but the black haired boy... he didnt look like he cared at all. reluctantly, you curtsey quickly before shooting a look at your mother.

"we welcome you warmly, prince taeyong and prince minhyung. we hope you enjoy your stay for the next month, dont hesitate to come to us if anything is not up to standards" your father bowed towards the boys. you stared distatastefully at the ground before looking up with a smile. even if you didnt want to marry yet, you may as well be nice to them as it is inevitable.

"y/n, go and make yourself useful whilst we show taeyong and minhyung their rooms" your mother said, staring into your eyes like a hawk. nodding you spun on your heels and walked out of the room rapidly, letting out a thankful sigh that you got out of that situation. roaming down the halls, you walk around, looking for any staff.

"oh! jeno!" you sped towards the knight in training. lee jeno was the mentoree of your mother’s knight, and soon to become yours.

"y/n!" he grinned and you wrapped your arms around him in a tight, warm hug. if you actually had a choice, you probably wouldve married jeno, seeing as he was your best friend and it wouldve been more of a friendship based marriage.

"how are the princes?" he asked, you locking your arm in his as you both walked down the halls. rolling your eyes you turned to face him.

"you know how i feel about this whole shitty marriage debacle. id rather not marry either- though im sure they’re lovely" that was another thing you did. always giving people the benefit of the doubt. jeno grimaced and nodded, his black hair bouncing softly as he did so.

"yeah i know. but you have a month, so maybe it would be good to try and get close to them at least" his naturally deep voice you had grown accustomed to, and it was hard to deny anything he said as all he spoke was truth. it wasnt like you had a choice anyway, it was all for some alliance. "yup" you muttered. looking outside, you saw sicheng, the gardener, planting new flowers and you gasped, tugging jenos arm. "look! lets go help out winwin" you dashed outside as fast as you could in your death traps for the feet, jeno trailing behind you. he knew how much you loved gardening and the outside.

"winwin~" you plopped next to him, promptly kicking off your heels as you kneeled on the soft grass, dress awkwardly flowing out around you. the gardener turned to you and smiled, pausing from digging out the old flowers and replacing them with newer ones.

"princess, did you need anything?" he asked, his attention now fully on you. nodding, you grab the other two trowels and handed one to jeno, grinning at winwin. "we have come to help" you announced, jeno chuckling at your eagerness to dig into soil. winwin nodded. "i see. well, you know what to do"

that was true. you often did spend time gardening with winwin and jeno, so it was unsurprising that you wanted to help again. digging into the dirt with a smile, you chatted with jeno and sicheng, just having a general good time whilst listening to the birds chirping and the riverstreams around the palace rushing. it was a very peaceful place, and you enjoyed it.

mark, who had finished talking with your parents was walking with his advisor, johnny, just around the castle when he saw your brother, prince yuta, looking out the window with a wide smile on his face. once yuta noticed their presence, he bowed towards them.

"oh, my apologies for not noticing you sooner" he apologised, which mark turned down with a small smile telling him it was okay. "is there something going on outside?" johnny asked, moving next to the window to see if something interesting was happening. following johnny, mark also stood at the window, all three of them now squeezed in as they looked out onto the palace gardens. marks gaze wandered before it landed on the 3 figures on the ground, planting flowers. it wasnt hard to figure out one of them was you, your crown gleaming in the sunlight. "did your parents force her to garden for a punishment?" johnny inquired to yuta who shook his head. "not at all, that doofus of a sister of mine likes doing things and has recently found enjoyment in gardening with sicheng" he answered softly, looking at his sister with adoration.

even from the window, mark could practically feel the waves of happiness radiating off of her. yet, they werent there when they met that morning.

#nct #mark #mark lee #lee minhyung #taeyong #lee taeyong #jolie #nct 127 #nct u #yuta #nakamoto yuta #prince mark is supreme

[moonlit-seren]

Reasons To Stay || Jung Yunho x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Y/n’s been working for one of the biggest news companies in Seoul for five years now, and like many others she/he wants a change in scenery. However, there are a handful of things keeping her/him from leaving, and one of them came in the form of an accidental blind date.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: SOFTNESS OVERDOSE- None

Word Count: 7.7k

A/N: I’m posting my very first Ateez imagine on my two week anniversary as a new Atiny. I’m so psyched to be a part of this growing family and I’d like to thank @every1studio for welcoming me into it UwU. The main character’s best friend was inspired by this ray of sunshine right here @rubyyong, I wanted to show her a little appreciation for being one of the many writers who influence me to become better and let her know that I’m here supporting her from afar. So yeah, happy reading. <3

꧁Masterlist꧂

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I sighed, glancing through one of the floor length windows adjacent to my desk. It was a particularly nice day outside, the fluffy clouds casting dark shadows on the world while the sun lit it up with a brilliant glow. The contrast was nearly eerie, like yin and yang, both the sun and the clouds out of our reach yet seemingly tangible if you lay on your back and reach your hands for the sky.

The streets below seemed busier than usual, the already terrible traffic appeared far more congested than normal. Due to the lack of movement in the streets, the multitude of car horns blared in a messy diarray with one another, the loud sounds varying in pitch but all sharing one thing in common. They wouldn’t stop.

Looking down at the vehicles made me glad that the office’s walls were soundproof, otherwise everyone in the building would have gone deaf by now. However, there were a few unlucky people on the street who had to endure cacophony of car horns as their speed quickened while walking to whatever destination they had in mind.

“It’s terrible isn’t it?” asked one of my coworkers, the newly promoted intern seeming to appear out of the blue. Her name was Chloe and she was one of the few reasons why I hadn’t quit my job yet in this suffocating office building. We worked for one of Seoul’s biggest news companies, her in the creative department and me in the editorial department.

Our departments were located on different floors, so it surprised me to see her standing here, one hand fiddling with her ID badge and the other resting on her hip. Her eyes were trained on the streets below like mine were, before fluttering up to meet mine while waiting for my response.

I simply nodded as my eyebrows furrowed, hoping that the traffic wouldn’t be this bad when I had to drive back to my apartment in the evening. It already took a solid half an hour to drive back home without any traffic jams, and just imagining trying to get back while moving at a snail’s pace… Well, I honestly didn’t even want to imagine that.

“I heard someone in the elevator say that the city closed a few roads to repair them, so that must be the reason why there’s so much traffic,” I stated, eyebrows arched and lips pursed in an expression that read ‘I don’t really know’ while I shrugged to emphasize my lack of knowledge over the situation.

Chloe nodded as if to show that she’d agreed with my thoughts, her sleek high ponytail bouncing with the movement. She was wearing a knee length, peach colored sundress today, with soft magenta roses littering the garment like powdered sugar on freshly baked cupcakes. Her excellent sense of fashion always brought a bright burst of liveliness into the office, regardless of whether she was in a black, leather jacket or a pastel blue sweater top.

The comparison I always made, much to her distaste, was a small, yet thriving plant amidst a world of manmade objects and other inanimate items. I thought it was fitting. She just found it cliché.

It was a little off how we ended up as friends. Originally I thought that it’d be best to keep my distance, as bubbly people tend to get annoying after a while. Although, when I was asked to show her around the building, I realized that her perkiness was a breath of fresh air compared to the droopy gazes of the sleepy workers mulling about on my floor.

She was a ray of sunshine that lit my dim world and inspired me to let loose and remember what it’s like seeing things from an optimistic point of view. To put it simply, she helped me learn to live again, something I had forgotten when I reached adulthood.

Suddenly seeming to remember why she was up here, Chloe let out a small “Oh, right” while snapping her fingers before turning her body away from the window to face me instead. “I just wanted to inform you that it was lunch break, since you tend to forget while you’re immersed in the fancy world of grammar and punctuation.”

Her wild hand gestures accompanying the last three words of her sentence had me rolling my eyes. It was a known fact that no one on my floor, except for me, actually enjoyed correcting the numerous grammatical errors of others.

I couldn’t blame them though, since most of us were just here to make a living. Which brings me to my second reason for tolerating my job. I used to love the idea of doing something in this field for a living, words always had a way to entrance me in them which explains why I practically lived in libraries growing up.

I practically jumped at the opportunity when I was offered this job, but after five years of being stuck here, the magic of it all faded away into oblivion. Originally I was only working part time, since I was in my second year of college, but when I graduated I was given a full time job.

Of course, when I entered the company, I started at the very bottom of the corporate ladder. My main job was to be an errand girl like Chloe was before her promotion. I won’t even lie, it was absolutely horrible, and I know the girl in front of me would agree.

I can’t even recall how many cups of coffee just a single worker needed, as they would all fall asleep otherwise. In the first few hours of the morning, the demand for coffee was so great that I had petitioned for there to be five coffee machines rather than the two that we had.

Needless to say, I went home everyday with at least one new burn from the boiling hot liquid I had to carry around, and my hands really weren’t a pretty sight due to them. Thankfully I learned my lesson after the first week, opting to buy gloves that would help protect my hands and a bright red stop sign I attached to my tray so that people would stop running into me.

It was quite the sight, and really just a mortifying memory I have ingrained in the back of my head. Though Chloe didn’t have it as bad, shortly after I was promoted the company bought three more coffee machines as requested and hired more people so that there were more sets of hands dealing everyone their daily doses of caffeine.

Which brings me back to present day, as a 22 year old who seemed to age mentally far beyond my actual years living on this earth.

“Yeah, I didn’t notice the time. Do you want to go get a drink with me? I heard a new cafe opened up a few blocks down and so far there have only been positive reviews from the people I’ve asked about it,” I asked, kind of hoping that Chloe would agree to go, because who wouldn’t want some company?

However, I could see her response before she verbalized it in the way that she furrowed her eyebrows with a slight pout. “I can’t, there’s a new batch of interns that came in just yesterday, and for some reason none of them know how to work a coffee machine.”

I laughed at her predicament, imagining Chloe surrounded by a small group of college students too used to buying an overpriced coffee at a local cafe than to make their own brews with a machine.

“Okay, have fun,” I teased, standing up to stretch my back and roll a few cricks out of my neck. Chloe cringed at the little pops and cracks, reaching behind me to help pick up my bag that strewn across the back of my chair. It was pretty warm outside still, being in the early months of fall, which is why I didn’t have a coat with me.

I thanked her as I slipped the bag over my shoulder, before walking away with a slight wave. Since Chloe wouldn’t be going with me today, I decided to get her something at the cafe since I knew her taste in pastries and drinks quite well.

The elevator ride was pretty quick, albeit rather crowded as large groups of people were also on their way out to enjoy their break somewhere else.

The company was rather generous with its workers, allowing them a full hour long break before returning back to their 9-5 schedule. Maybe that was my third reason for staying at the company despite being sick of the mountain of words I had to go through daily.

The elevator reached the lobby floor with a small ding, the door nearly closing on me as everyone shuffled out of the metal box. I had allowed myself to get trapped near the back of the elevator as people piled in, which was why I had been the last to leave.

The front lobby was rather big, with a fancy granite front desk with gold accenting, and several marble columns spread around the floor to support the high ceiling.

To the right of the front desk was a small sitting area marked by a sprawling beige rug, dark leather couches, and a bamboo table resting in the middle. To the left of the front desk was a small water fountain with a family of koi fish lazily swimming about the bed of pennies and nickels thrown in.

I never really understood the point of throwing coins into fountains. People were basically wasting change, poisoning the fish, and drowning their elusive dreams in a supposed wishing well.

Still, I never voiced my thoughts out loud. After all, I didn’t want to crush the pure wishes of the children begging for coins from their parents in order to perform the simple act of hoping.

Not to mention that I had also fit into that crowd as a young girl, making desperate wishes to get the boy I liked to like me back. Of course, they were all left unheard, or maybe even ignored, which only served to fuel my distaste for making wishes on copper coins.

I’d much rather save my change to tip baristas, as I finally understood their struggle after having made hundreds of cups of coffee myself. It was a grueling task and I couldn’t help but sympathize with anyone who had to do what I did as an intern for a living.

Speaking of which, I made my way out of the front door of the office building, immediately cringing at the racket of noise that met my ears. Much to my bittersweet relief, the cars seemed to be moving a tad bit faster than earlier.

Albeit, the new set of cars didn’t sound any different from the last set, with their loud beeping at the mini traffic jams that hadn’t quite thinned out yet.

I reached into my purse and pulled out my earbuds, skilled fingers working quickly to untangle the messy knots the cord had fallen into. There had never been a day where I found them neatly folded like I had left them, so untangling them had become a regular part of my daily routine.

It didn’t take very long, and soon enough I had them plugged into my phone and placed in my ears. Going to my usual playlist, a slow smile spread across my face at the song that had arisen first by chance.

The noise of the car horns completely drowned out with the melody playing in my ears, and I happily mouthed along to the lyrics when the sidewalk before me cleared of any prying eyes as I walked down it.

The only people who could see me making a slight fool out of myself was the people in the cars adjacent to me, nevertheless, they all seemed far too preoccupied with their own lives to notice. Some were on their madly typing away at their phones, others messing with toys they had received with their fast food, and in the driver’s case: vigorously slamming their fists on their horns as if it would help resolve the situation.

“Snapping, snapping,” I whispered softly, eyes taking on a playful lilt as I fell into step with the beat of the song. Despite wanting to burst out dancing, I restrained myself as my mouth snapped closed with an audible click when a figure appeared several feet in front of me.

I wasn’t quite ready to let go of my dignity to the extent of having a little dance break in the middle of the sidewalk of a bustling city. I could practically see steam coming out of the nose of the young woman in front of me, so I popped out an earbud wondering what she could be fuming about.

“Stupid date left me waiting there… Screw men… If I ever get my hands on him… He’ll be dead meat…”

The rest of her words faded with the growing distance between us, having already passed by her as she was walking off in the opposite direction.

“She must’ve been stood up,” I thought, almost pitying her if not for her horrid attitude and snobby scowl. Her date might of had a reason for not showing up, who knows?

Realizing that I had reached my destination, I looked up to check the name of the cafe to be sure. The sign was done in a beautiful gradient with a faint blush pink fading into a vibrant fuchsia. Looking out front, there were bright posters taped to the windows advertising popular drinks and desserts.

Just from the prices on the posters, I could this was a higher class joint, as there was even a small seating area outside with large, turquoise blue umbrellas shielding the tables from the sun. Not to mention that the place also offered breakfast and lunch despite just being a cafe.

In spite of the high prices, I stepped through the door, taking notice of the white daisies growing in the pastel green window boxes. The golden bells above the door chimed, notifying my entrance.

Like always, I was instantly hit with the heavenly scent of freshly ground cinnamon and coffee beans that most cafes seemed to boost.

After becoming employed, I never really had to worry about spending a little extra on a higher quality drink everyday. The high paycheck was the fourth reason why I found the idea of leaving my job so difficult. Besides, It never hurt to have a little extra cash in my bank account in case of a financial emergency.

Slowly making my way to a booth, I took in the interior of the cafe. The walls of the joint were painted the same color as the window boxes, with accenting lining the corners of the spacy room matched the color of the umbrellas outside. The round tables had a translucent glass top with black metal legs, and the chairs sitting around them were made of the same black metal twisted into an intricate design.

I highly doubted the large jewels in the back of the chairs were made of real glass, though they shone the same way a real gem would in the soft lighting coming from the beautiful light fixtures dangling from the ceiling.

There was a marble front desk where the cashier was incase someone just wanted to grab a takeout coffee and/or pastry. Speaking of which, there were numerous display cases lining the marble counters filled with various treats ranging from rainbow colored macarons to cream filled mochi.

Although, there were waiters and waitresses that came to you if you get their attention, in case you have the time to sit about, which is what I choose to do. Standing in line in front of the cashier just seemed like far too much work today, so I decided to just skip the wait.

I sat down in one of the empty booths lining the wall of the cafe. They also had glass table tops, however they were rectangular and the seats were made of artificial black leather the same shade as the chairs in the center of the room.

Suddenly a tall figure burst through the front door, the bells in front of the door crashing together rather harshly unlike the gentle tingle they let out when I walked through.

The male seemed to be around my age, though it was rather hard to tell if he was older or younger considering how his youthful face was paired with a ridiculously tall stature.

The straps of his beige jacket fluttered behind him in the small gust of his abrupt entrance, nearly getting caught in the closing door. His almost puppy like features were framed was light blue hair that looked softer than the clouds I had been admiring in the morning.

I was suddenly struck with the creeping urge to run my hands through the strands, causing an immediate flush to race up my neck as I averted my gaze.

“What am I thinking?” I thought, embarrassment and guilt coursing through my veins. This was precisely why I avoided attractive men like my life depended on it, because I knew as a matter of fact that my dignity did.

The moment my eyes settled on someone who was remotely handsome, my heart raced so quickly that I felt a love struck school girl all over again. Nonetheless, I could never keep my eyes off beautiful specimen for long, hence why my gaze subconsciously traveled back to the male standing at the doorway.

His eyes had been roaming the room, his shoulders sinking dejectedly as he didn’t seem to see who or what he was looking for. However, when he continued to look around his eyes met mine, much to my horror.

His eyes lit up, his mouth forming a little ‘o’ shape, as my eyes snapped back to my lap. A string of curses flew across the forefront of my mind at getting caught staring, as I desperately hoped with all of my being that he wouldn’t walk over.

Of course the heavens ignored my plead.

The cute male slid into the seat across from mine with an apologetic smile. Which struck me as odd as I should have been the apologetic one. Yet the words that slipped out of his lips were far odder, in my opinion.

“I’m so sorry for being late, the traffic today truly was horrible and I ended up stuck in this one traffic jam for…” he started, trailing off as he lifted his wrist to check his watch for the time. “An hour.”

“Huh?” I asked, completely confused. An extremely attractive stranger suddenly appeared out of nowhere, approached me out of all the pretty girls sitting alone in this cafe, and started apologizing when we had never met each other before?

I was about as lost as the person across from me was hot. Like dang, his visuals really attracted the curious gaze of all the aforementioned ladies sitting around the room.

Suddenly something nagged at the back of my mind, the vivid image of the woman from early resurfacing from my memories.

Oh.

He must have thought that I was his blind date.

I opened my mouth to explain the situation, but before I had the chance to collect my thoughts, the guy started talking once again. He had been taking off his coat so he didn’t see the way I had been gaping while pondering how to tell him he had mistaken me for someone else.

He looked up at me, eyes widening when he realized that he never introduced himself. A spellbinding smile spreading across his soft features as he held his hand across the table for a handshake. “Right, my name is Yunho, it’s nice to meet you.”

I hesitantly took his hand, introducing myself with a shaky smile. One look into his warm eyes and I knew that I couldn’t break it to him that his real date had left like a fiery hurricane while spitting out curses like a tasteless rapper.

Yunho repeated my name slowly, as if the savor each and every syllable with a thoughtful smile. It was clear that he was about to drop a cliché pickup line from the way his eyes sparkled mischievously, however, that didn’t soften the impact as my cheeks flushed red. “What a beautiful name.”

What he did next completely caught me off guard as he started mumbling to himself with a sly smile. “I wonder what our ship name would be…”

Deciding that my heart wouldn’t be able to take anymore of his cheesiness, I waved one of the waiters over.

“Ready to order?” Asked the waiter, his ears tinting red when I directed my gaze at him. His grip tightened a little on his mini clipboard and pen, eyes averting to Yunho instead.

“How cute,” I thought, slightly flattered over his actions. Although I never really dated before, I could recognize that smitten expression anywhere. It was then that I recalled that I never actually looked at the small menu, however, that didn’t turn out to be a problem as Yunho ordered for the both of us.

“Have you been here before?” I asked, surprised because I never saw him look at the menu either before the waiter walked away. The cafe opened a few days ago, so it wasn’t entirely unbelievable that he had gone before, though I didn’t think that was the case.

“No, I just ordered the special today if that’s okay with you,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. His shy smile was a stark contrast to the confident front he had thrown up while flirting with me.

I smiled, nodding to assure that I didn’t mind as I would’ve done the same thing. From his timid gaze, I could tell that he never really went out on dates, which greatly relieved me as I hadn’t either.

The waiter came back around again in a few minutes with two plates of omelets with hot cheese oozing out of the seams and juicy, cubed tomatoes peeking through pale yellow egg. On the side of both plates were small bowls of freshly cut fruit topped with little mint sprigs.

It gave off a very insta worthy aesthetic, so I fished out my phone before taking a bite, raising the camera. A smile unknowingly spread across my face at how at peace Yunho looked with the warm afternoon sun perfectly catching the soft curves of his full cheeks while simultaneously dusting golden flakes into his umber eyes.

I lifted my camera a little further, so that it still captured the plate before me but also included Yunho’s adorably focused face. His eyes snapped up at the sound of the camera clicking, fork dangling an inch away from his mouth as I had caught him midbite.

I put my phone away, bashfully mumbling that he looked like an angel glowing in the sunlight like that and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to capture the moment. He blinked a few times in surprise, before laughing softly.

“You should’ve told me beforehand, I could’ve posed,” he teased, cheekily wiggling two peace signs in front of his eyes before drawing up two finger hearts.

I blushed, internally cooing at how cute he looked with such an innocent sparkle in his eye that I thought only existed in children. He was everything he looked like at that moment. A complete and utter angel who radiated purity under the glimmering sun.

Deciding to get something to drink, we called the waiter over once more, who whipped out his mini notepad habitually. And like earlier, he refused to meet my gaze for long, something both Yunho and I noticed.

Yunho flashed me a wink, nudging his head subtly at the waiter as if we weren’t on a date ourselves. I hid a giggle behind my hand at his goofy antics, quickly returning my arm back to the table when the waiter glanced up at me for a second.

“I’ll take two bubble teas with normal tapioca,” I requested, biting back a smile at the bewildered look Yunho shot me. He asked for an iced latte, eyes never leaving mine as the waiter walked away.

“Do you really like bubble tea that much?” He asked, a little awestruck. It wouldn’t have been all that surprising if I did, since everyone on Earth had one big craving they could never get enough of. So, I nodded firmly, looking him dead in the eye with a stoic “yes”.

He looked scared for a moment as if worried he said something wrong and at that I couldn’t hide my snicker.

“I do, but the second cup isn’t for me. I promised a friend that I’d bring her back something since she couldn’t go out for her break,” I explained, smiling cordially as his expression melted back into its usual peaceful bliss.

“How thoughtful,” he whispered, but I heard his sweet words as my disappearing blush suddenly bloomed all over again. I chose to ignore his comment, eyes flashing up to the waiter who reappeared once more with our drinks and a plate of bite size sugar cookies.

He placed all three cups down before putting down the plate with a quiet clinking sound. “Here’s a complimentary plate of sugar cookies for all customers who come during our opening week. Enjoy.”

And with that, he was gone again, almost tripping over himself in his haste to get away.

“Does he think I have the bubonic plague?” I wondered aloud, despite knowing why he was in such a rush. It was written all over the back of his neck and the tips of his ears in various hues of red.

“Maybe you should ask for his number,” mused Yunho, still very clearly amused over the waiter’s crush on me. I narorred my eyes at him, normally if a date encouraged you to pick up someone else then that’s a telltale sign that they’re obviously not interested in a relationship with you.

However, I could tell that Yunho meant everything that he was saying lightheartedly, so I decided to tease him back. “No thanks, I’d rather have yours.”

I could tell the unexpected flirt stunned Yunho, as his jaw dropped. I winked at him the same way he winked at me when the waiter came over, enjoying his flustered reaction. Despite the fact that Yunho would tower over me if we both stood up, he looked no bigger than a child at the moment shrinking into himself with a fiery blush. “Oh.”

I loved how table had turned, with how many times he caused my cheeks to tint pink. It was a small stroke of success, but I didn’t have the heart to continue. Taking the initiative, I asked him about himself, wanting to spend the time we had together developing a close friendship since he seemed to be a fun person to have around.

It wasn’t long before we fell into a deep conversation about ourselves. I learned that he was indeed younger than me by two years, and managed to convince him to call me noona but drop all other honorifics.

Honestly if anyone had told me that I’d end up on a date with someone younger than me, I wouldn’t have believed them. It was always a condition on my ideal type list that the male had to be older. Yet the ridiculous list completely faded away into nothingness in the back of my mind the longer I talked to Yunho.

Instead a new list wrote itself with only two conditions on it: His eyes had to sparkle like a galaxy of stars being reflected on a still lake and his smile had to hold the same warmth as a steaming cup of hot chocolate on a cold winter night.

In other words it was describing the person sitting right in front of me, as he threw his head back, laughing at one of the many comical stories I told him about my fanatical college days.

He was currently in college right now, majoring in the same subject that I majored in. It was nice having someone relate so hard to my past struggles, as he was going through the same things I had gone through with crazy strict teachers and boisterous students marching down the halls like they owned the school.

In return I told him about how I worked as an editor, along with a few facts about me that few people knew or cared to ask about, such as my lowkey love for the artist Chungha.

Yunho said that he had heard a few of her songs before too, leading us down another conversation about our tastes in music and other pop culture.

Sometime during the conversation, Yunho’s phone started to ring as he excused himself from the table. I called the waiter over again during that time, asking for a small takeout bag.

I stuffed the rest of the cookies into it, deciding to take them back to Chloe along with the drink. Pausing for a bit, I pulled out one cookie and placed it back onto the plate incase Yunho wanted one more.

It wasn’t long before he came back, brushing off the topic when I asked him if the call was important. I didn’t want to invade his privacy, hence why I didn’t push the topic. In fact, I only asked because I didn’t want to keep him if there was some sort of emergency.

We picked up on the tail of our last conversation, reengaging in a passionate debate over which Harry Potter book was the best and other things of the sort.

Before I knew it, half an hour past and my break was about to end in twenty minutes. As much as I enjoyed learning about Yunho’s love for sports, fascination over the Harry Potter, and sweet but wild group of friends, I didn’t even want to think about how my manager would breath down my back if I came back late.

Looking down to see my empty cup, I realized with a start that my hand had somehow ended up in Yunho’s. During our conversation his hand had gotten closer and closer to mine, as I had left it lying on the table. I didn’t remember when that had changed, from the tips of his fingers brushing mine to slipping his hand on top of my own.

I wasn’t sure if he noticed this, but when I tried to remove my hand back from his grip, his hold only tightened as his thumb brushed the back of my hand. It became clear that it had been quite intentional.

“Hey, Yunho?” I asked, eyes lifting from our hands up to his face.

“Yeah?” He asked, sweet smile never leaving his lips before the corner of his lips quirked up into a small smirk. It was clear that he was only teasing me by not letting go, as I uncomfortably shifted in my chair.

Deciding not to mention it to save a little bit of my pride, I glanced over at the antique clock on the opposite wall. “My lunch break is nearly over, I have to go.”

He nodded in acknowledgement of my statement, reaching over with his free hand to sling his coat over his arm. “Is it close to here?”

“Yeah, just a ten minute walk away.”

He got up, pulling me up with my hand in his. Before I could comprehend what he was doing, he intertwined our fingers, taking the last sugar cookie off the plate and stuffing it in my mouth to muffle my protests.

My ears were burning scarlet as he led me out of the cafe, pouting slightly as I chewed. This guy seriously… A question floated up, bubbling through my mouth as I looked up at Yunho with furrowed eyebrows. “Did we just dine and dash?”

Yunho shook his head with a little laugh, eyes shifting down to meet mine before looking forward again. “No, I covered the bill earlier.”

That had me pause in my step, causing Yunho to come to a stop too since our hands were intertwined. I don’t recall ever receiving the bill at our table, nor did I hear Yunho say that he was going up front to pay, otherwise I would’ve forced him to split the bill. Although, there was that one time he left to take a call…

That was when the realization of what had happened dawned on me and from Yunho’s knowing smile he could tell that I had figured it out. “You didn’t.”

“But, I did.” he chuckled once more, pulling me forward as he began to walk again. It was clear that he didn’t actually know where we were going, so I widened my stride a little so that we would be walking side by side. It was rather sweet how he intended to walk me back to my office, the same way a guy would take a date home.

Before we got far, my phone went off, the familiar tune of Chungha’s debut song filling the silence between us. My cheeks flushed pink at Yunho’s teasing gaze, deepening as he teased, “Didn’t you say you were just a minor fan?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I brushed him off, excusing myself to take the call. The caller ID read ‘Chlo~’ with a couple of red hearts after it.

“Where are you? You’re usually back by now!” Exclaimed Chloe from the other side of the line, the faint bubbling in the background signifying that she was currently in the lobby near the fountain.

“Sorry, I lost track of time,” I apologized, smiling sheepishly despite the fact that she couldn’t see me. I heard Chloe sigh, telling me to hurry up and get back because ‘she missed me’ before hanging up.

I slipped my phone back into my pocket, before swiftly making my way back to Yunho. “Sorry about that, my coworker was fretting over the fact that I wasn’t back yet.”

Yunho shook his head to dismiss my apology, saying not to worry about it since he was the one taking up my time.

Suddenly, a familiar voice could be heard from the distance coming closer and closer. “Stupid day… No, stupid date… Ditched by a guy now ditched by my clutch… I must have left if in that stupid cafe.”

The girl from earlier appeared in front of us as she rounded the corner, with her head down as she appeared to be typing away angrily on her phone. Pure and sheer panic coursed through my veins at the sight of her. If she was indeed who I thought she was, then the moment she opened her mouth, I’d be exposed.

However, before I could do anything, she slammed in Yunho’s chest due to not watching where she was going. Yunho’s hands flew to her shoulders to steady her, wincing at how he hadn’t seen her coming either since he had been looking at me.

“Watch where you’re- Oh,” she trailed off, eyes widening when she lifted her head up and saw Yunho’s face for the first time. It was almost comical how Yunho could attract the interest of everyone around him without even trying, me being included.

Her hands slowly slipped up to his arms, squeezing lightly while a flirtatious smile replaced her scowl. Since she was so close to Yunho, her back was to me and couldn’t see what I was doing.

Despite being wary of the situation, I couldn’t help but let out an over exaggerated, but silent, gagging noise. I muffled my own laughter at the act with the palm of my hand, however, Yunho didn’t have the liberty to, which was why he couldn’t hide his chuckle.

The girl clinging onto him was confused, but somehow took that as a positive sign as she started to bat her freakishly long eyelashes at him. “Hey, aren’t you Yunho? My name is Hayoung, I’m pretty sure a guy from my class set us up on a date. What was his name again… Junhao?”

I felt like my heart had stopped at her words, hands becoming cold and clammy as I looked at Yunho. Would he get mad at me? Maybe even leave and go on the date that he missed with Hayoung? In my defense I had tried to tell him that I wasn’t his date, though to be fair I really could have tried harder.

Still, Yunho didn’t notice my terrified gaze, instead looking at Hayoung’s hands which were shamelessly feeling up his biceps. He reached up to pry her hands off of him, stepping back to put some distance between the two of them.

“Yeah, that’s me, though I don’t think it’s appropriate to hang off a guy in front of his date,” he commented, shocking me to my core. Yunho finally looked at me with a soft smile, taking one of my hands in his once more.

Hayoung’s wide eyes weren’t nearly as large as mine as we were both baffled over what had just happened. My eyes kept scanning over Yunho’s face to see if I could get a read over his thoughts, yet all I could see in his eyes was the same warmth they always held.

He squeezed my hand in response, assuring me that he didn’t regret his actions as he turned back to look at a gaping Hayoung.

“Now if you’ll excuse us, we really need to go,” Yunho stated, quickly leading us away from the fuming girl.

Once we reached my office building, I stopped in front of it, saying that this was me. I gently pulled my hand out of his, shyly brushing a stray strand of hair out of my eyes.

Yunho, tucked both of his hands into his pockets as he stood in front of me, not quite wanting to leave, yet not having a valid reason to stay.

I took that as my que to ask the question burning in the back of my mind. “You didn’t seem very surprised at Hayoung’s appearance, did you know I wasn’t your date?”

Yunho nodded with a guilty smile, reaching up to rub the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Yeah, the call I took earlier was from my friend Jongho, saying that Hayoung called chewing his ear off. I also may or may not have known what she looked like beforehand…”

My jaw dropped at his confession, and to think that I had worried over nothing. “You knew and yet you approached me out of the blue? Why in the world would you do something like that? Not saying that I didn’t enjoy your company, but that’s kinda creepy you know…”

“Sorry, you were just the most attractive person I’ve ever seen in my life. Not to mention the fact that you seemed to be alone in the cafe,” Yunho apologized, eyes dropping to the floor as he was unable to meet my gaze in fear of being scolded. I was stunned into silence. That was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me, especially from someone so good looking.

Shoving down the reprimand I had in mind, I jokingly nudged Yunho in the ribs to get him to look at me again. “Well she didn’t really seem to be your type anyways.”

Yunho laughed at this, wholeheartedly agreeing with me. “It seems you know my type better than my own friends. Though to be honest, I’m pretty sure Jongho knew that I would never approach a girl like Hayoung and was only trying to get me back for finishing the last bottle of Sprite from his secret collection. We’re housemates.”

I laughed at his in depth explanation, relating to his struggles. Chloe moved in with me in the summer, a few months after we met. The air conditioning unit in her run down apartment kept breaking down and was twice the distance from the company than mine.

It was far more convenient with her as a housemate as we had more spare change to spend on the money we saved on rent with a split bill. However, with every housemate comes the temptation of stealing their things.

Just recalling that one time I finished the last slice of the cake Chloe bought… She deemed it fair play to sprinkle a few pinches of flour in our shared hairdryer while I was in the shower. Though I couldn’t get mad at her for it though, because she apologized immediately after, while laughing her head off. It was extremely fortunate for her that I loved her, otherwise she would have been in for it.

“Hey, you said you were an editor, but you never mentioned the fact that you worked for this particular company,” mused Yunho, drawing me back from the mini memory lane my mind had skipped down.

“Oh I must’ve forgotten to mention it,” I said, arching an eyebrow at Yunho who’s smile spread impossibly wider. I was curious as to why me working at this company sparked his interest so much.

“You know, I just passed my interview here a few months ago?” asked Yunho casually, eyes gleaming playfully at the way my eyes widened at his words.

“Holy spades, though why weren’t you with the other interns today?” I asked, recalling the reason why Chloe couldn’t join me today.

“Well we were toured around the company earlier this morning but when my group was handed off to this other woman I turned out to be the only person who knew how to work the coffee machine. I used to work part time as a barista,” he explained with a mirthful tone of voice.

“That’s explains it,” I thought, nodding at his words. As much as I loved talking to Yunho today, I knew my break was drawing to a close and that I needed to leave soon.

“Well, I guess we’ll be seeing each other more often then,” I smiled at him bashfully, already visualizing what it would be like seeing him around at the office in the future.

“Yeah,” he agreed, hesitating a little with his next actions before stepping forward and placing a chaste kiss on my cheek.

He pulled away with a burning red blush crawling up his neck as he waved goodbye and walked off, back in the direction of the cafe and what I assumed was his car.

I shoved down my own blush, trying to recollect myself as I stepped back into the front lobby of my apartment building.

Chloe was sitting on the rim of the fountain, seemingly preoccupied with her phone. It was clear that she hadn’t seen what went down outside, otherwise she would’ve pounced on me right then and there with a mountain of questions.

Sneaking up beside her, I dangled the paper bag of sugar cookies in front of her face with a small “tada”. Chloe looked up from her phone, smiling at the bag. “Ah, you’re back. Thanks.”

I also handed her the sealed takeout cup of bubble tea and a plastic straw that I had kept hidden inside of my bag. Miraculously there was still a few ice cubes left, as the cafe had its air conditioner turned pretty high to combat the early fall heat. Or maybe it was just that my bag had some sort of secret insulation tech embedded into the interior pouch. Who knows?

She accepted it with yet another “thanks” and popped the straw through the plastic covering. Taking a small sip, she hummed in content with the sweet drink. I grinned at her as she looked down at the sweet drink as if she was trying to see a visible difference between this mixture and every other milk tea she’s tried.

The cafe really did the name of bubble tea justice, with chewy tapioca pearls of a perfect consistency and a tea base with just the right amount of sugar and flavouring. It was a little pricier as expected, however the extra dollar was definitely worth it.

“It’s good isn’t it?” I asked, as she nodded without an ounce of hesitation much like I did at Yunho when he inquired about my love for bubble tea.

We made our way to the elevator arm in arm, with Chloe asking me why I had been gone for so long.

“Were you with a guy?” Chloe asked teasingly, expecting my usual mundane response of “no”. After all, dates were never my thing and she knew that quite well. I glanced at the bright red numbers flashing in the elevator’s screen, noticing that it had reached my floor.

“Actually, yes I was,” I stated mischievously, stepping out of the elevator when the door opened. I spun around, watching as Chloe’s eyes widened.

“What?!” she exclaimed, watching in horror as the door started closing before she could ask anymore questions. I knew that she wouldn’t risk angering her manager by going back late as she certainly would if she ran out of the elevator after me.

I waved at her as the door shut, laughing a little. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to get away from her later when we got home, however, I was too giddy to really think about how I’d suffer her wrath for dropping a bomb like that and just leaving.

Making my way back to my own desk, I plopped down in the spinning chair with a soft smile at everything that had occurred today. Sure, the traffic I’d have to deal with later might put a damper on my mood, and sure, I’d have to deal with Chloe’s inevitable interrogation but the carefree giddiness I felt at that moment felt like it would last forever.

When tomorrow comes, the internships will officially start and with them will come the one blue haired male that captured my attention today and heck, maybe he’ll be my fifth and final reason to stay.

#ateez #yunho #fanfiction #imagine #oneshot #romance #fluff #ateez yunho imagine #ateez yunho oneshot #ateez yunho fanfic

[rose-red-ink]

Shadows and Thrones, Chapter One

Hey everyone, thanks for showing interest in my book! I’ll be adding a link to this and subsequent chapters on my masterlist page. Hope you all enjoy. 

Chapter 1

Everything began to fade away; the bed beneath me, the press of the metal headset in front of my eyes, the quiet birdsong outside my window. The world faded to black as my mind was teleported to somewhere far away and nowhere all at once.

The world of Shadows and Thrones, the newest VR game on the market. The darkness around me started to swirl with muted color, consolidating into a generic female avatar standing a few feet in front of me.

Dozens of menus popped up, offering height, weight, hair color, race, skin color, fighter class, and more things to choose from than my overly-excited brain could settle on. A grin on my face, I set to work.

My boots touched down with a soft crunch in a beautiful pine forest. The trees stretched tall and green above my head, swaying gently in the breeze. The sharp scent of pine needles touched my nose, and I couldn’t contain a tiny gasp. Full-dive virtual reality really was amazing. A thrill rushed in my chest, a familiar ache to run and climb and explore every inch of this new world.

‘And then what?’ a little voice whispered in my head. ‘You’ll explore this world, it’ll be all fun and exciting for a few months. It won’t make you happy.’

I shook my head. “Shut up.”

I was here, the sun shining in a dappled pattern over my avatar’s skin, a whole new world stretching out before me. I didn’t have to be thinking about all that, I shouldn’t.

I took a deep breath through my nose, taking in the scents of pine and damp earth and freshly baked bread, somewhere off in the distance. Probably a town, one with a tavern.

I could find some other players, try to join a guild, or even just a party for a few days as I got used to things. Maybe people might want me in their guild, if I didn’t mess up too much.

Squaring my shoulders, I walked towards the direction of the smell. As the trees thinned out, I could see a village across the fields of grass, chimney smoke rising into the clear blue sky. Perfect.

The tavern was filled with players of all races crowded around tables. An NPC barmaid pushed past me, delivering mugs of mead to a drow and some kind of water spirit race, before bustling back to the bar.

Everyone seemed to know everyone else, groups of friends and old guilds meeting up. A girl in low-cut armor lounged in the corner, hitting on whoever walked by, and acting super friendly to any girl players who wandered past.

I steered clear. I’d played enough video games to know who those kinds of players were.

But as the tavern filled with more players, my hesitation grew. My eyes drifted to the notice board. I could put up a sign, saying I needed a guild to join, but that could yield...uncomfortable results.

So I sat on a bar stool, picking at my long fingernails, for what seemed like forever.

After nearly an hour, I sighed and resigned myself to just making a notice board post and hoping whoever picked me up wasn’t too creepy.

Looking for guild!

My name’s Risty Blackburn, I’m a level one shadow rogue, leaning towards a DPS role.. Looking for a guild to join. No spam or roleplaying guilds, please!

ID contact number: 78349375841

‘You really think anyone’s going to be interested with that? Just log out and stop wasting your time.’

I winced, tearing down the notice. I mentally called up the menu screen, reaching for the logout button.

I tapped it. Nothing happened.

I frowned. Tapped again.

The tavern still bustled around me.

Maybe the headgear took a couple minutes to shut down? The instruction manual said it was supposed to be instantaneous, but this was a new game. They probably had to work out a few bugs.

I waited five minutes. Ten. Fifteen.

Then, my stomach flipped. An elf player stood, reaching for his menu, and disappeared in a flash of light.

He was logged out instantly. Was something wrong with my VR gear? Or the game?

I hurried over to the table he had just left. A dwarf man and some sort of cat woman looked up at me expectantly.

My stomach dropped. “H-hello.” I managed. “I, uh, have either of you had a problem logging out? I saw your friend did, but mine isn’t working.”

The dwarf rolled his eyes. “It’s not that hard, noob.”

He pulled up his menu, pointing to the logout button. “See? Right here.”

Frustration boiled inside me. “I know.” I snapped, pulling it up. “But it doesn’t work.”

I demonstrated, the button still yielding no results.

The cat-woman frowned, looking at my screen. “That’s weird…”

The dwarf sneered. “Go figure it out yourself.”

The cat-woman smacked his arm with a disapproving glare, before looking back to me. “I’d go to the city hall. There are some friendly NPCs who can help with any glitches.”

I nodded, thanking her.

So I just needed to get bug sorted out. That was all. Everything would be fine. But I couldn’t shove aside the sinking feeling in my chest as I left the tavern and into the coming sunset.

Something was off.

“What the hell do you mean?!”

The enraged roar was what greeted me as I walked into the city hall. An elf man was yelling at an NPC with a politely blank expression.

“You do not meet the requirements to log out right now.” the computer-generated man said calmly.

“If you say that one more time--”

“You can’t log out?” I interrupted. Which I immediately regretted as he whirled on me, green eyes blazing with anger.

“Figure that out all by yourself?” he snarled. “The stupid logout button doesn’t work.”

I shrank back. “Mine doesn’t work either.” I managed. “That’s why...why I’m here.”

He looked at me with narrowed eyes, before moving aside.

“Talk to him,” he ordered.

I hesitated, before walking quickly past him, in front of the NPC.

“Hello,” I said quietly.

He smiled politely, his settings reset to talk to me. “Good evening, adventurer. How may I help you?”

“I can’t log out.” I explained.

He smiled. “Alright! I’ll pull up your profile and see what I can do. Please stay patient.”

His expression went blank again.

“This takes a while.” the elf explained. He kept fidgeting, picking the sleeves of his long cloak. From his clothes and the starter’s bow slung over his shoulder…

“You’re a ranger, right?” I asked.

He looked down. “Oh...yeah.”

I nodded. “It looks...nice.” His avatar did look good, it was clear he had spent lots of time on it. His skin was light brown, with long black hair loose around his shoulders. His eyes were dark green, like the pine forest I had spawned in. But his eyes kept darting around impatiently, never settling on anything for too long.

“Did you need to log out for something?” I asked.

He grimaced. “I...yeah. I just got a message from my sister a few minutes ago, she went into labor. I’m gonna miss the birth of my new niece or nephew if this bug doesn’t clear up.”

I winced. “Ugh, I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.” he scratched the back of his head. “Sorry I was yelling.”

I smiled. “It’s alright, I understand. You’re probably freaking out a bit for your sister, right?”

He gave a tight, stressed laugh. “Yeah. But I mean, her husband’s taking her to the hospital, and my mom is with her...she’ll be okay. It’s just irritating.”

He shook his head, as if trying to clear out his intruding thoughts, and held out his hand. “Anyway...I’m Lorson Clearwater”

I shook it. “Risty Blackburn.”

He grinned. “Okay, that’s a cool name. And a neat avatar.”

I couldn’t help my smile. “Yeah, it took me an hour,” I admitted.

My avatar had long, dark red hair, turning to golden blonde as it reached the tips. Her skin was dappled with freckles, and she wore simple black leather armor under a reddish-brown cloak. A couple simple daggers were strapped to her belt. But the best parts were the ears and tail. They were those of a fox, and the same red-brown as the cloak, tipped in white.

“Kitsune is a pretty cool race. I figured I’d go classic, though,” he admitted, looking down at his avatar.

“Nothing wrong with classics.” I reminded him cheerfully.

He smiled, some of the tension seeming to leave his face. “Right? Elves are awesome.”

“Ms. Blackburn, I’ve finished your scan.” the NPC interrupted.

I turned, heart pounding. “Thank you. What did you find? Can I log out?”

The NPC smiled. “You do not meet the requirements to log out. Thank you.”

Four hours later, Lorson got a message from his mother that his sister had given birth to a healthy baby boy. She was annoyed he hadn’t been there. He told her something had come up, that there was an accident, but he was okay.

Lorson and I couldn’t get any more answers out of the NPC, so the two of us had gone out of the hall, and sat on the marble steps. He’d halfheartedly suggested we go try out the combat system, but I’d just shrugged. The excitement I’d felt for the game’s release had been replaced by a cold, leeching dread.

What if I tried dying?

“You can’t log out either, can you?”

A voice made him look up. Two more players stood in front of him. A girl with short, dark purple hair plopped down on the steps, visibly fuming. Her long staff and dark blue robes meant she was a mage or some kind of spellcaster.

“This is BS.” she snapped.

The other player with her smiled apologetically at Lorson and I, before sitting down next to her.

“We’ll figure it out, Kaia,” he said gently. His heavy armor, golden hair, and broadsword marked him as some sort of tank, probably a paladin. “We’ve already sent a troubleshoot request, we just need to wait.”

He sat down next to the girl in the blue robes, giving them an apologetic smile.

I glanced above his head, the name there was “Edun”.

“I was supposed to video chat with some friends tonight, but the stupid NPCs say I can’t log out!” Kaia snapped. “What the hell are the “qualifications for logging out”? What does that even mean?!”

“I’d be happy to explain, miss.”

We all looked up to see a generic human player standing a few feet away. I frowned. His player name and HP bar weren’t visible, which I didn’t even think was possible.

“And who the hell are you?” Kaia sneered.

The man smiled. He had a kind, if not generic face. “My name is Adrius. I’m the reason you’ll all be staying in this game, for the foreseeable future.”

#Shadows and Thrones #Risty #Edun #Kaia #Lorson #VR #Writeblr #WIP #Thanks for reading! #Please like and reblog #If you enjoyed

[blueyesandleatherjacket]

Ghost of you, 15/?

Volume: 1.

Number of parts: 15/?.

Pairings: Human!Nine x Rose; Human!Ten x Jack; Clara Oswald x Olivia Baxter (OC).

Synopsis: "She felt it, it was time to speak about the weight on her shoulders. Something she had never done before."

A/N: I've started writing this fiction last year after I had a particularly weird dream (as usual) and after I wrote the prologue, I've put it aside to work on other stuff. I've gone back to it not so long ago and decided that it would be the fiction I would post next, after not posting anything for a while. I must have watched I am legend and Game of thrones way too much to come out with something like this but I hope you will like it. I am not a scientist, nor did I have a particular knowledge of sciences. I do my researches on the internet like everyone to make sure everything is as close to the reality as possible. I have a literature degree only. Writing is what I do and it makes me explore next fields, and learn new things.

“'Cause I'd rather feel your pain than nothing at all.” - Three Doors Down.

CHAPTER 15:

Amy woke up slowly. She was wrapped into a cocoon of warmth and well-being. She didn’t remember when was the last time she had felt so well. She stretched her body. She was taking all her time. She didn’t want to lose this precious well-being she hadn’t felt in ages. There was someone lay by her side. She rolled on her side and cuddled into the warm body beside her. She heard a smile and someone wrapped an arm around her. She must be dreaming but that dream was pleasurable. She liked it. She lazily wrapped her arm around that person. She didn’t know what she had expected but certainly not to be so close to a woman. This surprised her beyond words and she reluctantly rolled away from the unknown person she liked cuddling into. She couldn’t let herself go that way. The other woman reacted by trying to soothe her but Amy was too sleepy to be calmed down so easily. She needed to clear her mind first. Moaning, she pushed the hand away and rubbed her eyes. She stretched her body and looked around her. She wasn’t in her office but she wasn’t in her house either. It was a room she didn’t know. Had she done it again? Had she drunk until she had a blackout and been brought home by some stranger? There were pictures on the wall facing the bed. Pictures of a couple. Great, the woman she was with was married. She would have to deal with another cheated husband. She knew well that she didn’t have any control on herself when she was drunk. It was only a way to mute her pain. She was doing this when it was too strong, when it was suffocating her. She focused on the pictures on the wall. She wanted to see what the man she would have to face in the near future – because fate always made sure she faced them – looked like and the last pieces of the puzzle clicked together. It was Maxence Spitz. She remembered how she had ended up here. She had watched Rose work with Maxence for a while and the scientist had taken her into the private parts of the lab. They had had a quick lunch and they had settled down here. After a quick shower, they had lain down in bed and, reassured that she wasn’t alone for once, Amy had fallen asleep rather quickly. How much time had she slept? Had Rose watched her while she was asleep or had she slept too? It felt weird to be here, in this bed, with the wife of the man supposed to be her boss at the moment. But it was the start of a friendship. “How long have I slept?” A certain time according to her croaked voice and the feeling of being rested. She hadn’t felt this way in a very long time. It was before… “I’d say eight solid hours.” “Eight hours?” “You needed that sleep.” “And you?” “A couple hours.” Amy looked up at Rose. She was sat against a pile of pillows, glasses on her head and a book on her lap. She was reading and marking pages by folding their upper corner. Probably a book about her current researches. She looked as exhausted as before though. “You don’t look like someone who’s slept.” “Never said it was a good sleep.” “Do you have nightmares?” “I’m not the only one.” Rose looked away from her book to stare at Amy. Those whiskey eyes were clear on the meaning of those words. Somewhen during the night she had dreamt of this event and she must have screamed and cried and struggled against the sheets. “Sorry.” “Don’t be. I know what it is.” If there was something nice about Rose, it was that she wasn’t asking questions. She was giving her the time to consider the eventuality and if she wasn’t talking, she wouldn’t insist. She would wait until she was ready. “We all have our demons. You know mine already.” “But you don’t know mine.” “You’re not forced to talk to me.” “You’ve been comforting me, that’s the least I can do. You’re also the only one to care about me here.” Her voice was sad when she evoked this lack of friends in her surroundings. Rose was the first one to ever hold a hand out to her in this place and it felt amazing to have someone like her so close to her. Somehow, it felt easier to make friends in such a situation. She hesitantly snuggled closer to her new friend. “In my hometown, I’m known to sleep with married women,” she chuckled. “It only happened once but you know how people are.” “We all do mistakes.” “When my pain was suffocating me, I was going to a pub and drinking until I couldn’t feel it anymore. Once, I was taken home by a woman and I woke up in her bed. Only to be caught by her husband a couple hours later.” Amy fell silent after this admission. She was waiting for the judgement to come. People always judged a woman that was sleeping with someone married or that was having relations with another woman. But Rose didn’t say a thing. Instead, she pointed to a picture on the wall. A younger version of her and Maxence together in a park. Maxence had his arms around Rose and he was smiling brightly. Rose was just as happy on this picture. “This was the day we admitted our feelings to each other. It was one month after I broke up with Liv.” “You mean…” “Olivia Baxter, our doctor. We’ve known each other since forever. I’m totally bi. Not gonna judge you on this one.” “We didn’t…” “No.” Amy was relieved to know this at least. A friend that wasn’t judging her and that hadn’t let her make another mistake. Finally someone open minded. “Not enough alcohol in this building for us to be drunk. And I’m faithful.” “I used to be,” sadly murmured the therapist. She sat up and stared at the wall before her. She felt it, it was time to speak about the weight on her shoulders. Something she had never done before but Rose was offering her the trust and friendship she needed. It was all new but she knew deep down that she could say anything to this woman. She would listen and never judge. Hopefully. As a way to prove it, Rose took her hand and gently squeezed it. “The virus was already out when it happened. It wasn’t as bad as it is now. We could go out and have fun. And that’s what we did, my husband and son and I. There was a fair in our little town and we’ve spent the day there. It was a long and amazing day. My little boy, my William…” Her voice trailed off and she stopped speaking for a couple minutes. The anxiety was strangling her again. Rose didn’t say anything, she just stroked her hand with her thumb. A way to reassure her, to tell her that she wasn’t alone. After all, she was going through a loss too and she knew what it was. There was nothing to say at the moment. She could only listen. “We let him eat too much sugar and he was sick. I was driving so Bob, my husband, could deal with our son. He was blaming me for buying so much candy floss and so many sweets and I was trying to argue that our son’s happiness was the only thing that mattered. Every kid experiences sickness because of sweets at one point. But this argument signed our end. It distracted us.” She closed her eyes as the memories flew into her mind. She could see herself driving, her husband turned to watch William who was complaining about a belly ache. Two parents arguing and a sick child. She was looking for a place to stop the car so they could get out and breathe some fresh air to make the nausea disappear. And this man came out of nowhere. She brutally steered to avoid him and she lost the control of the car. No matter how hard she was trying to get the control back, the car kept sliding on the road and her husband was yelling at her and it was disturbing her. What had to happen happened. The car left the road and collided with a tree. The shock was so violent and so sudden that the airbags didn’t work. Her head bumped against the steering wheel and she thought it was over for her. “When I woke up, I was in the ICU. They waited until I was transferred to the light cares unit before telling me the truth. They haven’t suffered, they say. The collision killed them both instantly.” This was the last straw. Amy burst into tears and Rose wrapped her arms around her. She hugged her tight and rubbed her back while she cried all the pain that was still hurting her heart.

x

Zachary was worried. He had watched Maxence working and entering all the formula he had written on the wall on his personal space. Zachary had transferred the data to Tegan for him to approve of them. He would have to talk with Rose to be sure this was exact and to use those formula for their researches. But that wasn’t the reason why Zachary was so worried. After he was done, Maxence had cleaned the walls and instead of pacing around his cage, he had lain down and closed his eyes as if he was gonna sleep. At first, Zachary had thought he was doing it out of habit – a habit from when he was human – or because he was simply bored and wanted to look at the ceiling like he was often doing. Allegro was watching a movie in his cell. There was nothing to worry about for him. However, for Maxence, things were getting complicated. His brain seemed to have switched to a standby mode. A sort of sleep that wasn’t really sleep. He was just lying there with his eyes closed. Zachary was keeping an eye on his vital signs. His brain activity had reduced to the minimum, to the very minimum. If Zach didn’t have the other information under his eyes, he would think that the man was dead or about to be. Maybe he was dying. Zachary wasn’t very qualified on this field but he was clever enough to understand that something was wrong. The vital signs weren’t good at all. He entered an alert on their interactive group work. Someone needed to come and do a check up on him. Just to be sure that the fake cure given to him wasn’t having any effect on him anymore. Just a precaution not to lose him all of a sudden. Tegan was busy with the hacker and the maker of this fake cure at the moment and he wouldn’t be able to come before he was done. Rose had gone with Amy a little moment ago and they hadn’t come back yet. Jack and Clara were checking new formulas with Martha. Liv was probably getting some rest somewhere. All the qualified people of this team were busy elsewhere. Zachary hoped they would see the alert before anything happened to Maxence. That could be really bad. Allegro, on the other hand, was perfectly fine. All the effects of the ultraviolet were gone since they had turned off the lights and he hadn’t had any other fit of anger. Another check up was supposed to be done on him. If he was getting three negatives in a row, he would be able to come out of this place. It would be a relief but he wasn’t putting his hopes too high. He was bored in this cage but he was also very safe. Zachary was often chatting with him whenever he was having a small break. “Any good zombie movies to recommend to me?” It was just yesterday. Allegro was in a quite good mood and he wanted to joke. A zombie movie really was the easiest of jokes in the current times. That was why Allegro had asked for this. “What makes you think I’m a fan of zombie movies?” “You’re quite young. Young people love scaring themselves with those sorts of movies.” “Sorry to disappoint you, I’m prefer comedies and anime series. I love a good documentary too.” “Still a kid inside.” “What’s the point of growing up if you can’t be childish at times?” “I like your philosophy but I unfortunately have seen too many horrors to find my innocence again.” Just like Jack, Allegro had been a soldier before. When his contract with the army was over, he hadn’t renewed it. Instead, he had started looking for small jobs that were less stressful and that didn’t require traveling that much. That’s how he had ended up being a security member of this lab. Not a bad job during the good times. “You’re locked in there for a while, why not bringing back all those memories from your childhood? I’m sure the cartoons you used to watch are still available.” “How old do you think I am?” Zachary chuckled. He knew how old Allegro was. He was gonna turn forty soon. On normal times, some of his colleagues would have organised a small surprise party. Just to celebrate this special day. This lab could be such a perfect place sometimes. “Old enough to listen to those songs no one knows on Jazz FM.” “I like this radio. It’s relaxing.” “More a fan of Beethoven, me.” “That is surprising.” “I like rock music. I wish I could have gone to a Maiden concert. I guess it’s a dream that will never come true though.” “You can’t know. They maybe will find a cure that will save this world.” “It will take a while before people start trusting other people again to gather into public places.” “There’s this band I really like. A French band. It’s quite special but it’s really good. Ever heard of Indochine?” “If that’s not about this part of the world, then, I don’t what it is.” “It inspired the name. Listen to it. It’s really nice.” That’s how Zach had ended up on YouTube to listen to that French band while Allegro was taking a nap. Old school, bit weird, but very good. He really liked the music. Some of their songs were bringing energy and good vibes. It certainly was appreciated. “Are you watching one of those cartoons again?” joked Allegro. “Nope.” “That seems entertaining.” “It is. That’s the band you’ve told me about. I don’t understand half the lyrics but their music is nice.” “You can’t understand them. There isn’t any sense to their lyrics most of the time.” “Not sure about it.” “That’s not what’s causing you to be so anxious though.” “No. I’m keeping an eye on Maxence’s vital signs and they haven’t been good for a couple hours. I’ve entered an alert but no one has seen it yet.” “Is this that bad?” “If there wasn’t this information on my screen, I’d thought he’s dead. He hasn’t moved in hours.” “And no one had come? That’s weird.” “They’re all busy. T is on the hacker case. Rose is with the therapist. Jack and Clara and Martha are busy with some new formulas. I have no idea where Liv can be. And there’s nothing…” He was interrupted in his explanation by the striding sound and the red alert on his screens. Maxence sat up straight suddenly, gasping for air. He tapped the wall for someone to help him. Zach was powerless but thankfully, he saw Liv, fully dressed into a hazmat suit, running straight to his cage. She had seen the alert, he thought with relief. Maxence was coughing now. He still couldn’t breathe. He fell down the bed, on his hands and knees. Liv tried to talk to him but he wasn’t listening. All he wanted was air. She placed an oxygen mask on his face. He greedily breathed in that pure air finally reaching his lungs. “Breathe slowly, Maxence. Very slowly.” He wasn’t listening. He was too focused on taking as much air as he could. He was feeling better now that he could breathe again. He looked up at Liv and saw the sadness and fear in her eyes. She pressed her fingers on his ear briefly and pulled them back. The tip of her gloves was covered with a crimson sticky fluid. Blood. He touched his face, his ears, his nose, his mouth and his fingers were covered with the same blood. It wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all. “We’re gonna have to make you go through another scan.” She had seen his latest results and they were bad. Jack had created an alert about it earlier this week. Zachary’s had made an echo to this alert and was telling them that the situation was getting worse. Maxence was fighting the virus and it was slowly killing him. Liv cupped his cheek. “You have to stop fighting. I know you don’t want to, but you have to. It’s important. You’re dying, Maxence.” Dying. The word echoed in his mind. Wasn’t he already dying? Wasn’t he dead since the moment he had been infected? He wanted to get better and he needed to be himself to find that cure. He couldn’t be himself if he stopped fighting. Rose wanted him to fight. So he had to keep fighting. Whatever it caused him. “I’m serious, Max. You might not hold on until we find that cure if you don’t let the virus win.” He shook his head and put the mask back on his face. Liv was amazed to see how aware he was of his surroundings. She knew it was because he was fighting but it was still a shock to see it. “Rose will understand. Nightwalkers don’t die from the virus unless they get involved in fights. You can’t be both. You’ll get back to your real self, but not now.” He pushed the mask away once again. His breathing was much better. He didn’t need it anymore. He gave it back to Liv. She would probably have to destroy it now. She wouldn’t use it on someone healthy. Or she would keep it for him if he was having another fit. “You can let go. It’s okay.” He didn’t want to. He refused to. He didn’t want to abandon his friends, his team. He wanted to help them as much as he could. Even if he had to die for this. He shook his head and Liv took her hand away from his face. “I’ll always be there to save you like you’ve saved me if you keep fighting. I won’t let you die.” He was surprised by the sudden change of speech from the young woman. What was making her change her mind so quickly? There must be a reason for that. “You never gave up when I was in troubles,” she murmured. “So I’m never gonna give up until you’re better.” Next thing he knew, she was hugging him tight. The plastic of the suit creaked. It was rather unpleasant to feel this against his skin but it was the first time he was given a hug in forever. So he hugged her back. It wasn’t the same as hugging Rose but it was okay. He liked it. Finally someone wasn’t afraid of the nightwalker him.

x

Tegan quickly walked to the public workspace where Camden and Donna were working. Camden had asked for him to come because they had found a clue for the patient zero. Even if it was good news, he wasn’t pleased to be interrupted in his rest. He had sorted things out with Colin and made him lock away in an empty area of the lab with guards to be sure he wouldn’t run away. It was also for him to be fed and taken care of if there was any problem. This was a solved case. While he was resting after Liv healed him, there had been this alert from Zachary that was causing him to be anxious. So anxious that he was on the edge of panicking. That was why Liv had insisted on him resting. She would check on Maxence and keep him updated. His head was pounding and his face was painful. Colin had quite a punch and doing nothing to protect himself had been a clever but dangerous move. He was paying for it but that pain was highly satisfying knowing the result. He had remained on the couch of his office for a moment before another mail came. A mail from Camden requiring his presence immediately. He had sighed and made his way there. He couldn’t refuse any clue when it was for a cure that would save Maxence. “I hope that’s not a deadlock. I’m not in the mood for fake hopes.” Speaking was hurting because it was using too many muscles that were bruised and sensitive but he couldn’t avoid this conversation. It was too crucial. Donna opened her eyes wide when she saw his face and Camden raised an interrogative eyebrow. This place was rather interesting in the end. The interactions between the scientists seemed to be highly charged. More than in a usual lockdown situation. There were personal matters interfering. It was fascinating. “What has happened to you?” “Bad moves while training.” “I’ve studied biology. This is not an accident.” “Whatever. This is not what brings me here, right?” “Jack and Clara will tell you I’m a very curious man.” “He is,” confirmed Donna. “And I never give up until I have my answers.” “That’s also true,” sighed the red-haired woman. “Well, look for all the answers you want and give me what I’ve come for.” Tegan sat down on the chair facing Camden and pushed the cardboard boxes that were in front of him. He folded his arms on his chest. He wanted to go back to his couch with an ice pack and an aspirin. But he was as curious as Camden and wanted his answers. “As a scientist, you must know what the Xeroderma Pigmentosum is.” “Yes. An extremely rare disease that makes every patient unable to bear the UV lights.” “And did you know there were researches to find a cure?” “Just like every cancer on Earth, there always has been researches for Xeroderma Pigmentosum. Get straight to the point.” Camden gathered a couple of papers that were scattered in front of him and pushed them toward Tegan. The neurologist took them. He didn’t understand where Camden was going but it was because his pain was distracting him. “We’ve found out that the most important researches were done by someone called Myrtle Appleton. Here, in England.” “However,” continued Donna, “she was sacked from the lab she was working in because she was using unconventional methods. It was a couple days before the virus hit the world officially.” “But she didn’t stop her researches. She has done them clandestinely.” “So, you’re telling me that this Myrtle Appleton was running experiences secretly and that one of these experiences might have gone wrong and provoked this whole mess?” “Yes.” Tegan put the documents down. He hadn’t even read them. His mind was focused on something else, something that didn’t please him at all. He jumped to his feet and left the workspace. He made his way to the empty part of the building where Colin was locked. Their paths kept crossing and Tegan really, really hated it…

To be continued...

Ghost of you © | 2017 - 2018 | Tous droits réservés.

×××

In the next chapter:

Colin was outrageously relaxed for someone who had been sacked and locked away. Tegan was resisting the envy of throwing him out of the lab and letting him see how he would survive out there. It was a chance that it hadn’t done it yet since Colin was gonna be really useful if he accepted to speak. Tegan wouldn’t get inside his prison. It would be playing Colin’s game. He would just do what he had to do by staying outside. One black eye was enough for him. He observed Colin. The scientist was laid on the desk of the room and watching the ceiling. He had a smirk on his face. He didn’t seem bothered at all by the whole situation. He was annoyed to have been caught but he was living it quite well. And this was infuriating Tegan. How could this mad scientist be so happy with himself when he almost killed a man?

×××

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English version:

AO3 || FF || TS || Wattpad.

#doctor who #ninth doctor #rose tyler #tenth doctor #jack harkness #doctor x rose #ficandchips #dw fic #ghost of you

[itsalliepg]

Drabbles - Mark x Renata (MC) - Part 1

SUMMARY: An anthology about Mark and Renata (MC)

PAIRING: Mark x Renata (MC)

RATING: Everyone

WORDS: 1803 divided in 7 drabbles

NOTE: Hey! Here some drabbles I made based on this post here. I divided in two parts. English isn’t my native language. I write to practice and learn, so please sorry any mistakes. I hope you like it, and if you do, I’d appreciate if you like/comment/reblog!Tagging  @seawhite-seafair @maxwells-nut@writtenbycandy @teamtomsato @endlessly-searching-for-you @thedepthsremember

1. “This has to be the second best day of my life.” Words: 317 

            After a day of working at Net4U, Renata came home and found Mark in the kitchen. He was putting something in the oven, and she could already identify the smell.

            _Mmm…lasagna…my favorite…- Mark turned to her and smiled.

            _I know – she approached him and he caught her lips in a passionate kiss – I went to the grocery today, and decided to cook something special for my beautiful girlfriend – she grinned – so, how was your day?

            _It was great! – Renata said excitedly, and Mark’s eyes widened in surprise – my last article had the record of clicks, Leah and I realized we already have enough money to hire another Net4U collaborator! – she took a dress from the bag in her hands – I went into a boutique, because of this gorgeous dress, and I found out the only dress they had was this one, that was in the shop window and was my size! – he giggled – and now my amazing boyfriend is cooking my favorite dish!

            _How lucky you are!

            _I know! This has to be the second best day of my life! – Mark turned to her, arching an eyebrow.

            _Really? – he wrapped his arms around her waist – and what’s your first best day?

            _Well, obviously the day Net4U won that prize… - Renata wrapped her arms around his neck.

            _Of course – he kissed her forehead – which is also the day our relationship became official, right?

            _Oh, yeah? I don’t remember that – she said innocently – if it wasn’t for the award, this would be the fourth or fifth best day of my life – Mark rolled his eyes, but kissed Renata deeply. She pulled back panting.

            _And now? – he smirked.

            _Well…now it’s the third one – she winked.

            _Oh? So I guess I’ll have to do something after dinner to make you change your mind – they shared a sly smile and kissed again – I love you, Renata.

            _I love you too, Mark.

2. “Your hair is the softest thing I have ever had the blessing of touching.” Words: 269

           On a Saturday afternoon, Mark and Renata were sitting on the couch watching TV. At some point, he lay down on the couch and rested his head on her lap. She laughed.

           _It’s me who usually does it – they smiled and she stroked his hair, as he did when she lay on his lap. After a while, he sighed.

           _If I tell you something you promise me you will not be angry?

           _Of course no, Mark! – she widened her eyes – why?

           _Well, my shampoo was over and I used yours…

           _...and?

           _Was it. I used your shampoo.

           _Mark, did you really think I’d be mad at you over of a shampoo? – she tickled his stomach.

           _It’s yours, Renata. I used it without asking permission.

           _Well, you don’t have to ask permission to use my things, okay? – she enlaced her hand on his and kissed his knuckles. He grinned.

           _Thanks. But I must confess I’ve always wanted to try on your shampoo – Renata chuckled.

           _Really? Why?

           _Well, your hair is the softest thing I have ever had the blessing of touching – Mark put his hand to her hair and stroked it – I’m not so vain, but I wanted to see what it would do to my hair – she laughed.

           _You’re lovely, Mark Collins – she turned her head and kissed his hand – and I think you should use my shampoo from now on. Your hair is significantly soft.

           _You think so? – he smiled broadly.

           _Definitely – she smiled back.

           _There’s another thing I love about this shampoo: it smells like you – he caressed her cheek. Blushing slightly, she bent to kiss him.

 3. “I don’t know, go eat a cabbage or something.” Words: 203

           _Nata…- Mark sat beside Renata in the bed, and softly tucked her hair behind her ear.

           _Hum? – she asked, still looking at her laptop.

           _Come play video game with me? – he asked, almost begging.

           _I already said we can do it later, baby.

           _Pleeeease? – he pouted, looking at her with puppy eyes. She finally looked at him.

           _I’m busy, Mark. I have to finish this article, review and post today.

           _Aaaah, I hate when you bring work home…what am I going to do until you finish?

           _I don’t know, go eat a cabbage or something.

           _What? – he grimaced – you know I hate cabbage!            _Exactly. You’ll be pretty busy trying to eat something you don’t like. Who knows you end up liking cabbage – she arched an eyebrow to him, and he laughed.

           _You call me a dork, but so do you – he kissed her cheek.

           _I know. It’s daily living with you – Mark rolled his eyes.

           _I don’t know if I’m offended or flattered – Renata brushed her nose against his.

           _Believe me, it was a compliment – he smiled.

           _Thank you – he sighed – okay, I’m not going to bother you anymore.

           _Thanks – she returned to her article, and he picked up his phone and earphones.

 4. “Leaving me alone was everyone’s first mistake.” Words:249

           _Hello, Mark! – Renata greeted as he locked the front door. She walked to him for a kiss – how was your day?

           _It was…interesting. My room is being renovated, and I have to share a room with three interns, who kept talking all the time. I was getting very annoyed and didn’t know what to do, and finally they left the room to do, I don’t know what. When the room finally fell silent, I noticed how my head was aching.

           _Oh, poor Mark – she massaged his temples – but dit you get to work?

           _Well, I took advantage of my solitude and I worked on the plot for a new game.

           _Oh, that’s nice! – she smiled – so, can I see the drabbles you did?

           _Actually, the drafts are almost ready – he showed the graphics on his tablet.

           _Mark! Did you do all this in just one day? – Renata’s eyes widened.

           _Leaving me alone was everyone’s first mistake – he grinned proudly – I found out when I’m annoyed I feel more creative.

           _So I think you should hire some interns to bother you from now on – they burst into laughter and shared a deep kiss – how about we order a takeout to celebrate?

           _Great idea – Mark hugged Renata and kissed her again – and I think your hands are magic, my head isn’t aching anymore.

           _Oh, you know very well how powerful my hands are – she winked.

           _Mmm…I think I’ll have to see this more closely later – he smirked and they kissed again.

 5. “So, funny story, I might have done some not so intentional redecorating when you were gone.” Words: 314

           Renata got home after going to the gym, and noticed something different in the living room.

           _Mark? Are you there? – Mark came out of the bedroom.

           _Hey, baby – he smiled and kissed her – did you see the wall? – he pointed to a landscape painting hanging above the couch.

           _Yeah, I saw the wall, the rack, the chairs…what happened here?

           _This painting is too beautiful to hang in our bedroom, so I decided to put it here. But the best place was this wall, so we could see when we got home. But it didn’t look good above the TV, so I had to put the rack there – he pointed out – and of course, the couch and the chairs had to move places too, or we couldn’t watch TV! – she giggled – I didn’t mean to change everything, I just wanted to put the painting here, and when I realized, the living room was completely different. So, funny story, I might have done some not so intentional redecorating when you were gone – he took her hands – so, did you like it?

           _Actually, I liked this setup more than the previous one! – Renata grinned – it was a great idea to bring the painting here! And here I thought you were into Feng Shui or something…

           _Feng…what? – Mark grimaced and Renata shook her head, smiling.

           _Never mind, it’s nothing. So, what do we do now? – she wrapped her arms around his neck.

           _What about we take advantage of this change of positions in the room and try new positions as well? – he blinked in surprise – sorry, this sounded better in my mind…

           _I love the idea! – she interrupted, laughing – but I have to take a shower first, I just left the gym.

           _Well, I need a shower too. I’m all sweaty from dragging the furniture – he smirked before taking her in his arms and walking to the bathroom.

6. “That fish looks like me! Look! We have the same distant cold stare.” Words: 280

           _Okay, what kind of animal do you want, Nata? – Mark asked s they arrived at the animal shelter.

           _If you don’t mind, I’d love a cat. I always wanted one, but my sister is allergic – Renata smiled when she saw a Siamese cat in a cage and walked over there – awwww, aren’t you the cutest thing in the world? – she approached and the cat bat its paw in the cage – I think she likes me!

           _How do you know it’s a girl?

           _This little sign here says her name is Lola…I like that – Renata opened the cage and took Lola in her arms. The cat snuggled up and purred – Mark…

           _I think it’s fate. She has to come with us, right, Lola? – he smiled and stroked Lola’s head, and she moved closer to his hand.

           _She likes you too! Oh, my God, she’s the one, baby! – Renata bounced, holding Lola tight – let’s go to sign the adoption papers!

           _Sure, let’s go – Mark took her hand and they walked over the counter. Next to them, she noticed a bunch of aquariums and stared at them for a while – did you find something interesting?

           _That fish looks like me! Look! We have the same distant cold stare –Renata pointed to a golden fish. Mark looked at it, attentively.

           _Mmm…you’re right. It looks like you when you’re working and ignore me – he smirked and she pinched his cheek.

           _And Lola looks like you when I’m working and you want to cuddle – she looked at the cat in her arms. When Renata said that, Lola stretched and snuggled even closer to her. They giggled.

           _I have no doubt she’s the perfect pet for us.

7. “You know what, I don’t really feel like getting tortured today, can you just let me go with a stern warning.” Words:171

           Mark was leaving the apartment to go to work, when Renata appeared in front of him, arms folded.

           _What?

           _You forgot to do the dishes last night – he tapped his forehead.

           _Sorry, babe. I really forgot.

           _This will have consequences for you, mister – she remained serious.

           _Oh? – he widened his eyes – what kind of consequences?

           _Bad consequences.

           _ You know what, I don’t really feel like getting tortured today, can you just let me go with a stern warning? – Renata sighed and rolled her eyes.

           _Okay, I’ll give you a chance. If you don’t wash tonight, you will sleep on the couch – she arched an eyebrow, trying to suppress a laugh, but she let out when he tickled her – this is unfair! I can’t get mad at you!

           _Believe me, I know – he kissed her deeply, and she pulled back grinning – don’t worry, the first thing I’ll do when I get back from work is wash everything.

           _Okay – she smiled – I love you so much, Mark.

           _I love you too, Nata.

Thanks for reading!

Let me know if you want to be tagged in future fanfics!

#lovehacks #lh #mark collins #mark x mc #mark x renata #fanfic #choices fanfic #choices #playchoices #long post

[browndragon]

Liquid Tiles and State Machines

Hello again! I got stuck in a rabbit hole, but I had fun.

One of the things I built is strictly less fun than the other, so I'll lead with it even though it's not what you wanted. The other is the pretty video above.

State Machines

TL;DR: See https://www.npmjs.com/package/@browndragon/sm .

I got annoyed that the big state machines in javascript were too verbose for what I wanted, so I wrote my own. I think I've already written this post, but this time it's even better.

Each "state" (inconsistently called a node) is a function that returns another node. You load some initial node up in a state machine (here called Cursor). The Cursor invokes its current node whenever you call next (and whatever it returns is the next node). However! It's invoked in the context of the Cursor itself, so you get some interesting bells and whistles automatically: this.here is the current node, for instance -- normally it's hard to get access to that in javascript, but not so here. Since they're each function objects, they're less prone to object equality stupidity of certain sorts, and more prone to it of other sorts. There is no method to predeclare the set of states that exist, so your states can create states (by returning inner functions for instance). These are all features I thought I'd need ;).

You can write nodes that assume they're useful for their side effects, or nodes that assume you'll examine the state machine's here. Cursors implement the iterable & iterator interfaces, so you can use them in loops and such also.

However, for more power you need the full Machine (which extends Cursor). This does things like track state for every node (which is why the nodes are not called states...), with advanced features like history, traps (so that if a node returns undefined it can be rebound to actually go to handleUndefined()), and similar. This makes them O(n) in the number of nodes (and indeed, O(n) in the number of calls to next), but sometimes that's the featureset you need!

Give it a try. Or don't!

Liquid Tiles

TL;DR: The demo above, but the code isn't published anywhere [yet].

I kept playing with dough connected by springs, but I think I'd need to do tile deformation or shader tricks to make the dough look good. As written, the arbitrary offsets allowed glue tiles to shift, leaving gaps. Ensuring coverage would require stretching the tiles or having additional backing color. Or: a change in scheme.

Dough is just a really thick liquid, right? (Over a long enough timescale, aren't all solids?) So how would I model a liquid? I might do it with freely chosen blocks connected by links (the current dough system), but that would likely be too chaotic. Instead, I'd probably split the liquid up into regular domains and analyze each domain. So I did that! Liquid tiles are the result, a system similar-to but different-from phaser Tilemaps, but providing a similar grid-based interface to the world.

First, the data structure

I'm continuously at a loss for high quality datastructures, so instead I write my own low-quality ones. I needed a store of tile information -- unindexed integer 2-tuple keys, arbitrary1 values. Easy enough; I wrote a dense one which uses an allocated array of fixed size (so that array[y*width+x] is the value for (x,y)) and a sparse one which uses fully arbitrary (x,y) pairs and stores points under their stringification. As I write this, I realize that these data structures are not so very different in javascript, where arrays can arbitrarily allocate keys, but what's done is done.

I called the keys in this datastructure x,y tuples, but that's not entirely true: they're really u,v tuples; I wrote a little tilemath class to hold the geometry for mapping between an XY space (like phaser) into the UV space of the tiles (like the tilemap indices) and vice-versa. I am pretty sure it still has some ugly edge effects (tiles do nothing to fix the default anchor(0.5, 0.5), potentially favoring the top/left sides! etc), but it's functional by visual test. The naming scheme (xy space vs uv space) provides very sensible method names -- u(x) is pretty unambiguous. There's no obvious uv analogue to width and height, so I settled for uCount and vCount, which is what it is.

Second, a dip in the Pool

Obviously, we need a Pool of tiles (where tiles are just managed instances of Image, Sprite, or subclasses). A Pool is obviously a Group2, providing mechanisms to manipulate its managed contents -- putTileAt and removeTileAt for instance. But then the next question: what are you putting in these tiles; how are you passing the grid-based information which you need to pass to them into them? I say that Tilemap got this right, you're passing them a tileId (whatever your arbitrary first parameter to putTileAt is); I say that Tilemap got this wrong in that it knew that tileIds were lookups into arrays which were preregistered along with spritesheet geometry etc.

Everything else: mappings and shadows

Anyway: I created Conformers to address the problem of how to map tileId onto actual asset. Conformers are functions which take a tile entry (a gameObject, uv coordinates, tileId, maybe other stuff) and makes the game object conform with the other parameters. A simple one can setFrame(someTexture, someFrame) by just looking the tileId up in a big array; a more complex one might play(someAnimation) or do wangId calculations or whatever. This is also a great place to put state transition logic, since you can detect whether this conformation is a change from a previous state, or a put for a state that the tile was already in.

Okay! Now we're ready: since I know I want this to follow dough blobs around, and the doughblobs are acted upon by the rest of the physics system, I needed some ability to have a sprite "cast" an effect into the dough tile system. I called this a ShadowPool (which extends Pool extends AutoGroup extends Group). Every element of the shadow pool's WatchGroup casts a shadow into the pool made of tileIds; each tile's tileId the bitwise or of its place within the element's boundary (so for instance the upper left corner of an element's boundary is 0b0010, the bit for the lower right corner set.) That, at long last, is what the video above is showing, with fancy transition effects.

Next?

The animation of specific dough elements remains tricky; doughjiggle is still going to look bad under this new quantized regime, even as the interior of the dough looks better. But now I can emulate slugs, and spilled paint, and footprints, and other mass nouns without feeling like I've got to pay the cost of a full tilemap. Indeed, since tilemap layers render in one pass, using a pool even for walls might let me do the fabled "figure in front of bush & behind tree" 3/4 view I've been after this whole time. Certainly the ability to "layer" collisions by material type is very valuable to me, and missing from the current tilemap classes.

I'm now imagining a hybrid scheme: dough is drawn as nodules (free moving spheres of dough with weakly drawn borders) on top of a ShadowPool which draws the base of the nodule, thus the outline of the dough group (wang tiles with strongly drawn borders). Dough regions which quiesce could remove the nodule and mark the tiles from the shadow pool as "permanent", so that they can take over the nodule's mass. Animating the movement of the base can add more detail to this, since it can theoretically hide the quantization by masking portions of the tile and sliding it out in the (known!) direction of change. For instance, if the tile had been undefined and now has the bottom right set, it is clearly sliding in from the bottom right. This will cause slightly strange initial effects (of course), but edge effects are to be expected.

Fast moving dough would be represented as nodules (large borders). Slow speed dough would be thin-border nodules on top of a ShadowPool, sticking-and-unsticking the dough and an unstable equilibrium. Stopped dough would be pure ShadowPool entries. Dough spring would be provided via interaction with the shadowpool.

I mean, arbitrary at first. Obviously they're gonna be tiles. ↩︎

As an implementation note, each Pool is actually a singleton group; that's just more convenient to my way of thinking about these things. ↩︎

#gamedev #phaser

[notdeadjusttrash-blog]

My Friend has been Falsely Accused of Tracing So I Will Defend Him

Okay I accidentally deleted the blog I posted this one because I’m a dumbass, so I’ll just repost it here even though I don’t use this blog anymore, but apparently I still have followers. Bless caches because I was able to get this back from google caches so I don’t have to retype everything. I added further evidence and refutes to claims that were not in my original post btw.

Anyways, I am making this post to help out my good friend @5ru9 aka Falco who has been recently accused of tracing/copy pasting other people’s / official art!

I’ve known Falco for over 3 years, and we’ve grown as artists together. Once in a while we give each other advice on art (thanks for the mech and armor advice and teaching me how you line and color!), but most of the time we just meme each other.

Anyways, a lot of people have pointed out that they’ve seen him livestream before, and he’s already posted some of his block outs and other wips as proof that he does not trace in his post here:

http://5ru9.tumblr.com/post/168277137427/hello-i-have-been-informed-about-a-callout-post

To further prove his claim with solid evidence, I shall present to you!

Times he’s asked for advice on his art, or I randomly decided to mention things I notice in his WIPs!

Exhibit A-1:

A Tenkai Knight he made up! I pointed out a few things I thought were awkward about the perspective in his WIP.

Exhibit A-2:

He started working on this way back in July and didn’t finish it until much later because he was working on several other pieces at the same time. I suggested lowering the eyebrows and drawing the eyes a bit narrower to get more of the playful expression he was aiming for. In his final piece here, you can see that Falco continued to refine the piece.

By the way! The reason he sometimes posts a lot of detailed artworks one shortly after the other is because he sometimes works on multiple pieces at once! And then finishes coloring them around the same time.

Exhibit A-3

Falco and I spent good time trying to figure out why he felt like something was wrong with his sketch! I thought maybe it was the trapezius and I decided to red line (or blue line i guess) it so it’d be easier for him to see approximately where i thought the line should go to fix it.

Exhibit A-4:

The gif-ing process turned white bg into blue… anyways! Falco showed me an early version of his Tenkai Knights OC that he eventually used in an April Fool’s joke to pass off as a new character in the series. He mastered the tenkai style enough that at first glance, people really did believe it was official! Like you had to get a good look to realize Shiyu was not really a real new character! Btw I had to go into my old twitter acc to find this…. (Edit: the gif wasn’t working bc it was too big so i had to make it smaller… and choppier and stuff to fit the mb max)

Well now that brings us into!!!

Exhibit B

Some of his old art!! (I’m so sorry falco i’ll be exposing your ancient art to ppl now)

Here you can see his progress from 2014 Tenkai fan art to early 2015! It starts looking more and more like the official art, which is what he was going for.

For reference, here’s what the character Ceylan Jones/Washizaki looks like:

I blocked out fan art by everyone except falco (which i marked) that shows up in this google search. Everything else is official art. The two fan arts by falco you see here are more recent, the angel one being from 2016 and the chicken one from 2017 (i think he also made a version with sonic instead of the chicken? lol). They’re both on his dA accounts btw! The 2017 one really looks like official art, doesn’t it? But it’s his artwork! He practiced a LOT to reach that point, and I hope the earlier arts I showed above this one are enough to convince you in his art progression! Side note: i only used images w/ceylan because 1. i’m biased because ceylan is my favorite character and 2. he drew ceylan a lot because ceylan is his favorite character Also you can see his handle change from s3iwashi to burningbraven. 5ru9 is is a pretty recent handle.

ANYONE WHO HAS BEEN IN THE TENKAI FANDOM FOR A WHILE CAN VOUCH FOR HIM!!!!!

And now for the last one,

Exhibit C

WHAT? WHO IS THIS???

This is my favorite character from a Chinese series called AOTU World! His name is Grey, or 格瑞。I commissioned Falco to draw Grey for me, and let me tell you it would be IMPOSSIBLE for him to have copied any of this. Why? Because the donghua is 3D and the manhua’s art is very inconsistent!

Let me show you the reference pictures I gave him to work with!

They’re all in my gdrive folder here: https://drive.google.com/open?id=1CqwH5KS-pHX0ZqLHQpoIZBi6W-gsU_Tz

This is all official art from the manhua, except the 3D model is from the donghua. Look at how inconsistent the references are! There’s no way he could have copy and pasted or traced this! Grey doesn’t even do this particular pose anywhere. lol. I told Falco “give him a cool sword pose”. (I’m sorry for being so vague, Falco! But it turned out great!!) The style he ended up drawing in was a mixture of all of them.

Btw!! here’s the blockout and the sketch he sent me before I sent my payment for the commission!! You can see his construction in the block out!! The arm construction and leg construction is light, but it’s there. You can also see the block out below the sketch. Notice he actually fixed the leg length from block out -> sketch?

ARGUMENTS AGAINST SPECIFIC ACCUSATIONS

LOOK, thte actual drawing doesn’t even match the sprites that closely. Pay attention to the collar especially. The whole frankensteining the image and then painting over it thing is just way more effort than drawing it himself. They don’t even match that well in the overlays. Like wow it’s such a crime to try and stay on model.

WHO WOULD EVEN NEED TO TRACE A MOUTH LIKE THAT? IT’S SO EASY TO DRAW. I CAN DRAW IT PERFECTLY JUST BY LOOKING AT IT. (well i AM an animator so I also do style mimicking)

Doesn’t the fact that you have to edit the sprites to match his artwork prove that you’re just a tryhard in making up fake evidence and not a tryhard enough at art since you think it’s so impossible for people to draw characters on model?

Yes he referenced the broom and possibly the heels from this image, but your overlays for the leg and arms are disingenuous and you know it. The leg positions are different, and the overlay doesn’t even match up. Face tracing also makes no sense. You literally stretched the mouth to try and make it fit but it still doesn’t fit. Do you really think it’s that hard to draw mouths and eyes in the DR style? DR faces are really simple to emulate. Also you fool, if you follow Falco’s artwork enough, you’d realize the way he draws bodies is actually rather consistent even as he does different styles. Especially when it comes to hands. His way of drawing hands is how I recognize his art and know right away it’s his art and not official art or a trace (also his coloring style). The heels he drew are also reminiscient of how he typically draws shoes/feet. he draws them bulkier. The other art has dainty heels. At most he referenced how backside works because he’s used to drawing sneakers.

Also come on, if all you referenced from an image was a broom because you liked the style (his is also clearly drawn by himself since you can’t overlay it on the other one. like i said he mostly used the style as a reference for how-to-broom) and you referenced pieces from many other images, are you going to list every single thing you referenced? While yeah it’d be nice to, it’s a little ridiculous to expect all 5-20 references whenever they post the image. It’s a thing where, if someone asks, you’d tell them, but it’s too much to list all of it. This isn’t a 20 page thesis.

If it’s such a crime, then holy shit sue all those people who parody other people’s comics and sue everyone who dares!!! to ever draw something remotely similar to someone else. Dang.

Art doesn’t live in a vacuum.

Okay, this one is just plain stupid. You distorted the sprite to match it up with his, but what would be the point for him to distort it just to trace? Also if he traced, can you explain the rest of the fingers that are drawn nicely but clearly different from the sprite? Also the thumbs don’t even match up. His faces more downward while the sprite is facing more forward. Also explain the turned body in Falco’s sketch, then!! And the hair! OH WAIT YOU CAN’T EXPLAIN IT BY ANY OTHER WAY THAN HE DREW IT HIMSELF!!! BECAUSE NO SPRITES MATCH IT AND YOU CAN’T FIND ANY SPRITES TO DISTORT ENOUGH TO EVEN GET CLOSE TO MAKING FAKE EVIDENCE FOR IT.

By the way, the style he drew it in is closer to the drv3 than this sprite. while it’s pretty much the same style as the older games, drv3′s art is more refined than the older games. Falco’s art is also more refined as you can see. (wow not only did falco’s art improved from back when we first met; even professional artists improve. shocker. /s)

Dude what the hell? The overlays don’t even match up even ifi you tried to frankenstein them. And these are really common poses at really common angles, and once again, must every single thing we reference from be listed in the description of every place we post an image? Let me just list all 30 videos and 50 images i used as reference for one of my prints. jfc.

As for the saihara animation based on the digimon opening animation? It was pretty clear to everyone that it’s some kind of parody. Many people when making parody animations don’t mention the original video either?? It’s a fun thing for fans of the franchise to recognize the reference themselves. Yes he could have said it was the digimon opening on the description, but at least he didn’t say he thought of the idea himself? And if you talk to him about the animation, he will openly tell you it’s from digimon. And the fact that you think it’s a trace despite how much the overlays do NOT work out is practically proof that you’re just doing this maliciously and hoping that saying he traces enough with shoddy evidence will make people believe you.

ALSO PEOPLE LITERALLY TRACE ANIMATIONS TO MAKE PARODIES OF, DOWN THE STYLE WHERE ALL THEY CHANGE IS THE HAIR AND OUTFIT, AND YET SOMETHING WITH DIFFERENCES EVEN DOWN TO THE STYLE LIKE THIS IS SOMETHING YOU THINK IS A TRACE? Do you need a new pair of glasses?

I was gonna ignore this one because it was the same as a lot of the others, but you literally erased Falco’s face line so it would match the sprite, and you covered the bigger boobs Falco gave her, and totally ignored that the angle doesn’t even match properly. Like you covered parts of his sketch in your overlay just to make it look more like it matches, but if you actually fucking overlayed it correctly, even with squashing it, it won’t fit. (Also sorry to point this out Falco, but the circles on your goggle lenses are too small compared to the sprite; Maybe if you actually traced like this person claims you’re doing, they’d be perfectly like the sprite. OH BUT WAIT YOU DREW IT YOURSELF SO OF COURSE THERE’S SOME DIFFERENCES. JUST LIKE HOW EVEN THOUGH ALL YOUR OTHER WORKS ARE REALLY CLOSE TO THE STYLE AND PRETTY MUCH ON MODEL, THEY’RE NOT EXACTLY THE SAME WITH THE SPRITES! SHOCKER...!)

HOLY FUCK. I already pointed out and gave evidence that Falco started on the Nier Automata drawing waaaaaaay before he posted the actual picture. The 2 sketches are sketches! They don’t take a super long time. I busted out 10 inktobers in 1 day. (thumbnails of my artwork below)

Look I even even lined and colored 5 fairly detailed chibis in 1 day (i did the sketches earlier though. btw i hand drew the plaid on ray. it was annoying)

At the moment I have 5 wips. They’ll likely all be done around the same time. I know Falco often has multiple wips as well, and sometimes he also finishes some of them close to each other. Some artists (like my friend Fish) can pump out extremely detailed paintings in less than a day. WOW some artists can draw at a fairly fast rate. WHO KNEW? (manga artists in weekly magazines pump out 15-20 pages of manga in a week)

He’s still developing a style; he’s mostly doing style mimics of series he likes in the mean time.

At the moment he’s mostly experimenting with the drv3 style, but he was practicing p5 earlier. By the way, he DESIGNED a phantom outfit for mishima. Who the heck would he copy that from? He made it up because he loved mishima and wanted to make him part of the gang in some AU fan art. Mishima doesn’t have artwork like this for him to trace, so it should be obvious it’s his own work.

And the pokemon and crash bandicoot ones are actually not that close. The pokemon one looks like a good attempt at imitating the pokemon style, but since he hasn’t practiced it enough, you can tell it’s a little off model because, well, he drew it himself and doesn’t practice the pokemon style a lot. Same with the crash one. Had it been a trace, with his level of control over his lines (which you can’t refute), it would have been much closer.

And you act like it’s a crime to imitate others’ art style. It’s really not. What is wrong with you? Do you want to slow down animation production by only letting the character designer draw everything? Or do you want animation where the art has 0 semblance of consistency because all the artists draw in vastly different styles? lol. What do you have against artists that try to stay on model?

LOL THIS IS ONE IS SO STUPID WHERE DO I EVEN START?

Oh, I KNOW. Why don’t I do that same pose with my own hands?

IT’S A MIDDLE FINGER, YOU IDIOT.

Just because YOU don’t know basic anatomy and can’t tell a middle finger from a pinky, doesn’t mean everyone else is as incompetent as you. He wasn’t doing the rock-on hand pose (sry idk if that pose actually has a name lol), and he’s drawn the rock-on hand pose properly before.

Closing statement

I believe I covered a lot of things and provided a lot of evidence here that Falco and his other friends did not cover in his defense against the false accusations.

I even added more counter arguments in this repost because apparently my original post wasn’t enough to convince people.

Perhaps the person calling him out meant well (no, I doubt it because they made a new side blog just to diss him because they knew if they did it on their actual blog, they’d be called out for being a jerk), but they did not do enough digging to find out if their claims were true or not (and they probably know well enough that they MADE UP THEIR EVIDENCE).

If you’re going to make a call out post, please make triple sure sure of everything before you accuse people. Talk to them first. Talk to those who know them too.

Many jobs require you to be able to draw characters exactly in the style given. Animators for example! There are multiple animators working on one series, and they all need the skill to draw consistently! Some games also have teams that need to be able to draw in the same style so they don’t have to leave everything up to one person. Comic artists often have assistants that help them draw background characters, but those background characters can’t be too different from the main style either.

As for the people who believed the call out post before, it’s perfectly understandable. I am also guilty of falling for similar posts in the past. Due to that, I decided it was best to double check before retweeting (i say retweet because i use twitter far more than tumblr these days. heck i almost never post anything on this blog) things, and if i wasn’t sure, I would just leave it be.

I hope my post was able to convince you on Falco’s innocence and all his hard work. And if you already believed him but checked out this post anyways… Thanks! ObligatoryPleaseWatchAotuWorld.

And again:

Art does NOT exist in a vacuum. All artists are influenced by each other and MANY artists, especially professionals, use a lot of references, whether it be from photographers, their own pictures, others’ artwork, life, or whatever. We all use many different resources. If you’re going to say that’s wrong, you just dismissed millions of artists in the world.

[idombledore]

The Corona Monologues

In 1918, the world was embroiled in the Great War (1914-1918), a conflict that would eventually claim twenty million lives. Despite the terrible conditions of trench warfare, soldiers always had letters from loved ones back home to look forward to, a time when they could shut out the shelling, the gas attacks, the mud, the never-ending dampness and dream of a sunny day walking to church with wives and children. Then suddenly, letters from home started speaking of darker content, a darkness that rivalled the soldier’s own. Soldiers were being told that people were dying. People were getting sick with something and dying. The protagonists of the war had to maintain morale on the front line so letters from home were stopped. Newspaper articles referring to a deadly illness were banned. Only in neutral Spain, was the press able to broadcast the horrors. The perception was that the disease was only affecting people in Spain and so it was called Spanish Flu, but the truth was it was everywhere. The Spanish Flu was an H1N1 virus, a strain more recently known as Swine Flu in 2009. The Spanish Flu took an estimated fifty million lives worldwide between 1918 and 1920, more than double the casualties of the full four years of war in only half the time. Nowadays, 2020, people must have the words ‘Corona,’ ‘Covid-19’ and ‘Pandemic’ branded into their life like they’ve been looking at the sun too long. The Covid-19 virus, part of the SARS family of viruses, originated from Wuhan in China. We might imagine a medieval slaughter pit that surely had to give birth to something nasty eventually. We imagine how a place could possibly make a virus twist and morph and finally metastasize into such a killer. What ungodly conditions would have to prevail? Wuhan wasn’t a boggy medieval slaughter pit. It was a modern city of eleven million people. But Wuhan had within its confines, the equivalent of that medieval slaughter pit and with it, the gravest danger, the extent of which we do not yet know. The virus most closely resembled viruses found in bats and pangolins, scaly anteaters, so they tracked it down to a market selling bats and pangolins, alive or dead. Early conspiracy theory pointed the finger at a virology lab some twenty miles away but scientists said Covid-19 bonded to its target receptor in humans too perfectly to be anything but a natural evolution. This diary comes from the small Spanish town of Javea in south-east Spain. It attempts to catalogue the thoughts and fortunes of a new generation locked in a new battle with an old enemy. Soon enough, cases started appearing in Europe and it became the conversation du jour from mid-January. Italy was the hardest hit initially. The usual jokes and photos cropped up on social media. It was almost exciting, something newsworthy. Maybe this would be the ultimate virus, the final molecular war, the one that put an end to us. I didn’t know it at the time but, one evening I witnessed a sign of things to come. I was returning home from a friends house and was stopped by three police cars patrolling the port area. They stretched their hands out to ensure I didn’t come any closer and then one of them gestured for me to turn round and get my hands up against the wall. I was waiting for a pat-down but it never came. Words were exchanged between them and he asked me for ID. I went to pass it to him but again an annoyed hand came out as he squinted to see it in torchlight and take a few notes. He said I could go but if they caught me out after dark again, there would be trouble. I didn’t bother telling him I wasn’t aware of any curfew and went on my way, more confused than I was expecting to be. When casualties appeared in Spain and eventually spread closer to home, that mild excitement waned and the exodus began. It was another sign that something had changed on a deeper human level, a descent to survival instinct. People were taking this seriously enough to run for the hills, fly home, move house, anywhere away from other people. They were scared. There were no schools open, no factories or shops. Buy half a shelf in the supermarket and hole up. The next day, the lockdown was implemented. Bars and restaurants shut, everything but pharmacies, tobacco shops and supermarkets shut. Two weeks. We switched to good old-fashioned home entertaining. It’s safe. It’s people we know. It feels like we’re fifteen again, sneaking out of the house to go drinking with our friends. Forget the dirty handshake, it’s now an elbow tap salute, possibly more out of sarcasm than safety. Any sort of touch is considered a mark of absolute trust and a hug just isn’t necessary. We’re given our own personalised glasses, plates, cutlery. We’re given our spot and boundaries are established. There’s even been no-touch dancing. We’ve become accustomed to everything being closed. We’ve also become accustomed to the patrols of the Guardia Civil and Policia Local. We’re being watched and if they catch us without a shopping bag and a shopping list or otherwise verify the authenticity of our escape from home, they will have a certain approach to the conversation and there may well be a fine. A couple of days later, I heard something you normally hear at fiesta time, a sudden uproar of applause and cheers down in the port. And then the church bells started to ring. I looked up to catch any fireworks. Fiesta and lockdown just didn’t correlate. It can’t be. A quick search confirmed there were no festivals until Easter. A Spanish lad from Javea finally posted that’s what they do. In a time when we are at risk and we have to be safe, the police are still out there, supermarket workers, gas station workers, pharmacies, tobacconists. They’re all still out there. That’s who the applause is for. Every night at 8pm. The next evening when the bells rang, I knew what it was all about but it was now the third sign of living in a slightly different world. I remembered castaway comments the previous week, ‘maybe this will be the one.’ Was this the one? The thing we’ve always said we should plan for but never did, the chaos and the Bear Grylls stuff that’ll get us through it. Are we going to have to run for the hills, are we going to have to arm ourselves? A week or so after the lockdown came the grim sequel. The lockdown was to be extended by a further month. This was now more than an inconvenience. A friend said they always bring in the initial idea with a short penalty clause, knowing full well they’ll tell us the full story after we’ve got used to it. Social media was full of worthy wellwishers urging us in pretty pointy lingo to stay at home. I feel ostracised for even thinking of getting the onions I forgot last time. I’d be someone obviously happy to give someone else a deadly disease. We’re all getting an awful lot of work done. We cook things we’ve never tried before, we see parts of the house and garden we hadn’t considered worthy until now. Then, I noticed the sun hadn’t shown itself and the rain hadn’t stopped since the day the lockdown started. A full week of un-Spanish weather. On balance, I took it as a good thing. There was less temptation to consider something fun. My phone became a journalistic tool. I wondered if I should try and film something. Not the nooks and crannies of the house. Out and about. But who would I interview anyway apart from the police? I can shoot empty streets, bars and beaches and I WILL get caught, again. I looked at the curves every day and watched them grow, watched the death toll grow. The curve was still accelerating and that was an awful lot of people dead. After two weeks, I wondered how long it would take before it was all over and we could start touching each other again. I missed hugs more than I thought. Although social media was still up and running and I didn’t feel lonely, I just felt a little more alone than I was. I wanted to stand with my people against this nasty little virus but I couldn’t. I wanted to go to designated places just to interact with other people, but when I got there, I couldn’t. They didn’t want to and neither did I. Maybe it’s something about just seeing other humans that makes us feel better. Other people were doing things I probably should be doing myself, wearing masks and gloves but there was also something people tend to notice more easily in Spain. Usually, it’s the way of it to pass a stranger in the street, make eye contact and say ‘hello’. But that would serve only as a temptation to converse and interact. The way of it now is distance. In the supermarkets, the security guards make us take plastic gloves when we go in. About half the people I see wear masks but the place that sold masks sold out then shut. A lot of people get the mask idea wrong. The masks are not to prevent inhaling the virus. Corona isn’t airborne. The mask is to prevent us from touching our faces, transferring what’s on our hands to our mouth and nose, Corona’s cosiest place. It’s only when we think about it do we realise quite how many times we touch our face in the course of the average day. It’s an awful lot, mostly for unknown autonomic reasons but it did suddenly feel like I was spending most of the day with my finger up my nose. So, in the absence of officially approved masks, I made do with a scarf. I look like Billy the Kid in blue plastic gloves. No hugs. We start thinking about the people near us. Could they have it? How close is it? A week ago, it reached Denia, just the other side of the mountain. That’s close enough. It’s here. It has to be here. Who's got it? That’s when the loneliness sinks in a bit deeper and the final sign. We can’t assume anyone is clean. If they wait maybe four days to two weeks and they’re OK, they didn’t pick it up two weeks ago, but they could have picked it up yesterday. This had to be true isolation. Still, the sun hadn’t reappeared and even the church bells at 8pm became more ‘For Whom the Bell Tolls’ than the symbol of resistance and solidarity the Spanish are famous for. Families with kids were settling into something more like a TV show. No outside influences to help make it work, just them. A week ago, a young German couple and two very young kids took the house just down from me. I look over their back garden. They came here for some Easter sun but they landed in lockdown. They couldn’t go anywhere and they couldn’t go home. Every day, they came outside with balls and bikes and frisbees and they’d laugh and play until the time came for small people to get sleepy. The parents were laughing and joking and loving each other too, doing what families who live here are doing. Making it work. It could be an enlightening time but probably also a time that stretches the elastic a little. In Spain, as with anywhere else, elderly people form a major part of the death statistics. Most would say that makes sense but conspiracy theories keep cropping up, not just who released the virus but was it targeting the elderly? The Spanish government announced last week that, at a certain number of cases, medical facilities would have a cut off age, an age at or beyond which, people will not be treated. That age is 67. The conspiracy is how cunningly in line with retirement age that is. But for most people, conspiracy tends not to wake up with us in the morning. I speak to a computer screen instead of humans and walk around the house talking to myself far more than I did. I need to see the curve decelerate. And I need to see the sun again. It’s April 1st 2020. My birthday. The oddest birthday party ever. Skype will be live with six other households later and we will all be listening to the “Corona on the Rocks” jam on local radio. So, until next time…. Stay clean, stay safe, stay with us.

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