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hopelesshawks · 3 years

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If you're still doing it, and if you feel inspired with the character : Bakugou Katsuki and the song "From Now On" from The Greatest Showman.

You can write with another character if this one doesn't inspire you!

Send me a song and a character (still open)

Ohhhh I love this!! Pro hero!Bakugo who let all the fame of being number 2 get in the way of his relationship me thinks. Thanks for sending this in 🥰

Bakugo used to love the fame and attention that came with being a top hero.

He used to love the way people would scream his name with stars in their eyes when they saw him; the way the idiots in suits over at the HPSC would congratulate him on his incident resolution rate; the way the press would sing his praises; the way his name sounded after the words Number Two Hero even though he’d much rather hear it after number one. He loved it all.

But you?

You fucking hated it.

You always said it was the worst part of hero work. The fans, the paparazzi, all of it grated on you. You hated that since Bakugo had cracked the top 10 you two couldn’t go on date night without getting blinded by cameras. You hated going to HPSC galas in an expensive outfit you’d never wear a second time, sipping overpriced champagne even though you’d be just as happy with something a tenth of the price. You hated that you couldn’t go on social media without seeing speculation about your relationship and your sex life literally everywhere or even worse hundreds of people all stating exactly why you weren’t good enough to be with the Bakugo Katsuki. But what you hated the most was the way Bakugo loved it; the way he preened under the praise, his chest puffing up with pride, ego absolutely blooming under all the superficial attention; the way he’d kiss you in front of paparazzi just so the headlines would be filled with mention of you being his. The rest you could deal with but it made your skin crawl how much he’d change when the public’s watchful eye was on him. At home he was the man you fell in love with, but the minute you left he regressed to the obnoxious asshole you’d first met during your first year at UA.

It was a recipe for disaster and in retrospect Katsuki really should’ve seen the break up coming. He can barely remember what had set off the argument in the first place, probably another gaudy headline or crude Twitter trend about the two of you. You’d been upset about it, raving about invasions of privacy and feeling violated and he’d been dismissive, the way he always was when it came to these things.

“It comes with the territory, just fuckin’ get used ta it already,” he had scoffed.

“The issue is you encourage it Katsuki! You care more about the fame and how good it makes you feel than you do how that added scrutiny makes me feel!” you fired back.

“Why can’t you just fucking deal with it??”

“I shouldn’t have to!”

“Well maybe if you did your fuckin ranking would be better!”

It was a low blow. Bakugo knew it then and he still knows it now. You try so hard to be the best hero you can be, but at the end of the day popularity plays a nontrivial role in the ranking system and being the “““just average””” significant other to one of Japan’s biggest rising stars isn’t a recipe for popularity.

“Get out….”

Your voice had been dangerously low. He’ll never forget the way it managed to sound both terrifyingly lethal and devastatingly heartbroken.

“Shit, wait (y/n) I didn’t mean that I-”

“I said get out!” you had yelled, voice quaking with pent up emotion as you started shoving him out the door. If he really didn’t want to move he could’ve easily resisted but at the time he’d been too shocked to even try, reeling backwards and letting you force him back into the hallway of your apartment building.

“Talk to me when Bakugo Katsuki comes back, I’m fucking sick of Pro Hero Dynamight,” you had said before promptly slamming the door in his face.

In the month that followed Katsuki threw everything into his work, taking longer shifts and pushing himself harder so that by the time he got home he was too beat up to feel the aching pain in his heart and too exhausted to notice his apartment didn’t feel like home the way yours did. He ignored the pitying looks from his friends, brushed off their concerned words and sympathetic gazes with grumbled “I’m fine”s and eye rolls. He filled the hole you left in him with the praise and admiration of the adoring public.

And then came the day you’d been warning him about since he first became a household name.

“The Cost of Victory: Pro Hero Dynamight destroys city during villain chase”

The story matched the headline, tallying up all of the damage he’d caused to buildings and other public property while trying to apprehend someone’s half ass attempt at recreating nomu. As shoddy as the thing was it could take a fucking hit and there was no denying the collateral damage was decently expansive. What the article failed to mention, however, was the amount of damage done before Bakugo had arrived on scene. It made sure to comment on the number of casualties in the incident but conveniently left out how much larger that number would be had Katsuki spent more time worrying about some stupid hunks of metal over catching the damn monstrosity and saving civilian lives. He guesses “Pro Hero Dynamight does his best despite being out gunned and having zero back up at his disposal” isn’t as catchy or clickworthy of a headline.

The very same websites showering him in praise just a day or two before now viciously rip into him. He can’t take a step outside his apartment without seeing article after article shredding him to pieces or getting a camera shoved into his face asking for comment on the criticism. His Twitter feed is full of former fans deriding him for falling short of perfection, calling him a narcissist, a showboat, a fucking menace to society as if he’s the sixteen year old kid chained up at the sports festival all over again. So he stops leaving his apartment entirely.

Kirishima is the one who finally gets him out again. The bar they go to is small, further away from the downtown area than most people are willing to stray. Between that and the fact it’s still relatively early in the evening, they have the place to themselves. The only other soul is the owner/bartender who seems entirely uninterested in the fact that Red Riot and Dynamight are patronizing his establishment. It’s perfect, giving Bakugo the space he needs to rant to his best friend. And rant he does. He lets it all pour out while he paces: the frustration, the rage, the disappointment, the guilt, until there’s nothing left in him except an aching sadness that has nothing to do with the fake fans and shitty headlines. “Y’know what the worst fuckin’ part is?” he rages, face red from bellowing for the past lord knows how long and tears already welling in his eyes at what he’s about to admit. Kirishima barely has time to ask what the worst part is before Katsuki is choking out around a frustrated sob “I wouldn’t even give a shit if I still had (y/n).”

Kirishima is out of his seat and pulling his friend into a hug in an instant. He lets Bakugo shake apart, doesn’t mind the tears soaking into his shirt or how tightly the other man is gripping onto him. He stands solid and firm, the same way he always has and always will for Katsuki until the sobs turn to hiccups. “They’re worried about you, you know,” Eijirou finally tells him. “Yea? How the fuck you figure that Shitty Hair?” Bakugo grumbles miserably into his shoulder. “They’ve called me every day since the article came out to check on you,” the red head admits and it’s enough to make Katsuki stiffen in his hold, scared to hope. “Really?” he asks, voice gruff but quiet. “Really. So are you gonna go to them or what?”

You’ve been staring at your phone for at least an hour, debating whether to call Bakugo or not, when a knock on your door snaps you out of your pained contemplation. You pull the long sleeves of the hoodie Bakugo gave you for your birthday down over your hands as you move to answer the door. Imagine your surprise when the very man who’d been plaguing your thoughts is the one standing outside your door. He looks rough. His hands are shoved into his pockets, back hunched over, face red and puffy, and even though he hasn’t looked you in the eye yet you can tell his are red rimmed. He’s been crying, you realize, and it breaks your heart a little. “Ya just gonna stand there or can I come in?” he asks and it snaps you out of your thoughts again. “Right yea sorry come in I guess,” you say, stepping out of the way to let him in.

He’s almost twitchy, like he wants to make himself comfortable the way he always used to but can’t. You wince a little when you realize it’s the correct assumption to make. Still he doesn’t say anything, he just stands there looking somehow simultaneously out of place and like he never left. “What are you doing here?” you finally sigh. “You said talk to you when Bakugo Katsuki came back and he—or I—or whatever did,” he mutters and a pang of something that feels suspiciously like guilt hits you at the words. “Oh… Is—is that all you wanted to say or?” He glares at a distant point over your left shoulder, presumably collecting his thoughts, before he finally meets your gaze. “Look I-” he breaks eye contact again, growling a little in frustration at himself as he continues to struggle to find words. You don’t say anything though, knowing he needs to work through it himself. “Things have been pretty shit for me lately,” he finally admits. You can’t help but scoff at the comment although one look at him and his pained expression has you regretting it. You clear your throat awkwardly. “Sorry, yea, keep going.”

He huffs before continuing and even though he still won’t meet your eyes you can tell how difficult this all is for him.

“Look things have been pretty fuckin’ shitty lately with everyone and their goddamn cousin in Japan hatin’ me but it’s made me realize some shit. I’ve been so fuckin’ focused on chasin’ the fame and the fans or whatever that I kinda forgot about the important stuff…”

He only trails off for a moment, steeling himself for whatever he’s about to say next. It’s almost funny how much it reminds you of him right before a big fight.

“But from now on,” he starts, finally meeting your gaze, puffing out his chest as if daring you to challenge whatever’s going to come out of his mouth next. “From now on I’m not gonna let all that stupid shit blind me alright? I promise, from now on I’m only focusin’ on the real people in my life, not the goddamn extras. Ok?”

His eyes are blazing as he finishes and it literally takes your breath away.

“Ok.”

“Ok, then….” he trails off, his eyes slide away again as his confidence wanes, “then can I come back home again?”

Your heart shatters and forms anew at the words as you find your feet moving before you’ve even told them to. You throw yourself into his arms, pulling him close, the jagged edges you both left in each other the night you broke up re-aligning and mending themselves. “Of course you can Katsuki, I’ve missed you,” you sigh, each word wrapped in relief and joy. “Fuckin’ missed you too dumbass,” he huffs back, although you don’t miss how wet it sounds. When you pull back it’s only a fraction and only so you can reel him in for a gentle kiss, pouring every missed I love you into it so there’s no room for doubting if you’ve truly forgiven him.

It’s a promise. A promise to do better from now on. And Katsuki means every single second of it.

General Taglist: @ahtsuwu @oikawaandkuroostan @oliviasslut @black-rose-29

#hhrequests #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #bnhacity

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astraljedi · 4 years

Text

Coffee Crush (Evan Buckley)

A/N: first of all, I’m buck trash. I’ve been watching 911 with my roommate since season two aired, and I’ve been trying to fight it. But here I am, posting an Evan Buckley imagine. Secondly, I wrote this in a day? Who am I? Thirdly, we need more buck imagines.

Summary: Evan might be obsessed with a coffee shop, or a certain employee.

Warnings: none? Probably some bad writing.

Pairing: reader, she/her

____

Coffee never failed to bring people together, whether it was decaf or not. People enjoyed a hot cup of coffee or an iced cold-brewed coffee with their loved ones at any time of the day.

That's why Y/N had decided to open up Mamá Linda’s Coffee shop. Of course, Los Angeles had hundreds of know coffee chains around de City. But it didn’t stop her from owning her place, she fought hard for it and gave it her all until she finally made it.

It always packed all day, and she was on her feet since early in the morning until late at night. There wasn't a day where she wasn’t helping her staff on the bar and behind the kitchen. She was an all-hands in kind of woman.

Week 1

The job was exhausting, but a day never passed by that wasn't full of some entertainment—especially this week in particular.

“Y/N, we have a 10 in uniform,” Selena whispered to her while calling the shots for the current drink she had. They all spoke in codes, and a ten means someone attractive was in the shop. “Those piercing blue eyes could make me forget that I’m a married woman.”

Selena always made her day with her commentary during shifts and even of them during text or calls. She was a woman full of surprises.

“He’s lost looking at the menu.” Y/N chuckled, watching him wrinkle his nose in confusion. He was wearing a black firefighter uniform like he just came off his shift or was heading there. “He looks cute.”

She found it adorable, and without notice, she had a small smile splattered on her face. The cute firefighter turned his attention back to the line and caught Y/N’s eyes staring back at him. He must have felt someone was staring at him.

Blushing uncontrollably, he smirked at her playfully. He loved flirting, and he walked around, knowing he could get any girl.

Not knowing what to do with herself, she lowered her head embarrassed and ended up spilling the steaming hot milk from her pitcher on the counter and on to her apron. Y/N’s hands were now shaking as her team watched her with wide eyes, surprised with her clumsiness. She wasn’t like this at all.

The metal pitcher fell to the floor, hushing the packed shop with the remaining milk spilling on the ground as clients looked around for the source of the accident. It made it worse for her when all her usual clients were staring at her, they were worried, but she thought they were judging her.

“Y/N, get yourself cleaned up. We can handle it here.” Selena rubbed her Y/N’s shoulders while she nodded her head in agreement quietly. Darian was already cleaning up the counter while she walked away quietly towards the back. After all that, Y/N didn’t even dare to look back at the firefighter. She felt embarrassed at how nervous and shaky she got over just one smirk.

And if it couldn’t go worse, he became a regular after that.

Week 2

The second week was torture; now she knew his name after Selena had told her a few days ago when she finally caught his name for his order. Now, Harry, one of her other employees, had found him on social media during a late stalking session. He had a crush too.

“Evan hasn’t come in today, and maybe he couldn’t come by before work or after his gym session.” Harry frowned, leaning against the marble countertop after he finished with his last customer on the line. It was around 10 am, which meant a little breathing room for the team to relax from the morning rush hour.

“Did you get his social security number while you were stalking the poor guy?” Y/N chuckled, working on the pastry case. She had made the perfect Tres Leches in the morning that she thought it deserved a spot on the pastry case for others to see the newest treat on the menu.

“I only found about his family, his ex-girlfriend, and where he works. It wasn’t a full-on stalk since I know you called dibs first.” Y/N turned around, glaring at him after she closed the pantry door.

“I did not call dibs on him.”

“Well, you did spill your pitcher full of steaming milk after the poor guy tried to flirt with you. Which you never spill your pitcher, you can do this in your sleep cupcake.” Harry added as Selena had joined them in the bar.

“I’m with Harry on this, and you did say he looked cute that day,” Selena added, drying the white plated she brought from the back.

“I did not spill because of him. I just had too much caffeine that day that I was bouncing all over the place.” Y/N tried to get her self out of it; she didn’t even want to be in the topic from the first place. “Just because I find a guy attractive doesn’t mean I want to date him.”

“You’re saying that I’m not datable?” And if her nightmare couldn't have become worst. Evan was standing behind the pastry case, gym bag over his shoulders, and a tank that left his muscular biceps the main lead of the show.

It was like deja vu. Y/N’s blushing cheeks were hard to cover as he smiled back at her. He knew she was avoiding him since the milk incident, and he finally caught her. And even better, she was talking about him with her friends.

“I see you have become a regular now.” Was that the first thing she said to him? Yeah, rude.

“What can I say? I love coffee and scenery.” Evan flirted again, knowing he made her nervous.

“Well, I think Harry knows your usual so that he will make it for you.” And as expected, Harry was already finishing his order at the end of the bar. “As a thank you for your support, it's on the house.”

Harry smiled widely at Evan as he handed the coffee cup to Evan over the counter. “Won’t your boss get mad for giving away free coffee?” Evan added before taking a sip of his drink.

“The good thing is that I’m the owner.” Y/N smirked back at him before turning around and walking towards the backroom. She looked over her shoulder, thinking she pulled off the last move, but he didn’t fail to wink back at her before Evan left the shop.

Week 3

After her last conversation with Evan, she did see him a couple of times after. And she finally learned his usual order. It was a black coffee with a splash of unsweetened almond milk topped with some cinnamon.

She did get used to seeing his face around. He did seem to enjoy the coffee. “Hey, sweet face, you’re early today.” Y/N leaned against the counter, already having his order ready for him in front of her.

“Now, you’re giving me nicknames?” He did enjoy the coffee, but he loved it the most when she greeted him with her sweet smile. He had gotten her to open up to him these couple of days, and he was happy about it. She brightened up his day.

“You just always have a sweet smile, like a toddler. Always so full of life, energy, and happiness.” And she wasn’t shy anymore on holding back the compliments.

“Then, I will call you freckles.” Evan reached towards Harry to finish paying and looked at her one last time. “You should show your freckles more. They go perfectly with your beautiful smile.” He winked at her and left the store in a hurry for work.

“If you don’t date him, I will.” Selena pushed a blushing Y/N playfully while she still stared at the door even though he was nowhere in sight anymore.

Week 4

“Good Morning Harry, did you watch the game yesterday?” Evan chatted with Harry, his eyes scanning the shop for a particular face.

“I did, and after that game, I’m embarrassed to even be from here. What a disaster it was.” Harry shrugged his shoulders, giving Evan his change. “She’s not here, she came down with the horrible flu and couldn’t risk getting all of us sick.”

“Oh, I was looking forward to seeing that smile today.” Evan frowned, placing a tip in the jar on the counter. “It was nice seeing you. Take care.”

“He looked sad when he walked in today,” Selena said, while Harry agreed.

Week 5

After spending some time in bed and being miserable at home with the flu, Y/N was finally on her feet and feeling better. The first day back and she was excited to head back to her second home, and especially to see that special someone.

But that morning, he didn’t show up at all. It was like the universe didn’t want her to see him today.

“He did come yesterday, right?” Y/N asked Selena, tapping her fingers on the counter, worrying about him. She had a feeling something was wrong, especially after Selena has told her that morning that he had been looking rough the couple of times he had come in.

“He did, he still had the sad puppy eyes, but he did order your tres leches again,” Selena confirmed, handing Y/N a warm cup of tea. Y/N felt terrible, he did leave his number for her with Harry, but she just didn’t have the courage to text first.

Maybe she was crazy, but she missed his smile and his contagious laughter while she was gone. She was looking forward to seeing him again, but she might have sent the wrong signal by not texting or even calling him after he left his number.

“I’m going for a drive, think you can stay in charge until I get back?” Y/N placed the cup on the counter and folded up one of the to-go boxes.

“If you’re going to do what I think you're going to do, then I can.” Selena chuckled, helping Y/N place the whole Tres Leches in the box.

She had driven past the station a few times before she even knew him, so thankfully, she knew the way and didn’t need to waste more time by searching it on her GPS. It was a 10-minute ride, and with her luck, traffic was lighter than usual.

“Should I call him and tell him that I’m here?” She thought, looking at the intimidating station. With her shaking hands, she built up the courage and stepped out of her car with her other hand holding on to the box.

“I bet I look pathetic.” And again, the little voice in her head returned. Her eyes wandered the area, and she only spotted a pair of legs working behind the ambulance. Hesitant, she made her way towards the figure as she held tightly on to the box in her hands. “Hi, excuse me.” She felt so small and intimidated her voice cracked a bit at the end.

“How can I help you, ma'am.” She felt so bad about interrupting him while he was just trying to do his job.

“Sorry to bother you, is Evan here? I don’t know if this is the right station-“

“Oh yeah, he’s here.” He smiled a little too friendly and immediately started shouting Evan’s name until an annoyed Evan came marching from what looked like a locker room.

“Han, why in the world are you screaming?” Buck groaned, but it took him a second to realized what was happening.

“This kind woman was asking for you.” Han smiled at Y/N kindly. Buck’s eyes widened, and his cheeks we're madly blushing when he spotted her standing right behind Han. And of course, Y/N had been blushing since he had walked out of the lockers.

“This is for all of you; I made it this morning.” Y/N held out the box, and Han didn’t hesitate to grab it from her hands.

“She brings us treats. She’s a keeper, Buck.” Han said a little too loud as he climbs up the stairs towards the small kitchen.

“I’m sorry if I’m overstepping. I got worried when you didn’t come in, and I just had a bad feeling. I needed to make sure you were alright.” Y/N rambled, her hands moving around like crazy as she tried to explain her actions. “I don’t know if you’re just nice, but I’m pretty sure we were flirting all of this time, and I just needed to see you.” With her rambling all over the place, she didn’t even notice how Buck was walking towards her slowly.

“I wanted to see you too.” Evan chuckled, grabbing her by the waist, finally pulling her closer to his body for the first time. The heat radiating between the two met as Buck lowered down to her height to catch her lips with his.

In complete shock, Y/N’s widened at first but slowly shut them as she kissed him back. It was slow and sweet, how he imagined it to be. One of Y/N’s hands found its way towards his bicep, resting on the muscle even after he had pulled away to look at her glistening eyes. “Just as good as your coffee,” Evan mumbled, pecking her lips a few times.

They were in their little bubble until wolf whistles and cheers coming from the balcony above them. “You can come to visit us at any time if you bring more goodies as good as this dessert,” Han said with a mouth full of food. A woman standing right next to him slapped him in the shoulder, rolling his eyes at him. “Excuse my partner. He gets a little too happy over food.”

“I’ll bring more next time.” Y/N giggled as Buck held her between his arms.

#evan buckley #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley imagines #911 fic #911 imagines #911 imagine

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houseof-harry · 4 years

Text

What Happened in Jersey Pt. 3 | G.D.

A/N - YALL! Buckle up, I’ve been working on this part for legit a week and I’m proud of how it came out. It’s a little long, but so much happens so get excited! Let me know what you think! Read Part 2 here!!!

Word Count - 7.6K

Warnings - mentions of smut

***

Recap:

“Don’t freak yourself out, though. He’s a good guy,” Jessie sighs. You rub your hands over your stomach, getting lost in your thoughts. That’s when you remember something very important that you don’t know about Grayson.

“What’s his number?”

“Grayson’s?” Jessie laughs out.

“No, my other baby daddy,” you joke.

“I’ll give it to you and then we’ll head to breakfast?” You sit up and nod.

“Thank god that’s over. Things can only get better from here, right?”

***

The next couple of weeks were pretty nice and uneventful. You got Grayson’s number and, as he said, you texted every day. You’d actually Facetime a lot, too. He says it’s because he wants to see the baby bump once it starts to come in.

You would tell him about your day, related to the pregnancy and not, and he would tell you about his adventures with Ethan and all the things he found doing his research on the internet. He keeps you updated on the fruit or vegetable that’s continuing to grow inside you as the time passes. He tried to find any solution he can to your morning sickness that has persisted. He even sent you a couple care packages with the things you said you craved, but it usually would come too late for you to enjoy. The look of the foods would make you nauseous, but your roommates loved the free treats.

The great part of all of this is that you have a relationship forming with your baby daddy, who will inevitably be in your life forever.

The bad part of all of this is that you are definitely falling for him.

You had a crush on him, and to be quite frank who wouldn’t. This hot guy has not only been talking to you every day, checking in with you and making sure you’re okay, but you’re literally pregnant with his baby. From having hot ass sex in the bathroom at New Year’s.

So it was safe to say you were into him. Which terrified you. Because there was no way he was into you. You were constantly ready for him to just never respond again, or for him to totally drop you and your baby for someone else, someone else with way less baggage. So you would do your best to keep it friendly and push him away whenever you felt like things were getting past friendly. You know, the healthy way to deal with your emotions.

Little to your knowledge, Grayson definitely had it worse than you. A part of him believed this was the universe giving him a huge ass sign that this was his future. You and your baby together were the beginning of your future as a family. But, he also recognizes that he is a hopeless romantic and has done this many times before. However, never with a baby involved and he was terrified of scaring you away. So he would try his best to keep everything friendly. Of course, he always miserably failed.

Your roommates and friends were definitely catching on to what was happening. They knew you were talking to the guy you met over winter break. However, you still managed to keep the news of the pregnancy to yourself. Given, you used bribery as your main mode of keeping their excited minds at bay, but if it works then it works. If they brought up your sickness or any of your other odd behavior, you’d remind them of the free food from the care packages you would give them and if they wanted it to continue, they should be minding their business. A bit harsh, but they wouldn’t let up otherwise.

You managed to get to spring break without anyone asking the big question, and you were grateful for it. You weren’t sure how you’d lie to them.

Your best friend’s house would be a different story. Anna will notice every little change in you that’s happened since you last saw her in December, and you definitely would not be able to come up with a lie to explain it all away. So you decide that as soon as she asks, you’d spill.

That actually went pretty smoothly. She was supportive and excited for you. However, she didn’t trust Grayson one bit and had even found his Instagram (despite you withholding his last name) and showed you his 9 million followers. This made you spiral a bit. Were you ruining his career? Did he have a life in LA he could never leave for your baby? Is he going to bring all these influencers around your baby?

Before you can control your actions, you’re facetiming Grayson.

His bright smile pops up on your screen. “Hey sweet girl, what’s up?” Every time he calls you that it makes you feel warm inside. It terrifies you because you don’t want to get to attached to him when you’re just friends. Who are having a baby together. Just friends who are having a baby together.

When he notices your furrowed brow and your lack of a smile, his happiness vanishes and is replaced with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Anna showed me your Instagram,” you mumble. You’re almost embarrassed. You sound like a child. You instantly regret calling him.

“Anna did what?” He brings the phone closer to him so he can hear better.

“Anna found your Instagram and showed it to me.” “Oh.” You nod. “What…what did you think? Pretty douchy?” This makes you giggle as you shake your head. He lets out a breath once he sees your small smile.

“No. Just a lot of followers and stuff. I didn’t know you guys were that well known or anything.”

He coughs awkwardly and nods. “Uh, yeah. Is that okay?”

You sigh and frown. Your intention was never to make him feel bad about it.

“Of course. It’s your job, and your passion. I love watching you edit and stuff. You never have to be scared of what I think, I’ll always support you. Just intimidates me a bit, knowing that eventually 9 million people are going to be involved in my life.”

“We will do everything we can to keep you and our strawberry safe and off social media for as long as you want. Ethan already knows that’s the plan too and we’ve been filming some random videos for if we are ever out of commission for a little while for you guys.”

Thinks makes you smile while your features soften. You bite your lip, deciding on whether or not you should share all of your concerns.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Grayson has gotten really good at reading you, even over the phone. You’d like to think it’s the emotions of the pregnancy that give you away, but he’ll catch you even when you think you’re hiding it well.

“I dunno.” You shrug and look away, bringing your knees to your body.

“Liar. Come on, what’s going on? I can’t help make you feel better if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

Your bottom lip quivers as you try your best to stop the tears from clouding your vision. He was always so nice to you, and it made you wanna cry every time.

“I don’t know. It just got me thinking about how your life is in LA and eventually you’ll meet someone out there and then I’ll be here just figuring things out alone. I don’t know, scares me sometimes to think about it.” You refuse to look at him while you speak and you’re met with silence at first.

“Y/N, why are you always waiting for something to go wrong? I’m dedicated to our baby for the rest of forever, and I’m dedicated to you too,” he sighs. He looks like he’s about to say something else but decides against it.

“Sorry. It’s hard for me to trust people easily. Not that you’ve done anything wrong, you’ve actually done everything you could. I just-“ you bite your lip, hesitant to continue. Maybe you shouldn’t be loading your trauma onto him right before bed.

“Hey, I get it. It’s okay. Every time you’re scared of any of that, remember you’re not in it alone and we’re going to do everything together, good and bad. Plus, we get to finally see each other again in a couple of days. And, we get to see baby on the screen.” He smiles, rubbing his chest. His reminder makes you wipe under your eyes as you nod. “Plus, I’ve planned a day in the city for us and Ethan to do some fun shit. It’s gonna be a good week, sweet girl. Can I see your smile?” This instantly makes you smile and he can’t stop cheesing either. “It’s late there. You should be sleeping. Are you good to sleep? Or do you wanna stay on the phone a bit longer?”

You look at the clock and see it’s 1 am. Your eyes widen as you take a big breath in. “Uh, yeah I should go to bed. You don’t have to stay on with me, I’m sure you’ve got stuff to do.” You start to get under your covers, laying back.

“I’m gonna get in bed, too. We can stay on for a bit until you fall asleep. Gotta rest up for our strawberry.”

You breathe deeply through your nose to calm your emotions before agreeing. Maybe having his presence there, even over the phone, will make you feel better.

You get under your covers and settle in, putting your phone on the pillow next to you. It was nice hearing his breathing, and you closed your eyes.

“Thank you,” you mumble, barely audible. You assume he doesn’t even hear it. Hell, he might be asleep already.

“Anything for my sweet girl.” You hear him breathe out.

Your body instantly relaxes, and you’re finally able to fall asleep.

***

Wednesday quickly rolls around and before you know it, you’re on the road to your appointment.

Grayson would be meeting you at the office. You had sent him the address yesterday after his flight got in. You felt bad for having a morning appointment because he’s three hours behind coming from California on top of the fact that he had a farther drive. That was the only appointment you could get for that week, though.

You get a call from him when you’re five minutes away.

“Hey Gray.” You know you sound nervous, but you hope he ignores it.

“Hey. I’m here. Want me to wait in the parking lot or should I go in?” You can hear the roughness of his voice, he must be exhausted.

“Uh, wait in the parking lot. It’s a big building, kinda hard to navigate. I’m only five minutes away.”

“Perfect, I’m in the orange truck. See you soon”

You smile, but remember he can’t see you. “Okay, see you soon.” You hang up and the butterflies instantly begin in your tummy.

The last time you were with Grayson in person he was making you pregnant. You hoped that the last month and a half of talking will make it easy to be in person with him, but you never know. What if it’s awkward and uncomfortable?

You pull into the parking lot and you see his truck instantly. Not many people have orange pickups in your area. Or in general, you’d assume. You pull into the spot next to his passenger side door. He looks up when your car pulls in, and his bright smile is painted across his face. He’s jumping out of his car before you’ve even stopped yours. You grab your purse and get out, closing the door and looking up. He’s antsy on his feet waiting at the back of the cars for you to walk to him.

“Hi sweet girl.” He opens his arms as you walk towards him and you allow your body to collide with his. His arms are around you in an instant and you hold him close to you by his torso. It feels like the world has stopped. He smells clean and fresh, just like he did the last time and it overwhelms your senses.

He rubs your back, not moving away from you and you definitely don’t complain. Hugging him has made you feel calmer than you had felt since you first found out you were pregnant. He was a safe haven while the rest of the world continued to go on.

Eventually, you turn your head to look up at him, keeping him in your arms, your chin resting on his chest with a wide smile plastered on your face. “Hey.”

“How are you feeling? Excited?” He smooths one of his hands over your hair before cupping your cheek.

You nod. “Yeah. It’ll be the first appointment where I can hear the heartbeat. I’m just excited to see our baby.”

He smiles. “Our baby, yeah. God, it’s so good to be here with you. Good to hold you.” He squats down and holds your stomach, his face coming close to your slightly pudgy belly. Your hands rest on his shoulders while your cheeks heat up.

“Hi, baby. It’s nice to finally meet you. Thanks for watching out for your mama, she doesn’t actually like being alone as much as she says she does.” You laugh at this, rubbing your hand over the spot he’s talking to.

“We need to go in if we wanna be on time.” You grab his wrists and pull him back up. He puts a hand on your lower back as you start to walk.

You make it into the building, check in, and are called back. The nurse gets everything she needs from you and leaves you and Grayson alone in the exam room.

He’s pacing around as you sit on the exam table, refusing to look.

“What’s up?” You interrupt his thoughts, a concerned look on your face.

“Huh? Oh. It’s just crazy that I’m meeting our baby for the first time today. Really wild. In a good way though.” He smiles and walks next to you. Before you can respond, there’s a knock and then your doctor is walking in.

“Hey, Y/N.” He smiles at you.

“Hi Dr. Jordan.” You wave.

“And you must be the father. Dr. Jordan, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He holds his hand out to Grayson and he shakes it.

“Grayson,” is all he says.

“So, we’re having a baby?” His smile widens as you and Grayson both nod back.

“Yeah, we are,” you respond.

“Let’s cut to the chase then and check up on ‘em. How does that sound?” He moves around, getting the ultrasound machine ready to go.

“Really good.” You smile at Grayson and he gives you a small one back. You can see he’s really nervous, so once you lay back and lift your shirt to just below your boobs, you’re grabbing his hand in yours. This appears to ground him a bit as he starts breathing normally again.

The doctor moves your pants down a bit so they’re out of the way before grabbing the gel.

“It’s going to be a bit cold.” You nod and gasp when the gel hits your skin, gripping Grayson a bit harder, a shiver running up your spine. Grayson squeezes you back and you look at him. He’s watching the screen as the doctor moves the wand around.

Dr. Jordan is quiet for a little while you watch him. All of a sudden, you hear a thumping from the machine and Dr. Jordan smiles.

“That’s a heartbeat, guys.” Your free hand goes over your heart, your eyes filling with tears. Grayson looks close to crying too. He lifts your hand to kiss the back of it.

“Baby looks nice and healthy, growing at the right rate. Y/N, I’m gonna ask you to get a blood draw and to leave a urine sample, but otherwise you guys are good to go. Any questions?” Dr. Jordan asks while he wipes the gel off your stomach.

You and Grayson both look at each other, tears still threatening to spill and smiles on your face. You shake your head, unwillingly looking away and back at Dr. Jordan. “No, I think we’re good.”

Dr. Jordan smiles at the both of you. “Sounds good. Call us if you ever have any questions, okay? And congratulations, I’m excited for you both.” He stands and leaves.

You let go of Grayson’s hand to sit up and adjust your clothes. He continues to stand there just watching you. When you hop off and look up at him, a tear has rolled down his cheek.

“Are you okay?” Your brows pull together in concern and you grab his biceps lightly, rubbing up and down. This seems to snap him out of his trance a bit.

“Uh, yeah. That was just really incredible. We met our baby today. You’re growing our baby in here,” he puts both hands on your stomach and you giggle.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Thank you.” He looks so sincerely into your eyes, making you blush.

“You ready to go?” You ask, walking away from him to grab your purse. This man is way too powerful to be making you feel a certain type of way. You are two friends having a baby. A friend baby.

He looks a bit hurt for a moment but quickly recovers. “Uh, yeah.” He walks to the door and opens it for you.

You get your tests all done and figured out, and schedule your next appointment for around Easter so that you’d have an excuse to be home from school. Before you know it, you and Grayson are walking out of the doctor’s office. He’s got an arm around your shoulder as you approach your cars.

“Can I bring you and strawberry to lunch? I don’t wanna leave you guys yet,” he says sheepishly, almost like he was nervous to ask you.

“Sure,” you smile up at him and wrap your arm around his waist. He lets out a breath of air he had been holding in and relaxes a bit.

“Cool. I’ll drive us and bring you back here after. Don’t need you woozy behind the wheel after your blood draw.” He rubs your shoulder.

“How is it that we are literally having a baby together and you somehow treat me like I’m the baby?” You laugh.

“One day you’ll let me take care of you,” he chuckles, shaking his head as you part ways to get into his truck.

You get into the passenger seat, buckling in. You were floating on cloud nine, it felt like you and Grayson were actually a little family.

Your thoughts are interrupted when he gets into his seat and adjusts.

“Can I ask you something?” He asks while he buckles.

“Of course.”

“Do you think we could, like, record a little video update or something?” You raise your brows, a bit confused.

“Of what?”

“Just like our thoughts and reactions and stuff. I was thinking I could put a video together at the end of all this for us and our baby when we’re all older and wanna remember. It wouldn’t go on YouTube or anything, not unless you wanted it to. And you probably don’t know a better video editor to do this project,” he bites his lip and raises his eyebrows while trying to gauge your reaction.

Your eyes are suddenly filled with tears again, thinking about how much Grayson really loves this baby. You nod and wipe under your eyes. “Yeah, that’d be cute,” you squeak out, not trying to let on how affected you are buy his words.

“Hey, don’t cry.” He moves his hand to rub your thigh. “Only good things, sweet girl.”

You nod and laugh. “I know. Everything makes me cry now.” You sniffle and breath in, collecting yourself a bit. “I’m ready, let’s do it.”

He reaches into his pocket and brings his phone out, holding it up so that you’re both in the frame. He starts to record and you watch the both of you on the screen. “Hello to whoever is lucky enough to be shown this video.” This makes you giggle, and he smiles. “We just got out of our first appointment together and saw our little baby for the first time.” He instinctively puts his hand on your stomach and your hand goes on top of his. “If you’re our precious baby watching this, we are so excited to meet you. Your mama and I already love you so much.” This makes you squeeze his hand and he looks over to you. “Anything you wanna say?”

“I dunno. What do you think I should say?” You giggle, your cheeks flushing when you meet his eyes.

“Anything you’ll wanna remember in a couple years. I know it’s weird talking to a camera at first, but I’ll cut this all out.” His gaze is kind and patient while you think of what you want to say.

“It’s still so surreal that I’m even pregnant, but hearing our baby’s heartbeat today has made me so grateful I’m able to be in this position. I’ve been so excited to be a mom my whole life, so if you’re my beautiful baby watching, thank you for making my dreams come true.” You smile at the camera and Grayson keeps his eyes on you. You look to him expectantly.

He shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts before turning to look at the camera.

“We’re about to go feed mama and baby now, as long as they’re feeling good of course. If baby is watching this still, thank your mom for all she went through for you when she was growing you, she’s working hard,” he chuckles and you laugh.

“I’m feeling good right now. Want a turkey BLT, actually.”

“What the woman wants, she gets. We’ll see you whenever the next exciting thing happens.” He turns the recording off and puts his phone away, starting the car.

“That’s gonna be really cute,” you sigh, the smile still sitting on your face.

“Yeah, I think it’ll be nice to have when we want to look back on all of this,” he pauses. “Do you know somewhere nearby with good sandwiches?”

“Yeah, there’s a deli like five minutes from here.”

You and Grayson head to the deli and have a nice lunch. Well, you do. Grayson eats a plain roll and pickles because all of the sandwiches had meat on them. You felt really bad, but he assured you it was okay because your little strawberry was craving a BLT.

Once you finish your sandwich, you notice he’s kind of zoned out.

“Grayson?” You look at him, folding your trash up while he just stares at you.

“Come stay with me for the rest of your break,” he blurts out all of a sudden. Your eyes widen.

“What?”

“Come stay for the next few days. We’re not going to get a lot of time together until you’re already halfway through everything.”

You start laughing awkwardly. “Grayson, I can’t just live with your family for a few days, they don’t know me. We don’t really know each other. Wouldn’t that be weird?”

He opens his mouth to rebuttal, but closes it again to think for a moment.

“It’s okay, Grayson. We don’t have to act like any of this is normal, we don’t have to force anything. Everything you’ve done for me has really been for strawberry. Don’t feel like you have any obligation to me.”

Grayson looks a bit hurt by your words, but nods. “Ready to go?” He stands up.

You sigh and nod, getting up with him. You throw your trash out and walk out with him. His hand doesn’t reach for you.

When you’re both settled back into his car, he sighs out your name so that you’ll look at him.

“I know this is all weird and stuff, but we’re going to have to be friends to raise this baby together. And my friends have come to stay with me at this house before. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. Nine months isn’t a long time to start, never mind the fact that we won’t really see each other until you graduate, and I want us to be in the best place possible for our baby.” He starts the car, not looking at you while he finishes speaking.

“I’m sorry I got weird. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything for me.” You cross your arms, trying to shrink into the cushions of your seat.

“You’re right, technically I don’t. But I’m not a piece of shit and I plan on being a good dad. Plus, any friend of Jessie’s is a friend of mine, so even if you hadn’t gotten pregnant, we still would have hung out whenever you were in Jersey. I do what I want, and this is what I want to do.” He stops at a red light and looks at you for a second to see a pout on your lips. “And I hate being the reason you don’t smile. So, if you wanna, come stay with me for the next few days let’s do it, but if that makes you uncomfortable you should stay with Anna. We’re in the same boat, we both don’t have do anything we don’t want to.”

You sit there silently, pondering for a moment. A part of you dwells on the fact that he said you guys are friends, but friends don’t have other friend’s babies and then have them stay at their house with their family. The other part of you wants to throw caution to the wind and just enjoy your time with him before he moves on to start a life with someone for real.

“I’ll come,” you mumble. It almost surprises you more than Grayson that that’s your answer. You’re gonna blame the hormones for making you so impulsive.

“Okay.” His smile grows across his face. “Do you wanna come tomorrow morning so that you can have one more night with Anna?”

“Yeah, they’re gonna want to have dinner with me tonight if I’m not going to see them for a while.”

You guys pull back into the doctor’s office parking lot and he brings you back to your car. He parks and turns to you.

“I’m really excited to spend time with you, Y/N. Besides the fact you’re pregnant with my kid, you’re pretty funny sometimes,” he laughs. You scoff jokingly, biting your lip as you look at him.

“Sometimes? Well I think your jokes are cheesy.”

“Oh, do you now? Is that why you laugh every time?”

“Shut up,” you laugh with him, unbuckling your seatbelt.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? And don’t freak yourself out about meeting my mom, she’s excited to meet you. She’s really excited to meet the amazing woman giving her a grandchild.”

Your eyes widen a bit. “I forgot I was going to meet her. Now I’m more freaked out than before.” You wondered how you’d even introduce yourself to her. Hi I’m Y/N, your son and I hooked up literally once and are now having a baby.

“Hey, get out of your head, sweet girl. I told you, she’s excited. You’ll get along well, anyways. You’re pretty similar people.” He leans over to rub your thigh.

“Okay, I trust you. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You squeeze his hand and open the door to get out. You turn to close the door and it looks like he wants to say something, but doesn’t. You wave and shut the door before getting back in your car.

What the hell did you get yourself into?

***

Grayson walks back into his house, almost body slamming Ethan by accident.

“Dude, watch out. Were you sitting here waiting for me the whole time?” He jokes, an annoyed Ethan rubbing his chest where Grayson’s shoulder hit him.

“No, stupid. I was going to take the quad for a ride. How’d the appointment go?” He watches Grayson put his keys down.

“Good. We heard the heartbeat and stuff, everyone’s healthy.” Grayson smiles to himself just thinking about it.

“It took, like, three hours for the doctor just to tell you that? Ma and I were scared something bad happened.”

“Nah, I took Y/N to lunch after because she really wanted a sandwich and it’s usually hard for her to even eat anything that early.”

“Oh, a date?” Ethan raises his brow as Grayson turns to him. Grayson rolls his eyes.

“No. A ‘you’re pregnant with my baby thanks for growing it’ lunch.”

“Yeah, okay. You’re gonna lie and tell me you’re not already in love with her or some shit?”

“E,” Grayson groans.

“No dude, you have to be careful. She’s going to be a part of your life forever now. Don’t fuck it up by falling too fast and then moving on. She’s not one of your ‘soulmates.’ She’s the mother of your kid. Just be smart.” Ethan opens the door and goes outside.

Grayson stands there for a minute, considering what Ethan said. He’s right, he can’t get caught up in any feelings he has for you because whatever relationship you have, it has to last forever. He knows he has the tendency to fall fast and then move on fast, too. He can’t do that with you.

***

You say your goodbye’s to Anna and her family before you head off to Jersey. You decide to call Grayson instead of texting him to let him know you’ve left. He picks up on the fourth ring.

“Hey, what’s up? Everything okay?”

This makes you laugh. “Yeah, the only time something is wrong is when I call you and something is wrong is at night. I just wanted to let you know I left so I’ll be there in an hour.”

“Oh, good. Okay. Can I make any breakfast for you?”

“Absolutely not. Can’t eat right now.”

“I’m sorry.” He pauses. “I’m gonna go to the store right now, tell me what you need.” You hear him shuffle around on the other end.

“What I need? Nothing,” you giggle.

“Oh my god my baby mama doesn’t even use shampoo I think I’m the one who has morning sickness now,” you hear him fake gag which makes you laugh harder.

“Grayson, I’ve got little toiletries and stuff. I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want you to be fine, I want you to be comfortable. Now tell me what I’m buying you because I’m already in the car.”

You list off all the products you use, the snacks have been your favorites, and he even says he’s going to get facemasks for you all to do.

When you pull into the long driveway, the butterflies erupt in your stomach. You had absolutely no clue how this would go, but there was no turning back now. You couldn’t, the driveway was too narrow to do that.

You reach the house and pull up next to the other cars in the driveway. You see Grayson sitting on the porch, which makes you laugh.

You turn the car off and go to gather your things when you hear your door open. You turn and see a giddy Grayson standing there.

“Hey.”

You laugh. “Hi there.”

“Where’s your stuff?”

“My bag is in the back seat.” He moves to grab your bag as you get your purse and hop out of the car, closing your door. He does the same once he’s got your bag on his shoulder.

“Welcome to the humble abode,” he says as he leads you by putting his hand on your back. You walk to the door and he opens it, letting you step in first.

“It is so nice in here.”

“My mom is super into décor and stuff. Wanna see where you’re staying?” You nod and he leads you to a closed door. When you look inside you see a bed next to… the washing and drier machine? You give him a questioning look.

“So we don’t have a guest room and I moved my bed into here because Ethan is annoying and I can’t share a room with him anymore. I’ll sleep on the couch.” You nod, walking inside. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not ideal. Ethan and I are gonna look for our own place when we’re back for the summer.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve slept in way worse place,” you giggle and he raises his brow.

“Alright, won’t ask. Ethan’s been low key dying to see you, even if he won’t admit it. He’s excited to meet his little niece or nephew.”

“Well I can’t deny him of that, can I? Where is he?”

Grayson leads you out into the main area. Ethan’s sitting at the dining table on his computer when he looks up and sees you. He’s immediately jumping up out of his seat.

“Y/N!” He runs over, but is stopped short by Grayson’s hand on his chest.

“Chill, bro. She’s pregnant. Don’t tackle her.”

Ethan rolls his eyes, ignoring him and keeping eye contact with you. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you giggle. He looks at you expectantly. You’re fully laughing now as you grab his hand and put it on your stomach. He’s falling to his knees instantly, his other hand going to the other side of your tummy.

“Hey baby. I know you don’t have ears or anything yet, but this is Uncle E talking to you. You have a whole bunch of people out here waiting for your arrival, but I’m definitely the most excited.” Grayson slaps the back of his head. “Ow. Okay, most excited besides your parents. I’ll be the cool uncle and all that.” He stands back up, looking at you again. “Sorry. Hi, how are you?” He laughs.

“I’m good, how are you?” You giggle.

“Good, yeah,” he nods. You all just stand there for a second looking at one another.

“Okay, we’re getting all the awkward out now because I refuse to be treated like the random hookup who got pregnant. Okay?” You look at the both of them and they look a bit surprised by your boldness. “Sorry, I’ve lost the little filter I had before.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Awkward is all gone now. Let’s give you a tour.” Ethan puts an arm around your shoulder and brings you into the kitchen, leaving Grayson where he’s standing. He follows behind you, his hands in his pockets while he watches the both of you interact.

You and Ethan get along really well. After your initial moment, it seems like you’d actually be really good friends. You felt bad for not talking to him more over winter break.

Grayson is not a huge fan. He’s sitting on the sidelines watching you talk and laugh while Ethan tells you all about the new video they’re editing right now. Before Grayson can cut in, Lisa walks in.

She smiles. “You must be Y/N.”

You stand from your chair, giving a soft smile as you wipe your sweaty hands on your leggings. “Hi, Mrs. Dolan. It’s really nice to meet you.” You hold your hand out to her and she laughs, pulling you into a hug.

“Honey, call me Lisa.” She rubs your back before pulling away and holding your elbows to look you in the eyes. “How’re you feeling?”

“Good!”

“Really? That’s good! These two put me through hell when I was pregnant with them. Can I get you anything?” You shake your head.

“No, I’m okay for now.”

“Just trying not to puke?” You laugh and nod. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“I’d know that face anywhere. Your first trimester is almost over, so you should be feeling better soon. Let me know if you need anything, okay?” She squeezes your arms before stepping back.

“Of course. Thank you for letting me stay.”

“This home is as much yours as it is Grayson’s now. You’re welcome here any time.” You smile and nod.

“Alright, you’re all gonna scare her away. Y/N, come see upstairs?” Grayson interjects and a part of you is relieved. Even though things were going really well, you were still on edge. You nod and go to follow him upstairs.

“I’m sorry about that, they just want you to feel comfortable here.” He leads you into a bathroom and shuts the door, making you laugh. “What?”

“The last time we were in this situation I got pregnant.” He starts laughing with you and you let your hand fall onto his shoulder.

Once you calm down, you smile widely at him. “They’re good people. Nice people. I’m sorry if I seem rude or off, I was just so anxious.”

He nods and pulls you into a hug, rubbing your back. You melt into him snuggling into his warm chest.

“It’s okay, they definitely understand. Plus, you didn’t seem anything but positive and happy. I couldn’t even tell you were trying not to puke.” You can feel his laugh rumble up through his chest.

“I’m still trying not to,” you laugh with him and he pulls back holding your shoulders to inspect your face. “I’m not gonna. Probably.” He raises his eyebrow. “Okay, if I do I’ll tell you so you can leave.” His face falls at that.

“No, I’ll sit with you and rub your back and all that. Get you water and stuff.” You’re shaking your head immediately.

“I hate puking in front of people. It’s okay, I’ve been doing it for weeks now. I’ve got a routine.” He pouts and pulls you back into a hug.

“I’m sorry. Please tell me if I can do literally anything for you.”

“You do enough, Gray. Don’t worry about it,” you mumble into his chest.

“What do you usually do to feel better?”

“Anything to distract myself. I just need to not think about it.”

“Challenge accepted.” He removes himself completely from you, opening the door. “Let’s go.”

The rest of the day with the Dolans is great. Grayson was right, you and Lisa are very similar and get along almost as well as you and Ethan do. You’re grateful they’re being so kind to you. Grayson is happy you’re getting along with his family, but it also makes him feel something he hasn’t felt in a while. Jealousy. He doesn’t want to admit that he likes having all of your attention, but he can’t act like he doesn’t want it all the time. When you’re on the phone with him, you’re usually alone. He liked when he got to hear about your day and then he got to open up to you. What can he say, he’s a selfish man.

That’s why when the night is winding down, he asks his family if you guys can watch a movie alone. Lisa goes up to her room for the night, but Ethan isn’t so kind at first.

“What, you don’t want me to crash your date?” He sits beside you on the couch where you’re right next to Grayson. Your cheeks blush and Grayson rolls his eyes.

“Shut the fuck up, E. Go away, you’ve harassed her all day.”

You open your mouth to say something but Ethan beats you to it.

“What if she likes spending time with me? After all, I am the better twin.”

“Bro if you don’t stop talking, I’ll fucking hit you.” “Yeah Gray? Doubt it. Y/N, I don’t blame you for-“ Ethan can’t finish his sentence before Grayson is up and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt to get him to stand up.

“Out. Now.” Ethan holds his hands up in mock surrender as he backs away.

“Fine. I’m out. But, you know. Have a good date. Use protection.” He laughs as he walks up the stairs. You chuckle as Grayson huffs and plops down next to you.

“I fucking hate him sometimes. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, that shit was kind of funny.”

Grayson settles in, remote in one hand and your thigh in the other. “What do you wanna watch?”

“Anything’s fine, I’m pretty tired anyways.” He nods and puts on Someone Great. You’d already seen it, but you didn’t say anything. You’d probably be asleep within ten minutes, anyway.

You were right. You don’t even remember seeing the first five minutes of the movie. You’re slumped on Grayson’s shoulder, snoring softly.

Grayson does everything in his power not to move, not wanting to disturb you. He thought you were cute when you slept.

You’re woken up when you feel Grayson shifting underneath you. You’d moved to be half on top of him in your sleep. You decide to ignore it, hoping you’d just fall back asleep. But, he’s moving under you again.

“Gray?” You mumble, barely audible.

“Sorry, sweet girl. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay. Stop moving.”

“Yeah, okay.” He puts his hands on your torso, shifting you a bit before he stills. That’s when you realize what you hear. There are moans coming from the tv. You open one eye, looking at the screen and sure enough they’re having sex. You giggle a bit.

“Hmm?” Grayson hums, running a hand over your back.

“Did the sex scene make you uncomfy?” This makes him laugh, shaking your body with his.

“No. Not uncomfy.” You suck in a breath at the implication of his words. You think back to what Anna said. Pregnant sex would probably be really hot. But you have no idea if he’d even be interested in that.

“Missing your girls from LA?” You’re asking before you can control your tongue. Your eyes widen as you realize what you’ve said. You might just chop your tongue off completely.

“What?”

“Nothing, was a joke. Let me sleep.” You breathe out, hoping he didn’t hear you.

“Y/N.” He pats your back and then pushing your shoulder to roll you over. He grabs your chin so you have to look at him. “What did you say?”

“I asked if you were missing your LA girls. It was a joke, because of the whole sex scene. Didn’t mean anything by it.” His face looks stone cold, like you’ve made him mad. “I’m sorry.”

“There are no LA girls,” he huffs, rolling his eyes. You raise your eyebrows. “What, do you think I’m a fuck boy or some shit?”

“Well, kinda.”

He looks genuinely shocked at your words, shaking his head. “Y/N, no. Hell no. Even if I was before, not now. There’s no LA girls, and there never have been.” He crosses his arms, completely retracting from you. You sit up.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I know it’s a shitty assumption, but I mean what were we doing? I just thought you did that with everyone.”

He bites his lip, thinking carefully about what he wants to say next.

“I know what we did was only once, but I thought you were a good person. After we left, I kinda looked forward to when I’d see you over the summer whenever Jessie would bring you around. I don’t know what I was thinking or expecting, but it wasn’t a one and done deal. Ethan just really didn’t feel good that morning and made me leave before I could see you.”

You nod, taking this new information in. Of all the things he was going to say, you didn’t expect that. Although, he seems to always be filled with surprises.

“I’m sorry. It was a stupid comment, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Have there been any college guys?” He raises a brow.

“What? No. Even if I didn’t feel like a chubby marshmallow or some shit, no. I was…affected by our night together. And not just in the pregnant way.” You lean back next to him, mirror his posture.

“Oh, so you couldn’t stop thinking about my dick?” He smirks at you. You hit his arm and laugh.

“Shut up, that makes it sound so…dirty.”

“If it’s not dirty, then how were you thinking about it?”

“I don’t know. Just knew no one would really meet my expectations like you did.” Your voice is getting quieter and quieter as you feel like you want the couch to swallow you up.

“Yeah? How so?”

“You’re the first guy to make me finish.”

He gasps. “Y/N, no. Liar.”

You shake your head slowly, biting your lip.

“Wow. First guy to make you cum, first guy to impregnate you. I’m on a roll.” He puts his arm around your shoulder as you laugh.

“Oh god, I’m feeding his ego more and more.” You throw your arms up in defeat and he laughs.

“Well, the thought of you getting off to the thought of me this whole time definitely feeds my ego.”

Your cheeks blush as you roll your eyes. “Shut up.”

He laughs harder, pulling you closer to his body. “Nothing to be ashamed of, baby. Your hormones are raging. I’ve heard through the grapevine that pregnant women are horny all the time.”

“The grapevine? Who’s that?” “…Movies.”

“Alright well if you’ve got no LA girls, then you’ve been jerking off to the thought of me, too so I don’t appreciate the mockery.” You finally look at him, pointing your finger at him.

He bites his lips, his cheeks also becoming a dark shade of red. “You’ve caught me red handed.”

You giggle and poke his cheek. “That’s what I thought. Bet your fantasy is all ruined now that I’m getting bigger, though.”

He looks at you genuinely confused. “What?” You look at him with the same look of confusion. “Pregnancy isn’t sexy.”

He laughs. Like genuine, whole hearted laughter. “What are you talking about?” “What are you talking about?” You fire back.

“The fact that you’re pregnant with my baby is the hottest shit ever. I did that shit. We did that shit. It’s hot.”

“We can agree to disagree, then.”

So much for trying to keep things simple, Grayson thinks to himself.

“Let me prove it.”

***

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jenomark · 4 years

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Part 2

➔Pairing: Idol!Haechan x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Smut ➔Warnings: Public sex + Vaginal penetration + Masturbation (F+ M) + Fingering ➔Word count: 4,170

➔Summary: He’s an idol, a friend, and you took his virginity. Beginning your friends-with-benefits relationship with Haechan wasn’t the best idea, but you just can’t help yourself when it comes to him.

↞ Part 1

They all feel how you feel when you watch him on stage, like he belongs to you. His smile just for you. Not for the camera, or the thousands viewing clips on social media, but just for you. His song performed for you, the words containing messages only you can decipher. His hips moving across the stage, the thing in his pants pointing in your direction, everything moving towards you, the girl in the crowd, the girl watching backstage, the girl sitting on her bed. No matter where you are in the world, the lights burn across your retinas, the heat in the seat of your pants making it hard for you to stay still. You move just a little bit and feel the throb below, a Venus flytrap waiting for its prey. You pretend he makes eye contact with only you, acknowledging the very existence you try to hide from everyone else. He sees you, he really does.

The song ends and the mirage vanishes. Six people go in different directions, smiles wiped from their faces as easily as make-up. They forget the crowd, forget what it means to be themselves when others are watching. He veers towards you just a moment before remembering where he is and who he is, and then he passes you like you’re invisible. You wonder what he was going to do if he reached you. Kissing in public is too dangerous, even talking together arouses suspicion. You wait a second and follow him, each step playing around with your heart. As you round a corner, you walk into him, your body bouncing off of his.

“I didn’t see you,” he said. He did. “I’m sorry.” He’s not.

His fingers are on your arm, his eyes gawking at your cleavage, his tongue licking the middle of his chin. Staff pass by and he lets you go. He steps back and leans against a wall, his body pressing against its blank canvas like a work of art. People cut between you two, but neither of you notice, or care. He smiles, raises an eyebrow, and purses his lips with the pride of a million men.

“Come with me.” he mouths.

As if you have a choice, you follow him through the people, past the place you had come from. A few staff turn to see the idol boy, his greetings charming, his stage outfit sticking out like a sore thumb. No one notices the girl trailing behind him, her eyes following him with determination, her legs clamped so tightly together, even as she walks. Haechan goes down a ramp until he’s underneath the stage. You hesitate a moment before following behind him. There is something about breaking the rules that has always scared you. Since you met Haechan, you had been doing a lot of that. Though you are terrified of being recognized, no one is paying attention to you. He hides behind large black cases on wheels, their metal clasps shiny when the strobe lights from above the stage hit them. Stacked on top of each other, no one can see what’s going on behind them. To reach him, you step over wires and broken lights that have been replaced. The moment the space swallows you up, Haechan takes your shoulders and pushes you up against the cases. He unbuttons your jeans and slides his palm in until his fingers are cupping you. The rough way he rubs his hand against you makes your knees threaten to buckle.

“This is dangerous.” you shout.

The sound from the music above drowns out your words. You’re afraid he can’t hear you, but then he leans in close to your ear and tells you that the danger is the best part. His tongue is on your neck for a second before his head is between your breasts. He’s greedy. His hands haven’t stopped rubbing you, your clit so sensitive and swollen that you can’t feel anything but a soft burn. When he pulls himself out from between your breasts, you can see that his make-up has worn off, and his lips are puffy from sucking and kissing your skin. The strobe lights from above the stage are peaking through the cracks, lighting up his face in brilliant hues of purple and blue.

“Hi,” Haechan says. “It’s been awhile since I last saw you.”

He removes his hand. He doesn’t pause to tell you to taste yourself, like he normally would. Haechan’s weakness is knowing how wet he makes you, and your weakness is giving in to him every single time. He hooks his fingers on either side of your jeans and pulls them down your thighs. They’re so tight that they won’t budge past your knees without a fight. Feeling frustrated, Haechan spins you around and bends you over one of the cases. Trying to get out of his buckled stage outfit also proves difficult, but the boy is determined. His cock is in you before you look behind to see if he’s free. The feeling of him never fails to flip your whole world upside down.

You say his name, and you say it loudly. The music vibrates your whole body, the heavy bass perfectly timed with his every thrust. The thrill of getting caught makes you want to scream every syllable of his name, each letter like a bread crumb leading to your hiding place. You think of how the music has to stop some time, how the lights have to turn on to reveal what is bent over in the darkness, and you wonder what it will be like when it happens.

Haechan: Are you thinking of me?

You: You wish.

Haechan: I’m hurt. Ah, it’s night time back home. Are you getting ready for bed? What are you doing?

You: Not you.

Haechan: You’ve been hanging around my friends too much. Seriously, none of you are funny.

You: Does the thought of me hanging out with your friends make you jealous?

Haechan: Yes. We both know I don’t share. I miss you. I’ve been away for too long. It feels like I’m going crazy.

You: Donghyuck, It’s been four days.

Haechan: That’s too long.😣 Do you miss me?

You: No.

Haechan: I’M HURT.

You: I have a hard time believing that. What are you doing? How was the performance?

Haechan: I think it went well. We almost dropped Mark during Cherry Bomb. Right now, I’m getting ready to eat. Taeil, Yuta and Johnny want local food. I’m really excited.

You: I hope you’re enjoying yourself. ☺️

Haechan: I am. I’ve been horny.

You: Is that all I’m good for?

The sound of the video call made you jump out of your skin. Like always, your volume was turned all the way up. You looked at your phone and saw Haechan’s picture staring back at you. At the beginning of your relationship, he had snapped a photo of himself and set it as the wallpaper for when he calls. “Don’t show this to anyone,” he had said. “They’ll never stop making fun of me.” In the picture he was acting cute, his finger poking his cheek. The way he looked was so far removed from how you saw him most days : sexy, naked, his face screwed up in orgasm. The word Devil was still a part of his name only you had added a little red heart next to it. You stared at his face a little longer before accepting the video call.

“What took you so long?” he asked. “I don’t have much time.”

You could see he was sitting in a hotel bathroom, most likely on the toilet with the lid down. When he saw you looking, he held the phone up to give you a short tour of the bathroom. He showed you the tub where he said he’d like to fuck you in, the toilet he was sitting on, and the sink. You weren’t as interested in his surroundings as much as you were in seeing his face.

“It’s nice.” you said.

“It’s nice until Mark comes in here,” he said. “Speaking of, he went out to grab something from Jaehyun’s room, so I don’t have a lot of time before he comes back. Let me see them.”

“Them?” you asked. You were playing dumb. You knew exactly what he wanted to see.

“Ahhh,” he groaned. “Why do you do this to me?”

In the darkness of your bedroom, you didn’t think he would be able to see you well. You lifted up your shirt, anyway, and showed him your breasts. Haechan was dramatic when you revealed them, his mouth hanging open, the sound from his throat sounding like a croak. You pulled your shirt down quickly, the disappointment showing clearly on his face.

“You can see more of them when you get back.” you told him.

“Six days,” he said. “I can wait six more days.”

It was the first time you were separated for more than three days. It had been almost two months since you started fooling around, but he came to your apartment nearly every day to spend time with you. Haechan being a staple in your life made it harder for you when he was absent.

During your short period of being together, you had grown too comfortable with him. You had exerted your time, patience and body far beyond what you thought it was capable of. There were days when your emotions completely took over, your happiness cradled in the palm of his hands. You were disappointed when you couldn’t see him, his fist closing tightly around any motivation you had for anything. In the physical aspect, there were days when your muscle aches were so bad after you finished fucking that you had to use muscle relaxing patches to get through your next work day. Fucking three times a night-sometimes four- was just as time consuming as it seemed. You were losing sleep, losing interest in doing anything but thinking of new ways to make him come.

You liked to wonder how it was from Haechan’s point of view. You didn’t know how he survived juggling his schedules, priorities, and you, all at the same time. He should have collapsed from exhaustion, or at least aroused suspicion from his members and the staff.

Even through all of the risks on both sides, neither of you wanted to stop when the reward felt so good. Stopping was never an option, not for you, or him. You were as addicted to him as he was to you, and you could not get enough of your drug. After you made him come, you wanted to get back on top of him, riding him until your pussy was raw, until your thighs hurt from being spread apart for so long. You didn’t know when each of you started wanting to break the other, but the obsession was seeping into every part of your life.

“Let me see your cock.” you said.

“What?” he asked. “My cock?”

The shyness in his voice made you smile. You tried to hide it off-camera, but he could see the way your cheeks were rising. Haechan smiled, too, his laughter directed towards the floor. In the camera, all you could see was his Balenciaga hat and the little tufts of hair curling around his ear. In between fucking, you would lay with him while he fell in and out of sleep, your fingers curling that very section of hair. In moments like that, you thought about how easy he was to love, and how hard it was to stop. He stood, turned around and placed his phone against what you thought might be the top of the sink.

“Are you sure you want to see it?” he asked. “You might not be able to control yourself.”

Haechan lifted up his shirt and tucked the end of the fabric underneath his chin. The belt he wore around his waist barely kept his pants up. He was losing weight lately, his body being worked in every direction. He unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his top button, brought his zipper all the way down until his briefs were revealed. When you saw his cock, it was soft. He rolled it around the tips of his fingers until it started growing to its full length. Your mouth watered at the sight of him. You sat up in bed, brought your knees to your chest and rested your phone against your thighs.

“How long do you think you have?” you asked.

“A few minutes.” he said.

You didn’t have to tell him to touch himself. Haechan was already jerking himself off, looking down at his cock in his hands before looking into the phone camera. He turned to the side so you could have another angle of his body. Though it was probably wiser to keep quiet, Haechan did as he wanted. The moans filled the hotel bathroom, along with the sound of his palm around his cock.

“Tell me you want me,” he said. “Tell me you want your mouth around me.”

You took your phone into your left hand. With your right hand, you dipped it into your pajama pants and started playing with your clit. Your eyes were on his cock, his fingers rhythmically moving to his deep sighs. There was something so torturous about seeing him and not being able to have him. You had to stop yourself from bringing the phone up to your face and trying to lick him through the screen.

“I want you,” you said. “I want my mouth around you.”

You closed your eyes and imagined his cock sliding past your lips. You loved holding onto his hips and controlling how fast he fucked your face. You imagined what it would feel like to grab a handful of his ass as he did that. You tried to taste his imaginary cum, and how it would spill out all at once, like you had bitten into a delicious fruit and the juice was gushing into your mouth.

“Tell me…,” he began to say, his words breathless. “Tell me I’m the only one.”

“You’re the only one.”

You were moaning with him, your voices rising in unison. Having sex via video call wasn’t what you had planned for the night, but you knew it was a vital part of your life.

“Tell me-”

“-Tell you what? Anything. I will tell you anything.” you said.

“Tell me goodbye, Mom, I’ll talk to you later.” he said.

Your eyes snapped open as the video call ended. His selfie flashed for a second before disappearing. You were nearing climax, but the confusion made you stop touching yourself. You took your hands away from your pussy and read the text coming through.

Haechan: Fuck. Sorry. Mark. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

You dropped your phone beside you and sunk back into your sheets, your pussy full of nothing but regret.

“Are you crazy?” you asked. “You shouldn’t be here.

“I wanted to see you.”

He stood in front of your apartment at midnight, his hat low over his eyes, a face mask over his mouth. The way he looked reminded you so much of the night you realized you wanted him in very compromising positions. You had grabbed the first jacket from your entryway, which just so happened to be one of his that he left. You hugged it tightly around your body, the smell of him wafting into your nostrils.

“Just see me?” you asked.

He laughed. “Yes. Now that I’ve seen you, I can go.”

“You and I both know that you can never just go.”

“Perhaps I am crazy,” he said. “But I am also tired. Jet lag. I should be resting.”

“Don’t let me stop you then.”

You stood with a lot of distance between you. The way you were feeling as you looked at him felt foreign to you. Normally, you would barely talk before you stumbled into your apartment, tearing off each others clothes, pushing things onto the floor to fuck on the hallway table. With your whole relationship about the benefits rather than the friendship, it was easier to direct. You didn’t know how to handle moments when you were both forced to act like two non-feral people.

You felt like you wanted to tell him everything you’d went through since he’d been gone. You wanted to grab a bite to eat where no one knew his name, sitting cross-legged on the floor, and watching him eat his fill. Wanting those things made you unsure about how you truly felt.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” he asked. “This is a one-time offer.”

“Okay.” you answered.

You shut and locked the door to your apartment. When you turned back to him, his arm was extended. You looked down at his hand. Those hands had been all over your body. Sometimes you watched those hands touching other people and wondered what they would think if they knew they had been inside of you.

Losing his nerve, Haechan pulled it back before you could take it. Without saying anything, you moved beside him and took his hand back. If he wanted to hold hands, you would give him what he wanted. You both walked half a block before you spoke.

“How was travelling?” you asked.

“Fun, “ he said. “I feel lucky. I’m so grateful for the opportunities. I like it. How was your time while I was gone?”

You didn’t know how to answer truthfully so you just agreed that your time was equally as fun. Work days blended together when you had nothing to look forward to. You didn’t like to admit that you weren’t sure what day it was, or that so much of your life revolved around him. Luckily, he didn’t press you any further. It’s not that Haechan didn’t care what you were feeling inside, just that his outlook on life stayed blissfully positive, and you didn’t want to be the one to take that away from him.

“The clubs are still open,” Haechan pointed out. “I could use a drink right now.”

You knew that holding hands in public was the worst thing you could do that wasn’t behind closed doors. You never knew who could be watching, their phones clicking away like the ringing of a cash register. The people stumbling out of the clubs could be people you worked for, or worked with. All it took was for one person to recognize Haechan and the fun would be over. You thought about letting go of his hand, but you didn’t want to. He sensed your fear and directed you away from the crowds exiting the club.

“It will be okay,” he said. “As long as you’re with me, nothing will happen.”

You walked a few blocks before turning back to your apartment. The walking was aimless. After the club, you only came across a few people grabbing late night snacks at a convenience store. In the world the night had created, you both began to act more boldly. Haechan’s laugh was loud, his happiness contagious for people who passed you by. He brought you to him for back hugs, his arms squeezed tightly around you, his chin digging into your shoulder. Halfway back to your place, he got a message on his phone that stopped both of you in your tracks. You watched his face falter, his eyebrows furrowed together.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“It will be okay,” he said, repeating his line from earlier. “Don’t worry about me. Let’s just be here together.”

You walked the rest of the way in a weird silence. You kept looking over at him to figure out was wrong. Worst case scenario: everyone found out about what you two were doing. Best case scenario? You didn’t know, but you were hoping to find out one day.

“This is where I leave you, my princess.” he said.

You stood in front of your door. Hearing him call you his Princess made you want to giggle. In the beginning of your relationship, it was Haechan who reacted in such a way. Taking his virginity made him a little dependent on you. He often giggled when you suggested new positions, or told him how pretty you thought he was. Now that you were far into knowing each other in the most intimate ways, it was you who couldn’t stop becoming so giddy every time he opened his mouth. He could see his affect very well. You wore it hugged closely around your body, just like his jacket.

“Be careful walking home.” you said.

Haechan took a step forward. His figure was sexy, his eyes mentally undressing you. You thought that he might stay a little longer and fuck you on your apartment steps. Instead, he kissed you, his lips petal soft. As he pulled away, you could barely open your eyes to look at him. He backed away from you, his trademark smirk faltering just a little.

He stopped to look at you after making every move. For anyone else, you would have faked your enjoyment, but for Haechan, everything was honest. If he touched you, your body quaked in response. You couldn’t stop your eyelids from fluttering, your body from moving up the bed to get away from his persistence. If he made you feel good, you let him know with your shortness of breath, your knuckles clenched around the sheets.

“You make the funniest faces when you orgasm.” he observed.

You resisted the urge to take the pillow from underneath your head and whack him with it. Haechan sat between your legs, your knees hooked over his thighs. Often, you sat like this when you both felt too lazy for much else. He would play with your pussy for what felt like hours, his fingers pushing into you to see how many you could take. He would trace your labia with his fingertips, draw love hearts on your clit. He loved the way you looked when you were wide open for him, loved you shaved and unshaven.

“It’s a compliment,” he said when he sensed your hostility. “I love everything about you, especially how ugly you look when you’re on top .”

You clamped your legs shut, trapping his arm. He laughed gleefully, pushing your legs back open before climbing up your body. He laid across you, his full body weight crushing yours.

“You’re heavy.” you said.

Haechan flopped his body around, like a fish, until you felt his weight even more. You wheezed dramatically. The way you both joked around always made your day better. Laughing with him eased a lot of stress from your daily life. You used your hands to squeeze his cheeks. When he made a fishy face, you kissed his lips.

“I could stay like this all day.” you said.

“Not me,” he said. “I don’t want you lying on your back the whole time.”

You rolled your eyes, and he jokingly got offended. You pulled his neck down so that you could kiss him again. You made out like that, your naked bodies on top of each other, for awhile. The concept of time didn’t matter when you were together. There were times when you were thankful that all you did was have sex with each other. There was no fighting, no expectations, and nothing that could be torn apart if it wasn’t together to begin with. When your phone lit up, both of you pulled away.

“Who is it?” he asked.

“How am I supposed to know?”

Haechan took one look at your phone lit up on your night stand and pushed it off. It clattered onto the floor, your protective case splitting in two. You started to get up to check on it, but he pushed you back down. He got onto his knees and pushed your legs up so that your ass was lifted off the bed. His distraction tactics were good, you had to give him that.

“I’ll buy you a new phone.” he said.

Haechan took your hands and interlocked his fingers with yours. When he entered you, your mind forgot the phone altogether. The way he moved wasn’t his normal fast pace. Haechan liked to fuck you hard, each orgasm strong and earth shattering. Passionate was not a word you often used to describe what you and him did in the bedroom. As he moved inside of you, he lowered his body down over yours until he was hugging you. He kissed you as deeply as he was thrusting.

10:02 a.m.

Haechan: You’re not answering your phone

10:03 a.m.

Haechan: Call me back

10:46 a.m.

Haechan: I’m sorry I left so many voicemails I don’t know what to do

11:00 a.m.

Haechan: Pick up your phone

11:16 a.m.

Haechan: Johnny knows. He’s on his way to your apartment. Don’t tell him anything.

#haechan #nct #lee donghyuck #lee donghyuck smut #haechan smut #lee haechan #nct haechan smut #nct smut #nct fanfiction #haechan fanfiction #haechan smut fanfiction #nct smut fanfiction #I mean it's more than just smut tbh #there is a plot #it just has a lot of sex #anyway please forgive typos and stuff :D

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messengerhermes · 3 years

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Let's talk home maintenance. Let's talk about home maintenance when the home is you. Content Warnings: This post is about building coping skills in the face of depression and PTSD, and other mental health challenges, it will allude to suicidal ideation and suicidality. So here's the thing. You are your house. Your body, your mind, all of you, is the home you live in. Some of the shit in your house is stuff you inherited, some of it's been gifted to you, some of it's found it's way in there over time, but all of it informs the general ambience of your home. Likewise, the rooms, the layout, the color of the walls, where your floorboards creak, and how the pipes whistle and hum when you run the hot water are all shaped by the experiences you've had from when you were first spat out into the world. Hell, they're shaped by the experiences of those who raised you in this world to. Having a home can be an incredible experience. But it can also, sometimes, be hell, be boring, be painful, be overwhelming. Especially because throughout our lives, our homes will change. New rooms will spring into existence, old ones may jam themselves shut. A cupboard you've never been able to get open will suddenly bang it's doors wide in the middle of the night. All the knick knacks well meaning relatives have given you over the years will break through the attic floor raining a clashing decor nightmare into your living room. The poltergeist you've managed to ignore for ten years will suddenly start rattling every tchotchke you've got, screaming loud enough to break glass whenever you have guests, and rearranging the contents off all your drawers. A hurricane will blow through and break all your windows, or a deep freeze will burst your pipes and flood the place. And when the home is you, you can't just sell it and buy a new one. There are periods in our life where our home may feel smothering, or frighteningly alien to us, or broken beyond repair, or any myriad of things that can warp the way we experience it. We can begin making our own ghosts, tearing at the floorboards and ripping up the plaster. We can stop believing that anyone would want to visit this place. Stop. Breathe. Here's a secret that is not a secret: No matter how often someone comes over to our house, they will never match the amount of time we spend there. Yes, even the people who we've decided to share gardens with, who we've built connecting walkways with. Even when you are absolutely sick of your house because it is always there with it's drippy pipes and groaning furnace and the wallpaper you loved five years ago but now it makes you nauseas to look at, other people are not going to feel that visceral exhaustion about your house, because they only ever visit. And the truth is, sometimes they are as deeply sick of their own houses as you are of yours, and sometimes, going to visit each other can help ease that frustration, that loneliness, and exhaustion. Even if neither of you does a damn thing to work on your houses in that moment. Sitting together, letting each other witness the ways your houses groan and rock in the wind, the faded places, the half finished renovations, is enough. Alright, now that this post has gone on for ages, I want to talk about home maintenance, or "What to do if you're getting sick of your house." This is not complete, or perfect, but hopefully it helps. 1. Sort through everything. Create an inventory of all the features and traits in your home, all the things it can do. Marie Kondo that shit. Decide what you're keeping, what you're tossing, and what to pass on to someone else. Thank the things you're letting go of, they came into your house because at some point you needed them, and it's okay to be different now. If you're struggling to find anything you like, or anything worth keeping, invite others into the process. Ask them to make lists of shit they like about you, things they notice as strengths, traits that come to mind when they think of you, or positive memories. Actually sit with those answers, don't dismiss

them. Figure out which parts feel good and which parts feel like you're playing a role that doesn't suit you anymore. Sort accordingly. Keep the list of all the things you're keeping somewhere you can review it often. Add to it as new things occur to you or people in your life pay you compliments.

2. Identify places for updates. Now that you're offloading some shit and know what you want to keep, think about what things you want updated. Maybe you want to change that aforementioned wallpaper. Maybe the boiler needs fixing. Maybe you want to call someone in to see about that poltergeist. Maybe you want a new kitchen. Break down the places you want change to happen into smaller components, and if possible, figure out how much time they might each take. You're not gonna rip out your entire kitchen all at once and get it done in a month, that's shit for real houses, not metaphor houses. But maybe you can tile a new backsplash, and then refinish your cabinets. Maybe you can get a new fridge.

3. Break things Up. Break those updates up into categories based on how much time and energy they'll take you. Something like "Quick Fixes" for updates that are just swapping things out (say, a new haircut, changes in wardrobe, different accessories, rearranging the furniture in your actual meatspace living space), "Short Term Projects" (like finding a new job, picking up a new hobby, reconnecting with folks, finding a therapist or support group--things that may require more energy than the quick fixes, but can be done over the span of a few months), and "Long Term Projects" (things like, going to therapy or joining a support group, addressing a deeper trauma or hard thing via talking with friends, reading on the subject and shifting behavior patterns, et al, this list is made up of stuff that can take years). For the long term projects, see if you can break them down into items that fit into the shorter lists (for example, if a long term project for you is Transition maybe that can be broken up into smaller components of changing your hair/clothes/pronouns, talking with close friends, accessing support groups, going to social events, identifying what you want for your transition, accessing healthcare if you're interested in medical transition). 4. Pace Yourself. Now that you've broken up your lists, figure out the pacing that works for you. Maybe you can do five quick fixes in a week and that will be a huge help. Maybe you can do a quick fix here and there and cycle between a couple of the short term projects. Maybe two of your long term projects overlap in some of their components and it makes them easier to tackle. Figure out what is doable for you, but also check in with yourself. Maybe you'll have a very "go go go" six months where you blast through a big chunk of short term projects, or feel like you make huge headway on a long-term project but then you hit a plateau. Don't try and force yourself to keep that pace, let yourself move where you're at. 5. Tell People About Your Housework. I know, vulnerability. Awful, disgusting, terrifying. Too bad. Do it anyway. Okay, let me be kinder here: When you tell people that your home is not perfect, that you have to do work on things, that you want to make changes and are, it give them permission to do the same thing. That's community, that's power, that's care. When you share, be clear about how you're sharing and what you're wanting from them. Are you looking for advice? Are you proud of something and want recognition? Do you need to be hyped up for something hard? Are you looking to share about the rough stuff and have the other person also share their rough stuff and that's how y'all support one another? 6. Call for a Barn Raising. Remember how I said if you can't think of things to keep when you're sorting through your house, call in others? Yeah, keep doing that. Maybe that support looks like just having someone sit with you as you talk through shit. Maybe it looks like getting to go out and blow bubbles in the park or ice skate, or lie in the grass and watch the clouds. Maybe it looks like grocery shopping together, or eating together so you'll actually eat. Maybe it looks like joining a Discord or Reddit with the same interests as you and posting. Our house is our own, but we are not meant to live all alone way up on some hillside, and we're not meant to fix up our homes alone either. Relearn pleasure with others, relearn joy, and curiosity, and grief, and hope and be held in your sadness and hurt. 7. Recognize Your Home is Lovable. Love is an action. Love is joy, is laughter, is pleasure, is tenderness. It is also care and effort. It is not easy to love in deep ways. It takes work, sometimes it means going out of your way, sometimes it means doing things that are tiring. You are not bad or wrong for sometimes requiring effort to love. Needing dedicated attention, having places where you bristle and snarl, having periods where you struggle to hold your home in tenderness and need others to remind you of its wonder is human. Be accountable for the

places your actions have left hurts, change your behavior, accept how relationships shift in the wake of your actions. But do not let the shame monsters in your basement chew away at the floorboards above them til everything falls in that pit. Practice believing you are worthy of love, even in the painful moments where someone you love may no longer love you in turn. Yes, this step is hard as shit. When we lose a person's love, or are struggling to love ourselves, it can be easy to fall into the trap of thinking we are not worthy of anyone's love at all. But we are. It's as simple and profoundly difficult as that.

8. Rest and Feel Good. Literally, do nothing. Lie belly up in the sunshine. Read/listen to a good book, enjoy a show you love. Create emotional playlists and lose yourself in feelings. Paint, draw, sculpt, crochet, cross stitch, play an instrument, do it wonderfully, do it terribly, just do it if it feels good. Shove your hands in the dirt and make homes for tender seedlings, enjoy their journey, mourn when they wither, celebrate when they bloom. Cook things you've never made before, cook things you make all the time. Relish good food. Relish criticizing terrible food. Go to markets and shove your hands in the dry grain barrels, run your palms over fabrics and feel their textures. Smile at pretty strangers you have no intention of talking to and enjoy how the expression feels on your face. Tell people when you like their clothes. Find people to hold, to lie pressed up close in hammocks or scrunched up on the couch together. Kiss if you're the kissing type. Fuck if you're the fucking type. Dance if that moves you. Get your ass slapped if that moves you. Let yourself feel good without guilt, without suffering, without shame. Your pain is not a fee you must pay for pleasure. We are animals and are made for all the sweetness of life. Relish in that. I will stop here, since I have gone on long enough. This list is not a prescription, it is not the One True Answer, nor is it complete. But, if you decided to read all way through it, if you woke up this morning and put your head in your hands in a house that is haunted, is weighted down with strange rooms with inheritances you don't know what to do with, I hope you can move through the clutter and fix your hands on one thing you wish to keep in it all. And then another. And another. I hope you can be the home you dream of, again and again and again.

#mental health #coping skills #long post #depression #anxiety #support systems #coping

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lynsburner · 3 years

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would love to know what the original plans were for the live in dublin recording, its so strange to me that they did nothing with it

It really is. Also, my apologies, because now I'm going to use this ask to say way too much about what I think happened.

Ok, so I have a few theories…..

It was recorded solely for archival/marketing/personal use. Like never meant to be sold, but a “let’s remember this” or a “hmmm it’s good to have at least one show professionally recorded, esp our biggest venue” that way they can use it for marketing materials (to advertise the next tour/album, like how they put the humors of whiskey on tik tok a little while ago in like full HD). Not meant to be sold as a tour movie. I know this sounds far-fetched but this happens with live events all the damn time. You couldn’t even imagine how many performances are recorded just for marketing materials/B-roll (albeit I worked in more of the theatrical sector of live events, but still, live events) that never sees the light of day. Plus, remember how that one festival filmed his whole set and put it up only for a few days? Things get filmed all the time not specifically meant to be sold. Also, maybe they just wanted it filmed for the band/crew/whoever worked on it as a keepsake? (ok now that's a stretch but still a possibility)

2. It was supposed to be a tour movie, with the intention to be sold/streamed, which separates into my subsections of:

Was meant to be sold/go to a streaming service but contracts fell through. The distribution of live performances is a complicated process due to contractual issues (do the musicians have a union? Who gets a cut? Etc…..). So, by the time things got going, they thought it was too late to sell (we are in 2021), and they scrapped the idea and are rethinking it for the next tour. Plus, they now have footage of what a bigger venue tour might look like to plan the production design for the next one. (which, can also fit into my archival theory)

Hozier might have just might not liked his performance. It was the last show, and while they were in the biggest venue, the energy is kind of small (that’s not to say they were bad, not at all, just exhausted). Thought it wasn’t worth selling/even showing, so it got scrapped and now lives on the hard drive of whoever uploaded it. Someone also pointed out on Twitter that the venue itself isn’t too great in terms of filming/sound, so that might have also been a factor in not wanting to, well, sell it.

By the time they actually got around to editing it, thanks to the pandemic, Hozier was already working on new music, so it could’ve been seen as too old by his team. This also leads into my next point of

It was meant to be sold but now they’re only using it as assets for marketing/archival (hence that humors of whiskey tik tok) and probably to announce the next tour like a little video or something

Also, not to add this in, but it’s kind of weird how like in 2020 when everyone is home and surely no one knew when they were playing live next, they could’ve maybe got an editor looking for work, put this up for like a small fee and donated all the money to group helping struggling artists/live even crews during the pandemic.

But then that goes back to contracts…. Was this meant to be seen… did he want this to be seen… etc… it’s more than just “lol someone leaked it!!!” Or “I can’t believe they hid this from us!!!”

Like an ogre, or an onion, it’s got layers.

I mean, the cut was clearly rough. The edits were… not great. Someone said it looks like interviews might be missing between songs to make it more concert movie? Movement was straight up silent, and I’m not sure if that was a copyright-related thing. Plus, who even leaked it in the first place??? No one outside of stan social media really was really begging for it (it git maybe 2k views max the last time I saw it)??? The world may never know!!!!

And now, watch, once I say this, it’ll be released tomorrow officially lol

Again, sorry for the long response. As someone who has worked (thank you, pandemic) and will hopefully in the future work in entertainment in all its many forms), it's fun to think about things from more of a business/administrative perspective? IDK if that all makes sense!

Anyway, I hope this doesn't come across as pretentious. Also, no shade to whoever downloaded it while it was up (I have it somewhere on my computer lol), especially if he does not tour to your area/country!!!!!

#like it's so interesting to think what the fuck happened with this show #where was the point in which they stopped trying to get this out? or if they even wanted this out??#or maybe we see an HD version up soon?#did not expect this to be as mysterious as the new spider man movie #sorry for this being long #well

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lousimusician · 4 years

Text

Trying To Adjust (Part 2)

Pairing: Frat!Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Tom deals with the aftermath of your breakup

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: none

——————————————

Ever since the party, Tom had been having a rough time with what had happened.

And he was finding it harder to get along with his friends, now that he realized that most of them, other than Harrison, were assholes.

Tom really liked you, like really liked you.

The two of you had met during one of your projects. The school was holding a film festival and you were going to be directing your own film and since Tom was an acting major, he turned up at the audition.

You absolutely loved his performance and immediately said yes.

And naturally, since you and Tom would be working so closely, he flirted with you for a bit, and you flirted back, but once he asked you out, you turned him down.

It had been a huge hit to his ego, and from there he had been pretty determined to take you out. But after you had first turned him down, all of his following advancements were ignored.

After a month he had given up. And he was glad he did because once he started focusing more on the film and work, he had realized just how passionate you were about film.

And he admired it greatly.

He loved how determined you were about directing and writing, that after a certain day of shooting he looked up all of your past projects he found on your YouTube channel and watched them all. And not only that he ended up practically stalking you on every social media website you had.

And from there he was completely head over heels for you.

It was something he had never felt before. He had no desire to be in a serious relationship until you came along.

He stopped sleeping with girls because he honestly didn’t care about them anymore and he went back to trying to ask you out, but in a more easygoing way as to not come off strong anymore.

And at the end of the month, you agreed to go out with him.

If only Tom hadn’t been so clueless to the concept of dating, then you wouldn’t have broken up in the messy way you had.

And now with every passing day, Tom was missing you more and more.

The only problem was that he had no idea how to talk to you again after what happened.

Which is why complaining to Harrison all day and night was what he resorted to—

“Do you think she misses me?” Tom asked, staring up at the ceiling.

”Nope.” Harrison said, popping the ‘p’.

At this point Harrison had just started saying anything he wanted to since Tom was refusing to listen anyway. But as long as he could finish this damn paper by tonight, he didn’t really care too much about Tom’s woes.

”You know I blew her off 8 times? I even stood her up on two of those occasions.” He sighed.

”Uh-huh— you were an awful boyfriend,” he said typing away.

”God, what’s wrong with me,” he said, sitting up and looking to Harrison.

He looked up from his laptop, “What? Like you want a list or something?”

”C’mon Haz! I’m serious!”

Harrison rolled his eyes, “You were too consumed with what everyone thought of you. That, and you never had the attention span to focus on one girl for long periods of time anyway.” He said, going back to typing.

Tom fell back onto his bed, exasperated. “She probably hates me.”

And we were back to not taking Harrison’s actual criticisms.

”Not probably— she most definitely hates you.”

”I wonder how she’s doing.”

”Probably a lot better since the breakup.”

”What should I do?”

”Nothing, suck it up and fuck her roommate.”

”How could I have messed up so bad— my first ever relationship!”

”Because you self-sabotage and you’re destined to be alone forever.”

”Ugh, what am I gonna do?”

”Already told you, move on and fuck her roommate.”

”What?”

Harrison looked over his laptop and at Tom who was staring back at him, “What, finally decided to listen to me?”

”I’m serious!”

”Fine. You know what you should do? You should go find her, apologize and beg on your knees for her to take you back. Promise her you’ll be a better boyfriend and follow through on that promise. That is what you should do.”

”I can’t, it’ll never work,” he groaned.

Harrison sighed and shook his head, turning back to his paper.

————

“So Victoria told me she was interested in being apart of your next film,” Elizabeth told you, as she sat watching something on her laptop on top of her bed.

”Really? That’s awesome, she’s a business major right?” You asked, in the middle of some writing homework.

”Yeah, said she has a passion for acting, but her parents forced her to go the business route.

You hummed, “Well tell her I’m holding auditions next week.”

She nodded, “Of course.”

The two of you groaned upon hearing someone knock at the door, “Not it.” You quickly said, making Elizabeth have to go up and answer it.

”Whatever,” she grumbled, hopping off the bed and going to answer the door.

She swung it open to see Harrison standing in front of her, but you couldn’t see who it was, “Yes?” She asked.

”(Y/N) here?”

She promptly turned to you, “It’s for you,” she said before going back to her bed.

You sighed, throwing your laptop to the side and climbing off the bed, “Yea- oh hi Harrison,” you greeted upon seeing him, “How’d you get up here?”

He shook his head, “Got a friend to sign me in- look-“

”Is this about next week’s auditions?” You asked, cutting him off. Harrison was a usual in the audition room, and he had made it into a couple of your projects, “Because everything is posted in Webson Hall-“

”No, this is about Tom,” he rushed out, over you.

”Tom?” You pouted, “Then I’m not interested, see ya,” you were about to close the door when Harrison stopped it, “Whaaaat?” You groaned.

“The two of you need to talk, he’s been nothing but whining and complaining for the last week and I’m starting to lose patience with him.”

You rolled your eyes, “Why? I thought and I quote ‘I was overbearing and bitchy’.”

He scoffed, “He was obviously talking out of his ass. He’s crazy about you.”

”Not crazy enough apparently.”

”(Y/N) I’m serious. Just talk to him, you’ll see how much he misses you.”

”And if I don’t?” You quirked an eyebrow.

”Then I’ll,” he paused, “I’ll um-“

You laughed, “You’ve got nothing. See you at auditions,” you waved, before shutting the door on him.

Harrison sighed and leaned his head against your door.

And then suddenly and idea struck him.

”That’s it.”

With that, he was running down the hall back to his frat house.

~~~~~~~

You stretched in your seat. Audition day had finally showed up.

Honestly you were never a huge fan of watching a million auditions every time (your work had been getting more and more popular around campus, so auditions tended to be a pretty big turn out). A lot of the time they were mentally exhausting, you’d be surprised by the amount of actors that chose dramatic monologues over comedic.

But now you were already 15 auditions in with 5 more to go, and you were pretty sure you already had your cast now but you still needed to see the others.

“Alright, send them in!” Alyssa shouted, to Eric who had been letting in the actors.

Alyssa and Eric were always crew members on your projects and usually helped you decide cast members.

You had been scribbling something down when the next actor stood by the chair that was provided for each audition in front of you two.

”Go ahead,” Alyssa said, and you finally looked up.

Your eyes widened.

What the fuck?

“Tom, what the hell are you doing here?” You asked in annoyance, shaking your head.

He stared at you like a deer in the headlights, “Um... auditioning?”

”Did Harrison put you up to this?”

”...Maybe?”

You rolled your eyes again, “Whatever, you can leave.”

”No,” he stated more firmly, “I want to audition.”

You looked over at Alyssa who just shrugged her shoulders.

”Fine,” you said with a wave of your hand, “Go ahead.”

He cleared his voice, “My name is Tom Holland and I will be performing a monologue that I wrote. I will be reading for the character uh- Tim who is apologizing to his ex-girlfriend for something stupid he did.”

”Oh my god,” you hissed, sinking into your seat, already cringing.

He cleared his throat again, “Okay look, you know I’m bad with words so I’m just gonna come out and say it. I fucked up... but you already know that. For years I’ve been living in this bubble where I had my own views on dating and now I realize how warped they really are. I don’t know how to be a good boyfriend— and there’s a really good chance I’ll have trouble figuring it out, but.... what I do know, is that if you decide to take me back I will try my fucking hardest to be the best goddamn boyfriend you will ever have, even if that means I have to drop my asshole friends— who really were never that great so I don’t know why I ever chose them over you. But I like you so fucking much and that’s something that has never ever happened for me, so it kills me every single day knowing I screwed up a relationship with the only girl I ever really liked. You are one of the most talented and passionate people I have ever met, and I think you are absolutely gorgeous inside and out. So it would mean the world to me if you even as much as considered taking me back, and if you do, I promise I will do everything I can to make you happy. And if it means anything, I wasn’t lying when I said I never cheated on you and even after we broke up I couldn’t even think about another girl, also...... I don’t think you’re overbearing or bitchy.”

Silence filled the room before you spoke, “Y’know, with these auditions you’re usually expected to act.”

”Yeah I was wondering if you were gonna catch that,” he tried to joke, but kept bouncing on the balls of his feet, showing how nervous he was.

You ran a hand through your hair and sighed.

You figured if he was this willing to do something as silly as this, that maybe he really was willing to change.

You placed your clipboard aside and stood up. You walked over to him until you stood right in front of him.

”You gonna start answering my texts?”

His eyes immediately lit up, “Yes! Yes, of course.”

”You really gonna stop hanging out with those jerks? Except for Harrison, he’s the only one I like.”

”Yeah, he’s honestly the only one I like too.”

You nodded, “Then, can we go to that movie we planned a couple weeks ago?”

He grinned so big, you were sure it probably hurt, but you weren’t able to fight the smile off your face either.

Tom suddenly pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you, “Of course darling, anything for you.”

You hugged him back tightly, “Good. Then stay here for the rest of the auditions.”

”Alright,” he agreed, pulling back. “By the way... did you really sleep with Aaron?”

You shook your head, “Nah, I paid him to hide in his room for a half hour to make everyone think I did.”

“Sneaky,” He laughed, shaking his head at you, “But thank god, because from here on out, you’re mine.”

——————————————

Permanent Taglist:

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moneypedia · 3 years

Link

By Drew Shepherd

“You’re so judgmental!!!”

That’s the response I get when I delve a little too deep into my analytical side.

I’m somewhat of a perfectionist myself, so it’s no surprise that I hold others to my own lofty standards. And that’s one of many flaws I’m still working on.

There are certain times, however, when I’m unapologetic in my ways. And as you can see by the title of this article, this is one of those times.

The ability to screen out promiscuous women is one of the most valuable skills any man can have. It keeps you from wasting precious resources on a girl who couldn’t care less about you, and it protects you from being yet another clueless man in the dark.

A girl who sleeps around is never a good choice for your investment. And no matter what our culture tries to prove, the truth is that past sexual experience will always affect future relationships for the worse.

That’s why I created this list of 15 red flags to look for when you evaluate a potential partner.

This list is by no means exhaustive, and I’m sure there are plenty more signs you should be aware of too. But this one is intended to be a relatively quick check, and I’ve tried to limit it to signs you can notice within a few weeks at the most, or that you can easily find out with a scan of her social media.

Now I’m sure both you and I will catch some flak here for being “judgmental”, but remember, it’s not wrong to look out for your own interests. And in order to protect those interests, you need to discern the character of the people closest to you.

Being judgmental is assuming people’s character based on qualities outside their control. Discernment is deducing their character based on info they freely provide.

Only a fool would need a DNA test on an apple tree to confirm what it is…

Smart people just look at the fruit.

The 15 Red Flags Every Man Should Know

#1 She can’t stay at home. / She’s a party girl.

What it means: She needs excitement.

If she can’t enjoy a quiet night at home, walk away.

These kind of girls seem fun and interesting at first, but their lifestyle gets old fast. Plus there’s no telling how many intoxicated guys have taken their shot at her.

So find a girl who would rather read a book, watch a TV show, work out at home, cook a new meal, or talk to her friends on the phone.

“But that doesn’t sound like fun…”

No, most guys would say it doesn’t. But you know what’s more important than fun in relationships?

Stability.

A girl who runs out of her place every night has a need for excitement. And that need will find a way to bite you.

Sure, everything will be great when you’re both in a good mood, but what happens when she gets bored, or worse, when she’s unhappy?

If she needed excitement before she met you she will need it afterwards. And those thrills won’t be limited to a few drinks with the girls.

Most people are plenty fun when you get to know them anyway. So instead of worrying about that, ask yourself some more important questions:

Will she be there during a rough patch in your life?

Will she say “no” when a bigger fish comes along?

Does she avoid situations where she’ll be unnecessarily tempted?

Those are the questions you want answered (indirectly of course—actions speak louder than words).

Work on all those first. Then you can talk about fun.

#2 She has too many male friends.

What it means: She’s addicted to male attention.

Notice I said friends here and not acquaintances.

There’s nothing wrong with a woman having a conversation with a man. And if you do have a problem with that, you’re too possessive. A woman making small talk with her male coworker isn’t cause for concern.

But if she has close relationships to other guys, and she consistently talks to them about personal issues, that’s when you should be worried.

The true number of platonic male-female relationships is very small, and most of them only exist due to special circumstances.

But for the most part, men and women do not just become friends.

The truth is that the two sexes are equal, but different. And it’s tough for us to form close bonds outside of a romantic or sexual relationship.

Any girl who has tons of guy friends is bad news because almost all of them are attracted to her. And since she hasn’t made an effort to turn them down, it means she’s addicted to their attention.

If you don’t meet the requirements of such a popular girl, she’ll eagerly pick a replacement from her pool of waiting “friends”.

#3 She has tattoos or piercings on interior body parts.

What it means: She’s impulsive.

I’ve never been a fan of tattoos, so I wouldn’t look for a significant other who has any. But this red flag is more about the positioning of the ones she has.

If a girl has tattoos or piercings on any interior body parts (i.e. her upper thighs, torso, etc.), it is not a good sign. And here are only a few reasons why:

Someone had to put it there

People don’t get tattoos to cover them up

She makes long-term decisions based on short-term results

It’s just a terrible choice all around. Why would you taint the natural beauty you have with a man-made distraction?

It doesn’t make sense to me.

But in a way, I guess you should be happy when you see a girl like this. She’s made your job easy by effectively saying, “Don’t take me serious.”

#4 She’s a (moderate to heavy) drinker. / She does recreational drugs.

What it means: She allows unnecessary temptation.

Contrary to popular belief, human beings are not inherently good. And when given the choice, we will always be inclined to do what’s morally wrong.

Many times our conscious thought overrides this inclination, but whenever alcohol or drugs are involved, that inhibition goes out the window.

The point here is related to the first red flag about party girls—she allows herself to be tempted. And why would you ever trust a girl who intentionally lowers her self-control?

You are playing with fire and you know it.

Yes, crimes like theft will always be wrong, but we all have a responsibility to lock our doors.

#5 She’s a man hater. / She tests you to see if you’re man enough.

What it means: She lacks healthy relationships with the men in her life.

“All men are blah blah blah…”

“Guys only care about blah blah blah…”

“Men don’t deserve blah blah blah blah blah…”

Yeah, it’s annoying.

Man haters are the worst. I understand that some of us really are terrible, but if every guy she meets is like that, take a look at the common denominator.

Yes, I’m tough on the opposite sex sometimes, but even I know that there are fantastic women out there.

You can’t let the good ones convince you that all girls are sweet and innocent, and you can’t let the bad ones blind you to the praiseworthy women either.

The same is true about our side.

So if a girl always complains about the men in her life, she’s either still bitter about a failed relationship, or she presents herself as an object for men to lust after.

#6 She can’t put her phone down. / She’s addicted to social media.

What it means: She craves attention and drama.

The online version of too many male friends.

A smart girl knows that male attention doesn’t result from her “amazing personality”.

The number of friends and likes she gets is directly proportional to how attractive people think she is.

This stuff is honestly common sense by now but you still see the same thing all the time. A fairly attractive girl only has to post a few pictures, and boom, she’s got 50 dudes trying to hit her up.

She probably won’t give any of them the time of day—unless one of them is like, so hot—but at least she got her daily attention fix. Plus she’s found a new group of reliable “friends” to support her.

It’s ridiculous. And don’t even get me started on the drama.

If she’s more interested in her phone than she is in you, don’t try to change her mind.

#7 She’s comfortable in revealing clothes. / She’s insensitive to male touch.

What it means: She’s used to it.

Do you really think she dresses that way for you?

Do you honestly believe it’s normal for guys to hug and hold her like it’s no big deal?

She’s used to it, man. And even if she isn’t promiscuous now, it won’t take much effort for her to get that way.

But going back to her style of dress, you might believe her choice of clothes doesn’t matter anymore. You think that times have changed, and this girl is different. So different in fact that she’s above all of human nature.

Yeah, keep believing that.

The reality is that men are visual creatures. And both men and women instinctively know that the way a women dresses determines the type of attention she gets.

Our society doesn’t like to acknowledge that fact nowadays, so we try to ignore it as best as we can.

Instead, we say she has high self esteem, that she deserves to show off her body. And if you don’t like it, you’re living in the past.

But please don’t buy the “I’m-proud-of-my-body-so-I-need-to-be-half-naked” excuse.

People who are comfortable with a fit body, or great wealth, or whatever else they have don’t feel the need to show it off. They rest assured in the knowledge that it’s there.

The only people who show off are the ones who need validation. And they always need it from multiple people.

So if any girl shows too much skin, or if she’s fine with being hugged or touched any kind of way, you need to reconsider.

#8 She believes that things just happen. / She follows her heart. / She’s in love with “love” and relationships.

What it means: She lacks emotional control.

These girls are tricky for inexperienced guys, so let me explain.

It feels great at first to be the focus of a girl’s undying love. And the highs of having a beautiful woman enraptured by you is something straight outta the movies.

But guess what?

You will never be the only one.

You just happen to be her drug of the month. And all it takes is a more attractive or manipulative man to change her loyalties.

That is the dark reality of girls who “follow their heart.”

So instead of chasing a girl who’s crazy….about you, find a girl who tempers her heart with her head.

Don’t be afraid of love. Just make sure it’s the real thing first.

#9 She uses profanity.

What it means: She doesn’t value purity.

I don’t like profanity.

Sure, I went through a phase where it was cool to sprinkle in some “sentence enhancers”, but even then it still felt wrong.

Pure speech is something I value now, and it really does bother me to hear people—male or female—casually drop f-bombs. I don’t give them a stare or anything, but I know that profanity usually indicates that something is off in your life.

That’s one reason why I never use profanity on this site. Out of all the posts on HFE, I haven’t used a single curse word, and I plan to keep it that way.

But getting back to the meaning of this red flag, it just shows a lack of class.

If a girl doesn’t have the decency to control something as simple as her conversation, think about how ugly the rest of her lifestyle is.

#10 She’s friends with known promiscuous women. / She takes an interest in promiscuous celebrities.

What it means: She won’t be shamed for sleeping around, and she will probably be encouraged to do so.

Men compartmentalize their friends.

Of course not every guy is the same, but usually he’ll have his videogame pals, his college study group, his boys from work, his basketball squad, his fantasy football crew, and so on.

And what’s funny about all these friend buckets is that they usually include men from all walks of life.

You’ll have a mix of low income guys, wealthy guys, smart guys, dumb guys, you get the point. But as long as they all have that one thing in common, they don’t really care about much else.

Women are different.

Almost every girl I know has friends who are very similar to her. Everything from the way they dress, to the grades they get, to the income they earn, to the guys they like, and even their political stance—it’s almost always the same.

While men care more about the one activity they have in common, women focus more on similar lifestyles.

And now you see where I’m going.

You may not be able to tell if she sleeps around, but if you know her friends do, it’s a giant red flag.

Even if this girl is completely innocent, she knows her friends won’t look down on her if she does indulge, and that’s why she’s surrounded herself with them.

It’s even worse if she takes an interest in promiscuous celebrities. They’re just like her friends who get around but with additional influence and social status.

If [blank] can do [blank] and still be [blank], why can’t she?

#11 She uses New Age lingo. / She’s into horoscopes.

What it means: She won’t take responsibility for her actions.

If you meet a girl who always goes on about people’s “energy”, the workings of karma, or the meaning behind her horoscope, you need to run and run quickly.

I have numerous reasons why I wouldn’t get with a girl like this, but one of the more practical ones is that she won’t take responsibility for anything.

The stars are what drive her behavior, and she will be justified in spiting you because her negative-energy-sense was tingling.

It’s bad enough dealing with people who can’t control their impulses, but if she truly believes that “the universe” is causing her actions, avoid her at all costs.

#12 She has no discernible skills outside of her physical appearance.

What it means: She’s going down the wrong career path.

Everyone needs money. And if that need is not met, people will resort to all kinds of evil to meet it.

If this particular girl doesn’t have any marketable skills outside of being “hot”, she is going down the wrong road.

Eventually she will…

A. Find some way to make money off her appearance

B. Get bailed out by another man, or…

C. Be left in a financial hole when her beauty fades

Now you could argue that A wouldn’t be too bad of a scenario depending on the work involved (e.g. innocent modeling), but none of these are favorable to her developing a solid set of skills when she had the chance.

Not only has she put herself in a position where her beauty can be abused, but she’s also shown that she’s fine with being a drain on people’s resources.

That’s not good.

Everyone needs a strong work ethic, no matter who they are. And if she doesn’t have one, she’ll be pressured into compromising situations.

#13 She rushes the relationship. / She’s a little too perfect. / She tries too hard to seem like a good match.

What it means: She’s overcompensating.

Another tricky one here.

The average guy won’t deal with many girls like this, but the name of this site isn’t Hunger for Average, so you need to look out for this one.

As you start to care more about your appearance and get your life in order, you’ll notice that girls will seemingly come out of nowhere. And the ones you were invisible to before will make it obvious that they’re interested.

Sounds great right?

But the problem is that some of these girls won’t have the best intentions.

Almost every semi-attractive girl has been treated like a princess her whole life (and that’s one reason why a man who’s trained himself to be immune to beauty is so attractive to them).

But the side effect of this treatment is that many women expect partiality from every guy they meet. So now when they see you—a man who’s in good shape and has his life together—they don’t see a person, but rather, a tool who has the means to carry “her highness” through life.

This is particularly an issue with a girl in her late 20’s or early 30’s. Her internal clock is ticking and she knows she has to find a man before her beauty fades.

But you can’t let her clock dictate your life.

People get burned all the time by making hasty choices. And it’s a known manipulation tactic to rush people into big decisions.

Yes, there will be girls who genuinely like you, and they’ll be eager to start something special together. But you need to be aware of the other scenario too.

Beauty doesn’t get ignored. And if an attractive girl hasn’t locked down a man by this time in her life, it’s very possible that she used her beauty for other means when she was younger, and now she’s scrambling to find a man who doesn’t know any better.

Of course this isn’t always the case. Breakups happen and some people just have an unfortunate streak with relationships. But barring any significant change to her appearance, and without any other special cause, the former is a real possibility.

Remember that your interests are important too. And you are not obligated to take any dude’s leftovers simply because she needs a man now.

“But she’s changed! She’s not like that anymore! And she’s committed to doing better!”

That’s great. And I applaud her. But that doesn’t mean you owe her a relationship.

I’m all for acceptance and forgiveness, but I also know that forgiveness isn’t the removal of all consequences.

#14 She accuses you of being promiscuous, or worse, tries to prove you are.

What it means: She’s telling you how she would act if she was in your position (a.k.a. projection).

A girl who makes accusations like this doesn’t understand how any decent looking person could say no to their suitors. Especially since she could never hope to do the same.

You’re just a stupid boy who couldn’t possibly deny easy pleasure, and it’s her job to prove that assumption right.

It’s all so silly.

I’ve dealt with girls who tried to find faults that weren’t there and I had a real good laugh afterwards.

But while it is funny that a former acne-faced, overweight, emo guy would have to convince anyone he’s not about that life, I am very serious about guarding my integrity.

So if any girl accuses me of something like this, I know we need to part ways.

#15 Your gut tells you so.

What it means: You’re not comfortable with her.

Attraction is weird.

The first time anyone sees a person they like, comfort is nowhere to be found. There’s excitement, there’s anxiety, and there’s interest—not comfort.

But that all changes as time goes by.

The more you get to know someone, the more comfortable you feel around them.

The guy you thought was an antisocial creep just happens to be the life of the party. The girl you thought was such a snob before is actually kind and warm-hearted. And this new familiarity generally leads to more comfort.

But if time passes and you still don’t feel comfortable around this girl, it’s a bad sign. Your body is subconsciously telling you that something about her is off. And you know deep down that you can’t trust her.

“But didn’t you just make fun of girls and their ‘negative-energy-sense’? So how is it okay for guys to do the same thing?”

Because what I’m talking about here isn’t just a feeling. What I’m describing are physiological changes that happen solely because of this person.

Yes, it sounds far-fetched, but if you are fine around every person except her, something is wrong. And I’m not talking about a few butterflies in the stomach here.

If you start breaking a sweat when she shows up, if your sleep schedule suddenly changes, and if you’re always on your toes around her, your body is in alert mode. And instead of being able to work, or perfect your craft, or do anything else, you will constantly be thinking about her.

But again, don’t confuse this with some middle school crush obsession. This is about a girl who won’t give you any assurance that she is committed to you.

You will have to do everything to keep the relationship afloat, and that always leads to disaster. The minute you fall short in her eyes your worst fear will come true.

Of course you still want to be as attractive as possible to make her decision easy, but if the success of the relationship depends solely on you, find someone else.

Good leaders set an example for others and create a vision for the future…

They don’t do all the work.

Successful relationships will always take effort, but if you can’t relax at all with her, it’s a bad sign.

Weed ‘Em Out

So if you read this whole post, you’ve probably noticed a theme here.

All of these are signs that stem from a lack of one character trait:

Self-control.

This list is all about discerning if a girl has that one critical trait.

If she doesn’t have it, don’t try to change her, don’t make excuses for her, and please don’t waste time thinking about her. Just walk away.

And if you have a hard time doing that, ask yourself if you would help a man who acted the same way.

Sure, this may all seem cold-blooded, but when the stakes are this high, it’s always better to be safe than sorry. There is simply too much at risk when you choose a long term partner. And if you can’t trust someone you’ll eventually think about marrying, you need to end it as soon as possible.

No amount of beauty is worth the headache and embarrassment. If a woman’s actions show that she doesn’t respect you, move on and find a girl who does.

Just remember that nothing here is foolproof either. Some girls are crafty and they won’t show many of the signs listed here—but that’s okay.

The point isn’t to catch every girl who’s like this. The point is to save time by weeding out the easy ones. And once you do that, you’ll be closer to finding a girl who’s worth the investment.

So be smart, stay strong, and have a little fun too. It’s easy to get too serious about things like this, but keep a good attitude and you’ll be fine.

If you know what all to avoid, just imagine how much you can cherish a keeper.

-Drew

#relationships

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boymeetsweevil · 5 years

Text

Breathe you in

Grouping: Popstar!Reader x Non-Idol!Taehyung

Word Count: ~7.8k

Warnings/Themes: Shotgunning (so thats recreational drug use), Rough face fucking, face-sitting (fm receiving), some background angst, not too scary lol

Summary: Can I pls request an ex lovers trope with taehyung where you broke up with him , but he shows you he loves you and was never over you and wants to be together again? Thanks!

A/N: This is part of the BTS Smut Club Anniversary fic exchange! Thanks for the prompt!

It’s nearing 10pm when the town car arrives in front of your apartment complex. The driver pulls up in the back entrance used primarily for allowing the higher profile residents to discreetly enter the building when needed. Normally the back entrance is littered with snapping cameras or fans who are trying their hand at stalking. Tonight none of those people are there for you because your mini-tour ended a day early, allowing you to return from Amsterdam a day before what’s scheduled on your website.

“Don’t forget,” your publicist sits across from you on the opposite leather upholstered bench of the car, “You’re close to reaching another follower milestone, so you need to do one last Instagram live before bed.” You release a deep sigh that sounds like it came from your bones.

“Shit. Bee, I’m really tired.”

“Language,” Bee admonishes while scrolling one iPhone in one hand before switching to the one in her other hand.

“Can’t it fucking wait,” you hiss, petty from exhaustion.

She pins you with a look that tells you she’s not playing this game with you and continues typing away. “You’ll sleep soon enough once we go through the checklist for today and tomorrow.”

Bee’s phone pings and you watch the set of her mouth grow infinitely more tense before her eyes dart to you. Rarely does hesitation temper her gaze like it does in this moment. You let out a sigh. She’s about to mention your ex.

“Also, Oh! News wants to bring you in some time this week to address statements Nick made about the breakup.”

“Of course they do,” you sigh again.

“I’ve been trying to push the date back but they’re not taking no for an answer. Plus, it might be better to go out and put an end to it so it can become old news.”

You massage your temples. “Yeah, no, I’ll do it. I’ll do it.”

Bee watches the gears in your head turn as you think about the whirlwind that was the breakup. With your departure to Europe only a few days after the PG-13 video of him with another actress blew up, there was naturally a lot of speculation. Most of it hateful and directed at you, surprisingly enough. Having just starred in a movie aimed at 12-17 year olds, Nick seemingly had all of the world’s young girl population locked and loaded at you. Your relative silence while on tour for two months in the Netherlands only fueled the outrage.

“Alright, alright,” she opens the door on your side and pushes your purse into your limp arms. “I had them take your luggage up before you. Do what I told you and then...go get some sleep, Sweets.”

“Thanks, Bee.”

Your penthouse apartment is as pristine as you left it when you push open the door, your luggage waiting neatly by your shoe closet. While you unpack your bags in your bedroom, you take note of the outfit laid out for your on your bed. It’s a pair of leggings that have sequins sewn up the sides and a matching off the shoulder top that will definitely require you to keep your bra on. It’s for the Instagram broadcast, so you won’t have to wear it long. But you want to crawl out of your skin and finally be able to turn off your public figure voice more than anything else. You suppose you can handle waiting a little while longer, though.

When you’re dressed and have your hair out of your face, you take your phone with you to the bathroom before waking up your speaker to play some mood music. A little tripod setup waits for you on the sleek countertop. Once your phone is plugged in and you’ve pulled up Instagram, you begin your livestream and your camera smile is on.

“Hey, everybody,” you greet the viewers already watching.

There’s a little more than 800,000 people are currently watching, more than normal this early in a live video. You attribute it to the tweet Bee sent from your Twitter a few minutes prior that broke your 2 month long internet silence.

“I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long,” you talk a little louder over the music you have playing. “I was so busy in Amsterdam and when I did have some down time, I wanted to really unplug. So I didn’t use social media while I was there. I’ll definitely be uploading the pictures I took, though. I saw some really amazing stuff.”

You begin pumping an oil cleanser into the palms of your hands while stopping to read the comments as they come up on the screen. Some of them you ignore because they’re comments from Nick’s fan accounts. Others welcome you back and some are fans of the artist you were touring with.

“How was touring with Nana,” you echo the fan’s question while rubbing your makeup off. “She was so wonderful, oh my god. I think she’s got such a beautiful point of view when it comes to her lyrics about getting older and dealing with the pressures of being a woman in the spotlight. Also her fashion sense is incredible.”

A few more questions about the products you’re using and what you did on your off time come up. Some people ask if you’re working on a new album yourself and you talk about that as much as you can without breaking any promises, keeping the essentials a secret. Another person asks you to sing a few bars from your verse on the song you did with Nana and you do. By the time you’re tapping moisturizer onto your face, you’ve almost made it through the broadcast unscathed. But then you see a comment that has you breaking character for a second, your muscles freezing.

douknowbt$: OMG Nick is watching the live.

Hopefully no one notices your 2 seconds of panic, but you can’t be sure until someone else blogs about it. You dismiss the comment and finish up with a few pumps of hand cream, rubbing your hands a bit manically as the comments about Nick begin to grow in number. In that moment, you sign off and quickly move to end the live. But with your haste and slippery fingers, you don’t realize you missed the button and the recording was still going.

A few of the viewers try to send messages letting you know that the live hasn’t ended, but you don’t check your phone again after throwing it onto your covers and climbing into bed. With the camera facing up, you’re seen pulling up your laptop and putting on some classical music using the surround sound speakers in your bedroom. From the screen, all the viewers can see you sitting stiffly on your bed, eyes closed for a few minutes in what looks like meditation as the adagio that’s playing washed over you. After a few deep breaths, you open your eyes and reach for your phone.

“Oh sh—,” you keep yourself from cursing at the last second when you discover the livestream didn’t end. “I’m sorry, guys. I was so tired I guess I didn’t realize I forgot to end the video. I’m signing off for real now. Yes, yes, I’m okay. Just tired. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

You triple check to make sure the video is off before throwing your phone across the bed. The day didn’t seem like it could get worse after your long flight and even longer wait at the airport when it seemed like your luggage was lost. Not to mention that you were bone tired and hungry but couldn’t have any of the foods you were craving because of a stupid photo shoot coming up in a few weeks. In that moment, the intercom rings, signaling that the front desk is trying to reach you, but you remain in bed and hope that it’ll stop. It does, for a moment, before starting up again. You groan before getting up and heading to the front door.

“Yes?”

“Hello Miss,” says the cheerful older man who runs the front desk during nights. “I trust you’re having a delightful evening.”

“Hello, Sir.”

“We just wanted to alert you that the delivery person with your order is currently on the 15th floor and should be at your suite shortly. Please anticipate your food’s arrival in the next few minutes and have a pleasant rest of the evening.” The call ends just like that, not leaving you any room to protest and say that you didn’t order food.

You figure it’s just that Bee saw what a huge shitshow your livestream was and she wants to send you something to make you feel better. And no doubt if it was something that came with a delivery person, it was good food. If she came herself, she would definitely have brought something like a salad bowl or a sushi plate. If you eat another vegetarian sushi plate, you're certain you'll die. Not from Mercury poisoning—like your mother always warns you about—but from sadness.

A tentative knock on the door sounds and you open it with a plasticky smile. Sometimes they send people who get a little star struck. Most times you’re amenable to just being subdued but friendly so that they just ask for a selfie or a quick autograph on a take out napkin and don't try to linger or say you were a bitch later on.

Tonight you're not really in the mood for too much friendliness tonight, though. In the drawer next to the door, you dig around for the wad of cash you keep hidden there and pull an obscene tip out.

“Hi, thank you,” you keep your head down and blindly reach for the white paper bag in the person's hand. “Have a good—excuse me, asshole!”

“That’s not my name.”

The hand yanks the bag out of your reach at the last second, lifting high above your head. You’re not at all in the mood for dealing with a pissy delivery boy who wants to knock you down a few pegs. Putting your hands on your hips, you’re about to give him the verbal lashing he deserves, PR consequences be damned, when you a good look at his face stops you.

“Taehyung?”

“In the flesh,” he shoots back at you.

The man in front of you gives you a muted, smug smile before shouldering his way past you and into your apartment. He stands tall in the foyer of your apartment like he belongs there and has been there a thousand times. You can’t help but drink in the image of your ex-boyfriend from half a decade ago despite the fact that he’s technically intruding. There’s still a whisper of the boy you started dating when you were in your last year of high school, but much of that is overpowered by the man he is now. He’s broader in the jaw and the shoulders than he was before, and there must have been some growth spurts since you last saw him.

“This is real nice,” he lets out a low whistle as he takes in the large open floor-plan of your apartment. You follow closely behind as he starts walking around, head cocked forward with purpose.

“What are you looking for?”

“The kitchen,” he says casually.

“It’s that way,” you gesture before realizing that you need to get your priorities straight. “What are you doing in my house?”

“I came to bring you food.”

The bag he raises gives off a pleasant savory smell and you clench your fist to keep yourself from excusing his sudden appearance.

“I didn’t ask for food. And I certainly didn’t ask you for food.”

“Touchy,” he turns back to pin you with an amused grin. “But you didn’t have to ask. I knew you needed it.”

“You knew I needed it?” You raise an incredulous eyebrow, eager to hear his explanation. “How did you know I needed it?”

He places the bag on the countertop in your kitchen, standing on the opposite side of the counter.

“Because,” he sighs, “I saw your Instagram live and you were playing Elgar. You never play Elgar unless something’s really wrong.”

“I—that’s,” he pushes the bag toward you while you try to come up with a reason while he’s wrong, when he’s not.

You’ve had a habit of playing classical music when you were near your breaking point. It’s been a habit that you’ve had since you were 10, but concealed long before you started your time in the spotlight. While you were dating Taehyung, you were a depressed teenager and he was present for some of the worst times of your life. Several times he’d found you in your room or your parents’ car blasting tragic symphonies as accompaniment for bawling your eyes out. But that was years ago.

“You can eat it. I’m not hungry,” you finally say. He looks at you like he can tell you’re lying, but plays along and shrugs.

“Fine.” He opens the bag and pulls out some smaller plastic containers of food and a spoon.

“I didn’t mean here!”

He chuckles at your outburst, mumbling something about fame not changing you, before ambling out of the kitchen and through the rooms until he arrives at your bedroom. You find him about to sit on your bed and rush over.

“If you took the subway here, don’t even think about sitting on that bed.”

“What? Suddenly my subway clothes are too dirty for your bed?”

“Yes,” you huff. “The sheets alone cost me more than half a grand.”

“What the hell,” he jumps up like he’s been shocked. “Why would you spend that much on sheets?”

“They’re highly rated,” you admit with a small voice. “And they’re used by many foreign diplomats.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re so prissy.”

“We can’t all be members of a practical startup.” When his eyes widen in surprise, you curse yourself for letting him know you still keep tabs on him. “Besides. You used to like prissy.”

“Still do,” he gives you with a molten look that has you moving away from him and fluffing pillows to hide your flustered state.

“Why are you still here?”

“Because you’re hurting.”

“Maybe,” you throw your hands up. “But that’s not your job anymore.”

He runs a hand through his dark hair, parting the shiny waves carelessly. He’s not sure how to admit that he’s been making sure fame doesn’t eat you alive ever since you broke up with him to pursue your singing career. The memory of that day rings clear in his head even after five years of being split up.

Cliche as it sounds, it was a rainy night. You were at a meeting with Bee a few days before the entertainment label you were flirting with was going to give you the final version of your contract to sign.

Bee was never a huge fan of his, so Taehyung waited outside her office instead of interrupting the meeting to let you know he was there. But with the office door cracked, he could still hear the sounds of your conversation and the soft sounds of your sobs.

His blood grew cold when he heard what Bee was telling you. She told you starting this career with a relationship would hurt your numbers by making it impossible for your male fanbase to project their fantasies onto you because of the presence of another guy in your life. She told you if you were going to make it, you’d need to play up the role of sexy girlfriend to the audience members for the first album at least and that wouldn’t be possible if they got wind of Taehyung.

He covered his own mouth, barely fighting tears from welling up, listening as you tried to plead with Bee. Your voice was watery as you tried to convince her that you could make it without the girlfriend role. That you had enough work ethic and talent to do it. And when she didn’t budge, you said that you loved him and threatened to walk out right then if you had to break up with him. He listened to Bee tell you that you were being naive and that you’d be stupid to throw away all your opportunities for a boy.

And Bee was right.

So when you came outside minutes later with puffy eyes and a white knuckled grip on the sleeves of your sweater, he’d accepted his fate. He’d even accepted the lie you told him about having another guy on the side. Though you couldn’t produce a name when he asked who it was. Though you looked up at him like you wanted to take it all back. Though you leaned your forehead on his chest like you were in the greatest amount of pain. He accepted it all and walked away.

That is, if walking away meant that he created fake social media accounts so he could comment positive things on your first few interview videos and bought tickets to as many concerts he could when you were in the area. He never tried to make his presence known, just stood there and drank in how vibrant you looked when you were on stage and singing your heart out. It took a while for the jealousy to stop rearing its ugly head whenever he looked at how other people would show their adoration for you. By the time Nick came around, he was convinced he was content with how things were. But after seeing the way Nick’s cheating affected you, he had a hard time sitting still.

“Well, I’m not leaving until you feel better. So, you better start talking.”

“What is there to even say?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

You sigh and ignore him in favor of walking over to the large sofa in the corner of your room and collapsing on the large sofa face first. A dip in the cushions near you tells you he’s followed you and sat down. When you finally reveal your face, he’s peering down at you with a sad look in his eyes. The sad, sympathetic look that would always get you spilling your guts when you were still together. So you tell him everything.

It's almost embarrassing to tell him that you thought you loved Nick. At their best, things with Nick were comfortable and sometimes passionate, but it wasn’t anything close to love. Nothing close to what you had with Taehyung. And how could it have been when the reason you got together in the first place was because Bee thought you could ‘scratch each other’s backs’? Nick was not only handsome with the clean image Bee wanted for you, but you were writing and singing the theme song for the blockbuster movie he was to star in. It all seemed to work at first.

It only took one tabloid story suggesting that he was seeing some other younger and bustier actress behind your back to make you see that nothing you had with him was substantial. You brought the story up as a joke, thinking you could laugh about the way tabloids would do anything for story—even lie. As soon as you mentioned it to him, he denied it hastily and made a snide comment about not believing everything you see just because it’s technically press. After that, it was like a switch had been flipped and suddenly you couldn’t be in the same room together for more than 10 minutes without going at each other’s throats. The cheating rumors kept flaring up until they reached a peak a little more than 2 months ago, when someone anonymously submitted a video of him groping and kissing the same actress outside of a bakery in your hometown in broad daylight.

After watching the video about 15 times on the plane to Amsterdam, you concluded that even though he had long since established himself as a grade-A asshole in your mind, he was in mushy-love with this girl. You could tell from the sweet way he cradled her face while kissing her and how he took the extra step to block any potential cameras before giving her impressive rack a squeeze. Lucky for you, the video didn’t really evoke any messy emotions like jealousy. Instead there was just some satisfaction at having your suspicions confirmed and knowing he’d have to clean up this mess. You felt bad for the other actress, though. She was just starting out with mainly B movie roles and there was no telling whether the public would fillet her or ignore her altogether.

Taehyung has to sit on his hands to keep from rubbing your back you as you pour out all the things that had been stressing you out. What startles him is how stoic you are the whole time. When he first met you, you cried at the drop of a hat. It was endearing back then, but there’s no trace of it now. You sniffle a little when you talk about some of the vicious hate mail you received while in Amsterdam, but besides the shining eyes, that’s it. He clenches his jaw and wonders what you must have gone through in the last five years to have lost that quality.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles when the lull in the conversation is longer than he expected.

“It’s fine, I just,” you sniff again, wipe your eyes carefully. “I was really hoping that once the dating clause in my contract expired, things wouldn’t blow up in my face like this. And now I can’t go anywhere without people shoving mentions of Nick in my face. I just—it sucks. I just want to do what I want and I thought I’d earned that right but I guess not.”

“I don’t know. I think you’ve earned it. You’re grammy nominated this year, and you visited 13 countries this year alone.”

“What are you? President of my fan club?”

“Do I look like a 14 year old girl to you?”

You squint like you’re giving it some thought and he squawks.

“I’m just kidding,” you duck your head. “You’re, what, 226?” He laughs at the extra two centuries you’ve tacked on.

“You remember my birthday,” he smiles widely.

“Of course I do.” The way he looks at you makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up so you change the subject. “Alright. I’ve done enough talking. Where’s my compensation?”

“You literally haven’t changed at all,” he says while fishing in the pockets of his dark wash denim jacket. It takes a few seconds and he has to pull a few balled up receipts and earphones out of the pockets but he eventually pulls out a fat blunt and brandishes it like a huge check.

Nose wrinkling, you push his hand out of your face. “Weed?”

“Yeah! You said you wanted a pick-me-up, right? And I just got this yesterday from a dispensary. This is the good, strong shit. Probably could compete with the stuff they have in Amsterdam.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be able to tell.”

“Huh,” he furrows his brow while hunting for a lighter.

“I’ve never smoked so I wouldn’t know.”

“You mean you were in Amsterdam and you didn’t even try to smoke?”

“It’s bad for my voice,” you whine at his judgmental glare.

“Bullshit.”

“It smells like armpit,” you try again.

“There’s the prissy princess. Well, you should know that the only stuff that smells like that is the shit broke evil dealers peddle to broke college students.”

You roll your eyes, but sit up on your heels so you can pay closer attention. Taehyung flicks his lighter to life and lights up the end of the blunt. He takes a deep inhale before letting out a thick cloud of smoke. He gestures for you to take it, but you shake your head nervously.

“What’s the matter now?”

“I don’t know how to do it. What if I burn my lips?”

He squints at you, wondering how you can be such a baby. “The cherry’s not even on the side you put your mouth on.”

“Whatever! I’m still scared.”

“Do you want to try it, though?”

You gnaw at your lip thoughtfully and decide that you need to take your mind off everything for a while. “Y-yeah, I guess. I don’t have a studio session tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He scoots forward on the couch until your knees are just barely brushing. “I’ll shotgun it to you.”

“What’s that?”

“You’ll see.”

He takes another drag, this time a little smaller, and holds the smoke in his mouth. Turning to you, he leans in until you can feel his bangs brush your forehead as he tilts his head to get the angle right. There’s about an inch of space between your mouths when he starts to let the smoke billow out of his mouth. You get the gist and try to inhale it as best as possible, but you’re new to it and he’s too far away for you to get the smoke.

“I’m not getting any,” your tone is petulant as the smoke floats up around your face.

Taehyung, on the other hand, is already feeling the effects of the strong blend he bought. He scoots forward once more and then turns to the side so he can take another drag. This next time, he grabs your jaw and brings you forward to meet him. Thumbing at your bottom lip, he coaxes your mouth open and slack before slotting his lips over yours. You feel the brush of the supple skin of his lips and it distracts you a bit, but this time you do manage to inhale most of the fumes. Your eyes drop closed as you hold the smoke in for as long as possible before letting your breath out.

“How was that,” Taehyung asks lowly. His lids have drooped to match his relaxed state. With the high slowly creeping over him, he ogles you unabashedly.

“It was okay. Do it again.”

He nods and quickly burns through the rest of the blunt, giving you the larger hits when he shotguns to you and taking slightly smaller drags for himself. To keep you nearby, his hand comes to rest heavily on the small of your back. You, still on your haunches, somehow end up straddling one of his thighs to stay close. Near the end of the blunt, you’re feeling a bit floaty and like the heat from the blunt transferred to your belly. Taehyung’s gaze feels tangible on you, like a firm-handed caress across all parts of you as he looks you over. Like smoke on your skin. You recognize the feeling as one you haven’t felt in a while and move to sit more properly in his lap.

“I want the last one,” you whisper while tugging on the collar of his jacket. The ends of his long hair tickle your fingers.

He nods and moves slowly to suck the roach dry. Once he’s close enough, you wait patiently. His nose grazes your cheek for a few long seconds before he finally turns to pass the smoke to you. You take it obediently and exhale but then grab him by the lapels to press your lips to his. His hands come up immediately to cup your face and pull you closer. You work your lips over his, drawing low groans from him as your tongue teases his.

“You smell good,” he says groggily between kisses.

“Thanks,” you roll your eyes.

His eyes flutter shut when you begin to press kisses to the column of his throat, your hands moving to unbutton the dress shirt he’s wearing underneath. He tries his best to keep up with you, but he gets slow when he’s high. So he settles for you being in charge, but does let his hands roam over your body.

A lot has changed since he last felt you like this. The strict gym regimen you employ to compliment choreography for songs has given you an amazing ass that he thought could only gaze at in pictures. And he had done quite a lot of that. Though he’s not sure how you would feel if he confessed to jerking off to some of your sexier music videos. He marvels at the feel of you and you’re pleasantly surprised when his hands come down heavy on your hips to grind you down onto his lap. A pleased hum leaves you and you reward him with kisses migrating lower, across the path of his now exposed torso. You leave the couch to sit between his spread knees on the floor. The button of his jeans is your last major obstacle and you still your hands over the waistband patiently.

“You get where I’m going with this, right?”

He nods his head, tongue coming out unconsciously to wet his lips at he takes in the sight of you on your knees in front of him.

“Do want you want me to...” you trail off, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed at asking your ex if you could blow him.

“Do you? Want to?” His hand reaches out to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over you cheekbone.

“Yeah?”

“Then, yeah.”

You move quickly to unbutton his pants and slide them down his thighs once he lifts his butt to assist you. He’s wearing boxers, which is a relief because you don’t want his bare ass on your very expensive couch, and the crotch opening provides easy access. With one hand, you smooth the wrinkles in his boxers over, noting the tent in the fabric and the dark stain where his head must be dribbling pre-cum. Your mouth is watering as you pull him out and test his girth and weight in your hand. Just the sight of his dick in your hand makes you want to swallow him down.

Before he can say anything else, you’re wetting his shaft with broad licks from root to tip. He grits his teeth and lets out a satisfied grunt at the way it feels when you tongue at his slit. You take him in until you just barely wrap your lips around the head, and he lets out a low moan at finally being enveloped in the wet, silken heat of your mouth.

“Can you do me a favor,” he manages to ask you despite the fact that stars are forming in the corner of his vision when you take him against the inside of your cheek.

“Hmm,” you hum around him, causing his hips to jolt up the tiniest amount.

“Can you spit on it?”

You smile in a way that can only be described as predatory and pull him out of your mouth. You spit like he asks, letting some drool pool on him as well, while he moans again and his hand comes out to smooth over your hairline. He’s more vocal than you remember and it gets you wet quickly. Before you stain anything, you kick off your stupid bedazzled leggings so you can return them to Bee in the morning.

“Shit,” he hisses when you start bobbing your head to a fast and unforgiving rhythm. You’re playing with him, you want to wring an orgasm out of him, and he can sense this. “Why don’t we take this s-slow?”

You pull off briefly. “Tae, I want you to fuck my face. That’s not well-suited to slow.”

“Isn’t that bad for your voice,” he mimics your tone from earlier.

You give him a pinch on his thigh before taking him into your mouth again and resuming your ministrations. Since you’re so focused on getting what you want, he decides to try and level the playing field and keeps his hip movements to a minimum and opts to talk through the head instead. He’s determined to get some clarity with you

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes deeply through the feeling of your saliva starting to trickle over him. The slide is getting slicker as you continue, making him lose his train of thought briefly. “So much.”

Instead of replying back with words, you just give a little acknowledging noise that’s too neutral to be a dissenting or affirming noise. He takes it in stride and continues.

“I still think about you all the time. And I—fuck—I’ve tried to date other people, but it’s just never felt quite the same way. You were the only one who understood me so well and who didn’t try to change me.”

His words wash over you and a wave of fondness hits you in a way that has you almost shy. You haven’t been shy in a long while because you couldn’t afford to be in your line of work. People were always trying to capture parts of you, and a great deal of them were trying to capture the uglier sides. There was no room to actually fear that for the last five years of your life because it was inevitable to a certain degree. But as you work over Taehyung, his words make you feel stripped down. You feel bare and small despite the fact that his words have nothing but good in them really.

“If I’m being honest,” he says and you slow your rhythm to stare at him, wondering what he could have to confess. “You might be even further out of my league than when we first met.” You sigh and pull off of him.

“Tae, come on. Give yourself some slack.”

“No, I mean it,” he sits up slowly, tongue heavy with earnestness as he tries to talk through the high. “It seems like you’ve only become more comfortable with yourself since you started singing and the way you move—it’s like you’re from another planet.”

“Oh my god,” your cheeks heat up when he looks at you like you have a halo and wings. “Stop, you’re being so unnecessary right now.”

“I still love you,” he says. The words fall from his mouth like he’s been dying to say them. “And I know you didn’t cheat on me when we were younger.”

Your mouth drops open in shock. To this day you still regretted lying to him like that. But deep down you knew that there was something off about his reaction. He didn’t seem shocked or nearly disappointed as you thought someone might be when they hear they’re being left for another person. Instead, he had just nodded and insisted on driving you home until Bee had to come out and promise him that she’d do it herself. The fact that he didn’t block you on social media or try to drag your name through the mud immediately after your debut made you wonder if he saw through your lie.

“How did you know?”

“I came early to pick you up that day. And I heard Bee tell you what to say to me. How to break up with me.”

“Tae, I’m so—”

He shushes you with a tender kiss to the cheek that’s so soft you’re rendered momentarily speechless.

“I know. It’s not your fault, they didn’t give you a choice.”

“I would have picked you if I could,” you mumble into the space between you. His hands feel like anchors on either side of your face and you cling to them in the hopes that you won’t cry. “I really would have. You don’t know how much I missed you.”

“I feel the same way. It killed me to see you with that Nick asshole.”

You smirk a little at the mention of Nick. “Aw. Were you jealous, Tae?”

He looks down at you for a second, reading your face carefully, before dropping one hand down from your cheeks to the nape of your neck. The weight of it reads as possessive on your skin and you lean forward unconsciously until you’re able to smell the faintly sweet smell of smoke on his clothes.

“You’d like it if I was, right?” His gaze hardens, setting your heartbeat into a rabbit-quick pace. “Hmm? You like me being jealous of him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Answer me.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe I do,” you nuzzle into his neck to hide the excited smile splitting your lips.

“I knew it. It’s pretty on-brand for you.”

He nudges your bare thigh to signal you need to get up and so you do. You’re about to ask him what the hell ‘on brand’ means for you when he bends down to throw you over his shoulder with a low grunt.

“Tae, what the hell!”

Your raised voice gets you a harsh tweak to the perky globe of your ass and immediately quiets you down. He walks with you to the bed before throwing you down. Not rough enough to hurt but just rough enough to surprise you and give a doe-eyed look to your face. When you look up at him, his charade has fallen a bit, eyes returning to their original sleepy softness.

“Is this how you want it,” he asks you.

His voice is deep and gentle, and it evokes a different but equally visceral reaction. You nod and then shuffle over to the edge of the bed and sit at the edge of the mattress, waiting to see where he’ll take the situation. He smiles darkly at you once more before placing a hand on the back of your head to lead to his crotch.

His erection stands taller than it did before on the couch and he digs his fingers into your hair when you plant sweet kisses on the juncture where his thigh meets groin. You look sweet like this—playful, even—as you mouth along his length with kitten licks interspersed. When you’re about to take him into your mouth once more, he fists your hair and pulls you off him. With your head angled up to look into his eyes, you see a new emotion in them.

“Look,” he sighs. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do the whole thing.”

“What, like sex?”

“No, I mean you and me. I want to be with you. I’ve made my peace with what happened between us, but I know I still love you. So, I’m asking you to decide if you’re willing to do that, to be with me. Because I can’t—”

“Yes.”

“What?” His eyes grow wider and take on an awestruck quality. Like he’s not sure he wants to believe what he heard from you. “Really?”

“I want to try again,” you curl your hands around his hips. Bringing him forward into a hug around his pelvis, you lean your chin on his lower abdomen and try to infuse as much reassurance as you can into your smile.

“You won’t get in trouble with your agency?”

You shake your head and curl your arms around his hips, bringing him into an awkward hug as you lean your chin on his lower abdomen and look up at him. “Nick was an exception because he and I were arranged by our respective agencies, but my dating clause expired last year. I can date who I want. Within reason.”

He throws his head back with the realization that he’ll get a second chance with you. The hand he has on the back of your head softly caresses the skin of your neck.

“God, I love you,” he breathes with eyes drifting closed in contentedness.

“Good. Now can we get back to this? You were being fun earlier.”

“Yeah?” His tone turns gravelly and coy as he coaxes you back towards his dick. “Are you ready to choke?”

You can only nod as you take him in gradually, only for him to wait until you get halfway and push your head further down. You gag around him at the sudden pressure at the back of your throat, but shift your breathing through your nose to get a better handle on it. He pulls you by the hair until you’re at the tip again before slamming you back down, your nose nearly brushing the skin of his abdomen. You gag and the sound causes him to thicken in your mouth and a rush of arousal to trickle down into your panties.

“You feel so good around my cock,” he moans as he begins thrusting shallowly into your mouth. You can tell he’s close from how irregular the rhythm is. “Can you try to deep throat me?”

After you give an affirmative hum and relax your throat as best you can, he takes your face in both hands and starts to pull you up and down his length, going further each time until he knows he’s in your throat from the sudden tightness of you swallowing and the increase in gagging. Saliva is now dripping from your mouth, coating him and your chin, but you don’t care. Your eyes tear up at the burning sensation, but you can also feel your arousal trickle down your leg as he fucks your mouth more intensely. Right as you press two fingers to your clothed center for some relief, he gives you a tapped warning on your neck and his orgasm spills into your mouth.

He quickly pulls off his jacket and shirt, handing the latter to you to wipe your eyes and mouth with. Once your face is dry, he tucks himself back in and climbs around you into the bed. You turn to watch him fold back your blankets and throw the pillows you have all to the foot of the bed, leaving the space by the headboard. Taehyung then lies down, head where your pillows once were.

“Going to sleep already?” Your voice comes out in a sultry croak that has him laughing a little.

“No, I’m getting ready for you to sit on my face,” he says simply.

When you don’t budge, he sits up and pulls you by the arms toward him. You try to escape him, but his grip just tightens the more you protest.

“Tae, wait, I’m not—”

“You’re not what?”

“I’m not...presentable. Down there.” You avert your eyes as you explain to him that it's been a since you were last at a spa to get waxed. You figured since you weren’t seeing Nick anymore and you were mandated by your PR crew to wait at least 4 months after a breakup, there was no need to keep up with such a strict...landscaping routine. He rolls his eyes and moves to pull on the waistband of your panties to peek in and see what you mean, but you shove him away.

“Do you think I actually care?”

“Do you really not?”

“No? Unless you have some disease or infection, what’s the issue?”

“I’m clean,” you pout.

“Good,” he says before placing a kiss on your lips.

While you’re distracted by the kissing, he maneuvers you into straddling his waist before pulling back. Reluctantly, you shuffle up to hover over his ribcage and shyly grab the headboard. He huffs.

“You know I can’t reach you from there. It’s called sitting on someone’s face for a reason.”

He nudges your butt until the seat of your panties lines up with his jaw. He sees a few errant curls peeking out from the leg holes of your panties, so he uses a finger to push your underwear to the side to get a better look. What’s unsurprising is that it still looks like a vagina, though it had been a while since his last non-bald encounter. He doesn’t care, though, and cups your butt in his hands to move you the rest of the way.

The broad strip he licks up from your entrance to your clit takes you by surprise and because you were wound up so tight from a combination of nerves and horniness from blowing him, you let out a high keening sound. Taehyung chuckles beneath you before using his full lips to kiss at the apex of your thighs, sucking your clit into his mouth. The tip of his tongue scrubs figure eights against the bundle of nerve endings and has you squirming over him. More arousal leaks from you and he shifts to drink from you, humming and slurping obscenely. He then starts to lick at you in earnest, tracing strategic shapes across your lips and sucking with varying pressures and paces until you start rocking over him on your own accord.

“That’s my girl,” he praises you from below. “Now, ride my face,” he says before flattening his tongue and pressing up to meet your tentative grinding thrusts.

The combination of saliva and your arousal makes the glide smoother than you expected and it feels so good that one of your hands leaves the headboard to fist in his thick hair. He moans a little at the faint sting and wraps his hands around the backs of your thighs to press you against him harder. His tongue dips into your entrance occasionally, chasing the flavor of your arousal, trying not to let any of your juices go to waste. You bite your lip to trap the wanton moans trying to escape you, but Taehyung realizes what you’re doing and gives you another sharp swat to the bottom to coax them out, mumbling against the inside of your thigh not to hide from him anymore.

As you start to move more desperately above him, he attempts to fuck you more purposefully with his tongue. It’s just enough that in a dozen more swivels of your hips, you’re cumming all over his face, soaking his cheeks with a glistening varnish. You try to move as quickly as possible, but he stops you with a tight hold on your hips and licks you clean. You squirm away, partly because you’re sensitive and partly because he’s so enthusiastic about it that you’re a little bashful.

Finally he lets you get off him, but he doesn’t let you get too far. He follows you and almost makes it into the en suite with you, but you close the door at the last moment. You pee and clean up and when you come out, you feel like a weight has been lifted. Taehyung looks infinitely more sober lying in the middle of your bed in just his boxers, eyes bright and hair messy as he tries to figure out which remote will turn on your speakers.

You stand by the bed and watch him for a while. He turns to you innocently and holds the remotes in his two hands with confusion.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you approach your closet and take off your borrowed sweatshirt before looking for your favorite well-worn sweatsuit. “You’re just so pretty.”

“You’re prettier,” he shouts over to you. He can’t see you inside your closet, but you’re smiling like an idiot.

When you’re fully changed, you go to the bed and lean over him to kiss him. He still smells like you and you tell him so, to which he responds with a grin and subtly licking his lips.

“So when do you want me to tell the public about you?”

“Whenever you want,” he shrugs.

“Really? Because there’s a good chance you won’t be able to live your life the same way you have been once I do that.”

“Then it’ll just change. I would expect it to if you’re coming back into my life again.”

“Oh my god, you’re so—”, you’re at a loss for words.

You decide to crawl into his space and pepper kisses into his skin. He smells like a strange blend of you and him, but the smell is reassuring in some way unknown to you. You sit there for the rest of the night, breathing him in like smoke

#bscproject #bangtan bookclub #bttnetwork #95line.net #kimtaehyung.net #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts smut #bts fanfic #taehyung scenarios #taehyung imagine #taehyung fanfic

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gargaj · 4 years

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A breakdown of the Revision 2020 Threeway Battle shader

Those of you who have been following this year's edition of Revision probably remember the unexpected twist in Sunday's timeline, where I was pitted in a coding "battle" against two of the best shader-coders in the world to fend for myself. Admittedly the buzz it caused caught me by surprise, but not as much as the feedback on the final shader I produced, so I hope to shed some light on how the shader works, in a way that's hopefully understandable to beginners and at least entertaining to experts, as well as providing some glimpses into my thought process along the way.

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Recorded video of the event

But before we dive into the math and code, however, I think it's important to get some context by recounting the story of how we got here.

A brief history of demoscene live-coding

Visual coding has been massively opened up when graphics APIs began to introduce programmable fragment rendering, perhaps best known to most people as "pixel shaders"; this allowed programmers to run entire programmable functions on each pixel of a triangle, and none was more adamant to do that than a fellow named Iñigo Quilez (IQ), an understated genius who early on recognized the opportunity in covering the entire screen with a single polygon, and just doing the heavy lifting of creating geometry in the shader itself. His vision eventually spiraled into not only the modern 4k scene, but also the website ShaderToy, which almost every graphics programmer uses to test prototypes or just play around with algorithms. IQ, an old friend of mine since the mid-00s, eventually moved to the US, worked at Pixar and Oculus, and became something of a world-revered guru of computer graphics, but that (and life) has unfortunately caused him to shift away from the scene.

His vision of single-shader-single-quad-single-pass shader coding, in the meantime, created a very spectacular kind of live coding competition in the scene where two coders get only 25 minutes and the attention of an entire party hall, and they have to improvise their way out of the duel - this has been wildly successful at parties for the sheer showmanship and spectacle akin to rap battles, and none emerged from this little sport more remarkably than Flopine, a bubbly French girl who routinely shuffled up on stage wearing round spectacles and cat ears (actually they might be pony ears on second thought), and mopped the floor up with the competition. Her and a handful of other live-coders regularly stream on Twitch as practice, and have honed their live-coding craft for a few years at this point, garnering a considerable following.

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Just a sample of insanity these people can do.

My contribution to this little sub-scene was coming up with a fancy name for it ("Shader Showdown"), as well as providing a little tool I called Bonzomatic (named after Bonzaj / Plastic, a mutual friend of IQ and myself, and the first person to create a live coding environment for demoparties) that I still maintain, but even though I feel a degree of involvement through the architectural side, I myself haven't been interested in participating: I know I can do okay under time pressure, but I don't really enjoy it, and while there's a certain overlap in what they do and what I do, I was always more interested in things like visual detail and representative geometry aided by editing and direction rather than looping abstract, fractal-like things. It just wasn't my thing.

Mistakes were made

But if I'm not attracted to this type of competition, how did I end up in the crossfire anyway? What I can't say is that it wasn't, to a considerable degree, my fault: as Revision 2020 was entirely online, most of the scene took it to themselves to sit in the demoscene Discord to get an experience closest to on-site socializing, given the somber circumstances of physical distancing. This also allowed a number of people who hasn't been around for a while to pop in to chat - like IQ, who, given his past, was mostly interested in the showdowns (during which Flopine crushed the competition) and the 4k compo.

As I haven't seen him around for a while, and as my mind is always looking for an angle, I somehow put two and two together, and asked him if he would consider taking part in a showdown at some point; he replied that he was up for it - this was around Saturday 10PM. I quickly pinged the rest of the showdown participants and organizers, as I spotted that Bullet was doing a DJ set the next day (which would've been in a relatively convenient timezone for IQ in California as well), and assumed that he didn't really have visuals for it - as there was already a "coding jam" over Ronny's set the day before, I figured there's a chance for squeezing an "extra round" of coding. Flopine was, of course, beyond excited by just the prospect of going against IQ, and by midnight we essentially got everything planned out (Bullet's consent notwithstanding, as he was completely out of the loop on this), and I was excited to watch...

...that is, until Havoc, the head honcho for the showdowns, off-handedly asked me about an at that point entirely hypothetical scenario: what would happen if IQ would, for some reason, challenge me instead of Flopine? Now, as said, I wasn't really into this, but being one to not let a good plan go to waste (especially if it was mine), I told Havoc I'd take one for the team and do it, although it probably wouldn't be very fun to watch. I then proceeded to quickly brief IQ in private and run him through the technicalities of the setup, the tool, the traditions and so on, and all is swell...

...that is, until IQ (this is at around 2AM) offhandedly mentions that "Havoc suggested we do a three-way with me, Flopine... and you." I quickly try to backpedal, but IQ seems to be into the idea, and worst of all, I've already essentially agreed to it, and to me, the only thing worse than being whipped in front of a few thousand people would be going back on your word. The only way out was through.

Weeks of coding can spare you hours of thinking

So now that I've got myself into this jar of pickles, I needed some ideas, and quick. (I didn't sleep much that night.) First off, I didn't want to do anything obviously 3D - both IQ and Flopine are masters of this, and I find it exhausting and frustrating, and it would've failed on every level possible. Fractals I'm awful at and while they do provide a decent amount of visual detail, they need a lot of practice and routine to get right. I also didn't want something very basic 2D, like a byte-beat, because those have a very limited degree of variation available, and the end result always looks a bit crude.

Luckily a few months ago an article I saw do rounds was a write-up by Sasha Martinsen on how to do "FUI"-s, or Fictional User Interfaces; overly complicated and abstract user interfaces that are prominent in sci-fi, with Gmunk being the Michael Jordan of the genre.

Image courtesy of Sasha Martinsen.

Sasha's idea is simple: make a few basic decent looking elements, and then just pile them on top of each other until it looks nice, maybe choose some careful colors, move them around a bit, place them around tastefully in 3D, et voilà, you're hacking the Gibson. It's something I attempted before, if somewhat unsuccessfully, in "Reboot", but I came back to it a few more times in my little private motion graphics experiments with much better results, and my prediction was that it would be doable in the given timeframe - or at least I hoped that my hazy 3AM brain was on the right track.

A bit of math

How to make this whole thing work? First, let's think about our rendering: We have a single rectangle and a single-pass shader that runs on it: this means no meshes, no geometry, no custom textures, no postprocessing, no particle systems and no fonts, which isn't a good place to start from. However, looking at some of Sasha's 3D GIFs, some of them look like they're variations of the same render put on planes one after the other - and as long as we can do one, we can do multiple of that.

Rough sketch of what we want to do; the planes would obviously be infinite in size but this representation is good enough for now.

Can we render multiple planes via a single shader? Sure, but we want them to look nice, and that requires a bit of thinking: The most common technique to render a "2D" shader and get a "3D" look is raymarching, specifically with signed distance fields - starting on a ray, and continually testing distances until a hit is found. This is a good method for "solid-ish" looking objects and scenes, but the idea for us is to have many infinite planes that also have some sort of alpha channel, so we'd have a big problem with 1) inaccuracy, as we'd never find a hit, just something "reasonably close", and even that would take us a few dozen steps, which is costly even for a single plane and 2) the handling of an alpha map can be really annoying, since we'd only find out our alpha value after our initial march, after which if our alpha is transparent we'd need to march again.

But wait - it's just infinite planes and a ray, right? So why don't we just assume that our ray is always hitting the plane (which it is, since we're looking at it), and just calculate an intersection the analytical way?

Note: I would normally refer to this method as "raytracing", but after some consultation with people smarter than I am, we concluded that the terms are used somewhat ambiguously, so let's just stick to "analytical ray solving" or something equally pedantic.

We know the mathematical equation for a ray is position = origin + direction * t (where t is a scalar that represents the distance/progress from the ray origin), and we know that the formula for a plane is A * x + B * y + C * z + D = 0, where (A, B, C) is the normal vector of the plane, and D is the distance from the origin. First, since the intersection will be the point in space that satisfies both equations, we substitute the ray (the above o + d * t for each axis) into the plane:

A * (ox + dx * t) + B * (oy + dy * t) + C * (oz + dz * t) + D = 0

To find out where this point is in space, we need to solve this for t, but it's currently mighty complicated. Luckily, since we assume that our planes are parallel to the X-Y plane, we know our (A, B, C) normal is (0, 0, 1), so we can simplify it down to:

oz + dz * t + D = 0

Which we can easily solve to t:

t = (D - oz) / dz

That's right: analytically finding a ray hit of a plane is literally a single subtraction and a division! Our frame rate (on this part) should be safe, and we're always guaranteed a hit as long as we're not looking completely perpendicular to the planes; we should have everything to start setting up our code.

Full disclosure: Given my (and in a way IQ's) lack of "live coding" experience, we agreed that there would be no voting for the round, and it'd be for glory only, but also that I'd be allowed to use a small cheat sheet of math like the equations for 2D rotation or e.g. the above final equation since I don't do this often enough to remember these things by heart, and I only had a few hours notice before the whole thing.

Setting up the rendering

Time to start coding then. First, let's calculate our texture coordinates in the 0..1 domain using the screen coordinates and the known backbuffer resolution (which is provided to us in Bonzomatic):

vec2 uv = vec2(gl_FragCoord.x / v2Resolution.x, gl_FragCoord.y / v2Resolution.y);

Then, let's create a ray from that:

vec3 rayDir = vec3( uv * 2 - 1, -1.0 ); rayDir.x *= v2Resolution.x / v2Resolution.y; // adjust for aspect ratio vec3 rayOrigin = vec3( 0, 0, 0 );

This creates a 3D vector for our direction that is -1,-1,-1 in the top left corner and 1,1,-1 in the bottom right (i.e. we're looking so that Z is decreasing into the screen), then we adjust the X coordinate since our screen isn't square, but our coordinates currently are - no need to even bother with normalizing, it'll be fine. Our origin is currently just sitting in the center.

Then, let's define (loosely) our plane, which is parallel to the XY plane:

float planeDist = 1.0f; // distance between each plane float planeZ = -5.0f; // Z position of the first plane

And solve our equation to t, as math'd out above:

float t = (planeZ - rayOrigin.z) / rayDir.z;

Then, calculate WHERE the hit is by taking that t by inserting it back to the original ray equation using our current direction and origin:

vec3 hitPos = rayOrigin + t * rayDir;

And now we have our intersection; since we already know the Z value, we can texture our plane by using the X and Y components to get a color value:

vec4 color = fui( hitPos.xy ); // XY plane our_color = color;

Of course we're gonna need the actual FUI function, which will be our procedural animated FUI texture, but let's just put something dummy there now, like a simple circle:

vec4 fui ( vec2 uv ) { return length(uv - 0.5) < 0.5 ? vec4(1) : vec(0); }

And here we go:

Very good, we have a single circle and if we animate the camera we can indeed tell that it is on a plane.

So first, let's tile it by using a modulo function; the modulo (or modulus) function simply wraps a number around another number (kinda like the remainder after a division, but for floating point numbers) and thus becomes extremely useful for tiling or repeating things:

We'll be using the modulo function rather extensively in this little exercise, so strap in. (Illustration via the Desmos calculator.)

vec4 layer = fui( mod( hitPos.xy, 1.0 ) );

This will wrap the texture coordinates of -inf..inf between 0..1:

We also need multiple planes, but how do we combine them? We could just blend them additively, but with the amount of content we have, we'd just burn them in to white and it'd look like a mess (and not the good kind of mess). We could instead just use normal "crossfade" / "lerp" blending based on the alpha value; the only trick here is to make sure we're rendering them from back to front since the front renders will blend over the back renders:

int steps = 10; float planeDist = 1.0f; for (int i=steps; i>=0; i--) { float planeZ = -1.0f * i * planeDist; float t = (planeZ - rayOrigin.z) / rayDir.z; if (t > 0.0f) // check if "t" is in front of us { vec3 hitPos = rayOrigin + t * rayDir; vec4 layer = fui( hitPos.xy, 2.0 ); // blend layers based on alpha output colour = mix( colour, layer, layer.a ); } }

And here we go:

We decreased the circles a bit in size to see the effect more.

Not bad! First thing we can do is just fade off the back layers, as if they were in a fog:

layer *= (steps - i) / float(steps);

We have a problem though: we should probably increase the sci-fi effect by moving the camera continually forward, but if we do, we're gonna run into a problem: Currently, since our planeZ is fixed to the 0.0 origin, they won't move with the camera. We could just add our camera Z to them, but then they would be fixed with the camera and wouldn't appear moving. What we instead want is to just render them AS IF they would be the closest 10 planes in front of the camera; the way we could do that is that if e.g. our planes' distance from each other is 5, then round the camera Z down to the nearest multiple of 5 (e.g. if the Z is at 13, we round down to 10), and start drawing from there; rounding up would be more accurate, but rounding down is easier, since we can just subtract the division remainder from Z like so:

float planeZ = (rayOrigin.z - mod(rayOrigin.z, planeDist)) - i * planeDist;

And now we have movement! Our basic rendering path is done.

Our little fictional UI

So now that we have the basic pipeline in place, let's see which elements can we adapt from Sasha's design pieces.

The first one I decided to go with wasn't strictly speaking in the set, but it was something that I saw used as design elements over the last two decades, and that's a thick hatch pattern element; I think it's often used because it has a nice industrial feel with it. Doing it in 2D is easy: We just add X and Y together, which will result in a diagonal gradient, and then we just turn that into an alternating pattern using, again, the modulo. All we need to do is limit it between two strips, and we have a perfectly functional "Police Line Do Not Cross" simulation.

return mod( uv.x + uv.y, 1 ) < 0.5 ? vec4(1) : vec4(0);

So let's stop here for a few moments; this isn't bad, but we're gonna need a few things. First, the repetition doesn't give us the nice symmetric look that Sasha recommends us to do, and secondly, we want them to look alive, to animate a bit.

Solving symmetry can be done just by modifying our repetition code a bit: instead of a straight up modulo with 1.0 that gives us a 0..1 range, let's use 2.0 to get a 0..2 range, then subtract 1.0 to get a -1..1 range, and then take the absolute value.

vec4 layer = fui( abs( mod( hitPos.xy, 2.0 ) - 1 ) );

This will give us a triangle-wave-like function, that goes from 0 to 1, then back to 0, then back to 1; in terms of texture coordinates, it will go back and forth between mirroring the texture in both directions, which, let's face it, looks Totally Sweet.

For animation, first I needed some sort of random value, but one that stayed deterministic based on a seed - in other words, I needed a function that took in a value, and returned a mangled version of it, but in a way that if I sent that value in twice, it would return the same mangled value twice. The most common way of doing it is taking the incoming "seed" value, and then driving it into some sort of function with a very large value that causes the function to alias, and then just returning the fraction portion of the number:

float rand(float x) { return fract(sin(x) * 430147.8193); }

Does it make any sense? No. Is it secure? No. Will it serve our purpose perfectly? Oh yes.

So how do we animate our layers? The obvious choice is animating both the hatch "gradient" value to make it crawl, and the start and end of our hatch pattern which causes the hatched strip to move up and down: simply take a random - seeded by our time value - of somewhere sensible (like between 0.2 and 0.8 so that it doesn't touch the edges) and add another random to it, seasoned to taste - we can even take a binary random to pick between horizontal and vertical strips:

The problems here are, of course, that currently they're moving 1) way too fast and 2) in unison. The fast motion obviously happens because the time value changes every frame, so it seeds our random differently every frame - this is easy to solve by just rounding our time value down to the nearest integer: this will result in some lovely jittery "digital" motion. The unison is also easy to solve: simply take the number of the layer, and add it to our time, thus shifting the time value for each layer; I also chose to multiply the layer ID with a random-ish number so that the layers actually animate independently, and the stutter doesn't happen in unison either:

vec4 fui( vec2 uv, float t ) { t = int(t); float start = rand(t) * 0.8 + 0.1; float end = start + 0.1; [...] } vec4 layer = fui( abs(mod(hitPos.xy, 2.0)-1), fGlobalTime + i * 4.7 );

Lovely!

Note: In hindsight using the Z coordinate of the plane would've given a more consistent result, but the way it animates, it doesn't really matter.

So let's think of more elements: the best looking one that seems to get the best mileage out in Sasha's blog is what I can best describe as the "slant" or "hockey stick" - a simple line, with a 45-degree turn in it. What I love about it is that the symmetry allows it to create little tunnels, gates, corridors, which will work great for our motion.

Creating it is easy: We just take a thin horizontal rectangle, and attach another rectangle to the end, but shift the coordinate of the second rectangle vertically, so that it gives us the 45-degree angle:

float p1 = 0.2; float p2 = 0.5; float p3 = 0.7; float y = 0.5; float thicc = 0.0025; if (p1 < uv.x && uv.x < p2 && y - thicc < uv.y && uv.y < y + thicc ) { return vec4(1); } if (p2 < uv.x && uv.x < p3 && y - thicc < uv.y - (uv.x - p2) && uv.y - (uv.x - p2) < y + thicc ) { return vec4(1); }

Note: In the final code, I had a rect() call which I originally intended to use as baking glow around my rectangle using a little routine I prototyped out earlier that morning, but I was ultimately too stressed to properly pull that off. Also, it's amazing how juvenile your variable names turn when people are watching.

Looks nice, but since this is such a thin sparse element, let's just... add more of it!

So what more can we add? Well, no sci-fi FUI is complete without random text and numbers, but we don't really have a font at hand. Or do we? For years, Bonzomatic has been "shipping" with this really gross checkerboard texture ostensibly for UV map testing:

What if we just desaturate and invert it?

We can then "slice" it up and render little sprites all over our texture: we already know how to draw a rectangle, so all we need is just 1) calculate which sprite we want to show 2) calculate the texture coordinate WITHIN that sprite and 3) sample the texture:

float sx = 0.3; float sy = 0.3; float size = 0.1; if (sx < uv.x && uv.x < sx + size && sy < uv.y &&uv.y < sy + size) { float spx = 2.0 / 8.0; // we have 8 tiles in the texture float spy = 3.0 / 8.0; vec2 spriteUV = (uv - vec2(sx,sy)) / size; vec4 sam = texture( texChecker, vec2(spx,spy) + spriteUV / 8.0 ); return dot( sam.rgb, vec3(0.33) ); }

Note: In the final code, I was only using the red component instead of desaturation because I forgot the texture doesn't always have red content - I stared at it for waaaay too long during the round trying to figure out why some sprites weren't working.

And again, let's just have more of it:

Getting there!

At this point the last thing I added was just circles and dots, because I was running out of ideas; but I also felt my visual content amount was getting to where I wanted them to be; it was also time to make it look a bit prettier.

Post-production / compositing

So we have our layers, they move, they might even have colors, but I'm still not happy with the visual result, since they are too single-colored, there's not enough tone in the picture.

The first thing I try nowadays when I'm on a black background is to just add either a single color, or a gradient:

vec4 colour = renderPlanes(uv); vec4 gradient = mix( vec4(0,0,0.2,1), vec4(0,0,0,1), uv.y); vec4 finalRender = mix( gradient, vec4(colour.xyz,1), colour.a);

This added a good chunk of depth considerably to the image, but I was still not happy with the too much separation between colors.

A very common method used in compositing in digital graphics is to just add bloom / glow; when used right, this helps us add us more luminance content to areas that would otherwise be solid color, and it helps the colors to blend a bit by providing some middle ground; unfortunately if we only have a single pass, the only way to get blur (and by extension, bloom) is repeatedly rendering the picture, and that'd tank our frame rate quickly.

Instead, I went back to one of the classics: the Variform "pixelize" overlay:

This is almost the same as a bloom effect, except instead of blurring the image, all you do is turn it into a lower resolution nearest point sampled version of itself, and blend that over the original image - since this doesn't need more than one sample per pixel (as we can reproduce pixelation by just messing with the texture coordinates), we can get away by rendering the scene only twice:

vec4 colour = renderPlanes(uv); colour += renderPlanes(uv - mod( uv, 0.1 ) ) * 0.4;

Much better tonal content!

So what else can we do? Well, most of the colors I chose are in the blue/orange/red range, and we don't get a lot of the green content; one of the things that I learned that it can look quite pretty if one takes a two-tone picture, and uses color-grading to push the midrange of a third tone - that way, the dominant colors will stay in the highlights, and the third tone will cover the mid-tones. (Naturally you have to be careful with this.)

"Boosting" a color in the mids is easy: lucky for us, if we consider the 0..1 range, exponential functions suit our purpose perfectly, because they start at 0, end at 1, but we can change how they get here:

So let's just push the green channel a tiny bit:

finalRender.g = pow(finalRender.g, 0.7);

Now all we need is to roll our camera for maximum cyberspace effect and we're done!

Best laid plans of OBS

As you can see from the code I posted the above, I wrote the final shader in GLSL; those who know me know that I'm a lot more comfortable with DirectX / HLSL, and may wonder why I switched, but of course there's another story here:

Given the remote nature of the event, all of the shader coding competition was performed online as well: since transmitting video from the coder's computer to a mixer, and then to another mixer, and then to a streaming provider, and then to the end user would've probably turned the image to mush, Alkama and Nusan came up with the idea of skipping a step and rigging up a version of Bonzo that ran on the coder's computer, but instead of streaming video, it sent the shader down to another instance of Bonzo, running on Diffty's computer, who then captured that instance and streamed it to the main Revision streaming hub. This, of course, meant that in a three-way, Diffty had to run three separate instances of Bonzo - but it worked fine with GLSL earlier, so why worry?

What we didn't necessarily realize at the time, is that the DirectX 11 shader compiler takes no hostages, and as soon as the shader reached un-unrollable level of complexity, it thoroughly locked down Diffty's machine, to the point that even the video of the DJ set he was playing started to drop out. I, on the other hand, didn't notice any of this, since my single local instance was doing fine, so I spent the first 15 minutes casually nuking Diffty's PC to shreds remotely, until I noticed Diffty and Havoc pleading on Discord to switch to GLSL because I'm setting things on fire unknowingly.

This is fine.

I was reluctant to do so, simply because of the muscle memory, but I was also aware that I should keep the show going if I can because if I bow out without a result, that would be a colossal embarrassment to everyone involved, and I only can take one of those once every week, and I was already above my quota - so, I quickly closed the DX11 version of Bonzo, loaded the shader up in a text editor, replaced "floatX" with "vecX" (fun drinking game: take a shot every time I messed it up during the live event), commented the whole thing out, loaded it into a GLSL bonzo, and quickly fixed all the other syntax differences (of which there were luckily not many, stuff like "mix" instead of "lerp", constructors, etc.), and within a few minutes I was back up and running.

This, weirdly, helped my morale a bit, because it was the kind of clutch move that for some reason appealed to me, and made me quite happy - although at that point I locked in so bad that not only did I pay absolutely not attention to the stream to see what the other two are doing, but that the drinks and snacks I prepared for the hour of battling went completely untouched.

In the end, when the hour clocked off, the shader itself turned out more or less how I wanted it, it worked really well with Bullet's techno-/psy-/hardtrance mix (not necessarily my jam, as everyone knows I'm more a broken beat guy, but pounding monotony can go well with coding focus), and I came away satisfied, although the perhaps saddest point of the adventure was yet to come: the lack of cathartic real-life ending that was taken from us due to the physical distance, when after all the excitement, all the cheers and hugs were merely lines of text on a screen - but you gotta deal with what you gotta deal with.

A small sampling of the Twitch reaction.

Conclusion

In the end, what was my takeaway from the experience?

First off, scoping is everything: Always aim to get an idea where you can maximize the outcome of the time invested with the highest amount of confidence of pulling it off. In this case, even though I was on short notice and in an environment I was unfamiliar with, I relied on something I knew, something I've done before, but no one else really has.

Secondly, broaden your influence: You never know when you can take something that seems initially unrelated, and bend it into something that you're doing with good results.

Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, step out of your comfort zone every so often; you'll never know what you'll find.

(And don't agree to everything willy-nilly, you absolute moron.)

#demoscene #live coding #livecoding #shaders #glsl #programming #gamedev #game development

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neighborhoodmoonchild · 5 years

Text

I Could Use A Hug (Uni!Yoongi Oneshot)

1. “Can you please come and get me?”

4. “How long has it been since you’ve slept?”

20. “I could really just use a hug right now.”

Pairing(s): Yoongi x Reader

Genre: University!Au, fluff

Warnings: insomnia, allusions to depression, signs/symptoms of depression and/or anxiety (if you or someone you know is struggling, don’t be afraid to seek help)

Word Count: 2.3k words

The thrum of rain drops pelting every surface around you dulled your senses and fogged your aching mind. You could barely see two feet in front of you, the darkness surrounding you only broken by the sparse light of the street lamps that became farther and fewer the longer you walked.

You weren’t sure how long you had been walking, hell, you weren’t sure where your feet were taking you anymore. All you knew is that you couldn’t lie there and pretend like everything was alright; like your mind wasn’t tearing itself apart bit by bit for seemingly no reason, and no matter how much you wanted to believe that closing your eyes and forcing it all away would work, in the end, it never would.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had slept, really slept, and the nightmares in your head seemed to enjoy their slow torment of you from the inside out.

You’re friends would tell you you’re in your head too much; your parents that it’s stress and lack of a proper routine. None of them seemed to dig deeper, try and see that you’ve tried every solution you could think of to fix their idea of the problem, and that none of them worked.

Then again, why should you expect outsiders to know all the answers when you can’t even pinpoint the why yourself.

So instead of staring at your ceiling and letting your mind run rampant with negative thoughts that feed off your sleep-deprived brain, you decide that taking a walk in the pouring rain at 2 a.m. alone would distract you from everything going on in your consciousness.

Only now, sitting on a rickety bench on the side of some street you’ve never heard of, illuminated only by the blinking bulb of a street lamp 20 ft away, you realize that there is no way to outrun this. And, honestly, your exhausted from running this marathon alone.

Wiping away the rain streaming down your face, that may nor may not have been mostly tears that you hadn’t even known had started spilling, you take out your phone to stare at the screen.

3:45 a.m.

“I shouldn’t bother him.” You whisper to yourself, although you bring up your contacts and push the one your looking for anyways. As you hold the phone to your ear, the dial tone ringing through your mind, you curse yourself for being so thoughtless.

How dare you call him when he’s just trying to sleep, knowing he’s probably been up late working, and expect him to drop everything for you. He probably won’t even answer the pho-

“Hello?” A raspy voice cuts through your intrusive thoughts and it takes all you have not to breakdown right then and there. You knew he’d already be worried by the time and nature of the call, no need to add in your hysterical sobbing.

“Y/N? Hey... are you okay?” Yoongi asks, and you can tell he’s getting more worried by the second, and you need to hurry up and find something to say before he panics.

Clearing your throat and taking a deep breath, “Can you please come and get me?”

You hated the way your voice cracked and how needy you sounded, having half a mind to just tell him it was a joke or something and hang up.

You hear him shuffling around, no doubt getting dressed and grabbing his keys, already one foot out the door.

“Of course, where are you?” His voice is soft, calming, and despite the weight it lifts off of your shoulders, you can’t help the pang of guilt that rumbles through your chest for dragging him into your bullshit all the time (though he’d tell you it’s not bullshit and he’s happy to help).

Your eyes dart around your surroundings, trying to find an indicator to your location, spotting a street sign a few yards away, relaying the information to Yoongi.

After a few seconds of what you’re assuming is him getting in his car and trying to figure out exactly where you are, he clears his throat, “Alright, stay there, I’ll be there in, like, 15 minutes...20 minutes top,” And then hangs up the phone to begin the journey.

Slowly tucking your phone back into your pocket, you discover that the rain pelting down just a mere few minutes ago has died down to a light drizzle. It’s a cool evening, but not uncomfortably cold, though you felt so numb right now you doubt you’d have noticed otherwise.

Left alone to your thoughts once again, counting down the seconds till Yoongi would arrive to save you yet again from yourself, you can’t help but let your thoughts wander to the first time you met him.

You hadn’t been quite the mess you were now, freshly out of high school, entering uni and the real world with a blind sense of optimism that would soon be crushed under the immense weight of classes and college life that you’d been naive enough not to wholly consider beforehand.

Yoongi had already, as he likes to say it, “cracked the code” of university life, handling the stresses of student life with ease. Knew exactly what classes to take and avoid, which professors he could swindle, what work he could get away with skipping, and avoided campus social life like the plague. As far as he was concerned, this shit was a breeze and he’d be out before he knew it, degree in hand and job secured through suckering some admin for sweet connections.

He’d never guess he’d get swept up in your steep downward spiral into oblivion when he bumped into you, a happy-go-lucky freshie, that night he decided to let Hoseok drag him to some random new student event in the music hall despite his aversion to such poorly planned social nightmares. In all honesty, he would’ve just ignored you if you hadn’t asked him, quite honestly, where you could get a shot of whatever made him so “incredibly apathetic and disinterested.”

No one had ever really approached Yoongi in the 2 years that he’d been there, except for Hoseok and a few other guys that frequented their shared dorm, let alone a girl. He’s not sure if it was your blind boldness or your Arcadian demeanor that drew him in, but he won’t lie that he’s glad it happened, because you ended up being the best friend he never knew he needed (and the same goes for you.)

Yoongi was there through finals, bad blind dates, terrible roommates; everything. That kind of friendship also came with a front row seat to watch as your mental health deteriorated, with no sure fire way to help you, and it killed him inside.

Soon life was filled with insomniatic episodes that could last for days, a bad caffeine addiction, and an impending sense of doom looming over your shoulder every second of every day, and Yoongi felt like the only thing he could do was watch it all unfold. He was scared of saying the wrong thing, pushing you further into the black hole you edged closer to, and he didn’t want to lose the closest friend he’d ever had.

He quickly learned that just being there and listening when you needed it was the one thing you needed, and he happened to be pretty freaking good at it.

You’ve been up for 13 hours straight working on the exact same assignment? Let’s take a break and watch your favorite movie.

You’re roommate kicked you out again because she can’t deal with you being up for 3 nights in a row? Crash at my place and we can cuddle (which ultimately puts you to sleep, even if just for a little while most nights).

You’re crying for the 5th time today and you have no idea why? I’ll put on some calming music and crush you in a bear hug until you have no more tears left to cry.

Yoongi didn’t need an explanation or any answers, he just wanted to make sure you were okay. Admit it or not, he’d come to love every single piece, every inch, every molecule of you, and he hated to see the person he loved in pain.

So getting an S.O.S. call at 3 a.m., knowing that in your weakest moment you needed him and only him, sleep didn’t mean anything to him anymore, in fact nothing else did. You were his top priority and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

And so there he was, in his pajamas and a sweatshirt, hair sticking out in all directions, on his way to a random street across town in the middle of the night with only one thing one his mind. You.

He could tell by your voice that you’d had a rough night, considering he’s been present every other time, and he know the signs when he hears them. The fact that you’d gone so far, alone, in the dark, scared him; you’d never done anything quite so reckless in the time he’s known you, and the the fact that you weren’t in the right state of mind had him picking up the pace, urgent to get to you as quickly (but still safely) as possible.

Yoongi learned early on that even though you had a calm and serene attitude, you took things to heart easily, and the more that piled on you, the harder time you had digging your way out. You were very good at hiding how negatively things affected you, and you always put others before yourself, even when the only person desperate for help was you.

He didn’t really understand how someone so in tune with others feeling and emotions, could be so blind to her own. Sometimes you’d even skip meals working yourself into a frenzy, but still manage to scold him for not eating the proper amount of meals per day.

Sometimes, he thought, it was as if you didn’t see yourself as a living, breathing, person that needed everything you were so willing to give to others. Whether you were selfless or stupid, that was a debate for another time.

Turning down the right street, he finally caught a glimpse of the girl he’d been looking for. Your hair was soaked, along with your clothes, and you stared off at the road with an empty look in your eyes. Parking and shutting his car off, Yoongi hopped out and approached you cautiously, shrugging off his sweatshirt as he went.

Your mind finally broke from it’s thoughts to see Yoongi handing you his sweatshirt. When you didn’t reach out to grab it, he quickly moved closer, pulling it over your head and helping your arms through. When you were situated in the warmth of it, the familiar smell of him flooding your senses, it was then that you finally woke up and looked him in the eyes.

You could tell he was tired by the slight discoloration under his puffy eyes, but the emotion that swirled through them was one you had seen him wear quite often when these things happened; sadness.

Without saying anything, he slowly reached out, taking your frail, chilled hand in his, rubbing it to bring back some warmth. You smiled slightly, though tears still spilled from your eyes.

“How long has it been since you’ve slept?” He asked, continuing his ministrations, searching through the storm that raged on in your eyes.

You shrugged, a long, exhausted sigh escaping your lips.

“Not that long.” You lied, and he saw right through it, not only because he could tell by just looking at you, but he knew it’d had to be significantly longer than usual for this sort of thing to occur.

When you looked back at him, he continued to burn through your facade with his gaze till you broke.

“Like... 6...6 days.”

There was a short silence between the two of you as everything sort of sank in. It wasn’t unlike you to survive on a few hours of sleep, or maybe go 2-3 days without it, but never this long. Why didn’t you tell him beforehand? Why didn’t he notice?

“You know,” he begins, bringing your attention back to his face, which softens as he takes in just how tired and sad you looked, “if you need help, any kind, I’ll be right there for you.”

You’re a bit surprised by his statement. You know you’ve been in a bad state for a while, and he knows it too, but the topic of getting help outside of the two of you hadn’t really been discussed. Not that you were opposed to it, it just never crossed your mind.

Your silence seemed to worry him, making him add, “if you want, whenever you’re ready, and if you’re not, well, then that’s okay too....because I’m here for you, not matter what, and-“

Your light giggle breaks him from his tangent, and his mouth turns up in a half smile when he sees you wipe your eyes and turn to him, the life seeming to slowly trickle back into your eyes again.

“Ok.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, slight worry etching back onto his face even though he tried his best to remain as composed as possible for your sake. You nodded, and he gripped your hand tighter.

“Ok, when do you want to-“

“We can figure that out later.” You interrupt, the fatigue cutting through the bit of energy you seemed to gather just being in the presence of the most important person in your life.

He senses you fading, and lifts his other hand to rub your back.

“You know what though?” You say, causing him to tilt his head in question, awaiting your response.

“I could really just use a hug right now.” And without any hesitation, you’re wrapped tightly in his arms, face buried in his chest as his lips place a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you, you know that right?” You mumble into him, and you can feel his body shake a bit with his light chuckle.

“I love you too, now let’s go home.”

————————————————————————————

This is my first attempt at a short prompt imagine type thingy, hope you all enjoy, and if you find any mistakes or have any questions, let me know! Feel free to message me for requests, I’ll try my best to answer if I can! I have lots of drabbles, imagines, and fics planned for this blog so stay tuned!

-Moonie🌙

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lolabean1998 · 4 years

Text

This Better Work! Part 1

Sweet Pea X OC

Summery; Hey guys, not sure how well this is going to go but I originally put it on Wattpad so its way long, but hopefully its not horrendous. Let me know what you think! So, it follows the story line kind of, it’s not exact but I have tried and it follows my OC Ali as she navigates through the hell that is Riverdale. Whilst struggling with financial, social and romantic difficulties, she has the added pressure of keeping up with school work and bonus of being thrown into the frightening world of the criminal underground.

Side Note; None of the gifs or pictures I use are mine, I’m not talented or smart enough to even begin an attempt at making my own. Thank you to those who have such abilities and if you don't want me using them then please let me know so I can remove them for you.

Word Count; 3487 (Give Or Take)

Masterlist Part-2

"She's so hot it hurts!" Reggie groaned as he watched the bubbly blonde smile, dance, flip and cheer her heart out alongside her red headed best friend Cheryl Blossom. Her long blonde hair swishing and flicking as she moved effortlessly to the beat, her bright, happy smile shining like a beacon and catching like wild fire. Her cheerleading uniform hugging her tanned and toned body in all the right places, accentuating her muscular but feminine figure as she elegantly threw herself into a somersault.

She had moved to Riverdale a few years ago with her mum and sister from England when her father passed away. They had decided to move to get a fresh start and be closer to her uncle Gary, their last remaining relative. She worked with him at his garage, picking up the work he didn't have time for. When she wasn't busy getting straight A's, cheering, tutoring or helping at the Blue and Gold. It went without saying that she was the hardest working person in Riverdale.

"Catching flies Reggie?" She chirped as she took her seat beside him waiting for the game to begin.

"Cute Ali, What d'you say to grabbing a bite to eat with me after I win this match?" He replied slightly arrogantly. Ali laughed placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Thanks for the offer but it's a hard pass, I already have a very hot date with a vintage car and very sexy Harley." Ali grinned, her smile contagious as ever and her eyes seemed to radiate cheerful rays of sunshine, day or night. Cheryl laughed wrapping her arm around her best friends shoulder placing a kiss on her rosy cheeks.

"Punching way above your weight there don't you think Mantle? She's on a level so high the only one equal to her is mwah, run along meat head she's spending tonight with me." Cheryl interrupted with a grin.

"Hey Cheryl darling, can you wear the handcuffs tonight after our naked pillow fight? My wrists are still sore from last time and I still have teeth marks on my boobs." Ali asked, her face deadly serious as the girls teased and tormented Reggie. Cheryl grinned wickedly, she loved the effect their little jokes had on the guys, she nodded sincerely before moving down to rest her cheek on the side of Ali's boob.

"I'm sorry my babies, was mommy too rough last time? I'll be gentle this time I promise." She cooed, speaking softly to Ali's boobs. Reggies jaw dropped further, sending the girls buckling over in raging fits of laughter.

"You two are cruel you know that, cute but cruel." he stated with a smirk as he got up and headed onto the pitch. The girls spent the whole game cheering, smiling and dancing letting out loud hollers and flips when Reggie won the game. Before rushing to the changing rooms to shower and change ready for the long night ahead.

Jumping in Cheryl’s stunning red, 1961 Chevrolet Impala convertible and tearing out the school parking lot. With Ali quickly jumping out as Cheryl dropped her off at the garage before speeding down to Pops to pick up their order. Ali hurriedly covered up the necessary sections of the old-style flame red hearse. Before turning on the heat pad she and her little sister had made to keep their food warm whilst they worked and grabbing the masks and goggles ready for the spray gun she would be using after they'd eaten.

"Jesus, what happened to this poor little guy?" Cheryl asked as she stepped out of her car and passed a very beaten and broken motorbike. Her eyes filled with sympathy as she stared at the helpless wreckage, placing the bag of deliciousness that was Pops cheese burger, fries and onion rings on the heat pad Ali had set up.

"Hurts to look at doesn't it!" Ali agreed grabbing a cheese burger and taking a large bite. She was always hungry after a game. All that cheering, and dancing worked up quite the appetite.

Whilst the girls shared barely any sympathy for other people, they made up for it by sympathizing with the vehicles Ali was given to fix up. They stared at the broken, mud splattered bike for a moment. Eating their food in peaceful silence.

"What happened to him?" Cheryl asked after finishing the last bite of her burger and grabbing a few fries.

"He got into it with the big guy over here!" Ali pointed towards the hearse they were about to re-paint. "If his rider hadn't thrown them into a ditch, we'd be holding a funeral instead of an operation." She sighed shaking her head.

Cheryl stared, puzzled at her best friends comment. Silently hinting for her to elaborate.

Ali sighed pointing to the bike "Snakes" then pointed towards the hearse, "Ghoulies".

"Enough said." Cheryl rolled her eyes. Covering the food and pulling on a pair of grubby overalls before placing the goggles and mask carefully on her face. Giving Ali the thumbs up to get started on the paint work.

After an hour of tedious spraying and endless gossiping the paint job was done. The roaring red, orange and yellow flames had been restored to their former glory. Ali and Cheryl could finally lay the paints and stencils to rest.

"I'm so glad that's over. If Malachi scratches this paint job again, I'll kill him twice!" Ali whined stretching her arms and wrists to relieve some of the tension. Cheryl nodded, releasing an agonizing groan in agreement. Only to jump enthusiastically to her feet immediately afterwards, throwing the mask and goggles to the worktop and sliding the slightly dusty red tool box to the centre of the room.

"Now it's time for the fun stuff, you sure you've got all the parts for tough guy in the corner?" Cheryl grinned eagerly as Ali nodded wheeling the bike to the centre of the room beside her tool box.

"All we need now is background music, food and gossip. Shouldn't be hard!" She grinned plugging her phone into the old boom box on her worktop and pressing shuffle play. Pulling two stools with her as she moved back to the bike.

"Still can't believe the state of this poor baby." Ali sighed as she began digging out bits of mud and debris left over from the ditch.

"That's boy's for you. It's just typical, they get into all kinds of trouble, cause a hug mess and then leave it for us girls to clear up. Whilst the misogynistic pigs continue fuelling their already oversized ego's. Telling everyone about how they wrecked their bike doing something reckless and crazy." Cheryl ranted, pulling a large twig out and splattering herself with mud.

"You want to be careful what you Northsiders say about those misogynistic, egotistical boys. They could just as easily snap you in half young lady." A deep gravelly voice spoke up from the shadows. However, Ali and Cheryl were far to absorbed in the fixing of such a magnificent bike to notice they were no longer alone.

"Ali you live on the Northside of the border. That makes YOU a Northsider too. And what’s up with your voice? You sound like an old, spent, has been that smokes 3 packs a day." Cheryl questioned. Her eyes carefully inspecting the now almost completely clean bike, scanning for any further damage. Ali popped her head up almost meerkat like at Cheryl’s comment.

"What are you talking about? I didn't say anything." She puzzled, spotting the tool she had been looking for, lying besides Cheryl’s leg.

"Hey, can you pass me the thingy ma jig by your leg?" She asked pointing to the tool. Nodding a thanks when Cheryl stopped to pass her the spanner. "Cheers, what were we talking about?"

Before Cheryl had a chance to answer a tall, middle aged man with a rugged grey beard appeared from the shadows.

"I believe you were calling me a spent has been!" The gravelly voice spoke up again, making the girls flinch ever so slightly.

"Jeez Hog-Eye, knock next time! We thought you were a dangerous criminal or something!" Ali exclaimed wiping the back of her hand on her forehead. Hog-Eye sighed, slumping into the office chair by the worktop and pinching the bridge of his nose in exhausted annoyance.

"Ali I AM a dangerous criminal" He declared now rubbing his temples to relieve some of the stress that came with talking to Ali. She was so used to dealing with criminals and dangerous gangs, that she forgot they were dangerous.

"Oh yeah, you were weren't you!" She chimed brightly grabbing a set of keys from the back pocket of her overalls and throwing them to the mentally drained Serpent.

"Next time you loan out your truck make sure they can actually drive stick! It physically pains me otherwise!" She called out as Hog Eye made his way out the garage.

"You're lucky your cute Ali cat!" He called back semi joking. Ali grinned, winking at Cheryl as she replied.

"Not to mention the best mechanic in town!" She shouted grinning. Waiting for the response he always gave, smirking when he shouted the words 'No Comment' before driving off in his truck.

The girls laughed and worked through the night. Locking themselves in so there were no more surprise guests. Pausing for a well needed rest at some horrific time in the morning and napping for a couple of hours on the hammocks at the back of Ali's work shop to regain some much-needed energy.

6am came around and the girls had finally finished returning the bike to its previous magnificence. They were sat on the bonnet of Cheryl’s car admiring their handy work when Cheryl’s phone lit up with a message from her mother.

"Oh god, looks like this is my queue to leave." Cheryl groaned finishing off her 4th cup of tea, since it was the only thing Ali stocked. She has yet to acquire the taste for coffee.

"We still on for our spa session later?" Cheryl chirped jumping in her car.

"Oh, hell yeah, I'm going to need it after the day I have planned" Ali exclaimed, waving good bye to her Bestie and heading back inside leaving the garage door open slightly to let some fresh air in. She quickly began putting everything back in its place and cleaning up her work space. Pausing every now and then to admire the beautiful bike posing perfectly in the centre of the room.

"Don't you look all handsome and full of life now!" She complimented the bike, smiling proudly to herself at the thought of her handy work.

"If the outdated death carriage is ever mean to you again, I'll scrap it myself!" She threatened glaring at the flame covered hearse in the corner. She had just finished packing away her tools when a skin crawling voice brought her back to reality.

"You know for first thing in the morning you still look hot as hell, even with all the grease, engine dirt and crazy talk." That voice made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and she had to force down a shudder that was desperately trying to creep up her spine. She knew exactly who it was.

"That's sweet of you Mal but we both know I prefer 2 wheels not 4 and I like guys, not girls." She teased, casually making her way over to the office door where a tall, man with dark curly hair and a crazy look in his eyes, stood leaning against the frame.

His chiselled face, masking the crazy in his eyes with a friendly smile. His bare chest covered only slightly by the studded leather jacket that hung from his slender but muscular build. Ali stopped in front of the man raising an unamused eyebrow when he refused to let her past. Instead placing a bony hand on her waist and leaning closer towards her.

Ali huffed grabbing his hand and crushing it in a firm death grip as she moved it away from her body, twisting it, forcing him to spin round giving her free rein to lock his hand painfully between his shoulder blades. Her grip was shockingly strong considering her build and the fact the she was barely 5'3.

"Really Malachi? Really!" She sighed shoving him forwards to make herself and the Ghoulie a cup of tea with her free hand.

"I thought you were the smart one in your little circus club. I told you, next time you try that I'm going to break your wrist, but do you listen? Nooooo!" She ranted calmly before releasing him from her hold, handing him a mug of black tea and patting his shoulder. A warm but sleepy smile perched on her slightly grubby face.

"You know if you weren't so damn cute and the only one who can make a decent cup of English tea, I'd let the boys have you." He scowled flopping down on the worn, grey couch rubbing his wrist. Ali raised her eyebrows at him, a smirk tugging on the corners of her perfect lips.

"You do that and next time I'll use a tattoo gun instead of permanent marker." She warned crossing her legs as she made herself comfortable perched on her desk. Giggling at the memory of the last time she had a run it with Malachi's goons. She had been out on a late-night jog when she was surround by his second in command and 2 of his puppets. She had grabbed a pipe that was nearby and managed to knock 2 of them out, sending one of the puppets running. As a sign of shame, she wrote the words 'Beaten By A Cheerleader' on their foreheads. Though Malachi found it amusing, his second did not. "Besides you love me far too much to let me get hurt. If you didn't you would've killed me for shaming your puppets." She pointed out with a smug grin, she knew she had him in a corner.

"Shut up and drink your tea Ali cat." He grumbled slurping down his tea just to spite her.

"Aw you DO love me!" Ali beamed.

"Don't tell anyone, they'll think I've gone soft!" Malachi admitted, standing up and rustling Ali's hair as he placed his empty cup in the sink beside her. Ali huffed playfully, blowing the strands of hair from her face and handing him the keys to his car.

"It still has to dry but I'll move it out front once Gary's moved the tow truck and you can grab it later on." She informed him following him into the garage so he could inspect her work. Pulling a large envelope of cash from his pocket and handing it to her. Kneeling to inspect it closely.

"Do I pass?" Ali asked curiously, staring at the thoughtful look on his face from her new spot on the bench. "Jeez Mal don't think to hard you might pull something." She joked shoving the envelope in the safe under her desk.

"Yeah of course you pass. When have you ever failed me?" Malachi asked straightening up. "That should cover the paint job and the compensation I owe you for the idiots that trashed the place the other night."

Ali looked at him a little taken a back. But he quickly held up his hand to silence any comment she had brewing. Instead she wrapped her arms around him pecking his cheek before dropping to her swinging feet to the dusty grey floor.

"Thanks, Malachi and as always, I shall tell everyone that you are a vile, arrogant creep that tried to cheat me out of my money. Can't have people thinking you've gone soft now can we." Ali mocked, she knew the drill by now; he'd be nice to her if she pretended he was the insane wild card everyone thought he was.

"Until next time Jackass!" She called as he disappeared into the early morning sun. Heaving a sigh of relief Ali turned to the pile of homework on the work top. Throwing her long hair up in a scruffy pony tail she slumped into the patched-up office chair to finish the homework she had been avoiding all night.

"Looks like it's just you and me!" She sighed combing through the rest of her geometry homework.

After what seemed like an eternity, she had finally completed all her homework. Her head now fried from all the extra thinking. Ali sat admiring her handy work, sipping the steaming celebratory tea she had made for herself.

"I've made a few modifications to your engine, so this time you'll be able to out run anything. Even with Goliaths grumpy, love child on your back. Just don't let the clumsy fool boss you around!" Ali instructed the proud Harley.

"You know it can't hear you right?" A voice spoke up breaking the blissful peace of her empty garage and sending Ali flying. Almost spilling her tea.

"GOD DAMMIT! I Am Putting A Bell On That Door!" Ali yelled spinning around to see who had sent her heart beating at a hundred miles an hour.

"What The Hell Fangs?! You gave me a heart attack!" She yelled at the tanned, dark haired boy leant against the door frame. A leather jacket wrapped around his muscle-bound arms.

"And it still didn't kill you? Damn I'm going to have to up my game." Fangs remarked stepping into the room to do a few laps circling the bike, admiring its new physique.

"You know how screwed you'd be if it had been him coming to pick up his bike this morning instead of me?" Fangs commented nodding with admiration after a few laps around the bike.

"Who flower? Please, bit of weed killer and I'd be grand!" Ali replied casually, brushing off Fangs' warning like a bug on her shoulder. It took a lot to scare Ali. Unless it's a spider. Ali does NOT do spiders.

"Don't say I didn't warn you Ali Cat." Fangs sighed grabbing a chair and pulling it up beside her.

"Pfft whatever errand boy. The mighty Pea Pod ever going to collect his own bike or is he going to stick to sending you down to hide his shame." Ali mused adding up the total and writing down the total bill in big clear letters on a bright pink post it note.

"Hey, I'm no errand boy! I offered to come down. Since that Andrews kid waved a gun in his face, he's been super wired and if I'm honest, the Serpents versus Bulldogs fight the other night has only made him worse." Fangs offloaded. Ali could tell he was feeling the pressure. She placed a friendly hand on his arm. Ever since Joaquin disappeared Fangs had seemed a little lonely, he still had his 2 best friends, but he missed having someone that was on the same wave length as him. Suddenly a light bulb sparked up in Ali's brain sending an excited, yet mischievous grin spread across her face.

"Oh no I know that look! Whatever it is the answers no! Absolutely not, nope, not going to happen, no, NO!" Fangs declared but he knew it was hopeless. She gave him her best pleading puppy dog eyes, hugging his arm and pouting. He caved in less than a second.

"Fine what?" He threw his arms up in defeat.

"Just get Flower, Jughead and Topaz to the Quarry tomorrow at 5 and bring water balloons." Ali grinned handing him the post it note and keys to the bike.

"Tell him it's in big letters so he can read it." Ali smiled. She had never met Sweat Pea, but she had heard enough about him from his friends to know the temptation to wind him up was too great.

"This is why I volunteer every time. This exact reason Ali cat. You two would be a lethal combination." Fangs explained throwing on his helmet, swinging his leg over the bike giving Ali a final wave before disappearing down the road towards Sunnyside trailer park.

"And then there was one." Ali sighed moving inside to get started on the mountain of paperwork her uncle had left her.

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yumeka36 · 4 years

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My 2019 fandom year in review

2019 has been a very interesting year for my two most beloved fandoms – Frozen and Pokemon. It’s quite a coincidence that in the same year they both had arguably their biggest releases to date, with Pokemon getting its first main series game on a home console system, and Frozen getting its long-awaited and hyped sequel (not to mention both of them released within a week of each other). And also coincidentally, both of these releases ended up causing unexpected drama in the fandom months before their releases: Pokemon fans were outraged when the decision to cut over half the pokemon species from the new games was officially announced, and Frozen fans were outraged when spoilers of the sequel unofficially leaked online, giving vague hints at an ending many did not like.

I’ve been involved in many fandoms in my 20-ish years of having an online presence: I was a hardcore anime fan for most of those years, which involves many different series and thus many different fandoms within the anime fandom. I’ve seen a fair share of drama in my time, but nothing like what I saw this year. For Frozen especially, maybe it’s because I was simply never as emotionally invested in a franchise as I am with Frozen (I love Pokemon too of course, but being a non story-focused video game series, it’s a very different relationship: whether I like game mechanics and find playing it to be fun isn’t nearly as emotionally taxing as being immersed in the story arcs of beloved characters). Pokemon fans were especially out of control this year (maybe it’s because there’s simply more of them compared to Frozen since the franchise has been around for 20+ years). For months you couldn’t look at any post from Pokemon’s official social media without seeing comment after comment of people ranting about this decision for the new games and spamming the #BringBackNationalDex hashtag. It was honestly kind of incredible. But again, the Frozen drama exhausted me to a level I had never felt before and conjured anxiety in me that I never want to experience again. The couple months before release were brutal for my mental health and it was so sad watching a fan community that was always so pleasant and fun become a source of bashing and negativity. When these dramatic moments hit the fandoms, I of course had to express my concerned feelings online, as did many others. I wrote a venting post for Pokemon here and two for Frozen here and here. But in both cases, even though I was upset, disappointed, and worried that my two favorite franchises, my two biggest sources of joy, were going to let me down, I reached a point where I wasn’t going to let the uncertainty consume me and I was going to give them the benefit of the doubt.

And now, here were are, at the dawn of 2020, it’s been over a month since Frozen 2 and Pokemon Sword/Shield have been officially released. I’ve had time to fully immerse myself in both of them…and I’m glad I held onto my optimism because I ended up loving them both! My gameplay time for Pokemon Shield is over 115 hours, and I still haven’t had enough! I’ve had so much fun playing the game together with friends in the past few weeks and having competitive battles online with players from all over the world. Yeah, it’s a bummer that I won’t be able to use some of my favorite pokemon and strategies anymore, but the game is offering me enough new stuff and enough of the old stuff to keep me satisfied (plus there’s Pokemon Home to look forward to!) I’ve seen Frozen 2 in theaters many times with friends and family, and it was a fun experience each time. Even though the movie has its share of issues, I feel like its good points more than make up for its bad points, and that’s what counts to me.

Even though it was rough, thanks to all this drama, I’ve learned a lot about myself and my relationship to fandoms this year, proving that sometimes something good can come out of something bad. Seeing how much I love these current installments of Pokemon and Frozen, despite recognizing their flaws, proves something I’ve always felt about fandoms: they’re meant to bring happiness, so even if they go in a direction I wasn’t expecting or even don’t agree with, as long as I still feel love for the characters and the franchise’s universe, I want to work with that. I’ll adjust my headcanons, I’ll fill in gaps the creators made with my own interpretations, I’ll focus on the things I do like in the product we got and not continuously lament about what could have been. Because at the end of the day, these aren’t obligations like going to work or taking care of your house: these are things you go out of your way to invest in, and when they start bringing you more pain than pleasure, you have the option to either walk away and move onto a different fandom, stay in the fandom but become a bundle of negativity about it (which is no fun and not what fandom should bring you), or focus on the good that you got in the characters and worlds you still love even if you have to create some of it yourself in the form of fanfiction, fan theories, and the like. The different direction Pokemon and Frozen took this year was jarring, but nothing to the point of me wanting to leave the fandoms: on the contrary, I’m more hyped than ever! I’m already getting used to the changes and am looking forward to new installments to come (there was never a doubt there’d be more Pokemon games but more Frozen works is a little iffy – I have hope though!)

With that said, I hope all your fandoms bring you great joy this coming year. 2020 may be a “quiet after the storm” for Frozen and Pokemon, but I hope we’ll at least get announcements for new projects soon. The excitement never stops, such is fandoms~

*Crossposted from my main blog, Yume Dimension*

#fandoms #frozen #frozen 2 #pokemon #pokemon sword and shield

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thewritewolf · 5 years

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Rekindle Chapter 5 - Baking

While getting settled in to watch some movies, Marinette and Chat Noir bake some cookies for snacking.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

@marichatmay

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

“Really? That’s why your coworkers are mad at you? Seems like a really stupid thing to keep a grudge over.” Chat Noir sipped at the tea Marinette had made for him, holding the mug very carefully to avoid scratching it was his clawed gloves.

“I know, right?! So I had one bad day two years ago and they will still barely talk to me.” She sighed. “I’ve already started looking around for other internships. Even if I don’t get better pay, it’ll at least be nice not to be a social outcast.”

It had been sweet of Chat Noir to listen to her vent for the last… three hours, she realized with a wince as she glanced at her clock. When had Chat Noir become so patient? Her experience with him from Ladybug’s perspective was a hothead who rushed into things without thinking. There had been times where she had to worry more about reining in his more moody episodes than fighting the akuma of the day. Yet here he was, letting her get all her frustrations off her chest while being as supportive as ever.

“It definitely isn’t fair, purrincess. But I think I know what will cheer you up…” She tilted her head to the side as he stretched for the gift box he’d brought. Holding up the dvds, he grinned at her, “...movie night!”

“Hm… sounds good, but missing something.” She tapped her chin for added effect.

“And what’s that?”

“We’ll need snacks. Lots of them.” She caught him glancing towards the last remnants of their dinner. “Pasta is not movie food, chaton, not even delicious pasta.” He puffed his chest out at her off-handed compliment. “How does sugar cookies sound to you?”

“I’ll defer to your superior movie day expertise.” They stood at the same time, but Chat Noir hesitated. “It’s, uh… been awhile since I’ve made cookies. Like, years. So I’ll follow your lead on this one.”

“Well, it’s good for you that I practically grew up baking delicious treats.” She started pulling out all the ingredients she’d need. “Sugar cookies really aren’t that hard, so I’ll just whip up the batter myself. You can help roll them out into balls before we put them in the oven.”

Chat Noir sighed dramatically, holding aloft his chef’s hat. Even after three hours of talking, she didn’t know why he’d brought it besides being a dork. “Ah, from head chef to mere bystander. How the mighty have fallen.”

“Well since you seem so familiar with my kitchen, you can get the pan out and greased while I’m going this.”

“Yes, chef!” Despite the crisp salute, he moved leisurely and hummed a song that Marinette couldn’t quite place while he worked. She was still stirring when he was finished and watching her expectantly.

She stared pointedly at his hands. “Those gauntlets come off, Chat?”

“Yes…? Oh, right. Probably don’t want me rolling cookies in these, do you?” He chuckled to himself as he undid some latch underneath the bulky gloves and Marinette blinked as she realized that this was the first time she’d ever seen her partners bare hands.

They weren’t what she had expected, although she wasn’t aware she even had expectations of what he looked like outside the suit. Since Chat was always a wild child and full of life, she had expected maybe some scars or calluses. Maybe a tan from long days outside. Instead, they looked… soft and well manicured. No sign of rough usage or long healed injuries. The hands of someone who took their looks seriously, and stayed out of trouble. She realized she was staring and quickly looked down at what she was stirring as Chat Noir went to wash his hands.

The rest of the process was spent in companionable quiet and between the two of them all the dough was rolled and flattened in no time at all. Even with her distracted by his bare hands - she’d already been proven wrong twice about her long standing assumptions about him. What else could she have incorrectly assumed?

Once she set the pan in the oven, she asked, “So… want to play a game to pass the time?”

As expected, that got his interest. Though he tried to hide the excitement in his voice, she could see it in his eyes and by the swishing of his tail. “Sure! What did you have in mind?”

“Well, some sweetheart just got me some new sketchbooks, so I was thinking we could do kind of like a drawing charades? We draw something and the other person has to guess what it is. Every three correct answers and we’ll swap positions. Sound good?”

“Sounds purr-fect.” When she pushed the book over to him, he shook his head and pushed it back. “Host gets first turn. Even I know that rule.”

WIth the help of a random word generator, she began sketching the first object. She didn’t make it far from the symmetrical design before Chat Noir made his guess.

“Butterfly?” He grinned. “I’d rather leave work at work, if you don’t mind, Marinette.”

“Okay, fair enough. Butterfly was probably too easy a start. What about this…” She quickly jotted out an outline with four legs, whiskers, and a tail.

He snickered. “Really? Its a cat. No? What else could it - oh, a kitten.”

“Almost got you there, Chat. Can’t get too cocky. Last one before we switch.”

“Uhh, a circle. A pancake? No. Soup with sprinkles?” She looked at where he was hovering over her shoulder and raised her eyebrow. “What? It could happen. Cake with candles.” She gestured for him to continue. “...Oh! Birthday cake.”

“Good job. Now,” she passed the sketchbook and phone with the word generator to him, only now noticing how close he’d gotten, “Your turn.”

He took the offered pencil sheepishly. “Okay, just keep in mind I’m not as good at drawing as you.”

“And that’s part of the challenge for me.” She glanced at the clock. Still a while to go until the cookies were done. “Start when you’re ready.”

His first drawing was a crowd of people just barely above stick figure quality, but what tipped her off was how there was two bigger ones and a smaller one - which lead her to the correct guess of family. Next he made a long-sleeved shirt with surprisingly good detail. The two of them had gone through her fall clothing sketchbooks before. Was that where he learned to draw sweaters? The last one had been more abstract, but his little forest scene made more sense when he doodled wind and falling leaves. In hindsight, autumn should have been obvious.

“Alright, my turn again.” She hesitated for a moment before turning the page, savoring the little drawings Chat had made before starting her turn.

With only a single rectangle to go off of Chat Noir began guessing. “Box!” She added z’s coming off of it. “Tired box. Sleeping box. Bed!”

She took quick break to laugh before turning to him incredulously. “Sleeping box?!”

“I remembered the word eventually,” he grumbled. “Did I at least get it right?”

“No, but you’re close. Let’s see if this helps…” She drew another rectangle around the box and he finally got it.

“Oh! Pillow!”

She nodded and started work on her next drawing. It didn’t take long for him to figure out ‘gloves’, especially since she just copied his suit’s. Just as she reached for her phone to go for another round, she saw the time.

“Cookies should be done now, so that’s the end of the game.” She saw a brief look of disappointment on Chat Noir’s face. “Don’t worry, we can always play again some other time.”

“I’ll hold you to that. At least sugar cookies are a good reason to stop.” He took a deep breath as she took them out of the oven. “Ahhhh… delicious.”

She giggled, “You haven’t even had any!”

“Well, it’s a dupain-cheng baked good, so it goes without saying.”

“Such a flatterer.”

“I don’t hear you denying it.”

“And that’s because it’s true. Doesn’t make you any less of a flatterer for bringing it up.” She set the platter of cookies on the table. “Don’t eat all those while I’m gone. I’m going to scrounge up a bunch of pillows and blankets. Can you get ready to start the movies while I’m looking?”

“Sure.”

It took awhile for her to find where she’d stashed all of it. After all, it had been months, if not a full year since she’d needed to pull out extra pillows and blankets. Which made her stop and really think. Had it been so long since she’d had anyone stay over? She’d gotten into such an exhausting routine at work, she hadn’t even realized. By the time she came back, Chat Noir was lounging on her couch, eyes closed and hands behind his head. The television wasn’t even on, much less set up. She narrowed her eyes at him and walked towards him.

He cracked open one eye and grinned at her. “Hey, purrincess. Find everything- ack!” His sentence was cut off when she dumped everything onto him and jumped on top of it. “Hey! I was laying here!”

She coyly looked down at him, being sure to open her eyes in mock surprise. “Oh! Sorry. I must not have noticed you there.” She smiled sweetly at him. “I’m comfortable. Are you ready to watch some movies.”

“Ha ha, very funny. Get off and I’ll start them.”

She jumped off of him and while he was busy with the dvd player, Marinette unfolded the blankets and strategically placed some pillows while pulling up the table to put the cookies on. By the time he was done, she was under the blankets and holding them up for him. He slipped in after turning off the lights and their marathon began.

-------------------------

The light of the credits provided scant illumination for the room. Despite eating all the sugar cookies, the two of them were feeling drained after the long day and relaxing in front of the television. Marinette was barely able to keep her eyes open. She’d long since given up the struggle to sitting up straight and she was leaning against Chat Noir, her head was resting on his shoulder. As sleepy as she felt that she was, she knew that Chat was doing even worse, since he’d already nodded off a couple times during the last movie. She pulled herself away from Chat, only now noticing that his arm had snaked around her at some point during the last few hours. Stretching, she stood and gently nudged him.

“Chat? It’s pretty late and it doesn’t feel right to send you out when you’re this tired. You want to crash here?”

Yawning, he replied, “If that’s alright with you, yeah.”

“C’mon, I’ll show you to the guest room. Grab some of those pillows and blankets and make yourself comfortable.”

He shambled after her, only reluctantly still awake before collapsing onto the guest bed. No sooner had she closed the door than a flash of green light appeared under the door. Her heart fluttered for a moment - on the other side of the door was whoever Chat Noir actually was. She stood still for a few long heartbeats before his snoring broke her out of it.

“Goodnight, kitty,” she whispered before heading to bed herself.

#MarichatMay2019 #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Chat Noir #Marichat #ml fanfiction #my writing #Rekindle

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