#wow. literally the one couple like that I was rooting for above all the other options and they went fuck you. ted gets nobody and goes home

[laniidae-passerine]

but genuinely you can’t be doing the whole ‘oooooh two divorcees looking for emotional connection after heartbreak!’ and ‘I believe in romcommunism’ and ‘is it Ted that Rebecca is texting on banter???’ and ‘watch as they grow independence and self love but constantly with the feeling they’re intertwined in some lovely, chosen way’ just to go ‘actually they never get to together and Ted fucks off back home to the place that is now shaped by not great memories’. The fuck??? I’m bisexual, I was so there for the deeply unlikely TedTrent but I always thought TedBecca would happen because it makes more narrative sense. For two whole seasons they orbited around each other with this impending sense of collision, this hope they could find love in the strangest of conditions, in a stranger they’d never have chosen, only for that to be completely ignored??? This isn’t about ooooh heterosexual couple didn’t kiss (I will die on the bi4bi or at least Bi Ted hill fuck you) it’s about the fact that now, tons of moments are stupid as fuck! You played that with a hint of romance! You played that like something was going to happen! You wouldn’t shut up about Rebecca’s love life and Ted’s need to let go and have somebody else handle it all for him, they seemed made for each other from the start and you went ‘nah fuck it’????? WHAT IS THIS????

#ted lasso critical #sorry to tedbeccas!!! sorry to you!!! #coming from a ted multishipper who would have cheered if beard and him kissed with tongue #you guys were the ones who were supposed to win! we were meant to go ‘ah shame about tedtrent but we did see this coming congrats’ #and then all go back to ao3 together in peace!!! I was going to read tedbecca celebration fics invetween roykeeleyjamie and tedtrent ones!!! #AND WE ALL FUCKING LOST #I’m enlisting in tedbecca army now how did this happen #FOR A SEEMINGLY CISHET WHITE COUPLE???? THEY LOST??????? THEY NEVER LOSE???? #wow. literally the one couple like that I was rooting for above all the other options and they went fuck you. ted gets nobody and goes home #yeah you wish you were crazy ex girlfriend. but you’re not. they EARNT that ending. you earnt none of that. lord above it sucked #ted lasso spoilers #ted lasso #also sorry back in my notes to clarify as a person who is also mixed race #I know cishet couples can lose if it’s a biracial couple <3 but like #just used heterosexual as shorthand sorry

[missinghan]

falling for the first time ⤖ bang chan

❖ genre : hogwarts au; fluff

❖ word count : 2,1k.

❖ warning : explicit language

❖ summary : your plan of putting all effort into avoiding bang chan as much as possible has been going smoothly for almost seven years until he asks you for a dance at the Yule Ball. or alternatively, your families hate each other but wait...has he always had those golden flecks in his eyes?

❖ author’s note : here’s the song they’re dancing to 🖤

one.

The once cold ballroom has waited for eons it seems, for a real heart to beat a new rhythm into the matter that made it. 

Meanwhile, you too have been waiting (for two-ish hours) in the corner with your cup of root beer abandoned at a table for your dance partner. You’re currently half-clutching your dress and half-panicking because Chan wouldn’t miss an event as extravagant as the Yule Ball. He’s not the type to be sour over little things either just because he didn’t win the Triwizard Tournament. Or perhaps someone else just happened to ask him? 

A blood-curdling shriek bursts your eardrums. 

Jeongin gives you a nudge with his elbow from behind. “Grilled scream-cheese?” he asks with a mouthful of gluten and carbs, a plate of a sandwich with a (literally) screaming slice of cheese slapped in the middle. 

“No, my appetite is ruined,” you say, pushing it away slightly and heaving an audible sigh. 

The Ravenclaw boy makes an alarming noise—something similar to ‘uh-oh’ and swallows the big bite from before as fast as he can. “Where’s Chan?”

You only shrug, “Don’t know. Don’t care.” If only you could do that with the train of thoughts that have been going in and out of your ears for the past a hundred and twenty minutes. 

“Y/N, you look troubled,” he purses his lips, frowning at you. 

“I’m not,” you voice in denial, trying your best not to come off as snappy. No, you will not give up your facade that easily. You won’t leave Chan’s ego nor Jeongin to rest without a fight by saying that you actually want to dance with the heathen!

“Yeah right, let me-“

“Don’t. What if he’s already asked someone else?” You momentarily shudder at how sad you sound. The root beer shouldn’t have hit you this hard. “I mean look at him, he’s Bang Chan. I’m pretty sure those girls from Beauxbatons have been eyeing him up and down since the Tournament.” 

Jeongin lets out a huff of laughter in disbelief. “Are you even hearing yourself right now?”

“One of you guys could have asked me. Or I should have paid Jisung to be my partner yesterday. I just, I don’t know, what am I saying? I’m confused.”

Your friend is officially done with your bullshit so he decides for himself that he will now set down his food to make your first and last Yule Ball arguably unforgettable. “Honestly? I can lie and say I would dance with you if you weren’t so full of pride. But truth is, none of us asked you to dance because we all know how badly Chan wants this opportunity. Wake the fuck up! He’s been planning this since forever. I’ll go look for him, wait here,” he points a finger at you before running off, leaving your heartbeat pause awkwardly like a broken record. 

The ballroom feels significantly colder now. 

“Miss Y/N?”

Ah, perfect timing. What’s another way to phrase ‘being an absolute idiot at a ball’? Oh right, it’s ‘talking to your professor five minutes before the first dance while your friends are socializing left and right’. 

“Yes, Headmistress McGonagall?”

Your professor peers around when she realizes that you’re all alone. “Are you and Mister Bang ready?”

“R-ready?” Suddenly, you feel out of place. 

“Well, of course. It’s only traditional that the three champions start the first dance!”

“Oh.”

two. 

Only the celestial bodies above can know how melancholy you are. But you’re met with a sky without stars tonight. 

With your head on your elbows, lips pressed into a straight line, your gaze falls from the endless canvas of darkness to the hustle and bustle of students leaving the Great Hall to head back to their designated dormitories. A sigh. You definitely don’t need to know what they’re going to do for the after-party. Ryujin used to show you an article on this peculiar machine called ‘a laptop’ that the more you sigh, the faster you age. If Chan keeps doing shit like this to you, you’re gonna be all old and wrinkly by the time he comes here. 

If he is going to show up at all that is. 

The moment you peel your eyes away from the overcrowded main gate, a broad figure is shuffling himself through his drunk Quidditch teammates, sloppy couples, and burnt out professors. He dashes through the empty hallways to reach the spiral staircase, skipping three steps at a time, risking the chances of falling on his face just to get to you. 

Pulling himself to a halt at the last step, Chan sees you all curled up against the balcony railings and feels a pang of guilt wash over his innards like a wave. You’re pulling your legs toward your chest, defeated eyes gazing into the space ahead while your hair falls to your face messily. Like you’ve gone through the depths of the Fourth Dimension, struggling through dark matters and a rite of divinity at the end of the line. All for him. 

You’re beautiful. 

And the amount of affection that’s piling upon his rib cage? Astronomical. 

Your gaze is averted away; even with a slight scowl, sloppy clothes and messed up hair, you still flare radiance. He thinks that if a meteor shower is happening right now, you can still outshine it. “You came,” you mention. 

For once, Chan finds himself at a loss for words. “Y-Yeah,” he manages to swallow. Yeah? What the fuck, Chan? Is that all you’ve got to say? 

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N. Yeji accidentally mistook one of Minho’s potions for her allergy medicine so I gotta take care of that before coming,” he scratches his forearm awkwardly, head hung low with guilt. “I didn’t know it would take that long…”

“Oh.” Wow, jealous stinks. This isn’t pre-school, you’d better snap out of it. “Let’s head back. I wanna check on her before passing out.” 

“She’s fine now, sleeps like death. Chaeryeong is there too, you know, just in case.” Chan feels perplexed as he tries to coax anything but the ‘head back’ option from you. 

You tilt your head. “And...?”

“I’m afraid you owe me something?” A slow smile begins to outstretch upon his facial muscles, deepening the dimples on either side of his cheeks that you adore the most. “A dance, I believe,” he makes a thinking face while striding toward you. 

Coldly, you stand up to dust your dress. “I don’t want to.” You’re not having it, he can tell. But does Bang Chan ever give up? 

“A bet is a bet, Y/N.”

Chan’s hand fishes inside the pocket of his trench coat to take out his wand. His hand delicately gives it a swift flick; once, and twice followed by a low mumble from his lips. Immediately, light pulses from the tip of the wand before shooting upward, disintegrating into a million bits as though a starry night is embracing the both of you. He does the same action again to cast a different spell. Music laces through every fiber of air without effort, like honey being poured into your ears. 

“It’s just one bet,” he pouts with a hand fully extended toward you. 

You should have realized how good Chan looks tonight. A black dress shirt that’s buttoned below appropriate, matching trench coat, silver accessories lining his fingers and ears with naturally tousled hair from running here. He looks so gorgeous that it almost suffocates you, that it almost makes you want to hiss ‘fucking unfair’ out loud. 

Enchanted by his poise and grace, your body reacts without the consent of your mind. You seize up when you unknowingly place your hand on top of his, the touch sending electricity down your spine. A simple response has become all too complicated for your brain to process. 

You grow breathless the moment he grabs you by the waist and pulls you flush against him. “Yeah, a bet so you’ll leave me alone,” you remark sarcastically to ease your nerves. 

“Look, it’s not my fault that the Goblet of Fire chose me to participate in the Tournament,” Chan chuckles lowly, eyes crinkling into crescent moon shapes while he sways you to the soft melody. Dots of light continue to float around weightlessly, reflecting the golden flecks in his eyes. He’s ethereal in the worst way—the way that isn’t healthy for your heart. 

But you soon slap on another scowl when you realize he just reminded you of why you’re even here in the first place. If only you weren’t so salty about Slytherin winning your team over at the final Quidditch match before the holiday occurs. Let’s just say you weren’t exactly in the best mind state after getting your ass kicked in your favorite sport. 

And Chan wasted no time to slip in between the line of comical humor and your ultimate torment. Which results in—if you get to attend the Triwizard Tournament, he will leave you alone for the rest of your life; but if he is the chosen one, he gets a dance with you at the Yule Ball. 

It’s really not all that bad if you think twice about it. Dancing with Bang Chan, the Slytherin’s Quidditch team captain, the student with perfect academics and conduct for six years straight, and now one of the Triwizard Tournament champions this year. 

Music threads through the atmosphere and lifts away gravity. You can’t count how many times you have stepped on his toes due to nervousness because you’re too much of a coward to look him in the eye. But he’s the only thing you can seem to focus on right now. 

“Besides, don’t you think this is a good opportunity to get rid of the tension between us?” Chan asks honestly, and this causes you to perk up. 

“What?”

Lights are twinkling with every step as Chan spins you around gently, your dress billowing out prettily as your heels click against the cold concrete. After that, he swiftly pulls you back into his arms and you exhale in relief like you were meant to be there all this time. 

“Don’t act dumb, you’re terrible at it. I know the only reason why you’ve been avoiding me since first year was because of our families’ stupid grudge. ”

Your eyes are cast downward, sadness glinting in your round pupils. “Either way, my parents wouldn’t like to see me talking to you. And look at what we’re doing. It’s going to be catastrophic if they find out.”

“Well, they can’t just magically appear now, can they?” Chan leans a little closer to lock his eyes with yours. 

And you break it seconds later because you’re an absolute coward for a Gryffindor. “We’re attending a magic school. Anything is possible.”

“Did they even tell you what the actual problem was in the first place?” he huffs out in faint annoyance. 

You shake your head. “I don’t think they’d even remember.”

“Then would you stop giving me that look as if I just shooed your owl way every time I said ‘hi’ on my way to class? Have you ever thought about my feelings? About us being civil for once? Like friends? Or even more so?”

“I-“ 

“We’re not our parents, Y/N.”

Your heart becomes all erratic at his words. It’s nothing like those fully-fledged, tear-jerking nor cheesyass confessions that you’ve gawked at one too many times, but it makes your heart flutter and stirs up those cliché butterflies inside your stomach. This can’t be compared to the Yule Ball—it’s even better than that. Because it feels as though you and Chan are the only presences that graze the surface of this land. There’s no one to judge, no fingers to point, no gossip spreading like wildfire. 

It’s perfect. Almost. 

“Us...it’s not- it can’t happen. It’s not supposed to happen. It’s not possible, Chan.”

Wordlessly, he stops, moves both of your hands to his shoulders, and wraps his arms around your torso. The sound of your heartbeat against his is so in sync they just drown out the music completely. Time is frozen in place, leaving you to hang on the edge with him, hanging onto this single moment as thin as the red string of fate. You’re waiting for him to do something, say something. 

Just then, Chan cracks a wry smile and pulls you closer by the nape of your neck, resting his forehead comfortably on yours. “We’re attending a magic school. Anything is possible.”

#inkidz #skzwritersclub #stray kids #bang chan #stray kids imagines #bang chan imagines #stray kids scenarios #bang chan scenarios #bang chan fanfic #bang chan fluff #stray kids hogwarts au #chan imagines #chan scenarios #skz x reader #chan x reader #lee minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin

[milkybonya]

hello smiling anon here :) can i request nct 127 as boyfriends? ur astro as boyfriends post was so cute :)

Anonnie im sorry i made you wait so long TT this is the busiest week of the year so far and i had to stay focused to prepare for it, but i hope you enjoy~

NCT 127 as boyfriends ♡

link to Astro version

Warnings: food mentions

what i listened to while writing: To My Youth by BOL4

Taeil

sweet to the MAX

always singing around the house and serenading you

multiple movie nights with you in one week where you eat a whole bunch of junk food together and cuddle the entire time ;3;

becomes flustered very easily when you reach for his hand or hug him because he doesn't like skinship

but strangely with you, his heart skips a beat??

helps you when you're stressed by enveloping you in a hug and not letting go until you feel better

not overly clingy but not distant either - he's the perfect bf !!

knows when to give you space and when he needs to invade your space and give you lots of kisses >:)

not big on fancy dates, just wants to bask in your presence

wherever he is, as long as you're there, he's happy

i don't know why but i imagine his hand getting clammy when you hold it because he's so nervous,, then he gets all shy and embarrassed about it :")

Johnny

always taking photos of you

literally has a folder in his phone named '[y/n]'

so whipped for you omg he literally giggles any time you lock eyes

so EMBARRASSING cause of all the bad jokes he cracks and how tough he tries to act

"[y/n] do you wanna feel my arm muscles?"

waking up next to him each morning would involve you thinking he’s asleep and staring at him until he pulls you closer into his chest and presses his lips to your forehead ;3;

takes you on really creative dates like going to markets, going for drives, walks through unknown paths

if y’all are not seeing each other in person, he’ll constantly be texting or calling you

always sends you photos of things that remind him of you

the type to pretend he’ll give you your coat, then he doesn’t, but then he does because he loves you :”)

quite clingy in the sense that he always wants to be near you, holding your hand, hugging you, kissing you, whatever it may be

Taeyong

such a sweet and loving bf :”)

the type to buy you flowers and be that classy, romantic boyfriend

he’ll leave handwritten notes around the house and will send you good morning texts if you guys are apart from one another

the two of you are definitely the cool couple

but you’re also the couple who laughs hard about the most random things

like Taeil, knows when to give you space and when he should be there for you

will respect your sense of independence and root for you to succeed in your own things!

but also gets clingy sometimes and just wants a few hugs and kisses :”)

acts cute and pouts in front of you a lot 

but only in front of you, never in public or in front of anyone else

listens carefully whenever you’re sad and lets you rest your head on his shoulder, cry all over him - he lets you do whatever you need to do to be happy again, and he’ll try his best to cheer you up too :D

Yuta

loves reading with you, it’s one of his favourite things to do :”)

sometimes just ends up staring at you which leads to him pulling you towards him which leads to cuddling while reading and for him to kiss the top of your head an infinite amount of times

omg he will let you braid his hair or play with it or do all kinds of things to it

painting each other’s nails !! and searching for unique accessories in stores!

he’ll just buy an accessory and give it to you like “i just know this will look good on you, please try it on!”

i feel like he’ll be very honest with you about everything

so you both have nights when you talk for hours about your thoughts

and in the morning forget all about it by watching something while in bed hehe

will like exercising with you from time to time so you both stay healthy!

always thinking about you and your health, both mental and physical

you might be able to convince him to get a couple outfit :o

Doyoung

Like Johnny, likes taking photos of you but does it a bit more shyly

puts on a cool front all the time but he’s quite shy ;-;

loves to bake with you and actually takes it quite seriously

he’ll chase you around if you smudge batter on his face >:)

makes home dates fancy by lighting so many scented candles that the smell actually becomes unbearable

when you go on walks together, he’ll hide behind you every time he sees a dog, and you always have to apologize to the dog owners on his behalf because he’s scared :”D

likes to lie on top of you when you cuddle, with his weight on his legs which are on either side of you so he’s not crushing you, just so he can trace the shape of your face with his fingertips

if you cry, he cries and if you laugh, he’ll laugh - i feel like that’s how he’ll comfort you, by empathizing :”)

likes to go on car rides with you where the two of you are just singing songs 

always makes sure you’re eating your meals and staying hydrated - brings you food if you’re busy or forget

gets you really thoughtful gifts for special days but also throws a few meme gifts in there

Jaehyun

that bf who invites you to watch him play basketball just so he can take off his shirt in the middle of the game and watch as your face turns red

i feel like he’ll tease you in that ^ way a lot - he’s always trying to fluster you

he likes peaches so imagine going peach picking with him !! you’ll take such cute photos together and if he’s taller than you, he’ll pick all the peaches that you can’t ;3;

always trying to cheer you up whenever you’re sad - why can i picture him doing aegyo TT

this one time it rained when you were on a late night walk with him and he took off his jean jacket, held it above your heads as you ran home, but you ended up wet anyway :”)

super comforting whenever you’re sick or don’t feel good

constantly complimenting you and shows you lots of physical affection

always hugs you when he sleeps because if you’re not there, he’d just be hugging the blanket instead

not incredibly sentimental but always tries his best to show his love for you

tried to make breakfast in bed for you and dropped a whole bunch of cutlery on the floor :D

went through your phone and saved his name as ‘peach’ in it

Winwin

(this is from WayV as boyfriends, that’s why it looks a little different <3)

SOFT ANGEL

SOFT SOFT SOFT

did i mention he’s soft?

always worried about you 

genuinely cares about your feelings

a lot of “are you okay?” and “you’re not mad at me, right?”

if you’re ever in a bad mood, he’ll run to the store real quick and grab your favourite food for you

A LOT OF CUDDLES AND LAZY MORNINGS

he doesn’t like skinship but loves to hold you :’)

too shy to show affection in public tho

will hold your hand at the most

even if he does that, he’ll hold your hand in your pocket because he’s so shy

pls protecc him at all costs

is willing to do anything for you

sometimes you have to ask him how he genuinely feels about something

because he can’t say no :(

please make sure you tell him you love him regularly, or he’ll be sad :(

a lot of stay-at-home dates like watching movies

watchiNG ANIME (if you like it, of course)

“let’s just do whatever you want”

wiLL CRUSH YOU IN MOBILE GAMES

“i beat you! now give me a kiss >:)”

Jungwoo

if you also like to eat, y’all will have the most epic food dates omg

literally travelling to countries just to try the food there - that’s what it will be like

most of your dates involve food, but also a lot of walking dates so you can burn it off :”)

yet also many movie nights on the days where you don’t want to walk

he’ll learn your speaking habits and will imitate you whenever you get annoyed or angry 

likes to play soccer with you, even if you’re bad at it (so he can tease you), but if you’re good then he’ll enjoy trying to beat you

he’s the one who roasts you the most yet also cares for you the most

likes to kiss your neck because he can smell your natural scent, but if you hate it then he’ll do it to tease you or he’ll stop if you seriously tell him to

imitates kdrama male actors and actually makes your heart flutter by doing those things

and when you see the actors kissing in a drama,,,, you already know what he’s about to do

when you’re upset, he’ll hug you tightly and stay with you until you feel better

Mark

y’all have a shared playlist that you always add songs to so you can listen to it during car rides or when cuddling 

he keeps everything and anything you give him, whether it be a candy wrapper, flowers, a belt, shoes, anything

prepares really sweet gifts for you - a lot of songs or meaningful things

claims that you’re his muse and sometimes just stares at you for 5 minutes whenever you drop by his studio

“you’re my sun, i’m photosynthesizing so just stay right there”

he’s shy and gets flustered easily when you kiss or hug him, even when you just hold his hand

you have a tradition with him each fall where you go to a park, gather all the leaves to make a pile so you can dive into it

usually ends with you falling on top of him and the two of you just laying there for a long time

voice calls that last for more than 8 hours will become a thing when you date him :”)

always jokes about things related to marriage like ‘wow imagine if we had our wedding here’ and laughs awkwardly but he’d actually love to marry you 

takes you on trips that he claims are for him to get inspiration for music writing but he really just wants to spend time with you

Haechan

you already know what you’ve signed up for, right? chaos, absolute chaos - but in the best way

super clingy, always holding onto your arm or hand

whines when you don’t give him hugs or attention

bought a big plushie that reminded him of you so he can hug it when you’re not there and he misses you

he’s such a baby omg he’ll love being babied by you

makes hand crafted, diy gifts that clearly have his entire heart and soul in them

likes singing karaoke songs with you because if too you’re shy to sing alone, at least when he sings with you, he can hear a bit of your voice

cannot live if you’re sad or upset - he’ll do anything to help you feel better

cuddling is his favourite thing on this planet and he’ll wrap his legs around you so the two of you become an entangled mess, yet somehow are still comfortable

texts you random things like ‘i just saw a dog’ but also says stuff like that out loud to you

acts strong and cool sometimes like when you’re watching horror movies but fails miserably :(

ah, have you made it to the bottom? thank you for reading <3 were you by any chance looking for a sign? because this is it, this is your sign. i wish you luck with whatever it is that you must or must not do ;3;

#nct 127 #nct #nct headcannons #nct 127 headcannons #nct reactions #nct 127 reactions #mark lee #taeyong #haechan #lee donghyuck #jungwoo #doyoung #taeil #yuta #jaehyun #johnny #johnny suh #johnny seo #johnny x reader #jung jaehyun #nct jungwoo #doyoung scenario #doyoung imagine #nct doyoung #nct yuta #nct johnny #nct jaehyun #taeil imagine #taeil fluff #taeyong scenario

[isitgintimeyet]

Just A Friend

Previous

AO3

Another Sunday, another chapter. Hope it’s a good weekend for you all, despite these uncertain times. I always intended this story to be a bit of fluffy light relief from the real world. Thanks for all the support for it.

There will probably be another 3 chapters after this, depending on how the characters behave. I cant seem to make them do what I want sometimes!

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta

Chapter 11: From Marriage to Mackenzie

It’s 1pm and I’m in a hotel room, still in a bathrobe, sipping Buck’s Fizz whilst a hairdresser wrestles with my wayward curls, finally managing to corral them into some sort of recognisable hair style.

Geillis is sitting on the edge of the bed incongruously dressed in tiara and bathrobe, her hair arranged in an elaborate updo. I catch her eye through the dressing table mirror and smile before my vision is obscured by a miasma of hairspray.

A few final tweaks of my curls and it’s done. I am just amazed that my hair can be cajoled into such glossy, bouncy curls, held behind one ear by an ornately decorated comb. With suitable compliments and thanks, Geillis and I bid goodbye to the hairdresser.

The bride stands up and adjusts the belt of her robe. She seems the epitome of calm.

“Are you not nervous, Geillis? You’ll be walking down the aisle in about an hour’s time.”

“Weel, I am a wee bit worried about a couple of things,” she admits. “I dinna ken how ma cousin Janie will behave. She may try tae proposition every man under the age of seventy five. And as fer Dougal’s Uncle Eric—he has been known tae get steamin’ drunk and puke in the rose beds. But about the marrying? Nah, I dinna have any nerves about that. I want tae spend ma life wi’ Dougal and that’s what today is all about. I have nae worries about making that commitment. He’s the one fer me. When ye ken, ye ken. Trust me, Claire.”

The pocket of her bathrobe begins to buzz. She quickly pulls out her phone and reads the message.

“I’d best go. That was Mam, fretting about something or other. Are ye ok getting dressed on yer own?”

“I’ve managed for the past twenty nine years or so. I dare say I can manage another day.” I sigh theatrically.

“I ken. Ye can manage on yer own. Ye always do. But thanks fer being here with me today. It means a lot tae have the people who mean the most tae me around,” she leans over and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “But remember what I said, Claire, when ye ken, ye ken. Dinna ignore it.”

Pausing at the interconnecting doorway, she does a quick body shimmy and grins. “Woo hoo! I’m getting married. Canna believe it’s here now,”

From the adjoining room, I can hear a shouted response. “Geillis Duncan, ye get here now. Yer mam reckons that makeup lassie has done her eyeliner wonky. It looks fine tae me. Can ye come and talk some sense in tae the daft cow?”

“Alright, Da, I’m coming.” Geillis yells back before leaving to deal with her parents.

I sit down and study my bridesmaid’s dress, now hanging on the wardrobe door. I’m getting excited about the day ahead. Probably not as much as Geillis, obviously, but a host of butterflies appears to have taken residence in the pit of my stomach.

I’m truly thrilled for Geillis to be marrying Dougal—they love each other so much. But, also, it’s scary to me. She is willing, eager even, to commit to one person, to base her future life, her future happiness on one man. If they should ever leave…well, I’m not sure I’d be able to cope with that. If you love too hard, you can hurt too much. Trust me on that, I know. People leave you. Don’t give your heart to anyone, keep it hidden away, protected…intact.

The ping from my phone diverts me from this somber train of thought.

I’m downstairs at the hotel. Can you come and say hello?

I quickly type:

Come up to the 2nd floor. I’ll meet you by the lift.

Making sure the keycard is in my pocket, I slip my feet into the hotel’s complimentary slippers and shuffle out to meet Jamie.

I’m already waiting as the lift door opens and he emerges. My first thought is oh wow, as is my second...and third. He has made an effort for this wedding, and it’s certainly paid off. Eschewing the more formal Prince Charlie style, he’s wearing a charcoal grey jacket and waistcoat, perfectly matching the grey in his kilt. A crisp white shirt and burgundy tie complement the secondary colours in the tartan. His sporran is black leather, heavily etched or embossed. I can’t quite make out the detail. Then I feel myself blush as I realise I have been clearly staring at his...er, lower body. I look up quickly.

Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to have noticed. He looks me up and down and smiles. “Nice outfit,” he comments drily. “Is the bride wearing white towelling too? What’s the theme? Salon chic?”And is that part of the design?” He points to an orange stain on the front of my robe. I pull a face and tie the belt tighter, trying to tuck the offending piece of material out of sight.

“Must have spilled a drop of my Buck’s Fizz.”

“Drinking already? Dinna be staggering down the aisle.”

He reaches out towards my hair and pauses for a second before making a random circular motion with his hand. “And this…I like yer hair. It’s verra…verra…” he searches for the word. “... asymmetric.”

“Thank you,” I hold the ‘skirt’ of my robe and bob a little curtsy. “That’s totally what we were going for—asymmetric.”

He laughs. “Nah, seriously. Yer hair and yer makeup look grand. I’m sure ye’ll look lovely in yer dress.”

I gesture to my room. “I’d best finish getting ready.”

“Aye, I’ll see ye downstairs.” He presses the button for the lift.

“By the way, you look grand too.” I try to say it in an understated way. It’s true, but I don’t want him to read anything into the statement.

The lift arrives and he steps inside. As the doors close, he fires a parting shot. “Especially the sporran, eh?”

*********

Now in my bridesmaid’s dress, I practice a couple of pirouettes in front of the mirror before hearing a quick knock on the door to the adjoining room.

“Ye ready, Claire? Mam’s jes’ gone down. Only us three left.”

I walk through to the other room to be met by a riot of open suitcases, bags and boxes. A variety of towels, dressing gowns and footwear seem to be carpeting the floor.

“‘S ok,” Geillis’ voice comes from behind me. “It’s no’ ma problem. I’m no’ sleeping here tonight. I’ll be in the bridal suite. This’ll be Mam and Dad’s room.”

I turn to see my best friend now fully dressed and ready. Her father is hovering next to her, clad in kilt and full formal regalia. I always knew she would win that battle.

As beautiful as she looks, the thing that really strikes me is the way her father is watching her, with such love and pride. She returns his gaze and brings her forehead to rest against his cheek.

I swallow hard, fighting the desire to shed a tear. It’s such a precious image, so intimate, but also, I realise that, since Lamb died, I have nobody, no father figure, to share something like this. I feel a momentary pang of, not jealousy, but a feeling of regret over an emotion that I will never get to experience.

And then, just like that, the moment passes.

It always does.

Geillis passes me a creamy white posy tied with a simple ribbon and gathers up her bouquet of peonies, roses and fragrant eucalyptus.

“OK,” she takes a deep breath and breaks into a huge grin. “I think I’m late enough tae get Dougal jes’ a wee bit nervous. Time tae roll.”

*******

The hotel’s orangery provides a perfect setting for the wedding ceremony. Softly diffused sunlight filters through the white muslin drapes at the large windows. A slight breeze wafts the fabric gently, giving tantalising glimpses of the formal gardens outside.

At the end of the room, Dougal and Angus stand beside a large arch of succulent green foliage, staring straight ahead as Geillis and her father begin the procession down the aisle with me following.

Even before he turns to look, I can spot Jamie — his auburn curls are head and shoulders above those around him. He stays still at first, but as we draw near he turns around and grins before doing his funny blink, screwing up his face and closing both eyes, which I have learnt, is Jamie’s attempt at a wink. I return his smile before focussing on the arch getting ever closer.

Dougal appears rooted to the spot, but Angus turns around and watches for a moment before giving me a perfectly executed wink. I smile politely even as I shudder inwardly. The sheer self confidence of that man is beyond belief. Then he disappears from my thoughts as Geillis reaches the arch and passes me her bouquet to hold. The joy on her and Dougal’s faces as they prepare to make their vows is wonderful and I’m so happy to be a part of it all.

***************

They say the sun shines on the righteous. Well, Geillis and Dougal must be exceptionally good, as it’s a perfect summer afternoon. It’s beautifully warm, but not too hot, as all the guests mingle in the gardens, admiring the beautiful surroundings whilst drinking chilled champagne.

The photographer has finished with the formal photographs, so I’m allowed to relax and enjoy a glass or two. I can still spot him wandering around, ready to take more natural, candid shots of the proceedings but nobody seems to mind.

I was initially worried about inviting Jamie to the wedding for a couple of reasons. The first was my friends. Of course, my friends are great, but Anna and Mary can sometimes have an issue with boundaries and I had visions of the ‘conversations’ they might try to have with Jamie — ‘nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition’ unless Anna and Mary are around.

The second reason was that Jamie would literally know only one person at this wedding —me. And that, when I was off doing official ‘wedding stuff’, he would be on his own, billy-no-mates. But, as I look around, I realise I had absolutely nothing to worry about on that score. He has the knack, it seems, to get on with everyone.

At the moment he’s talking to Geillis’s father, laughing and joking like they’re old friends. He notices me looking at him, lifts his empty glass up and points to me. I hold my glass up and nod. He excuses himself and strolls towards the bar.

There’s a slight touch on my elbow. “Hello, dear.”

I draw my attention to the old lady standing next to me—Geillis’ great aunt Frances. I’ve met her on a couple of occasions before and have always enjoyed her company. She’s a straight talker and makes no bones about it. “When ye get tae my age,” I remember her commenting to me “ye dinna have time tae beat about the bush, ye need tae say what ye think.” I like that in a person.

“Hello, how nice to see you.”

“Ye too,dear. I must say ye’re looking awfa bonnie in that dress. It’s a fine colour on ye.”

“Thank you. And you’re looking lovely yourself.”

Frances makes a self deprecating ‘hmph’ sound, dismissing my compliment with a wave of her hand. “Away wi’ ye. Ye do yer best wi’ what ye’ve still got. Which isna much in ma case.”

I shake my head. “Not at—“

But she decides to change the subject and moves on with her next question. “Is that yer young man over there?” She points at Jamie, heading towards us with two glasses of champagne. “He’s a handsome chap, is he no’? Mind ye, that’s no more than ye deserve. Sae, mebbe ye’ll be next?”

“No, we—“

I have no chance to say anything more, before Jamie is by my side and handing me one of the glasses. I take a sip as he notices that Frances has no drink and, without hesitation, he passes the second glass to her.

“Aren’t ye kind… er?” She accepts gratefully.

“Jamie.”

“Weel, Jamie, let me tell ye. It’s been a long while since a good looking young man has brought me a drink. I should make the most of it. Anyway, I was jes’ saying tae our Claire here, how bonnie she looks today. Does she no’?”

She fixes her gaze on Jamie, demanding an answer.

“Aye, she looks lovely.” His eyes meet mine for a second, before I look away and try to change the subject.

“Don’t you think Geillis looks beautiful, Frances?”

But, it seems that Frances has one line of conversation that she is keen to pursue. “Oh aye, she does. But, Jamie, I was jes’ saying tae Claire that mebbe she’ll be next. What d’ye think?”

Fortunately, I’m spared any response as a gong sounds and the maître d’ announces that dinner is served and that everyone should make their way inside to the dining room.

****************

Having narrowly avoided any embarrassment, I am somewhat apprehensive to see Frances at our table. Fortunately, Geillis’ cousin and baby are enough to divert her attention away from any matrimonial prospects that may or may not be on my horizon.

With Jamie sitting by my side, I catch him up on all the behind the scenes activity of my day and we fall into our pattern of easy conversation and gentle banter. From time to time, I can see Frances, opposite, watching us with a look of approval on her face, but she says nothing.

Once the speeches and toasts are over, there’s a palpable change in the guests. Jackets are draped over chair backs, sleeves rolled up and waistcoat buttons undone. I can spot more than one woman moving awkwardly in her chair, struggling to locate the shoes that were eased off out of sight under the table. Cheeks become flushed with an abundance of rich food and tongues become looser with a surfeit of fine wine.

I sip my whisky, savouring its peaty smokiness. Jamie is in a serious rugby related conversation with his neighbour. A rustle of fabric behind me announces the arrival of the bride, a look of frustration on her face.

She greets the table politely before whispering “Can I borrow ye, Claire?”

I make my excuses and follow her into a quieter room.

“What’s up, Geillis? Is everything alright?” I’m concerned that there’s something genuinely wrong.

“It’s his bloody family,” she hisses. “The Mackenzies, if ye give them an inch, they’ll take a fuckin’ mile.”

She takes a deep breath and continues. “Dougal invited his second cousin Gary and his wife tae our evening do. Jes’ the two of them mind. Sae they turn up an hour and a half early and try tae cadge dessert and brandies from the waiters.”

“Where are they now?”

“Och, they’re sitting outside wi’ a couple of spare bottles of wine.” She gestures angrily to the gardens visible through the window. “And they’ll be first in the queue fer the buffet this evening, nae doubt. And what's more, they took it upon themselves tae bring their three bairns too. Weel, I say bairns, but they’re all in their twenties so it’s no’ as if they dinna have a babysitter.”

She finally sits down and lets her shoulders relax.

I take her hand and try to look serious. If this is the worst thing that happens today, that’s not so bad. Although clearly, in Geillis’ eyes, this is a catastrophe. “It’s not going to spoil anything really is it? They didn’t gatecrash the meal or the speeches,” I speak in a soothing tone. “Are you ok now?”

She nods. “Happen ye’re right. I jes’ wanted tae get it off ma chest. And I kent what I was getting in tae wi’ his family. But tae drag Gregory, Alicia and Laoghaire uninvited wi’ them jes’ pisses me off.”

I stare at her. “Laoghaire? Laoghaire Mackenzie?”

“Aye, that’s right. Unusual name, is it no’? Ye dinna find many of them around—thank god.”

[emotionally-imbruised]

Santa Tell Me

“Don’t make me fall in love again if he won’t be here next year.” ❆

A/N: Oh wow, she actually wrote something. Who is she? HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE.

Word Count: 7k

A cool breeze drifted across the room, causing goosebumps to rise on Y/N’s exposed skin as she instinctively cuddled up against the warm body lying next to her. She tried to fall back asleep, but unfortunately, her thoughts refused such a luxury as she began thinking of how this really was the last place she should be.

She didn’t mean to spend the night, but after a few glasses of wine and a deep conversation instead of paying attention to the Christmas movie that played in the background, she was a bit more welcoming to the way Harry’s hand rested on her thigh; rubbing soft circles with his thumb before eventually leaning in to catch her lips with his. And she let him! God, why did she let him?

Y/N’s relationship with Harry was complicated, to say the least. The two of them have been friends for quite some time, however, things became a little difficult roughly a year and a half ago when they began sleeping with each other.

It started off casual, there were no strings attached whatsoever. The two of them were just good friends and single. One fateful night when she and Harry had gone out, he ended up at her apartment, with minimal clothing, and the rest was history. Well, kind of.

She wasn’t expecting to sleep with him for a second time after that… or a third… and most definitely not a fourth; but the universe has a funny way of working sometimes and soon enough, hers and Harry’s little arrangement became a rather common occurrence.

It was great, for a while. Although the two of them were quite literally just fuck-buddies, neither of them tried to really change the situation because they were both content with it. There was no labeling of what their relationship had become. They were both exclusively sleeping with one another, their friends were somewhat aware of what was going on but tended to stay out of it, and it just worked.

But then Y/N caught feelings.

She hated how easy it was to fall for Harry back then with his stupid smile and magnetic personality, but it was just so hard to avoid.  Especially seeing how being intimate with him seemingly brought out the significant feelings she felt towards him, regardless of how hard she tried to keep them hidden. But the thing was, it was almost as if Harry had caught feelings as well.

He was the one to address what happened after the first time the two of them slept together, even going as far as to blatantly say that he wouldn’t mind if it happened again. It was also him that hinted at Y/N being the only person he was seeing. He was still the kind, funny, sweet Harry that she knew and loved dearly as a friend; but this brought a whole new meaning to their relationship and they weren’t aware of how complicated things were bound to get.

Last Christmas was when everything started to fall apart. Y/N fell so hard for him and based on his very affectionate actions towards her, even when they weren’t just shagging, gave her the impression that he might’ve felt the same way. But for whatever reason, they were both too chicken to admit that they wanted more.

She had finally mustered up the courage to tell Harry that she loved him; but on Christmas Eve when she planned on actually telling him this, she never got the chance to do so.

He stood her up, to put it simply. The two of them had plans to go to a Christmas market together and while they were out, Y/N decided that she was going to tell Harry how she felt. She was pretty sure he knew about her feelings too and that made it even more nerve-wracking. However, after she arrived and waited for him for over half an hour without a text to say where he was, she went home and didn’t hear from him again.

The following day, all Y/N received was the obligatory Merry Christmas texts friends send to one another. Harry didn’t explain why he didn’t show, didn’t give any indication that he wanted to see her again over the holiday season, and she was too hurt to ask why. So, she let it be.

Then he jetted off to Japan and soon was caught up in the whirlwind of what it meant to be a celebrity. Which was fine. As his friend, she still rooted for him in everything he did, despite how stupid she felt for falling for one of her best friends.

The year came and went fairly quickly, and it was a rather significant one for Harry. Having co-hosted the met gala and putting the final touches on and beginning promo for his second album, it was no wonder he was so busy all of the time. Y/N was busy too, having immersed herself into work while trying to pan out what her future entailed and where she would end up.

Throughout the year, both Y/N and Harry remained in touch, which they were both extremely thankful for because of how they were such good friends, to begin with. What happened last year at Christmas was never addressed, and was kind of just dropped. Almost as if it didn’t happen. But then one night when Harry was back in London a few months ago, all of that changed.

She hooked up with him… again… and it soon began somewhat of a regular occurrence all over again. But this time she was careful. Y/N didn’t want to get hurt like last year because those feelings she had never really gone away, so she was a bit more hesitant on how often the two of them would shag.

Instead, she focused on hanging out and catching up with her friend because she really missed him this year with how busy he was; and luckily for her, Harry was seemingly ok with that.

However, that didn’t mean there wasn’t the odd slip up where one of them ended up in the others bed every once in a while... Kind of like what happened last night.

Harry was still dead asleep beside her, and Y/N’s want to just dip and never speak of this again was very prominent. There were only a few days left until Christmas and she needed to go into work that afternoon to finish up some last-minute things before she was off for the holidays, but leaving the nice warmth of Harry’s bed was proving to be rather difficult.

After a moment of consideration, she decided that she should use this time to escape. It would mean avoiding Harry, but she was pretty ok with that because no, she didn’t want to talk about what happened and as of late, it seemed like Harry has.

Letting out a sigh, she untangled herself from the sleepy hold Harry had around her waist and got out of the bed. She bit down on her lip as she took in the clothes skewed around the room before making a dash for the en-suite. If she showered at Harry’s, all she would have to do is run home and change before going into work. It was bound to save her some time, so she decided on that and stealing some over Harry’s oversized clothing instead of putting the previous night's outfit back on.

When Y/N took a look at herself in the large mirror above the vanity, a disgusted noise left her mouth. She looked rough, and the want to shower grew even more.

She quickly moved to the small cabinet and grabbed one of the large fluffy towels that resides within it so that she could wrap it around herself before brushing her teeth.

Yes, she had her own toothbrush at Harry’s. He had one at her flat too. It was something the two of them started years ago and just never weaned itself out. Whenever one bought a new toothbrush, they’d buy the other one too and put it in its respective place for them to use the next time they were over.

As Y/N ran some warm water over the brush before putting some toothpaste on it, she didn’t notice the presence of another being sneaking up behind her until she looked back at the mirror and locked eye contact with them.

“Holy shit!” She jumped, almost dropping her toothbrush in the process. “What the hell, Harry?”

“G’morning to you too,” he responded, sleep still lacing his voice as he walked up to the vanity to stand next to her.

He didn’t say anything else, just reached for his toothbrush and began brushing his teeth as if nothing happened. The two stood next to each awkwardly, each glancing at the other every once in a while and Y/N hated it. It was as though there was this huge elephant in the room separating them even though there was really only a couple of inches between them. So, as she finished rinsing off her toothbrush and waited for Harry to do the same, she slowly began stepping away from the vanity.

“I uh, I’m just going to take a shower if that’s alright? Then I’ll be out of your hair.”

He nodded in understanding before glancing I’m towards the door and biting down on his lip as if contemplating what he was going to say next. “You know you don’t have to leave, right?”

“What? Er- I, well.” His response caught her completely off guard and she wasn’t too sure how to respond. After a brief moment, she was able to recollect herself. “No, I do. I uhm, I have to go into work to finish up a few things before we’re closed for the holidays. Just a quick shower and then I’ll be on my way.”

Harry knew what she was doing, knew that she was trying to not discuss what happened between them the night before and avoid him as much as possible as a way to do so. He thought of a way to approach it but settled on just messing with her a little bit instead.

“Ok, I need to shower too.”

Without another word, he walked over to the large glass shower and reached in to turn the water on.

It didn’t take long for the warmth of the running water to create a steam-filled room and once Harry was done gathering a towel for himself, he finally made eye contact with Y/N from where she was standing in front of the mirror gawking at him in the reflection. A small chuckle escaped his mouth before he started removing the track pants he wore, all while not looking away; as if silently taunting her.

“I know what you’re doing and it’s not going to work,” she stated as she spun around to face him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, love,” he replied innocently as he wrapped the towel around his waist before ridding himself of his boxers and stepping towards her.

“You’re trying to get me to shower with you.”

“M’trying to save on my hydro bill this month actually, but that doesn’t sound too bad either.”

She couldn’t think of a way to respond as he finally reached her, and gently linked their hands together. Harry was well aware that if he were to lead, she would follow. It worked both ways with them, seeing as he knew damn well of the lengths he would go for her... but it wasn’t the time to discuss that yet. He just wanted to be with her for a little while longer, so when he started walking towards the shower with her in tow, he decided that he’d use his time very wisely.

Once their towels were removed and they were under the warm running water of the shower, very few words were spoken between the two. Y/N wasted no time in being the first to wet her hair and start washing it, eventually switching places with Harry so that he could do the same.

Both would have been lying if they said there wasn’t an intense amount of sexual tension as their bodies brushed against each other with each movement, which Y/N tried greatly to ignore. She needed to get clean and leave; already feeling stupid enough to fall for his antics and join him in the shower at all but also very much so not wanting to change anything about her current predicament.

As she finished rinsing the conditioner from her hair and went to step out from under the water, her back came in contact with a sturdy force that she knew could be nothing other than Harry. Immediately, she turned around to face him. With the way he looked down at her, eyes sleepy and seductive, she knew that him standing that close was intentional, but still couldn’t help the tiny yelp that left her mouth as he leaned down to crash his lips against hers.

Her back soon came in contact with the cool tile wall the shower head was mounted on. That in contrast with the warm water that still poured on her and Harry, along with the firm grip he had on her waist, was all rather exhilarating. It didn’t take long for her to melt into the kiss, opening her mouth to allow him further access and tangling her hands into his hair.

Y/N smiled when he moaned against her mouth as a result of her tugging slightly on his dampened curls, feeling proud of herself for being able to get him as worked up as he manages to get her. His hands then began roaming, spending some time massaging each of her breasts before leaving a tingling trail of sparks as he moved them down to where she was throbbing to feel him.

“Harry-,” she gasped before he could do anything else, causing him to freeze. He leaned against her slightly and she felt his length against her. Felt just how hard he was with anticipation and although part of her wanted to reach down and help with that, her mind screamed at her not to as thoughts of what occurred a year ago started flooding her mind again. “Fuck, what are we doing?”

“M’not sure I know what you mean,” he mumbled before leaning down to latch his mouth and that sweet spot in the crook of her neck he knew would have her seeing stars. His hand then reached down to where she was basically dripping for him and rubbed a harsh circle on her oh-so-sensitive bud with his middle and ring fingers. Her knees buckled as she gripped onto him even more, and he made no effort to hide the smug grin he wore as he moved back to get a better look at her. “Seems like you’re enjoying whatever it is we’re doing.”

“I- I am,” she stuttered as his fingers continued their work and another gasp left her mouth just as his lips met hers hungrily.

“Then what’s the problem?”

She moaned against his mouth and felt herself fading into his touch again, loving him and how he made her feel. Then her eyes widened in panic as she realized what she just internally admitted to herself and began pushing him away.

“No, no. We can’t keep doing this,” she stated as she created enough space between the two of them so that she could worm herself around him and exit the shower.

“Y/N, wait,” he followed after her, only to be met with a towel coming in contact with his face after she chucked it in his direction.

“No, Harry! Last night shouldn’t have happened and neither should have the times before… I can’t keep being with you like this, not after what happened last year. I refuse.” Her voice cracked slightly at the last part of her statement as she worked on wrapping herself up in a towel again before turning to face him; eyes widening as she took in his still naked form. “For fuck's sake, please put on the towel would you?”

He fumbled with the item while reaching into the shower and shutting off the water before finally wrapping it around his waist, and stepping towards her. “Ok, ok. I, fuck, I don’t even know where to start Y/N. Please just stay and we can talk about this. All of it. We can talk about us…”

“There is no us, H,” she replied and Harry was sure he saw tears threatening to form in her eyes as she looked at him. “You ruined that last year when you just up and left without an explanation.”

“If you’d let me explain, I would be more than happy to,” he argued; becoming frustrated with how stubborn she was being.

“No, I have to go. I need to borrow some clothes to wear to my place so I can put something on for work. I’ll get them back to you somehow.”

“But-,” he wanted to try and reason with her but there was no point because in the next moment, she was rushing out of the bathroom and Harry knew better than to go after her.

Walking into the office, Y/N tried to avoid eye contact with her co-workers. It’s not that she didn’t get along with any of them, but her hair was still damp from the shower she just had and she very much so looked like she was coming from a place she shouldn’t have been.

She was overly frustrated with herself for staying at Harry’s longer than planned because, on top of everything that just happened between the two of them, she now had the attention of everyone in the office as she shamefully made a beeline for her desk. As much as she hated the thought, she knew she’d get grilled sooner rather than later.

“You look rough,” stated Candace, a fellow journalist and by far the best friend Y/N had made since starting work in that particular office.

“I really don’t want to talk about it C,” Y/N replied as she took off her jacket and sat at the desk next to her friend. “I’ve had a shitty morning.”

“I can tell,” she responded with a chuckle before spinning around and grabbing a still warm Starbucks cup from the tray located next to her. “You weren’t responding to my texts so I figured something was going on. Thought you could use a little pick-me-up.”

Y/N let out a thankful sigh of relief as took the cup from Candace’s hand and took a big gulp. “God, you’re a lifesaver.”

“I do what I can,” she chuckled and shook her head. “Boss woman is letting us go home early today once we’re done our piece for next week's column, but I just really want to know where it is you’re coming from and why you’re so salty because of it.”

“What makes you think I’m coming from anywhere in particular and that I didn’t just sleep in?”

“Well you are pretty much drowning in that hoodie you’re wearing, so I know it’s not yours,” she stated, causing Y/N to look down at her outfit and take in her pair of ripped jeans and Harry’s sweater she stole on her way out of his flat. “Is it a boy’s? Oh, it definitely is. You gotta spill.”

“I, well, this is Harry’s.”

“Like Harry Styles… as in your famous best friend,” Candace asked for clarification, a frown forming on her mouth when Y/N nodded. “Well damn, I thought I was going to get some juicy details about a guy you were sleeping with.”

Y/N stayed silent and shifted awkwardly in her seat.

“Wait… YOU’RE SLEEPING WITH HIM AGAIN?”

“Would you calm down!?”

“No, I can’t,” Candace replied and leaned closer so no one else would hear her losing her mind. “How? When did this happen?”

“It’s been off and on for a few months now,” Y/N explained with a shrug. “I’ve been wanting to just stop altogether because of what happened last year, but I don’t know.”

“You still like being with him, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. Pretty pathetic, right?”

“Not pathetic,” she stated. “Surprising, yes. I thought you didn’t want anything to do with him that wasn’t completely platonic after what happened last year.”

“I didn’t,” Y/N told her honestly. “But he sucked me right back in and I ended up falling harder than I did before.”

“Oh, to be in your shoes.”

“Shut up, I’m having an internal crisis over this whole thing.”

“I mean, you could always just tell him how you feel,” Candace told her with a wink. “Seems like a pretty easy solution to me.”

“Except it’s not.”

“Why is that?”

“Because what if he doesn’t feel the same and I just make a fool out of myself… again.”

Candace was about to respond to that but didn’t get the chance to when Y/N’s phone dinged with a new notification from her jacket pocket, causing them both to look in the direction the noise came from. “That’s him, isn’t it?”

“Even if it is, I’m not going to answer.”

“Quit being dramatic,” Candace scoffed and stood up from her chair. “I’m going to get some water and then we’re going to finish this article so we can get the hell out of here. Just respond to the man.”

Y/N knew she was being dramatic and although she was very hesitant in doing so, she reluctantly pulled her phone out to look at it.

Harry

Y/N, we‘re going to have to talk about this eventually.

Y/N

Doesn’t have to be any time soon.

Harry

I’d prefer if it was.

She stared at her phone for a second, debating on a response but didn’t bother writing anything as the typing bubble appeared on Harry’s side of the screen once again.

Harry

I owe you a trip to the Christmas market since we didn’t go together last year. Meet me there tomorrow night and we can talk?

Y/N

Are you actually going to show up this time?

Harry

Yes, I promise. Meet me there for say, 9pm?

Y/N

Ok.

Harry

Great. See you then. x

Y/N audibly sighed as she set her phone on her desk, but that soon turned into an internal groan when she heard a familiar voice call her name and looked up to see the literal last person she wanted to see walking towards her.

Connor was nice… enough. He was one of the I.T guys that helped around the office with any technical difficulties there may be, and also just so happened to be someone Y/N kind of, almost, hooked up with earlier in the year. It was a one-time thing. After continuously turning him down as a result of her relationship-ish type thing with Harry, he kept asking her out up until early spring when she finally agreed. They went for dinner, she had a mediocre time, then they made out before she denied his invitation to go back to his place and went home instead. The rest was history.

However, Connor didn’t see it that way.

She would continuously turn him down, but he kept coming on to her after that. Y/N was aware that she had not properly shut him down but just would come up with excuses as to why she was too busy and couldn’t go out with him instead, and hadn’t really got the chance to either. She didn’t want to tell him she wasn’t interested at work in front of everyone else, and she also didn’t want to tell him over text because both situations seemed pretty shitty. So, she kept on with the excuses.

“Uh, hey Connor!” She greeted with somewhat of a smile as he walked up to her desk and leaned against it.

“How’s it going?”

“Pretty good. Going to try to get my work done fast so I can get out of here ASAP. How about you? Any plans for the holidays?”

“Not really,” he explained. “I’ll go see my family on the 25th but that’s about it. Hey, listen, do you have any plans for tomorrow evening?”

And there it was. But at least this time, she didn’t need an excuse for turning him down.

“I do actually,” she told him. “I’m meeting a friend at the Christmas market.”

“I see,” he replied disappointedly.

Just tell him you’re not interested already, Y/N internally screamed at herself, but still couldn’t figure out a way to actually to just flat out tell him that; until she was struck with an idea.

“You know what,” she started. “Why don’t we meet up beforehand? There’s a little pub down the street from the market, we can meet there at around 8:30pm to grab a drink and… talk.”

“Yes!” He exclaimed, causing Y/N to jump as he pushed away from her desk and started walking away. “It’s a date, I’ll text you.”

“Wait no, it’s not a-,” she called after him, but there was no point as he rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight. “...date.”

“Oh, now you’ve messed up,” Candace’s voice sounded from behind Y/N as she walked back to her desk.

“No, I’m going to meet him for a quick drink and then let him down easy. Simple as that.”

“You sound pretty confident for someone who hates confrontation,” Candace scoffed. “Need I remind you how you’ve been avoiding talking to Harry for this exact reason.”

“Ok, no need to call me out like that,” Y/N whined and leaned back against her chair dramatically. “It’s going to be fine… I hope.”

“You and me both cause I’m sick of hearing about your dating struggles when I can’t even get a text back.”

“You want them? Take them. I’m over these struggles more than you are.”

“Whatever,” she chuckled. “Let’s finish this article and get the hell out of here so you can go home and prepare for the shitshow of a night you’re going to have tomorrow.”

“Thanks for the optimism, C. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The pub was busy for a Tuesday evening, much to Y/N’s dismay. It really shouldn’t have surprised her though seeing as it was Christmas Eve.

Not everyone goes home for the holidays, hell she was a prime example of that with how she didn’t have plans to go see her family until Christmas was over. Also, some people just don’t enjoy the time of year… which was fair. But Y/N still couldn’t help but wish she didn’t have to aggressively use her elbows just so she to get to the bar and order a drink, all while hoping no one would take her table once she stood up to do so.

Connor was late showing up, and she extremely annoyed over it. She was about to leave when she glanced down at her phone to see it was almost 9pm, but then she got a message from him saying he’d be there shortly and decided to wait. Her phone battery was dangerously low, so she sent a quick text to Harry saying she’d be a few minutes late and apologized before the device died completely and she had to sit in boredom until Connor showed up.

She wasn’t sure how much time passed when U + Ur Hand by P!nk started blaring through the speakers of the pub, mindlessly tapping her fingers along to the intro beat of the song until a group of obnoxiously loud men bursted through the front door. There were four of them, and Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes as they began yelling over each other, but then she noticed that Connor was amongst them.

He locked eye contact with her almost instantly, and soon he and his friends were on their way to her table.

“There she is,” Connor greeted as they approached, immediately wrapping his arm around Y/N’s waist and pulling her closer to him.

“Uh, hey,” she replied awkwardly while lowkey pushing him away, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable.

He then looked to his friends, nodding towards one that was giving him a pointed glance before shrugging and climbing up onto the stool next to Y/N. He unwelcomely rested his hand on her thigh, and she was quick in moving away from him again; easily smelling the alcohol that wafted off him and his friends. “Guys, this is Y/N. She’s the one I told you about.”

“She’s hotter than you described,” one of the guys slurred, causing Y/N’s face to scrunch repulsively.

“Yeah, you sure you don’t want to share?” Another said, and Y/N never felt more disgusted in her life.

“Woah, unnecessary comments guys,” she spoke up, becoming rather fed up with how they were acting.

“Yeah guys,” Connor scoffed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “She’s mine, back off.”

“Connor, m’not-,” she started and turned to look at him as she said this, but was suddenly cut off by his lips crushing against hers. Her eyes widened in alert as she quickly pushed him away and stood up from her seat. “Ok, you know what, I’m gonna go. I wanted to talk to you about something but it looks like I’ll just have to tell you at work when you’re not drunk.”

“Oh come on, don’t be like that,” he replied conceitedly as Y/N started putting on her jacket. “Quit playing hard to get.”

“Hard to get?” She looked at him as if he grew a second head. “What the hell makes you think I’m playing hard to get?”

“Well, it’s pretty obvious, Y/N. Why else would you make up such bullshit excuses to not go out with me after we hooked up a few months ago.”

“First off, we didn’t hook up. We kissed. Second, did it not occur to you that maybe I’m not interested because you’re an arrogant asshole?”

Connor’s friends ooh’d and began mumbling to one another as he looked at her offendedly. “That’s not the only reason. You and I both know that.”

“Excuse me?”

“I heard you and Candace talking about how you’ve been sleeping with that famous friend of yours again,” he explained and Y/N immediately felt the need to defend herself. “Harry what’s-his-face. Thought that after he left you last year you’d get over the idea of thinking he’d want anything to do with you.”

He can’t be serious, she thought to herself as she tried to figure out what to say to that. She was absolutely furious and all his friends did was laugh, feeding her anger even more. As she racked her brain from something to reply with, the bridge of P!nk’s song began and Y/N glanced down at her still half-full glass of vodka cranberry, before picking it up and throwing the contents at Connor’s face.

“Fuck you. You don’t know anything about my relationships with others and are in no place to comment on them,” she stated firmly as she slung her bag over her shoulder. “At least Harry doesn’t treat me or anyone like they’re just part of a conquest in order to get a good shag. He’s a genuine being and is worthy of my time, it’s no wonder I’ve fallen for him as badly as I have. You, on the other hand, are the worst type of person and I really hate that it took me this long to realize it. Don’t bother speaking to me ever again, especially at work because I will cause a scene. Have a terrible night, you fucking jerks.”

And with that, she stormed out of the joint without looking back. Part of felt stupid for blowing up on Connor, but a bigger part kept thinking of how he deserved it.

Once she was out in the cool winter air, she let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and started walking down the street towards the market. She was still livid, but just the thought of being near Harry put her mind at ease a little bit.

As she walked through the market's entrance she saw that no one was taking tickets and it was much emptier than she was expecting. Owners of the stands scattered all around the area that sold food and Christmas trinkets had packed up and all seemed to be heading home.

“What?” Y/N mumbled to herself before approaching a lady who was busy counting money from a till. “Hi, excuse me. Do you know what time it is by chance?”

“It’s after 9:30pm, dear. The market is closed.”

Shit.

“Oh, ok, thank you.”

It felt like Y/N’s heart plummeted into the pit of her stomach as she thoughts about Harry probably thinking she stood him up entered her mind. She grew even more frustrated over what went down with Connor and how it made her so late, as well as the fact that she couldn’t even call Harry and apologize for not showing up.

Because the thing was, she decided that she wanted to. She spent the 24 hours leading up to the moment, hyping herself up and was ready to talk things over with Harry. She planned on admitting her feelings and expressing how what happened on Christmas Eve the year before really hurt her. Regardless of the outcome, she was ready to put herself out there for him, and then she felt like she lost that chance.

She was hopeful for a few moments, thinking that maybe Harry was still wandering around somewhere. But the further she walked into the market, the less populated it became, and that hope soon faded.

The lights were pretty at least. Y/N really enjoyed looking at them as she continued on her stroll through the area. There was an entire wall that was covered in twinkling lights, that continued upwards and hung over the cobblestone path she was walking down. That along with the light snow that was falling from the sky made feel warm and fuzzy inside as she took it all in; smiling to herself as she stopped to look up at the flakes coming down before continuing on.

Lastly, she came to a stop at the base of the huge Christmas tree that was located in the centre of the market. It seemed different from how it looked the year before with its lovely blue decorations, but she just couldn’t figure out how it differed as she was observing.

A Michael Bublé Christmas song played from a loudspeaker nearby as she continued staring at the tree and thought about how she waited in that exact spot for Harry a year prior. She felt rather silly thinking about it now, but she shrugged it off and decided that she should probably stop gawking at the tree just head home.

“I don’t like the ornaments they used this year,” a voice suddenly spoke up from behind her. “Sure, the blue is nice. But I liked the red ones they used last year much more.”

Caught off guard by the person standing behind her now, Y/N was hesitant on turning around to face them. But once she did, it felt like the wind was knocked right out of her.  

“Harry?”

“Didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily, did yeh?” He asked with a large grin.

“Of course not,” she responded with just as big of a smile. “Listen, I’m so sorry for being late. I know you wanted to talk, and I did too but-.”

“Who said we still don’t have the chance to talk?” He questioned with a skeptical look. “I’ve got all the time in the world when it comes to you, darling.”

Y/N sighed, inwardly melting at his choice of words but also becoming completely overrun with nerves all of a sudden.

“I don’t even know where to start, H.”

“Then let me start,” he said and stepped towards her. “Leaving you last year was a huge mistake on my part. I knew how you felt and had come to terms with how I felt as well, but then when I got here and saw you standing under the tree like you are now, I chickened out.”

“Wait, what?” She asked surprised. “You were here?”

“I was,” he nodded and pointed to a corner of a nearby building. “When I got here, I was already so late. There were still a lot of people around and I didn’t even think I’d find you. But then I saw you standing pretty much right where you are now. You were completely mesmerized by the tree, just taking it all in like you do every year. I remember you saying beforehand how much you loved the ornaments they used because of how pretty they were. They’re different this year.”

“So that’s what seemed off about the tree this year,” she replied and glanced back at it. “That was uhm, very observant of you. But if you came all this way, why didn’t you tell me you were here?”

“Like I said, I got scared,” he answered and immediately captured her attention again. “Seeing you was when it hit me. It was when I realized just how much I love you.”

Her breath hitched at his words, and she could feel a blush forming on her cheeks that most definitely wasn’t just from the cold air, but she played it off quickly as she stepped towards him and smacked his arm. “Why didn’t you say anything!?”

“I didn’t know how! I panicked…”

“What did you panic about if you knew I felt the same?”

“I was worried about what I’d put you through,” he explained with a sigh. “M’not an easy person to be in a relationship with Y/N. I’m either coming or going all the time, and as much as I’d love to just stay in one place; it’s very hard to do that sometimes. You have your whole life here and I thought I’d interfere with that.”

“You’re stupid sometimes, you know that? I wouldn’t have cared about that, Harry.” She told him while shaking his head. “How would we know things would or wouldn’t work out if we didn’t try?”

“That’s exactly what I thought after I left. I immediately regretted leaving you there, but I thought it’d be easier that way. I know you despise confrontation as much as I do, and it just seemed easier at the time. Once I was gone, I was terrified that you’d want nothing to do with me and hated the thought of losing you over me being a coward, but I didn’t lose you. You were always still there even after I did something so shitty, and honestly, it made those feels I had grow more intense.”

“But you still didn’t say anything.”

“When we first started… you know... seeing each other again at the end of summer, I wanted to,” he stated. “But I still couldn’t figure out how. After me just leaving you last year, I didn’t think you’d want anything more than what we were doing. I was just glad to be with you and was willing to take whatever I could get, and those feelings all came crashing back. Then yesterday when you were over, I thought maybe I’d finally admit how I felt then; but you left and I thought I lost my chance.”

“So then you wanted to tell me today?” She asked softly. “And I basically stood you up.”

“No, I didn’t think that at all,” he told her while brushing away a snowflake that landed on her cheek. “When you texted me saying you were running late, I still waited around. But then it was getting chilly so I walked down the street to a little pub so I could warm up a bit. You were there.”

“Wait, so you saw…”

“And heard everything,” he nodded. “I don’t need to hear about that other guy cause thinking of how he treated you back there will piss me off. I was about to step in to be completely honest, but I should’ve known you could handle yourself.”

“Gee thanks,” she chuckled and shook her head. “But that also means you heard me say-.”

“That you’ve fallen for me? Yeah, I liked hearing that part. Made me less nervous about my want to do this.”

Without another word, he leaned down to place the most delicate kiss on her lips. There was no hungry lust behind it like there had been when they had kissed before, just pure admiration and affection; Y/N melted into it right away.

She pouted a little bit when he moved away, but then he pulled her into a tight embrace and instantly felt better. The two of them stood there for a moment, just basking in each other’s presence; her cuddling into his chest and him resting his head on top of hers as they swayed to the music that still played. It was a quiet song, the ending instrumentals of it played before the upbeat intro of the Jonas Brothers’ Like It’s Christmas started playing and Harry started chuckling.

“What’s so funny?” Y/N asked as she pulled away slightly to look up at him.

“Nothing,” he smirked and leaned down to give her another peck. “It’s just that you really do make every day feel like it’s Christmas.”

“You’re so sappy.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.”

“I guess I do,” she told him honestly as he linked his hand with hers and started leading her away from the tree. “Where are we going?”

“Home. Want to spend this Christmas with yeh.”

“I like the sound of that,” she replied while cuddling up against him as they began their trek home.

The two of them made it back to Harry’s flat and neither of them could stop smiling. They just loved the feeling of finally being together properly and although Y/N was set on not falling in love during Christmas again, this time around she wasn’t worried about him not being there the following year, or all the ones after that too.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles preferences #1dff #harry styles x y/n

[samwrights]

Two Little Lines Pt. 2

More babies!! WOW I’M SORRY I DIDNT MEAN TO MAKE A WHOLE ASS FIC OUT OF FUKATUCHI.

Er, warning? Implied alcoholism in Semi’s.

Terushima;

To say that you and Terushima lived a perfect life together would be an outright lie.

Sure, the two of you had been together since your guys’ third year of high school and you have always found a way to make the relationship work.

But you were so tired.

So tired of acting more like his mother than his girlfriend of the last four years. He hardly helped around the apartment, never cooked a meal, and if he was home and not passed out, he’d ditch you to go hang out with his friends.

It just didn’t feel like a relationship anymore; it felt like you were roommates who slept in the same bed.

And Terushima Yūji was entirely oblivious to the fact.

To say that it broke your heart would be an understatement.

But even so, you held onto the hope that you and Teru would make this all work and everything would go back to the way it used to be.

Hope in the form of crying out the anguish in your soul every night as you went to bed.

You ain’t slick though, but Terushima just doesn’t know what to do—

he’s terrified to confront you about this because what if you finally realize that he’s really just a piece of shit and you should have left years ago?

I love Terushima but lowkey I feel like he’s toxic 💀

But he tries—tries in the form of actually talking about topics that have real substance for the first time in months.

It actually goes rather well!

Too well.

It was nice to have your boyfriend back, even if temporarily.

To have human, physical contact with him was needed.

But also landed you in your current predicament—sitting on your bathroom floor, waiting for the results of the pregnancy test you felt you needed to buy earlier.

You were tired—way more than usual lately. The morning sickness, however, was what prompted you.

It was currently 2am. Yūji would be home soon from wherever he decided to go to, and the timer on your phone goes off signaling for you to check.

Not that you needed nor wanted the confirmation, but the two little lines were the nail in the coffin.

Lmaofuck.

“[name]?” Terushima calls out from the hallway. He must’ve noticed you weren’t in bed despite the late hour.

Hearing his voice brought tears to your eyes and you wished you could lie and say they were from joy.

The sobs are what captures his attention, prompting him to barge into the bathroom. “Babe? What’s wrong?”

You don’t say anything; you’re afraid you’ll say everything you’d been harboring inside for years. Instead, you point to the pregnancy test with a shaky finger.

“Wha—oh. Oh!” Aside from the three syllables that left his lips, he had no idea what else to say.

Because he knows.

Terushima knows that things haven’t been going all that great and the both of you just loved each other too much to let the other go.

“I don’t know what to do, Yūji.” Your voice is devoid of all emotion, reflecting the emptiness you’d been feeling for so long.

“The choice is yours, always. But...” Terushima comes to sit with you on the tiled floor, tugging at your cheek so that you can look at him. “This is my sign, I guess, that I have to be better. We aren’t kids anymore, shit we could be having a kid—I can’t just do whatever the hell I want.”

“You shouldn’t have been in the first place,” you seeth, “Yūji, we’ve been in a partnership since high school.”

“And you’ve been carrying the team.” At least he acknowledges it. “Now you’re literally carrying the team.”

“Dude,” you smack his arm lightly, not missing his joke. “Be serious.”

“I am. I mean it. I don’t want to lose you, [name], so I’m going to try. I want to be better for you, for both of you.”

Semi;

Was Semi Eita perfect? No.

Did you need him to be perfect? Also no.

But for the last three years, there had always been some kind of disconnect between you two regarding what you wanted for the future.

You both were incredibly supportive of each other’s respective paths—shit, you were Semi’s biggest fan when it came to his music.

But considering he often had to travel, he just couldn’t see eye to eye with you and your need for stable roots.

What was the point of spending money on a house when your two bedroom apartment suited you just fine?

He did concede to the two of you getting a dog, so that was nice at least.

But above all, you wanted to be a family. Married, kids, a yard—the whole package. He knew this, but always had an excuse.

“My career is just taking off. If we get married, I don’t want to abandon either of you—I want to be able to dedicate the proper time to both of you.” Okay, fair.

“We don’t have enough saved for a house yet.” Also fair.

“Being a parent is a full time job.” He had valid points to everything, but that did little to quell your desires.

But for Semi, you were willing to make some sacrifices.

Kinda.

However, Semi doesn’t notice the subtle changes that have come from you.

You’re working more, home less, and if you were home, you’d already have had dinner and hanging out in the bathtub while chugging a bottle of wine.

At first, Eita just thinks that you’ve had a rough day at work or something and he gives you your space.

But one bottle turns into four, and he’s had to carry you out of the tub more than once or twice.

“Babe, talk to me. What’s wrong?” Semi had left work early one day just to make sure he caught you before you started your evening ritual.

“Nothing’s wrong, Eita!” But he could hear the forced optimism along with the way your grin didn’t make your cheekbones close your eyes at the corner like they always did.

“[name], please. Don’t shut me out.” Have you ever heard Semi Eita beg? No? That’s cause it never happens.

“I swear, I’m fine! Just had—“

“A hard day at work, I know. I don’t doubt that but you’re avoiding me, babe. Just tell me what’s going on.”

You don’t know how to answer without being selfish. You know what Semi wants out of life and you had comes to terms with it. So why couldn’t you just let it go?

“I-I just...need time. To come to terms with the fact that we want different things in life.” If Semi was a crier, he would have right then and there. Watching the air leave your lungs in broken bubbles coming up as hiccups as you cried broke his heart.

“Do we? I just want you.”

For the first time in months, you didn’t pick up a bottle. After having dinner together, you finally got to be in the comfort of your loving, life partner.

Fast forward to present day—two months later you still indulge yourself in one glass of wine but no more bottles in the bathtub.

Semi’s thankful af for that 💀 even it wasn’t the ideal recovery

But he notices you’ve been waking up in the middle of the night to go throw up, and he’s starting to wonder if there were days you were sneaking them in.

“Eita, I swear I stopped doing that.” He’s giving you benefit of the doubt, trying to come up with other potential culprits.

There were days when you would PMS bad enough to make you sick.

But never for more than a few days—you were entering week 2.

“I’m calling the doctor,” he declares after you’d hurled for the third time that day. When he sees your hesitance, he adds, “I don’t think this is normal withdrawal. You never quit cold turkey, so I just wanna make sure you’re safe.”

Semi Eita’s intuition is both a blessing and a curse.

Blessing, in the sense that he was 100% right in regards to you needing to see a doctor.

Curse, because the two of you found out that you were pregnant. And while the two of you were doing much better than you were a few months ago, the “talk” about your future had never resurfaced.

“So, what are we going to do, Eita?”

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to consolidate my studio to make room for a nursery and I’ll probably have to start working from home part time at least to help you out—“

“Wait, what?” Why did he make it sound like you were keeping the baby?

“Well I’m not gonna leave you to do this alone, [name]. It’s my kid too.”

“Semi-Semi, you don’t want kids.”

“Yeah, but I want you.” He sounds so sure, so confident, that you aren’t even sure if the man beside you is really your boyfriend. “And by association, that includes our baby.”

Futakuchi;

Oh my god.

Why—or rather how in the fuck did this happen to you?

Well, you know how it happened. You did have sex education when you were in high school, after all.

But you and Fukatuchi always used condoms—there was no room for negotiation on that.

Part of you wishes you would have broken off this hook up arrangement a long time ago

But you know you’re lying to yourself because the two of you just meshed so well.

Almost like a real couple, but you knew that a relationship was the last thing he wanted.

And now, you sat on your bathroom floor with your head buried on your knees after throwing the pregnancy test that revealed two little lines of positivity.

Well, fuck.

You start dodging his 2am calls, passing it off as you had a paper or a lab that you desperately needing to finish.

Kenji isn’t buying it. He knows you’re always on top of your schoolwork.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Comes a text in broad daylight—something comepletely atypical of Futakuchi.

Avoiding turns into ignoring as you’re almost three months pregnant.

To which he calls out with another text send before booty call hours. “Alright, this is getting ridiculous. Whoever you’re fucking now can’t be better than me. Just answer me and I’ll prove it.”

Blocked.

Another weak goes by and, surprisingly, your pregnancy has been relatively smooth. Even if it did suck going through it alone.

A part of you missed Futakuchi. Not that you’d ever tell him that. But you tried to tell yourself you missed the D and nothing else.

But you missed the way he’d hold you overnight, occasionally brushing hair out of your face almost endearingly. You missed the warmth, the lust fueled kisses that you swore were almost loving.

Only to remember he was always gone before you woke up. He was only a booty call, and you had to remind yourself of that.

So why the fuck was he at your doorstep in the middle of the afternoon on a Sunday?

“Why the fuck did you block me?” He snarls, barreling his way into your apartment. You were so thankful that you were wearing an oversized hoodie and that you weren’t showing that much yet. .

“Dude, get out. Obviously, I blocked you for a reason.”

“Oh no, you don’t get to get out of this so easily. You would have told me if you started seeing someone else—“ his wording slips, he knows it, but Futakuchi can’t bring himself to fix the statement.

“We weren’t seeing each other in the first place!” The words sting him like rubbing alcohol on a fresh wound.

You try to usher him out of the apartment but, thanks to you being 16 weeks along and much weaker than him, your efforts are futile.

“You’re so cute when you play hard to get.” He retorts, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you off the ground to carry you both out of the door way.

But as soon as he does, you’re immediately prying yourself away—fearful that he can feel your hardening belly. Fighting him off, however, seemed to make him squeeze harder. “Kenji, let me go! Fuck!”

He notices the use of his first name. He notices the flailing. But most of all, he noticed that your body felt different, even underneath the plush cloth of your hoodie.

He lets you go, unceremoniously dropping you into the ground out of shock because he finally is putting the pieces together. “You’re pregnant?”

“Get out, Kenji.”

“So you didn’t wanna see me because you’re pregnant? I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand the logic here,” his tone is snarky, painted with a vicious bite, “unless you were hooking up with someone else at the same time is me, there was no reason for you to keep this from me.”

But he knew that you weren’t. He knew by the way you’d clutch at his chest lovingly after sex that part of you longed for a real relationship with him.

And by the way it took everything in him to not stay through the morning, Kenji knew that somewhere along the lines, he wanted it too.

And he planned on telling you the last time he called, just before you started avoiding him.

“There was only you.” You answer quietly to the implied question.

“So, it’s mine.” He states bluntly. Losing your voice, you only nod. “You know,” he starts again slowly after you’ve both nodded off to a silent lull, “I started texting you in the middle of the day because I didn’t want you to think it was just about sex anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I actually wanted to give us a try, but I wasn’t sure if you’d break things off if you didn’t want to move forward, and I didn’t wanna risk finding out.”

“And now, instead, you’re finding out that you’re going to be a dad.”

💀💀💀 I-

Haikyuu!! Tag List - Let me know if you’d like to be added!

@hihiq​ @dreamyjaems @tamcitrus

#haikyu!! #haikyuu!! imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #samwrights #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu!! #yuuji terushima x reader #terushima x reader #hq terushima #terushima yuuji #eita semi x reader #i love semi #semi x reader #eita semi #semi haikyuu #semi eita #semi semi #futakuchi x reader #futakuchi kenji #date tech #datekou #shiratorizawa #johzenji #haikyuu requests

[ephemerlskies]

in the stars tonight | pjm

⇢ pairing: jimin x reader

[other members - seokjin, taehyung, namjoon]

⇢ genre: series, ANGST, enemies to lovers au, actor!jimin, actor!oc, (eventual) fluff if you squint

⇢ word count: 8.4

⇢ genre: Landing a role that might launch your entire career as an actor had come with the most unpredictable and daunting circumstances: grappling with the tragic loss of your boyfriend, Namjoon, and co-starring in a film with the vexing yet enchanting (and famous), Park Jimin.

⇢ warnings: explicit language, themes of grief/loss, themes of depression, (many) mentions of death, mentions of driving under the influence (please stay safe!!), themes of alcoholism, themes of escapism, mentions of alcohol, mentions of marijuana, unhealthy coping mechanisms, lots of internal dialogue with one deceased boyfriend, arguing/bickering, seokjin being seokjin, eventual love triangle (ish) feud

♪ playlist: dynamite - bts, move! - niki, saint nobody - jessie reyez, through the night - iu, ilomilo - billie eilish, the truth untold - bts, slow dancing in the dark - joji ♪

╰ series index: 01 | 02 (coming soon)

a/n: i, and i cannot emphasize this enough, can't believe this came out of me.... it was just a lil idea in my head, but then it expanded into this entire story that was way too long to fit into a one shot. so, here's me serving up a hot plate of enemies to lovers with a generous side of angst and longing!!! i hope y'all enjoy (and hate) arrogant jimin as much as i did hehe <3 ps i have no idea how long i want this series to be i'm lowkey winging it

The world does not slow down for anything. Not for catastrophes or miracles or even something as devastatingly common as death.

When your boyfriend of three years, Namjoon, lost his life due to another's drunken mistake, you realized this. The world revolves on a scheduled orbit, and not even your tragedy wedged a wrench big enough to halt life just a moment. Just to let you breathe and grieve without feeling left behind. However, you were left behind, both by the world and him.

Every sun and moon, every skipped meal, every unfulfilled rain-check, every isolated Saturday night, and every cancelled audition that came as quickly as they left paid tribute to this merciless phenomenon. It seemed you now existed just to watch the days pass, just to balefully relive the moments before Namjoon's passing. And that seemed to have been the only way you could have survived. To make a recluse of yourself because if the world was careless enough to let someone as amazing as him go, then what held it back from spilling even more wreckage into your life? For the past six months, you stuck to the cold, dead past. It was all you had to hold onto; letting go meant plummeting into a depth far too unknown and inescapable.

You and Namjoon were steadfast. You were still steadfast, or more appropriately, stuck now that you had no one to be loyal to anymore.

You and him were one of those couples other people saw and wished they could replicate into their own lives, but when it came down to it, rooted for your happy ending with him. The type similar to that of highschool sweethearts who beat the odds, or the type whose encounter fell along the silver lines of fate. Something beautiful that automatically made all the love poems authenticated by you and him. And when he held you, the idea of worry or evil seemed like concepts that did not exist past fictional tales. So warm, so loving, now gone.

The way in which you and Namjoon grew over the three years you were able to love him was in a convergent manner.

Your branches and vines were woven into his, and his into yours. Even your roots, the elements of your past, began to entangle beneath the soil. To root between each other meant there had been a foundation from which you grew, a stability that was once neat. There was no boundary of which would discern your life from his. And at one, more favorable, point in time, your life did belong to him. Namjoon was someone you only knew for a mere fraction of your life, however the moment he wandered into it, you had unlearned how to continue without him.

You didn't think you would have to relearn.

But then one decision forced you to do so. One person, who decided paying fifteen bucks for an Uber was not a wise enough investment, ripped out the plant of his body from your shared soil by means of inebriated judgment and a missed red light. You had no choice but to absorb the cruel sustenance of the sun completely alone. Most of your branches of life were left barren, with torn twigs where your body once borne fruit and leaves and beauty. But the roots were where most of the pain inhabited. A stubborn, sharp ache resided in your chest, deep enough that you might have had to be cut open and searched through to find the source.

It had been six months of 'Sorry for your loss' and 'Gone too soon' and your personal least favorite 'He's in a better place now'. It made you angry, because was there a place better for him that didn't have you in it? How could anyone know what was better for him when they didn't experience something as tender and gentle and loving as your relationship?

But none of the sympathetic smiles or half-hearted condolences made you quite as angry as the monster who was too selfish to call someone to drive them and consequently punctuating the eternity you were meant to spend with Namjoon. You always followed the virtue that an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. Forgiveness was a sweeter release than anything else, but if you could, you would take that drunk driver's life in a heartbeat. You would have gauged out your own eyes if the chance fell into your reach.

Though, no matter how hard you screamed at the universe for hurting you, despite the countless pleas to somehow retrospectively tell Namjoon not to go out for something as trivial as toothpaste so he might be alive today, holding your hand in this waiting room, telling you that you're going to do great, you knew the world wouldn't stop for you or your sorrow.

It revolves, waits for no one, and you had to pace yourself to jump back into the turning carousel of life.

"___. We're ready for you!" His voice was ten notches above a volume that wouldn't irritate you. The only hint you let slip that his tone made you want to throw this script at his crotch was the muted sigh.

You knew this audition was going to play out like the rest. They would ask you to read, stop you in the middle of your monologue, then say something like 'Thank you for your time, we'll get back to you soon' which was show business code for 'We are not giving you the role'. The only reason you were here was because you had been out of work for too long, the piles of overdue bills on your kitchen table a cruel reminder of that. Plus, you knew Namjoon would have told you to go.

He would have said something like, 'Get your lazy ass out of bed and go to that audition! You don't want Hollywood to miss out on a star just because you want to sleep in fifteen more minutes'. And it would have worked. It always had. Now, the only motivation that came to your aid was the echo of his voice, and even that had begun its slow descent into forget. Other than that, guidance of your own volition was as fleeting and disarrayed as a violent wind.

"Hi, my name is ___, and I will be auditioning for the lead. Jordan." Your hand must have been fielding its way through a nervous tick. The person you assumed was the director was eyeing the way it had been contorting at your side, and you hated showing that you were nervous.

"Perfect! We've already casted the other lead role. This audition will mostly be based on whether we think you'll have good chemistry with him." Him. So your possible running mate was a man. Before a list of names engraved on rows of stars cemented into the Hollywood walk of fame ran through your head, you lifted the script and collected all the air your lungs would allow.

Maybe, you thought, my courage and passion might come with it.

And when you opened your mouth, something magical that you credited to talent claimed sovereignty over your body. Now, you were Jordan. Jordan didn't have a dead boyfriend, now ex boyfriend, or luggage enough grief to sink a depression into the crust of the Earth. Jordan was a kind, low-energy, and sentimental artist coming into an age of overwhelming success and fortune —and love.

That's what alluded you in acting. For a moment, you could escape your life, leave your pain on the back burner while you emerged into someone who was unacquainted with the pain of losing the love of your life. It was akin to a drug, administering an intoxicating fill of temporary serotonin. Instant relief, and if you got this job you would have your fix of this twisted sort of high that tempered the Namjoon-sized void in your life. And Jordan's life definitely seemed to have, quite literally, all the things yours lacked.

"Wow, ___, was it? That was absolutely incredible!" The hand-covered whisper that followed this appraisal gave you time to begrudgingly peel of the Jordan mask. Within a half second, all the pain seemed to compound into your body. If you hadn't already shaped your entire life around that weight, you would have fallen over. Though you had done this, and even worse, you had been shouldering it for so long, you would have felt naked without such a burden. "Okay, well, we have a few more auditions but I think we have our Jordan! We'll send your manager the full script along with the schedule for the first week of shooting in about two weeks."

"Uh-" If you had not said something quick, the opportunity might have slipped away all too fast, the way Namjoon had. You vowed to grab hold of anything remotely good that arose into your life, giving you more than late nights of choked sobs and transfixed gazes out of half-curtained windows. This offer was clutched tightly in your fist. "Oh... Th- thank you! Thank you! Fuck, thank you so much. This means so much to me, thank you!"

Before you proliferated the meaning of the words thank you and the director's smile turned into rolled eyes, you stumbled your way out of the door. Waiting on the other side was a world that might strike against you with partially docile cruelty. The wind pressed against your skin, almost blowing away all your grief with the help of this successful audition.

That feeling, as always, was as comforting as it was fleeting. Because the scars of your past would not have budged for any brash current. Because your next thought disrupted the scant flourish of joy. It was the thing that came easier and sooner to you than eating and blinking; telling Namjoon any news of both good and bad ranks, sharing your life to celebrate or stress over. One of the many things that remained by an undissolvable adhesive along your mind. You tried to soak it away with liquor or smoke it out with weed, but there was no breaking of habits you loved almost as much as Namjoon.

I did it, Joon. I landed my first role. You thought, because that was the closest you could have gotten to relaying the news.

Your heart began to physically hurt. Heartaches were literal in your case. Literal and grim. You felt the grip of loss pierce its sharp thorns into your flesh. It had nearly been as painful as all the times your words were met to deceased ears, speaking to someone that had not belonged to you anymore. Six months had passed and pain cannot tell time in the way people can. So, you knew the marathon of your grief was one that followed its own metaphorical clock. You just had to keep running in hopes you could make it out alive.

Though, being Jordan for the next six months would help momentarily satiate your grief. If there were a remote for your emotions, this role would be the mute button. Your pain would still move as it usually would, but now it would be silent. You wouldn't have to listen to its unforgiving taunts and crippling obscenities. It was only just that you were paid reparations for six months of utter misery with six more months of narcotic, soundless distractions.

Two Weeks Later

If the universe had given you one good thing, it was skill and dedication to your craft. The script was memorized in just short of four days, and even a sizable amount of lines of the other characters had been stacked atop your memory. Doing an acceptable job at this role wasn't something that was worried you. In fact, the idea of wearing another's life on your body and on your heart was something you looked forward to. 

It was a bit difficult to convince yourself how good this natural born gift was when the universe took something that felt a thousand times more crucial to your existence. Acting, or anything else that planted joy in you, was a consolation prize for merely participating in life. Namjoon was the reward you were meant to win in the end.

And you had no idea what the hell to do when the prize becomes in all of the sense of the word unattainable.

You hadn't driven in six months, despite the run-down Honda parked in front of your street, desperate to be given some sort of purpose. It was too much. Ever since the accident, the idea of manning a wheel that could take away more than it could ever offer was a responsibility you felt entirely too daunted to assume. Even though seat hogs, missed busses, and overcrowded walkways had been inconveniences of an indescribable level, it wasn't enough to put your body into the same vehicle that derailed your life.

Luckily, the bus stop was only three blocks away from the studio. It gave you plenty of time to get into character, however it also nestled in a span of time for Namjoon's voice to filter in and out through running your lines.

He talked to you a lot. As much as it made you want to cry, you held onto it, feeling as though it might be the last of his voice you'd be able to recall. If Namjoon's internal commentary were to suddenly disperse, you might forget his voice entirely. And you wouldn't admit this to anyone else, but you would always answer back. Sometimes out loud, and sometimes, when company forced you into sanity, you responded mentally. It kept you separate from life and any form of interaction with actual people, but it felt better than living in a world without him. Additionally, it helped keep his voice alive, which when you thought about it, was such sick irony. His voice, alive, his heart and mine and soul, dead.

And that was the only downside to acting. When there was another mind you had to engage in, Namjoon couldn't have broken the barrier and his voice wouldn't even register as an echo. Perhaps that was why you waited so long to dive back into your job. It felt synonymous with betrayal to do anything that would sever your connection already hanging by a single, fragile thread.

"___? Hello?" You were immune to every condescending gesture or vernacular weaponized in Hollywood by now. Your makeup artist's snaps fell into the base of annoyance you had grown used to. "Did you hear me? You're all ready."

Her voice wasn't too abrasive. If anything, you should be the one apologizing for dazing in and out of consciousness. Though, Namjoon's sweet compliments about how beautiful you looked with your stage makeup should have been the one to acquire this remorse.

"Sorry. I'm, uh, tired. Not used to waking up at six in the morning quite yet."

"Well, get used to it, or you'll have a rough few months ahead of you." Her laugh had shed whatever shell of pretentiousness once veiled her previous impression. "I'm Nayeon, by the way. I've heard many great things about you, ___. Let's hope you live up to the hype."

Nayeon's nudge was friendly, and it comforted you that within the first day you hadn't pissed off the person who could easily turn your face clown-like with a few heavy strokes of her brush. She was beautiful, too. If she hadn't been dressed in a black T-shirt strewn with foundation and powder stains, then you would have mistaken her for an actress.

"Let's hope so... I guess the director was selling me better than myself." Your eyes scanned the area, though no one seemed a fitting candidate to be your lead. "So, who's the other lead?"

"Park Jimin. I'm surprised they didn't tell you yet. I guess it's some obscure, artistic director decision to keep you in the dark. I’m lowkey fangirling right now… But, don't tell anyone that." Before you could respond, let alone react, Nayeon had collected all the products she needed for her next subject and was about a yard away from you. "Good luck, rookie!"

Park Jimin. You've definitely heard of him, but it surprised you that someone like him accepted a role in a romantic, indie, coming of age film that had not the budget to pay half of what he usually made in his repertoire of previous movies. He was certainly what one would consider an 'A-list' celebrity. The type paparazzi actually cared to stalk, and fans recognized in public, but were too shy to approach due to his sheer intimidation. It hadn't eased your nerves that he was notoriously withdrawn when it came to the behind the scenes portion of shooting a movie.

And, like any decent person, you did your very best to refrain from placing judgments without the opportunity for them to fill in their own narrative. Most of what you ‘knew’ of Jimin had been hearsay. However, you had some hunch Jimin wouldn't qualify as one who labored tirelessly for the roles he had landed or authenticated any sort of compassion with his rising fame.

See, acting and snagging a big role in a movie was characterized as a tall building for you. If one reached the top floor, then they would assume a wealth of opportunities and Oscar nominations and acclimation. Of course, this film industrial structure had various modes of climbing to the top. Some had stairs which called for more excretion and effort but still, all you needed were persistent legs, then each step would eventually get you where you wanted to be.

You had more of a ladder. Each wrung was slanted at an angle of which only deepened your brawl with success and had not been sanded down enough to save you from a generous supply of splinters. After a while, your hands began to ache and the fear that some high-society type would kick the base of your ladder always stalked the forefront of your worries. It certainly had not been a choice means of arrival to whatever awaited you on that top floor, however it was the only one available.

And while you had a ladder to overcome, Jimin had an elevator. The most he'd ever expend to reach that coveted floor was a few presses of a button. And perhaps his only sacrifice would be sharing the elevator with one or two others. Things just worked out for people like him. And an elevator’s delivery was always in a manner that was quicker than the likes of a staircase or a ladder.

When he arrived on set, dragging himself like his own body was a weight he shouldn't have to carry himself, you fought that instinct of yours to assume everything you needed to know from him.

Just because he's wearing sunglasses inside doesn't mean he's some arrogant asshole, even if that is the most cliché character trait of one. This internal lecture was certainly of Namjoon's doing, since he was always one to never run out of allotting the benefit of the doubt.

Yeah, I guess. But, come on, he looks like a fucking idiot. You replied as if he were really there before walking up to the callous man with your gauntlet thrown down by default. No need getting on Jimin's bad side, because you were sure it's complement was being blacklisted from the film industry. Instead of sharp edges you offered him a non-threatening smile and handshake.

Play nice. Namjoon reminded you before you had the chance to decide what you wanted to say.

"Hi! It's such an honor to be working with you. I'm ___." Jimin looked at your hand like you had filled it with mud and were intending on smearing his Gucci jacket, which you assumed was worth more than your monthly apartment rent. "Um, wanna touch base before we start shooting or..."

If his admonished glare at your hand wasn't encouragement enough to retract it back into yourself, then what he said, or more fittingly, what he didn't say next was.

The way his sigh infused a scoff within it made you feel small. It felt like fire, how thoroughly it burned you into a pile of ash, but then it felt like a gust of prickled wind that would scatter your remains completely. If it had not been for the way his head shifted from your head to your toe, you wouldn't have known that his shielded eyes were trailing the length of your body. Such a glare seemed like a calculation of your worth; it must have totaled out to that of a fly he had to swat away because the second you stood on the outside of his peripheries you stopped existing in his world altogether.

His back made a longer impression on you than his eyes, and that was your que to huddle yourself in the corner and stick to the two things you were best at.

Imaginary conversations with Namjoon and rerunning through your already memorized lines.

Before you say anything, I already think he's a prick. It might be pathetic to have instigated theoretical conversations with your dead boyfriend, but the world wouldn't know he would have scolded you first for already constructing an agenda to avoid Park Jimin whenever you could. You just felt an itch to lay down the first word.

You never know, maybe he had a bad day.

Yeah, well people like him don't need to be professional unlike the rest of us. I mean, I'm on the verge of openly conversing with you and I'm the one that has to turn the other cheek? Your script was decorated with a number of wrinkles. Proof that your anger was sleeping from your insides in the form of tightly gripped hands that were pretending to pinch Jimin's skin instead of the script. For once, you felt some grain-sized semblance of luck for having a grasp of acting to pull off pretending to love Jimin.

"Hey." You weren't quite thrilled to meet the person you had imagined pushing down a staircase standing over you. Without his glasses, it was difficult to remember why you had been so angry with him and you hated that. His eyes consisted of more than just irises and pupils, though you would not have been able to place what exactly accompanied these features. They were just eyes, after all, parts of a body. Functional. Mechanical facets of being. And yet, his seemed more than that. More than just sense mechanics. Perhaps beauty. 

But for him to have been beautiful, it would have tainted the very idea of beauty.

"We're about to start shooting. Don't make this difficult, I'm trying to leave on time." 

"Okay... Sure." Those were the two words you substituted for the 'fuck you' itching to crawl from your throat.

"I'm Jimin, but you know that already." The way he spoke was punctuated as though it was a waste of his time to spend any attention on you. If you weren't already drained of your strength from that tube of toothpaste that was some sort of paraphernalia of the night Namjoon became an article of your past, then you would have rolled your eyes or retorted with something that would knock him down a peg.

"I do." Your own weak will bothered you more than Jimin. "Um, I-"

"Let's not." Though he had no idea what you were about to say, a part of you agreed to not even indulge in small talk with him. It would be too forced and uncomfortable and that might leak into your performance on camera. Still, he had an abrasive way of going about it that made you want to disagree with him just to be able to lie contrary to him.

"Fine." It rolled off your tongue easily, like silk. His lingering eyes had you wondering if you somehow impressed him with your passive agreement or insulted him for not groveling for his approval. Either one would have satisfied you.

"Alright! Looks like you two got acquainted. We're jumping right in." The director, Kim Seokjin, was chirpy. Even if this project wasn't necessarily mainstream or highly anticipated, he was the type to salvage all his passion and pour it into anything he created. It comforted you knowing someone other than you found this to be somewhat life changing. "Please, Jimin, ___, on your marks. This is the scene where you two meet, so we're hoping you two can infuse that feeling of being slightly awkward but nevertheless enthralled in each other's presence. Got it?"

"Yessir." You said, and Jimin only produced a nod which seemed generous for him. Fighting the urge to snarl or squeeze your brows together came as a difficulty you had to practice at.

"Slate! Quiet on set..." Seokjin’s voice filled the empty space of the entire studio.

"Scene one, take one." Just as the snap of the slate reverberated through the room, your eyes changed just as abruptly. Your gaze upon the set transformed it into your reality. You looked at Jimin and now saw Laurie, a young soul filled with enough dreams and kindness one could have mistaken him for a cloud; the kind that spoke in loving whispers and gentle caresses. He reminded you a lot of someone else you knew.

You tucked Namjoon's voice away with the rest of your grief and became Jordan.

Amazing things seemed to happen when you least expected them too. You guessed that was the nature of amazing things, for if you expected them then they probably wouldn’t feel so amazing. About halfway through the scene, after a number of cuts, re-shoots, directorial notes, you noticed something. Or more so, this something willed you to notice.

Once you fell into stride with your character, it became easier to pick up on the person acting opposite of you. Maybe you hadn't given Jimin enough credit before. You knew maybe was an understatement, though you felt a sting admitting talent had fallen into his hands just as all his accomplishments had.

Jimin's acting rested on the side most polar to your own. You replicated, he revolutionized. You became your character, shrinking yourself enough so that one wouldn't have been able to tell who you were beyond who you were playing. Jimin, however, made the character his own. There was no minimizing his own body to fit into the mold of the character. Jimin was the mold, and he sculpted the character to fit along himself. He forged his movements, voice, and confidence into whichever role he played and brought life to someone strewn with a signature of his own soul polishing said character. All the while, he was inventive with each intention and emotion that were strung into his lines.

It was difficult to pull this off, being that you could easily begin to just play yourself in a movie and neglect any character mannerisms that you were supposed to portray, however Jimin seems to slip in and out of his role with ease. And with each take, he peppered in more dimensions to a character. He gave meaning and depth to a person constructed onto a paper script until you couldn't believe this person didn't exist in real life.

That was the amazing thing that kept your well-rehearsed lines behind an impermeable wall of reluctant admiration.

What hadn't helped, though seemed to have been timed to a tee to unwind your sensibility, and timing had always worked against you like you had done wrong to it, was the part when Laurie was written to sneak his hand along your waist after Jordan stepped backwards into his body.

His palm felt so warm. So warm that the entire world felt too cold for you to be anywhere but apart from his touch. Then, all your lines spilled from your recollection. He was standing close behind you, the plush of his cheek tickling your ear and sending the entire world away so you and he could reserve this moment just for yourselves.

"Your line." His whisper wouldn't be picked up by the mic, though it had no trouble debilitating the rest of your senses. Did he intend for it to blur any sort of attraction his character felt for you into the life beyond the camera?

The director called cut to the scene, and it felt like a lifetime before you were released from the entrapping heat of Jimin's body. When you spun around, hoping you could at least dig through your throat to pull out a deflated apology, the smirk laced along his lips illustrated every bit of his arrogance and once again shut you up.

From the way his eyebrow was arched, you assumed he must have read your mind. He knew what he did to you, and it reminded you of everything you disliked about Jimin. Presumptuous, prideful in his taunts. It also reminded you that he stood many floors above you in this architectural competition of acting. You were grabbing hold of each wrung as you went, unprepared for something as disarming as Jimin. All he had to do was peer down at the sight of you to make you feel a hundred times lower than him. 

“___? What’s wrong?” You looked over to find Seokjin’s half worried, half irritated expression. 

“No, nothing. Sorry, I just blanked for a second.” Jimin’s snide chuckle at your confession to a faulty performance didn’t help simmer the burn of embarrassment.

"It’s okay, I get it.” The director offered a smile as a peace offering, and since he looked not seven years older than you, it had you assuming he was the laid-back type. “Let's take five. We'll block a few of the scenes and finish the rest of this and we'll call it a day."

You made your nest over at the snack bar. Shoving half of a donut into your mouth had almost resurged your energy. Nayeon made a swift return to pat your face with more powder.

"Hey, you're pretty damn good." You were stuck with a mouthful of donut to null any chance of responding. "Except for when you kinda just shut down at that last scene."

You would have felt embarrassed, or rather more embarrassed than you currently did, if it weren't for the light laugh that followed. All you had to reply with was a shrug.

"I mean, I don't blame you. Jimin's pretty hot and if I were cozying up to him during a scene I'm sure I would also fuck up my lines." Nayeon finished applying whatever touch ups she felt necessary, not without a suggestive eye arch. This either meant she was going to shuffle over to another actor in need of visual repair or she would stay and talk. Her continued monologue advocating for Jimin's talents and good looks proved the latter was what you had in store. "I mean, damn. Also, I'm pretty sure he's got abs under that shirt. So, are you into him? Is that it?”

"It's not like that." The harsh delivery gave an impression contrary to what you said. "I mean, I just... He's just really good at this. I guess I got kinda intimidated."

Normally, you would have sought Namjoon's voice ringing in your head about how you could do this, reminding you how he believed in you. It would have gotten you through the scene however, Jordan didn't know Joon.

"Well, he won an Oscar for a reason, babe." You finished the rest of your donut and begun a prowl for another savory comfort food. "I mean, damn, twenty-five and already winning Oscars and getting nominations. It ain't for nothing."

"Yes, this is helping so much, thank you." You twisted in sarcasm as if that would make you seem any less intimidated. Again, Nayeon laughed off any shroud of roughness coating your words.

"What, do you want me to lie? Is that how you want to start this friendship, with lies?" Her elbow nudged you, and that alone communicated more than the brief exchanges you two shared. Now, you had a friend. Someone else to talk with that wasn't a figment of your own imagination.

Look at you, already making friends. Your smile was not as hidden as you attempted for it to be. Namjoon's little encouragements had that effect on you.

"What's that smile for?"

"Oh, nothing." You scarfed down the mini muffin, turning towards Nayeon. "Just happy my makeup artist goes easy on the blush."

She winked, and you felt ready to be sent back into the throes of this film. You weren't keen on Jimin feeling closer to a competitor than a partner in this project, however if that is how he wanted it to be, you were never one to submit so easily. You were determined to level this playing field, and your communion with victory felt like a well-deserved birthright.

"Thought I told you I wanted to go home on time, rookie." You watched his lips shape such venomous words, since his eyes, the unnamed, nearly beautiful presence, might have sunk you back into that state of speechlessness.

"I take it you're not a method actor, since Laurie is so sweet and you're a fucking ass." It felt good for all of one second before a series of reprimands fueled by none other than Namjoon now had you on the brink of apologizing.

"Feisty, huh?" Again, his lips eased out sharp words as if they would not nick the plump skin as it went.

You hoped Joon had nothing to say about how you were now tracing the lush of Jimin's lips. And yes, it had been six months, though you knew your love-ridden heart had yet to free its hands from grabbing hold of Namjoon, still, the feeling of attraction, no matter how brisk it might have been, felt like you were committing adultery. Adultery, over someone who was dead. You weren't the one who left him behind, and at the same time, you never got that shiny patent of closure. There was no break-up, so perhaps that was an explanation as to why your heart was foolishly stuck in love, never realizing its oath to loyalty was graced upon the deceased. 

You thought of love now, while you were supposed to be getting into character. You thought of the one thing you once had held worn so easily, and now you had been chasing it knowing your legs weren’t enough to catch up.

There was a well in your eyes, supplied by the same source which fossilized a ragged lump in your throat. And you must have blinked twice as many times as you normally would since Jimin's eyebrows met halfway between his forehead as he watched you. Or, more disappointingly, he might have noticed your tendency to grow red in more places than just the whites of your eyes when you were about to cry. Holding those tears in hadn't helped with keeping your skin less flushed.

It frustrated you that he might have noticed, which only twisted you tighter into the verge of crying. You knew it was unlikely that his watchfulness of your pre-breakdown expression was due to a lapse of genuine concern. For all you knew, he was subtracting even more value from your worth, plummeting you into negative integers.

And if you weren't so dedicated to your craft, then you wouldn't have the ardor nor the ability to pull off acting like you loved him.

Nayeon is a good makeup artist, I think you have a thick enough cover of foundation and powder to hide it. That of course, along with any sliver of light in this dark tunnel, had always been attributed to Namjoon. He was the reason you kept going, the reason you had been able to get out of bed to drink a glass of water once in a while, the reason you did not completely break down every time a tube of toothpaste fell into your line of vision. Him and the memorialized voice was what chipped the lump free from your throat and dried your tears before they had the chance to spill.

"What-" Whatever motivated Jimin to ask you something had been gone almost immediately after it sprouted.

"Quiet on set!" There was no way you'd figure out what he was going to say if the director had mandated pre-shooting silence.

The rest of your day went accordingly. Nothing too devastating happened that cleared away the momentum of excitement of this being your first big role. Though, not that you weren't beyond grateful for this chance, you made a chore of reminding yourself to be aware of your good fortune.

And, with the help of a few well-placed improvisations that made you seem somewhat of a visionary in your craft, your previous mistake had been washed with water under the bridge in the director's eyes. It escalated your ego and confidence to watch Jimin scavenge for an unpracticed reaction to go along with the slight details or lines you infused into the scene. At a certain point, you could almost describe him as impressed with your acting. Maybe enough to bump your worth up a few decimals, not that that should be occupying your worries.

"Wow, ___! Look's like we hired the right thespian. Great work! By the looks of it, things will flow easier from here." The director, who you finally felt on a first name basis with, approached with a hug. Though, usually this would have sent red alerts, you could tell Seokjin had no ill intentions of the predatory type. "Also, you two have chemistry, but it's not quite there yet. I want this to be believable. There has to be some real life element of camaraderie if this story is going to be genuine."

"So, what exactly are you asking of us?" Jimin, of course, sounded all but thrilled with whatever Seokjin was suggesting even when it hadn't been specified yet. And though you hadn't expressed it outwardly, this aversion for what Seokjin has been suggesting was shared.

"I don't know, get to know each other? Method acting works usually. I mean, Jared Leto did it for that movie and he seemed pretty crazy." The attention was never yours to claim once Jimin had already pressed his phone to his ear and Seokjin was off reevaluating the shots taken today.

You were alone again. Surrounded by an entire crew and cast, but alone nonetheless. Your version of escapism was never as consistent as you needed it to be. All it took was a moment of stillness for you to drift into some place much darker than your current reality. Jordan was sealed away for now, and you were trapped in your own body. It felt horrible. Being you without the man who loved and cared for such a kindred soul felt no different than writhing in pain. Being you without him was empty. Before long, you might have fallen faint in front of your coworkers.

The only target you could acquire as of now was Jimin, taken away from the world for reasons much less burdensome than your own. Where you had a plight of grief to sift through, Jimin had a phone and most likely a supply of friends to text and busy himself with. Seokjin wanted you to get to know him, try your hand at method acting so to speak, and that was the excuse which allowed you to walk over and try to kindle some sort of conversation.

"Hey, so, uh..." The pause came to no avail, since it seemed as though you could have said nothing at all judging from his reaction. "Hey."

It took a fictitious clearing of your throat and three more seconds of unwavering silence to lure his eyes from his phone.

"What?"

As it had been for this entire day, everything involving Jimin was made to be some sort of challenge. A feat you had to overcome without an ounce of reprieve, just to remain standing.

"Seokjin said we should, like, get to know each other. Or, at least get along. I think that's a good idea." His eyes gave absolutely no clues to anything below the exterior of an expressionless face.

"Why are you trying so hard?" You waited for him to laugh, or even for a laugh of your own to slip and loosen the tension. A laugh to make what he just said a joke, victimless banter, because it would have been wildly insulting if that were the most genuine thing he had said to you all day.

"What the hell does that mean?" Your arms were crossed as if that would keep your heart safe from his cruel tactlessness.

"I'm not taking this shit seriously." He laughed, but it wasn't the one that you wanted previously. It sunk wounds deeper, with such a dull edge too. "It's just a side job so people think I'm humble, or whatever my manager said."

The puzzle began to piece together, it took this admittance from Jimin for the picture to emerge from ambiguity. This movie was some form of damage control for his reputation, and that might be because your accurately placed criticisms of his lackluster humbleness did not stand solitarily. Your big break had been reduced to a convenient plot of image reconstruction. You were familiar with anger, it was one of your trickier stages of grief to surmount, but it still affected you to the same degree as before.

He didn't expect a response. You could gather that much from the way he instantly turned back to his phone, rendering you nonexistent once again. Namjoon would have told you to remain civil. But Namjoon was gone. It hurt to think that way, but if his voice hadn't emerged to mitigate this situation now, then Jimin was yours for the taking.

"You're a fucking ass." It seems brash was the only approach to seize immediate attention from Jimin. His eyes widened as if you had grown twice as large and the vision of you wouldn't fit in his narrowed, judgmental glare. "This may be a joke or a throw away gig for you, but this means a lot to me."

"Wanna back off, Jesus. I only-"

"No, I don't wanna back off. I haven't had the best year, and having a co-star that treats me like shit isn't really helping either. And, I get it, you're some sort of elitist who thinks they earned their success." You scoffed, tethering his eyes with yours as though there were a string tying them together. And with each step closer you took, the knot only secured tighter. "But people like you, men like you, don't do shit to earn where they are. But it's so cute the way you think you did! Truly, it's embarrassing watching you flaunt your ego around like you actually have something to be proud of."

"So it's like that, huh? You know, I was almost starting to respect you." The fact that his delivery suggested this was some sort of badge of honor made him all the more pathetic. You should not have put it past Jimin to boast over paying a fundamental level of respect where it's due.

"Wow," You doused a generous layer of sarcasm over your throat so the words came out so. "Basic human decency? From you? How can I ever repay you for such kindness?”

"I said almost."

"You're pathetic."

"Like you're one to talk."

"Yeah, well at least I don't pretend I'm hot shit." The tip of your shoes finally closed the gap between his. Again, you were snared in his warmth, however it didn't feel as tranquil as before. Now, it was closer to a pot of boiling water, evaporating flesh and bone until you were steam floating along the air, bendable and displayed out thinly.

"You don't pretend because you're just that bad of an actor, huh?"

It suffocated you, being this close with him; the blurry details of his face became sharp this way. His eyes were hypnotically watchful of your lips, preparing for your next gambit. You surrendered only a smirk, hoping it would antagonize him. And you could have sworn standing at the furthest point of the Earth from Jimin wouldn't appease this invasive thronging. The universe had yet to expand wide enough to provide an acceptable distance away from him. Until then, you were left with shallow bouts of breath tasting of metallic hatred, hoping those would alchemize into words that would make you seem more intimidating that you really were.

"Please, I could act circles around you. Your performance is transparent. Anyone with a scope of the basics of acting could see through you."

"Is that so?" You hated how quick you had been to notice his tongue slip along his lower lip. He must have found this delicious, patronizing someone who only had 'friend number five' or 'cashier' as proof of their employment. Jimin was greedy, devouring all the blood spilled from his wounding retorts.

In some perverse way, being the focus of his attention had you feeling fulfilled. Jimin, the man commonly sought after among the demographic of teenagers and middle-aged women. Not only were you proving your merits of qualification to act alongside him, but you had something to prove to yourself. You weren't going to let Jimin push you around without pushing him right back. You were strong enough to fight. It seemed to have come natural to you to enjoy provoking anger in him. It felt as if you were finally accomplishing something that was unattainable to anyone else. 

And even if you wanted to retreat, his gaze guaranteed your obedience. It was a battle, along with every other exchange you have had with him. Even when silence was the only parcel between you two, when the only semblance of noise was heavy, jaded inhales, it felt as though you and he were at wits to gather more air than the other. To see who would fall breathless first.

"You're pathetic." His words hit like physical blows, and you might have had to check for bruises along your ribs and torso from the churning sensation in your stomach.

"If I'm pathetic, I don't know what that makes you." You wanted your rebuttal to feel like fire. You wanted to scorch and sear blisters along his flawless skin for proof of any successful hit. “A privileged boy with enough of daddy’s money to get him any job he wants. But, I’m the pathetic one?”

He appeared unscathed, with one end of his lips rugged upwards, mocking you without needing any of the words to do so. Perhaps he'd gotten the best of you, as you were searching through your arsenal of refutes only to find it overspent. It would not have surprised you to discover his supply of acidic insults piling without a visible dent. 

His eyes looked fully employed in studying you, and you felt disrobed to be under such scrutiny from a stranger. Jimin seemed to have been reading you like words on a page, armed with a twisted smile that was unnervingly addictive, but you tried your hardest to keep your book closed. You didn’t want him to know how weak you really were.

"God, you're so-"

"Oh, great! Both of you are still here." Seokjin's voice reminded you that there was a world of events beyond you and Jimin. For a moment, you had felt secluded into a universe constructed especially for any collateral destruction that might have come of whatever war was about to be waged. "I have some notes for you two. Go home, read, digest, and come prepared tomorrow! I have full confidence in the two of you."

"Thanks." Succinct yet not lacking any tonal sentiment, Jimin got the first word in with the director, leaving you scrambling to find yours.

"Thank you." You were frustrated in how recycled your responses felt after Jimin handled them. Actors like you always fed on scraps of the higher-ups, and they were never as appetizing or filling as you would hope.

"See ya, ___." Your name sounded awful on his tongue, like his voice had filtered out the good parts of it and the waste remained spilling from his lips. Like dirt or decayed flesh, or both, and saying your name was akin to saying a slur.

"Fuck you." Those words couldn't sift through your screwed jaw or muffled throat, but it gave you satisfaction that it had been said in the slightest.

It wasn't until you were halfway to the bus stop that the realization pummeled you down a hole you hadn’t recollected being dredged. That whole time, what might have been the product of a mere ten minutes, was the longest segment you had gone without thinking of him.

It was the most intimately you had ever engaged in a conversation with someone other than the late, imagined voice in your head. And it was the most you've gone without consulting with said voice before speaking. You simply spoke, and listened, and responded; like you were normal. You couldn't tell whether that was good, because maybe you would finally be able to move forward with the world, perhaps catch up with the life you were supposed to be living. But, at the same time, the guilt festering something acrid in the pit of your stomach had you convinced this wasn't entirely sunny skies and bright futures.

"I'm sorry." What frightened you, besides your mental slip to keep the words meant for Namjoon in your head, was the unreturned sound of his ringing through. It took the longest ten seconds of your life for the mental silence to be furtively trimmed by your own train of thoughts.

Jimin had done this to you, that you were entirely sure of. Jimin and his carnivorous tongue and greedy glare had drained your head of its second conscious. The one it had adopted when Namjoon's body could no longer harbor it. And that's how he lived on, through you.

Jimin took that away, somehow. You could almost kill him for it, but you had not favored a life in prison nor tabloids that headlined the Park Jimin being murdered or 'Crazy, Jealous Co-star On Murderous Rampage Targets Jimin'. So, for the time being, all that was accessible was quiet hatred.

And you took that over nothing. You hated Park Jimin.

#bangtanarmynet #ficswithluv #btsgoldnet #bts fanfic #bts writing #bts angst #bts x reader #bts series #jimin fanfic #jimin angst #jimin enemiestolovers!au #actor!jimin #jimin x reader #jimin series #bts enemies to lovers #in the stars tonight #rubycoast

[rimaiahwrites]

Best friend—

Part four

Erik said that he would text Israel and he kept his word, he had been texting her and They were really building a good friendship from talking on the phone late at night while her parents were asleep to texting through out the day. Erik was a escape for her from her family and he was fine with that.

He knew she needed a break from her family from time to time so if he could give her that for a couple hours a day he was going to do it. And she was the friend that he was missing in his life. He liked to hang out with her. She brought a little excitement to his life.

He knew they stressed her out, especially her father. She had opened up to him a bit about her life and the way she grow up, but not a lot since they were still getting to know each other. She didn't want to just dump that on him like that.

it was now 3:20 and she was on her way to her favorite cafe because she could literally feel her tummy eating itself. Her cousin jasmine was supposed to come with her but she had plans already, so she texted Erik to see if he could come sit with her. He wasn't busy like she thought he would be but she was happy that she was going to spend some time with him, to get to know him a little better.

Israel drove her own car so her parents wouldn't question her and she slightly regretted that- no that was a understatement, it was a huge mistake. Normally when she came to this cafe her cousin was with her and she was like her security guards from random, trusty niggas that she had no interest in. but since she was by herself men were flocking to her.

Specifically this one that she hated the most, Troy.

She was to shy to tell him to leave her alone and she knew it would be rude to just walk away so she just stood there listening to the man flirt with her and make inappropriate jokes that pretended she didn't get. She knew for a fact that jasmine would save her from this situation, it was a known fact that jasmine would cut a nigga dick off if they tried it with her best friend. Even though she would joke about her needing to let one of these random guys that came up to her take her virginity, it was all fun and games.

she would beat her ass if she let one of these guys Touch her without at least taking her to dinner- even that wasn't enough.

She didn't think these little boys were good enough for her little cousin.

"So why you always avoiding me babygirl? You know I been trying to break ya spine for months now So wassup?" He smirked looking her up and down with lustful eyes that made her uncomfortable, this whole conversation made her uncomfortable. Her mouth dropped slightly but she quickly picked it back up and ignored him by pretending to be getting a text knowing damn well her phone was dry as hell. "Oh so you can't hear me now?" She sigh and put her phone back into her pocket.

"Listen I like you- well I mean you- you seem like a nice guy but I'm not really looking for anyone to date at the moment but-" he snorted and stopped her with a finger pointing up. "I'm not looking for anyone to date ether I'm just trying to bust your pussy open then I'll bounce. You acting like you to good for a nigga or something."

"We- well I am T-to be honest, you're making me feel uncomfortable." Israel stammered to get her words out sounding like a child who was talking back to a parent, that was still low key scared as hell of them. The man open his mouth again but it seemed like his mouth was stuck open and his eyes were glued to whatever or whoever was behind her. She whipped her head around and thanked the loud up above to see Erik standing behind her.

"Sorry I'm late Princess." She was suddenly comfortable knowing Erik was there with her. Erik's eyes finally laid on the boy and troy jumped up from his seat. "Who's this nigga?" Erik asked rudely, almost offered that he was sitting in his seat. "I was just talking To her until you got here-

"Um no, Actually he was harassing me this whole time, he wouldn't leave me alone." Erik stepped closer to the boy and looked down at him, since he was much taller then him.

"Oh so you one of them creep ass niggas huh?"

the boy was practically shaking at this point. Erik grabbed the front of his shirt and shoved him out of the booth, almost making him fall. "You want me to beat yo ass don't you," the boy shook his head frantically. "N-nah didn't mean to make her uncomfortable I was just talking to her, It wasn't even like that-" Erik snorted out a laugh. "Cut the bullshit and Get yo bitchass outta here, Before I beat yo ass." Erik hissed.

The boy jumped up from the ground and almost ran to the door, tripping over his own feet. Israel snorted out a laugh and quickly covered her mouth, watching until the boy was out of the cafe and down the street. Erik smiled at her and sat across from her in the booth. "Wow...I wasn't....expecting my afternoon to go in this decision but thank you for getting him out of my face."

"Nah it's coo' I like intimidating weak ass niggas, plus I could tell you really was uncomfortable from the moment I saw the look of your face." He chuckled but was dead serious. She smiled shyly slightly tapping her nails on the table as it got quiet between the two. Israel cleared her throat catching his attention. "So what you been here before" She asked picking up her menu to scan over it, her eyes laid on the blueberry bliss smoothie and a plan Turkey sandwich. "Yeah. This was my favorite place to come when I was about 15...they smoothies hit different." She giggled and agreed before ordering one, he ordered the same.

The waiter finally came back with their food and Israel wasted no time to take the biggest bite of her Turkey sandwich, stuff her mouth without even realizing it. Erik chuckled at her with his fist to his mouth. "Damn girl, you that hungry?" She swallowed before taking a another bite. Her head tilted to the right, "hmm?" She hummed questionably, with chubby cheeks. "You cute as hell," he mumbled to her grinning ear to ear. She was very Quick to get bashful and shy away from him once he said that. "Thank you..." she whispered now looking out of the window shyly. Erik brought his hand to her chin and turned her face towards him. His bottom lip was in between his teeth and his hand held a form grip. "Why you so bashful babygirl?" He whispered back mocking her, his voice deep and raspy. She shrugged.

"Why do you....do that?"

"Do what?" He asked Dropping His Hand from her chin to her hand, his thick fingers caressing her soft hand. She shivered slightly from the contact and almost died right then and there from the embarrassment that wash over her. He smirked and titled his head almost mockingly.

"You do that thing when you speak really softly and frown your eyebrows while titling your head, it's like you're trying to make me blush." Israel Gushed, feeling her cheeks get hot. Erik chuckled softly still holding her hand. Israel looked down at where their fingers connected and felt butterflies in her belly. She wanted to pull her hand away and eat her sandwich to distract her from the feeling in her stomach because she didn't like it, she didn't want to catch a crush on a man that probably had no interest in her- but her kept her dainty hand in his, tightening the grip on his hand.

"I don't know how to feel about it..." she laughed it off awkwardly, she said out loud not really meaning to but it was out in the open now. His eyebrows raised and his hand slowly began to let hers go. "My bad ma, I ain't mean to make you uncomfortable," he said and let her hand go completely without a second thought, trying to make her feel bad and sure enough Israel heart dropped a little and guilt began to creep in, he saw it in the way her face dropped to disappoint. He almost laughed, playing with this girl's emotions were fun to him for some reason. One moment he was making her blush the next he was embarrassing her, it was like a little game he liked to play when he was around her just for the sake of it.

"I...I wasn't uncomfortable I was just saying-....nevermind." She mumbled and ate her sandwiche some more trying to not make a awkward situation more awkward...well for her it was awkward, Erik was loving it. Not awkward for him at all.

He sipped on his smoothie and kept his eyes glued to her movements, sandwich. Smoothie, Then Repeat. After she was done eating she just sat and stared at the table tapping her nails on it.

He stared at her waiting for her to look him in the eyes but that never came and honestly he didn't really expected it to, being how shy he knew she could get.

"You act different when you on the phone and when you talking to me in person, why is that?" He asked. She shrugged and bite her lip. When Erik didn't move his eyes from her, she sighed.

"I don't know, I guess because I feel like I'm not really there with you when I'm on the phone and if it gets awkward I can hang up but in person I just have to deal with it... I hate being so awkward, I feel like I annoy people when I'm like this." She mumbled the last part, like she was embarrassed. Erik hummed taking a another sip of his smoothie. He leaned back in his seat his eyes starring intensely into her. She let a shaky breath, flicking her eyes at him because avoiding them once again.

"Your shyness isn't annoying to me, it's kind of refreshing to be around someone so innocent." He assured her. Tapping her on the nose with his finger. She smiled brightly, feeling her anxiety slightly fade a bit.

Erik could see that she clearly had anxiety that she didn't know about and dealt with overthinking little things, hue the reason why she felt like she was a burden to people. Probably from childhood trauma, Erik would know since he had also dealt with issues that was deep rooted from childhood trauma.

"Well...tell me about you...what are some of your hubby's?" Erik snorted jokily at the random question...but now that he thought about it he didn't think he had any. Everything he did revolved around his future, and plans to get where he wanted to be. He didn't have any extra time to have 'hobby's' so he simply replied-

I don't have any."

"You don't have Any? None at all?" He shook his head smiling at her. "Does fucking count?" He asked in a hushed voice so the people behind him in the other booth didn't hear. Israel choked on her smoothie a bit from whipping her mouth with a napkin.

"No, it doesn't count as a hobby- She hissed trying not to laugh. Erik cracked a smile. -nasty ass." She added smirking slightly. He chuckled silently, shoulders bouncing.

"Well...Nah I don't, I don't got the time anymore." He said picking up his phone to check the time. Israel hummed, with a teasingly smirk on her face.

"Doing what? Fucking?" She asked sarcastically, throwing her strew paper at him as he choked out a loud laugh.

"Actually I do more then just fuck, Israel. I have PhD in Engineering and an MBA from MIT, and teach the youth." He said in a matter-of-fact tone. Leaving out the navy...

Israel was more then impressed by Erik, and it showed on her face. Her face lit up when she heard him mention the youth. It was a passion and a dream job of hers to work with children, especially the youth of the black community. She didn't know what exactly she wanted to do in the near future but she knew it was definitely going to revolve around children.

"Wow...I'm very impressed, I already took you as a smart guy but graduating from M.I.T with PhD and an MBA? you a damn genius! Not to mention you work with children also..." she smiled brightly. Erik was literally a dream man for her. If he would asked her to marry her she would've said yes in a heart beat.

"Thanks princess, you must love kids. I saw the way your eyes lit up even more when I brought them up." Erik said studying her closely. Which wasn't that hard, as she began to open up bit by bit.

"I do! I wanna work with kids but I'm just sure what exactly I would want to do yet, but I know I want to help the youth of the black community- she gushed. Her eyes full of light as she spoke about children. - black children are just the sweetest most innocent being In the world, I just feel the need to protect them from any harm ya know? I know what it's like to feel alone and unwanted as a little black girl growing up with nothing but light skin cousins with so called 'good hair' and not getting any attention. and that's the last thing I want for other little black girls or even little black boys that think they're not good enough." She gave erik a sadden smile, as she picked at the left over Turkey sandwich.

"It's sad these black motherfuckers still programmed and brainwashed as fuck and it's 2017...niggas will bash a dark-skin girl but be the same skin complexion, talk badly about a light skin niggas then turn around and praise a white women and end up making a light skin nigga." Erik rolled his eyes shaking his head. Almost ashamed of his people.

Erik found all of his people beautiful. Dark skin, brown skin, light skin. It was all black, it was all the same history. All the same ancestors. All the same experiences.

Israel grinned. It was almost surprising that he agreed with her from the count less arguments she has had with her brothers and male cousins about the topic.

After two hours of laughter and sharing funny story about random shit, Israel and Erik actually say they were friends. It wasn't hard for them to get along or talk once Erik broke the ice with Israel.

She had finally fully broke out of her shell and Erik soon realized that this girl was full of brightness and energy. The good energy that he needed in his dark life.

For the first time in a long time he actually took time out to be himself, the old him his friends missed. The Erik before he let the darkness of the world take over his mind, spirit and soul.

"I can't believe you haven't been to the beach in five years! We're in California that all we do here!" She said with a playful look of disbelief on her face.

"Girl didn't I tell you I don't have time to do shit most of the time? I got more important shit to do then go lay out in sun." He chuckled shaking his head.

"Erik you keep saying you don't have time to do anything But you have time to hang out with me?" She asked softly cracking her head to the right. Smirking cockily. Erik snorted before putting his phone back in his pocket.

"Actually I don't, I gotta go now ma." He stood leaning on his Palms towards her face. His eyes gazing up and down her smooth face. Her breath hitched in her throat as she saw him began to lean in.

"Ion get a goodbye kiss from you princess?" He asked, his lips faintly brushing over hers. She almost broke out into a fit of laughter.

"Damn you really don't remember what a friendship is huh??" She whispered, looking him in the eyes with a daring look. She leaned away from his face and pushed his face away. With a high smooth, "bye bye Erik." While waving him off, as he gave her a look of annoyance, only making her giggling.

———

Two weeks later Erik found himself trying to convince her to sneak out for him but she was a bit hesitant since all her brothers plus her dad was home. "Iz, look you'll be back before the sun comes back up, I promise." He stressed.

"Yeah that's what you said last time and I almost got caught-"

"Well that won't happen again, you have to come because I'm outside." He chuckled. Israel hopped up from her bed and went over to her window, and sure enough there his hard headed ass was. Parked in her drove away in one of his expensive sports cars. Israel rolled her eyes and hang up on him without warning. Just giving up on trying to stay in bed and go back to sleep.

Israel tipped toed to the door in nothing but her oversized soft pink t-shirt and her white bunny slippers. She opened the door as slow as she could and it still creeped. She cringed at the loud sound and stopped her Motion, then huff out a breath once she realized nobody was gonna come and see what the noise was. She slipped through the door and skipped to the all black car with the tinted windows. She opened the door and grinned at the giant ass man that sat right in front of her smirking.

"You so ugly why you recording me?" She giggled grabbing his phone out of his hand to take pictures. "Cuz you pretty as hell why else? Smart ass." She posed for the picture with a big white smile on her face and gave him back the phone.

"Aww thank you, now make that your wallpaper." She said batting her eyelashes sweetly at him. "Your already my wallpaper..." Erik smile picking up the phone to show her the picture of her with the nerdy Snapchat flitter and a pout placed on her lips. It was a picture that she had sent to him the other week when she got bored. She could've swear Her heart swilled ten sizes bigger. She placed her hand over her chest, poking her lip out. "That's really sweet...." she cooed pinching his Dempled cheek. He smacked her hand away playfully turning his head towards the window trying to hide his blush, But he knew she still saw.

"Bro I'm about to leave yo' ass here if you keep treating me like a little boy." She rolled her eyes and put her seatbelt on, slumping into the cool White leather seat comfortably. "You wouldn't do that to me plus I wanted to stay home remember?" He raised his eyebrow before smirking. "Mm. I guess you right, you fun to hang out with or whatever." She dusted off her shoulder cockily and licked her lips dramatically like a nigga that know they was the shit. "I know." She said in a fake deep voice that made Erik laugh.

"You a fucking goof ball, but anyway what you want to do?" She thought for a second before a idea popped up in her head. "Let's go to the movies." She squealed excitedly.

"Can I drive too?" He shrugged his shoulders, switching seats with her. "You better not scratch my shit ether." He hissed pointing his finger in her face, but nonetheless let her drive to the 30 minutes it took to get where she wanted to go to.

They pulled up to the movie theater and they both hoped out. "Do you even know what you want to go see?" Erik asked as he watched Israel scratch her head while looking at the movie posters. "Yeah that!" She said pointing to a random poster.

"50 shades of gray?" He said with a scrunched up face. "Ohh Yeah let's see, he fine." Israel said wigging her eyebrows at mr. gray.

"Ion wanna see no skinny thin haired white bitch get slapped on the ass with a horse whip for a two hours straight, Nah." Israel rolled her eyes and pulled him towards the Candy and popcorn stand in the front. Erik dragged his feet, not wanting to watch this movie at all. The whole plot just seems like it was for horny 15-year-old girls. a cheesy teeny flick.

Israel got their popcorn and candy and headed to the Theater.

"Two tickets for 50 shade of gray please." Her soft voice rang out to the young boy, that seemed about her age. His eyes flicked to her, and immediately his bottom lip was sucked into his mouth. He grinned at her and winked as he handed the tickets to her. "Enjoy the movie." Israel blushed and smiled back at him, keeping eye contact while reaching for the tickets. Erik Leaned towards Israel, wrapping his left arm around her shoulders, pulling her back into his chest. Not liking the way he was looking at her. He couldn't help it, he was a jealous man. even if she wasn't his girl, Even if he had only known her for three weeks.

He didn't like that shit.

He snatch the tickets out of the boy's hand, and his deep voice nearly scared the boy. "we will." Erik said pulling Israel into the dark hallway. Israel glanced at him suspiciously, with a smirk on her lips. Before snorting out a laugh.

Erik's face snapped towards her, eyebrows raised. "What?" He said acting as if he didn't know what was she talking about.

She tapped his arm that was still around her shoulders and neck. "you can let go now, I think he got the point." She said cockily. With a grin on her face. Erik slightly pulled away from her, but was still standing close enough that she could feel his hot minty breath on her neck.

"My bad ma, he gave off a weird vibe." Erik mumbled, even though he didn't really get a weird vibe from him. He just didn't want Israel know he was a bit too over protective when it came to his Women. He knew that was one of his toxic traits, but he couldn't help it. It just made his blood boil seeing a another man having his eyes on the woman he was with. He found it disrespectful. If you see him right behind her why flirt with her? Even if you don't know for sure, 9 times outta 10 if you see a man out with a girl at the movie Theater and it's only the two of them, they're on a date.

But niggas didn't give a fuck, and Erik couldn't be to mad because he knew that he had stolen some niggas bitches in the past.

"Really? Cuz I kinda got big dick Energy, he was fine and charming too." Israel said trying to hold in a laugh, whiles watching his face. Erik didn't know if he wanted to get mad or be confused. Because one: Israel did talk like this and two: why the fuck was she telling him this.

Erik pulled away from her with a Quickness. "Big dick energy? All the nigga said was enjoy the movie....- he said now walking ahead of her to find their seats. Israel bit her tongue before she blow her cover from laughing. She was going to try and mess with him all night.

-Talking bout' big dick energy the fuck she ain't even had dick before so how she know about..." he stopped once he realized he was talking out loud and she was now on the side of him, eyebrows raised with amused look on her face. "Oh? I don't know about big dick energy cuz I ain't never had dick, how you know that? Cuz if I remember correctly I was just getting dicked down yesterday by my friend trey...he not only have big dick energy but also a big dick, nice long and thick. I could feel it all the way in my guts." She whispers to him, her soft lips just faintly brushing over the shell of his ear.

Erik grunted, plopping down on his seat next to her. He didn't know if he wanted to be mad that she just told him someone else was in her guts or turned on by the softness of her voice.

Israel laughed loudly, making the people in front of them turn their heads towards her, annoyed. Only making her laugh harder, tears were filling her eyes.

She tried to hide her face in Erik's arm but he Shrugged her off, making her snap her head back. "Are you mad?" She whispered when the movie started.

"Nah," was all he said, eyes still on the screen. Israel smacked her lips and side-eyed him. "Baby..." she mumbled, stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth. The vibe was ruined.

-

The whole movie Erik didn't speak or even look at Israel. And nether did Israel. Two could play at this game. This very childish stupid game. As they were walking out Israel was stopped by the ticket boy. He was brown skin and skinny. White teeth, and slam but built nicely, fit arms. About 5'10. And His red work shirt and thin gold chin went great against his bronzy skin.

"aye wait," he yelled at her, jogging over to her. With a corny ass smile on his face. Israel eyes flickering to Erik then back to the boys, a cocky smile planted on her face.

Erik huffed and stuffed his hands in his front pocket, while he watched the corny ass little boy spit game. "I'm Tyler, and I was wondering if I could have your number? You just fine as hell ma why haven't I seen you around here?" Israel and Erik both cringed at the weak pick up but Israel acted like she was flattered just to get under Erik's skin.

"I'm Israel and I don't really...watch movies that much? but yeah you can have my number." She said taking his phone trying to hurry and type her number in so she could get herself out of this awkward Situation. She handed him his phone and he stuffed it in his pocket. "Text me, for real don't leave me hanging."

"Ok I will, maybe we could hang out some time to? Maybe your place? I live with my parents." She suggested eyes never leaving the boy's. He lick his lips nodding his head softly. "Alright bet, I'll send you my address just hit me when you ready." She nodded and they just stood there staring at each other. And Erik just stood behind Israel, starring at them, starring at each other.

"Come on princess." Erik hiss, after getting tired of looking at their dumbasses. Erik was shocked with Israel behavior, she was never this confident or comfortable with him. So why was she with this random nigga she just met?

He pulled her by her waist to the door, and to the car. He opened the car door for her and waited for her to get in. "Whatcha going girl, Get the fuck in." He said harshly trying to push her a little. But all she did was cross her Arms and pout like a Toddler when you tell them they can't have something.

"Israel, get in the damn car I ain't got time for this childish shit- she laughed sarcastically. "Oh so I'm the one acting childish? You were just in there huffing and puffing like a teenaged girl- "so like you?" He cut her off. She shut the car door, and leaned against it. She was acting stubborn as fuck, and Erik was being impatient.

"You're acting like child -"

"Ok and? your acting like a bitch so," she mumbled out before she could stop herself. She knew she fucked up when Erik just stood there blinking like he couldn't believe what she was saying. "I'm acting like a what?" He asked coming closer to her. She bit her lip and look out into the distance, trying to ignore him. But he was so big that he covered her view of the other cars in the parking lot.

Erik gripped her Jew and snapped her face to his, Shocking her bit. It wasn't a joke anymore. He was actually mad and it scared her. This was the first he has even touched her so aggressively.

His eyes were hard and his whole demeanor was Intimidating. His shoulders were squared like he was ready to fight.

"What you just called me? Say it, say it again." He dared her.

Maybe she went to far with the joke. She thought to herself.

She gulped and crossed her arms trying to look unbothered. She opened her mouth and once again she was speaking without realizing what she was saying- I call you a bitc-" she try to spit out but Erik was quick with his Motions, and Israel found herself slammed against the car door with Erik thick hands around her neck. "You most really think I won't fuck your tiny ass up," his hissed trying to control himself a little bit. She gasped softly trying to breath with his hands tightened around her throat. "E-Erik i-"

"Don't you ever fix your lips to call me a bitch again, I don't disrespect you so don't disrespect me, now get your ass in the car. NOW." He raised his voice a tiny bit, but he didn't have to. All he did was put a little bass in his voice and she was shaking in her boots.

He let her go and she was in the car and buckled up in the matter of seconds.

He stormed over to his side of the car and got in. He looked over to Israel and her head was down and sniffles were coming from her, and Erik heart dropped a bit. He tried to ignore her but he saw the tears running down her face and onto her shirt and he finally cracked and thought that Maybe he was to aggressive with her.

"Izzy?" He called softly making her look up. Her eyes were red and puffy and her nose was runny. Her infamous pout was planted on her lips and as bad as Erik felt he thought she looked adorable.

"Princess I didn't mean to make you cry and I'm sorry but you can't just be saying shit like that to people-" she crossed her arms and turn her head to the window.

"I wanna go home." Was all she said.

"So you mad at me now ma?" She nodded her head, keeping her head on the window. Erik rolled his eyes and started the car.

-

The whole car ride Israel didn't speak or even look at Erik once. He even when he tried to get her to speak she didn't budge.

They were now on the side of her house and before she could get the door open, Erik grabbed her by the shirt and pulled her to his chest in a tight embrace. Her face settling the crack of his neck. It was warm and smelled like Cologne, it was so soothing that Israel almost forgot why she was mad.

"Stop being a brat Izzy, fore' I spank ya little ass, I said I was sorry..." he mumbled against her cheek before pulling her away from his neck.

"You forgive me?" He asked, his face so close that to hers that she could feel his breath on her lips. Her breathing quicken and Her bottom lip trembled from waning him to connect their lips.  The feel of them still fresh in her memory, soft, warm and moist.

Her thighs clenched as he finally pulled her closer and smashed his lips against hers.

The moan she had been holding in since out side of the Theater was finally released.

She hated to say that she was extremely turn on from him telling her want to do but she reacted in the only way she knew how and that was catching a attitude. She would've have thought in a million years being demanded would be a turn on for her.

His lips controlled and guided her. His slick tongue fighting with her. The taste of each other mixing in their mouths.

It all had a puddle building up in Israel's Lace pink panties.

Her body was getting hot and Erik could feel the heat from her pussy on his knee. He wanted to touch her so bad, he wanted to finger fuck her badly but he held himself back once again.

He pulled back before it could go any further. He knew he wasn't going to be able to hold out any longer if he didn't. He leaned her back into her seat keeping his face close to her acting as if he was gonna kiss her again but instead he opened her door.

She huffed and went to leave out the door only to be yanked back in.

"Cut that brat shit out Izzy, imma see you again in a little bit princess. Promise." He spoke softly. pecking her on the lips a few more time with a bite of her bottom lip, before sending her on her way.

Once he made sure she made it inside the house safely, it tugged at his heart. She was his perfect distraction, not having to think about his destiny or his traumatic past for a couple of hours was pure bliss.

She was his bliss.

[leroiloup]

「    this is a total, 100% “woe-is-me” negativity post, so be warned. I try not to post anything too personal or emotional on this blog, but the truth is, I need an outlet right now. I don’t have a personal tumblr anymore, and tbh, I don’t really want to put this on FB where all my IRL friends would see it. I’m putting this under a read more so y’all can scroll on by and not worry about it. But also, it’s here, so it ain’t a secret. If you want to watch a train wreck, read on.

» » » The moral of this story is going to be that for the next couple of days, I’m gonna be less present on the dash, and just tending to my drafts ( along with developing my OC more because he brings me joy rn ).

Wow, you clicked the Read More. Aren’t you a sick fuck ? Just kidding, you’re my kind of people. I hope your popcorn is ready. If are you continuing, I’d like to give you some disclaimers : literally none of the following is directed at any one individual or group of individuals. There is not an ounce of guilt that’s meant to be transferred. This is 100% my own bullshit as I’m dealing with me. I’m going to complain about RP, but please keep that in mind ; this is all about my own insecurities.

To start, everyone is dealing with a lot right now, let’s not have any delusions about that. Shit in general fucking blows. Personally speaking, I don’t like talking about my emotions or the things truly bothering me. I guarantee that if I ever whine about something, then there’s something much deeper that’s effecting me. As of right now, I’ve identified both : the surface issue that I’m taking my frustrations out on, and the deeper problems that’s the root of what’s going on.

So let’s start with the the deep shit, shall we ? This’ll give better insight as to why I’m struggling mentally with RP at the moment. I’m the kind of person IRL that’s a loner. I’m in my 30′s, but I’ve never had a serious relationship in my life. I don’t have a lot of friends ( but I do have a couple of really good ones ). I tend to just deal with shit on my own. I live alone, I take care of myself. And honestly, all of that is ok because there’s something magical that I have had : my career. I moved to the other side of the country at a young age by myself with one goal, and that was to edit film trailers. And goddamn it, in April 2019, I DID IT ! I mean, I’ve been in that industry since day 1, climbing the ladder, but last April, I was promoted to editor. It was the greatest feeling in the world. I still had a long way to go to prove myself, but I felt like my whole life was worth it for the place that I made it to. Well, this past March ( yes, just 2 weeks shy of my 1st year mark as an editor ) I was laid off due to COVID. Now, I’ve gotten a couple of odd editing jobs here and there, but I’m floundering. I suddenly can’t pay my bills, I can’t even buy proper groceries, but worst of all ? I just sit around all day. Alone. In my apartment. With no sense of direction or purpose. I feel like I lost a whole part of myself ; like I lost who I am as a human being. It’s this terrible, downward spiral of feeling like I don’t even exist anymore. Like who am I without the one thing I identified myself as ? Do I even matter anymore ? My friends are still working, but I’m.... not. I may not have been the pretty one, the witty one, the interesting one, or the loved one, but goddamnit, I was the independent one. I didn’t live a glamorous life, but I have a sweet apartment in a great area all by myself, and traveled, and treated myself to expensive clothing. I lived that Destiny Child’s Independent Woman life. And now ? It’s a big deal trying to decide if I can afford to buy cheese for my turkey sandwiches.

So let’s move this sob story onto the superficial, dumbass things that are bothering me. Like that’s real world shit right ? But I don’t like dwelling on real world problems. I handle it and move on. Yet my heart still hurts so I tend to focus on something less important as my excuse. Enter literally the only other thing I have going on rn RP. Man, I have the best writing partners and the best threads, let me tell you ! When I say I love my dash, I’m not just blowing smoke up y’all’s asses. I mean it. Sometimes I just sit and stare at my drafts in awe. But lately, my brain is frustrated. See, I’m not the Indie RP type. I can’t deal with a thousand different threads and interact with everyone, as much as I’d like to. My brain just doesn’t work that way. I prefer to live in my small corner and have a partner with whom our muses are deeply developed. Like full on universes with stories about different parts of their relationship’s timeline and with NPCs and fucking pinterest boards and shit. Y’all know what I’m talking about. A partner who tags me in shit because they see a post on their dash and it made them think of me. A partner who can just send my muse random asks about shit because they’re bored. A partner I can throw wild fangirly comments at in DMs at all hours of the day because something inspired me, or something made me think of our muses. You see, I had it once. On my Dean Winchester account, I met someone and our muses man... we didn’t plan that shit but they clicked and we were inseparable. It was so amazing. But I can’t write Dean anymore and even though I’m still very good friends with that mun IRL, they don’t write anymore. I feel like I’ve been chasing that high ever since, but it’s just gone.

Like, I just did that positivity night, right ? I really needed the boost and nothing helps like giving out compliments, and it worked. Believe me. I was so tickled by the responses and getting to force myself to think of wonderful things about my partners ( which is easy to do, lbr ). But a couple of people went above and beyond and sent it in as a request for someone else. God, how fucking cool ? But then my stupid brain takes over and reminds me that I don’t have a partner going out of their way like that for me. And god, what a selfish thing to think, right ? This is all good vibes, and I genuinely wanted to make other people smile, but I can’t help but have half my mind say “but what about me ?”. So lame. Especially since I never ask for help so who is even gonna know that need the pick me up ? Ugh. But I’m too chickenshit to ever send someone a meme to make them compliment me. Hell, I’m too chickenshit to like people’s posts when they ask for mains. A voice in my head is like “nah man, keep that shit for other, more qualified candidates. You have good threads, calm down.” But I dunno, sometimes I feel like I have a ton of threads, but that’s all they are ? The fillers ? Sure, it’s great writing, but it doesn’t go anywhere. It’s not meant to build anything for people, it’s just to give them something to do to pass the time while they’re building universes with their mains.

Could I be more selfish ? Like really. But that’s the thing : it’s my desolate feeling of complete lack of purpose in life bleeding into the one thing I’m trying to keep my mind distracted with. Do I hate RP ? No. Do I resent anyone on my dash ? Fuck no ! I love all of you and I’m incredibly grateful for anyone that interacts with me. But sometimes I see some magical friendships here and I just... I want that, man. I miss it. I want purpose again, in any facet of my life. I want to be excited again ; about ANYTHING. I’m tired of bobbing around like a cork on the sea of life. 

I wish I meant more.    」

#:: ᴅᴇʀʀɪᴇ̀ʀᴇ ʟᴇ ʀᴏɪ | ᴏᴏᴄ #negativity tw

[solastia]

Day 5

Feel So Right, Yoongi x Reader, 3/? Chapters, 5.8 K words so far, mention of Domestic Abuse

Ok, so I was trying to hold off on writing about this one, but like...I have no self control, hehehehe. It kept calling my name and I said fuck it, I’mma read it again right freaking now. 

If anyone, ANYONE, comes at me for liking this fic because it’s a cliche Knight in Shining Armor fic, I will punch you in the throat! Let me live in my beautiful, rose tinted delusion. Thanks!!! And if I ever feel the need to be rescued by a man, please believe I’mma let it be Yoongi. 

Ok, let’s start with some extremely endearing details I just freaking love in this fic. Yoongi ruffling his hair early in the morning, wearing Iron Man jammies, the MC’s Bulbasaur slippers, and ofc the fact that the chubby pug in the story it PoTAEto. I know it’s not written that way in the story, but that’s how my mind read it. :D

UUGH HOW CUTE CAN THEY BE?!?!

Ok, let’s get into this beauty!

Warning to anyone reading this, there are mentions of domestic abuse, please skip this if it bothers you.

“She was sporting a few bruises that she must have gotten during the move, making him wonder why she didn’t have help.” 

I’m ready to throw down. This ONE statement coupled with an earlier one about screaming...GURL I am ready to throw down for our MC. We don’t even really know her yet and I’m ready to throw hands for her. We know where this is going! You are able to very quickly have the audience rooting for our MC. Amazing!

Ok, our MC’s “man”. Talk about wanting to punch people in the throat. You could feel her light diminish the instant he walked in. And Yoongi was ready to throw down too! Bless his heart. AHHHH and now for chapter 2…

Our mans Yoongi over there being able to gauge our MC’s mood by what she’s playing on her guitar :D 

Someone is smitten!!!

And I have to ask, that one comment about our MC liking the Chainsmokers and Yoongi  being “highly offended”. This was before our boys collabed with them, right? Any comments about this line? Lol

The banter between our MC and Yoongi is so freaking sweet. His comments still have a little bit of bite to them, because it’s Yoongi of course. But you can see that it’s all playful, and she reciprocates. It’s so freaking sweet and cute AHHHHH!

“Yoongi snorts and brings two heaping bowls of stew to the table, purposely ignoring the giant wedding photo above it. He’d already inspected it a few too many times; his wayward imagination often envisioning himself next to the beaming beauty draped in ivory lace.”

YOONGI...my man...maybe you’re waay past smitten. Dayum our boy has fallen hard in just a few months!

“He smiles softly as she enthusiastically eats the food he made, every now and then releasing a pleased moan that made his pants feel a little tight.”

:]

I’mma just leave that right there. Enough said, really.

“She quirks her eyebrow and waves to signal ‘go on you slow asshole.’”

OUR GIRL HAS BITE TOO! YESSS! I love female characters who are complex like this. She has a personality! She’s funny, sweet, smart, and cute! You flesh her out with just a few descriptions and lines. Something you do very well! Do you plan all this out in advance, or do you just wing it?? I’m curious!

“As they enjoy their dessert together, Y/N spends the time asking about the song and trying to get a feel for the emotions behind it so she would know how to play. Yoongi did his best, describing the sense of melancholy and wonderment behind the words without giving himself away. Words of adoration and every other emo emotion that Yoongi felt poured onto paper. 

Words about her.”

Just like...kill me now. I cry. I CRY.

Wow, our boy is a goner, waxing poetically about her skill, her smile, her scent. Your descriptions are gorgeous. Madam...are you the reason I now have a double bias??? (Please don’t tell Jimin, it would crush him lol) 

“It was against his very nature not to speak up over some injustice he saw.” Why you gotta make him so damn perfect!?!?!

“Your nose has gone all scrunchy. You’re either hungry or you need a nap. Maybe both,” she giggled as she exited the booth and sat at his desk.”

AAAAHHH SHE ALREADY KNOWS HIM SO WELL. Gurl, throw that pile of garbage to the curb, you got a whole Yoongi pinning over you!

“I’ve never even been allowed to work before” This hit me hard! She has become completely dependent on that asshole husband, and he did that shit on purpose. Do you understand the implications of all of this ( I mean, I know you do, but do the readers realize it?!?). IF Yoongi makes his move and she reciprocates his feelings, she’s going to be apprehensive about becoming dependent on another man. Poor Yoongi, he’s already in deep and IF she leaves him, she’s going to need time to heal. But I hope she gets a taste of Yoongi dick before that happens. I’M JUST SAYING SHE DESERVES SOME GOOD LOVIN BEFORE TAKING TIME FOR HERSELF.

“You make me want so many things I shouldn’t, Yoongi.”

YES GURL, GET ITTTT!!!!

“Fuck, you have no idea how much I want you. I know I shouldn’t, and I try to fight it. I would treat you so well, baby. So gentle. Give you the whole world and the only marks would be from my lips.”

Yoongi….I’m right here. I am literally ready for the taking, come get your girl!

“The first time I make love to you, it’s going to be while we’re both sober and in my bed where I can take my time”

I literally cannot be more in love with this man. 

“I’ll be here if you want me to be”

Do y’all see what he’s doing?? He’s telling her that he’d be there for her, but it would be under her terms. He is giving her the power! He’s saying that he’ll back away if she wants him to. HE SAID FUCK YOUR TOXIC MASCULINITY. This is how you win a girl over!

Ok, I am emotionally exhausted, but I love it!!!

I don’t even know what to think about what’s to come for this fic because I feel it’s going to HURT! Can I ask for a happy ending please? They don’t have to end up together, but I need them to be happy in the end!

Until next time!

💜💜💜 Puppee Anon 

*Potato the pug is a real boy. My pug’s name is Potato, and yes, I usually call him Tae.

*I did write this before the Chainsmoker’s collab. This has happened a few times where I write about something and then something related happens with BTS and I’m starting to get concerned lmao. But I did fully enjoy how obvious it was that Yoongi didn’t like dealing with them at all.

*It IS going to have a happy ending. I think this story only has one full chapter left and an epilogue. I’ll get to it soon 😘

[jimlingss]

The President’s Son [18]

Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 - Chapter 19

➜ Words: 4k

➜ Genres: 100% Fluff, Slice of Life, Bodyguard!AU

➜ Summary: Kim Taehyung is the President’s son, mischievous and playful, and infamous for being a troublemaker. When everyone’s given up, they call for you to be his personal guard. There’s no other choice when your dad’s assigned you to it and surprisingly Taehyung doesn’t mind either. Maybe because you happened to grow up with that brat.

It’s still fresh in your memory.   You remember your feet cold against the floors, gripping your nightie in a tight fist, nudging the big door just enough to look through the crack. You had brushed your hair behind your ear, scared of being scolded for looking like such a mess. But before you could stumble back into the darkness, you had caught his eye and he turned his head.    “I thought I told you to go to bed.”   You grip the fabric in your hand tighter. “Is mommy home?”   Your father doesn’t answer you, merely glancing out the window for a moment before he sets the glass in his hand down onto his desk. He slumps onto the sofa that’s pushed against the wall and you take the invitation to come into his office.    He looks down at your legs. “What happened?”   You follow his line of sight to your bruised knees before hesitantly meeting his eyes again. “I fell.”   You didn’t — someone pushed you at kindergarten today. Maybe he knows about it. It’s not good to lie, but you don’t wanna tell the truth either. He would be happy though. You got up and didn’t cry at all.   Like you guessed, he asks point-blank, “Did someone do that?”   He’s smart. Your dad’s very smart. So, you wonder why mom would wanna go and not come back. It might be your fault, but you tried your hardest to be a good girl and you didn’t cause any trouble.   “No.”   Your dad scans you up and down, the same way he looks at you when you get to pick out your own clothes before school and come out all ready and dressed. But this time, he seems sad.    You don’t know why.   “Go to bed.” He finally turns away. “We’re going somewhere bright and early tomorrow.”   You know better than to ask questions, so you nod, slowly padding out of his office and making sure to close the door behind you. Your feet scatter against the tiles before racing up the stairs, scared that monsters in the dark will get you if you look around or stay for too long. The covers are pulled above your head once you make it and you fall asleep staring at the closet that might have skeletons.   In the morning and after some cereal for breakfast, dad takes you to the dojo — it’s like the gym at school, but with wooden floors and mats, and kids older than you practicing. They’re punching the air and kicking mats that others hold. You watch them before dad brings you away.   “What are we doing?”   “Seokjin, can you come here for a moment?” Dad calls out and an older kid comes running forward, bowing his head. He’s taller than you, bigger, bright eyes and dark hair. You don’t have a lot of time to look at him. “Shove her for me.”   “Sir!” His head spins around, eyes wide.   You don’t get it.   But dad looks stern and the student is forced to comply, doing his best to lightly shove your shoulder. “Harder.” The boy complies with the command and he pushes you, making you stumble back. Your dad hums a note and turns to look at you. “Bend your knees, root your feet to the ground.”    You try your best to follow his instructions and he nods to the boy again. You’re pushed again, but this time, you don’t stumble back or fall on your butt. “Good. Now turn your body a little. Like that. One leg in front of the other. Yes. Now when he pushes you again, twist away.”   Seokjin tries to shove you.   You deflect, but barely.   “Again. Put some muscle into it, Kim.”   The student frowns and he tries harder. He’s faster than you expect, stronger, and you’re staggering back, nearly shoved off the mats all together. But your dad has your hand on your back, keeping you upright.   “Again.”   Again and again until he’s happy. “Now open your palm. When he pushes you and you twist, you can throw your arm this way and hit him on the side of his head. Try to get him behind the ear.”   The teacher told you hitting wasn’t allowed — but you listen to your dad and do it the next time Seokjin tries to push you. It works, your arm coming out fast to jab where dad showed you. The boy winces and while you feel bad, it’s kind of fun…   “Do you understand?”   “Yeah!”   “Now next time, they won’t be able to push you anymore. If they do push you around, it’s because you let them.”   You nod and while it’s all weird, you’re glad dad taught you.   You don’t feel so scared anymore.

“Y/N!”   You’re literally shaken out of your daydream, startled and snapping back to attention with a couple of blinks. “Huh? What?”   “Wow. Unbelievable. I can’t believe you were ignoring me this entire time. How rude is that?! The audacity. Our relationship is already going downhill and we haven’t even gotten married yet. Aren’t we supposed to experience this after ten years of having a dead bedroom?” Taehyung’s not impressed whatsoever and he sighs deeply. “If you were listening, I was saying...that there are a lot of ways you can show your dad you care without blatantly saying anything to him. I know you’re not the type to go declare your love or anything, as much as I’d like that.”   “Thanks for the advice.”   “I’m serious though.” Taehyung shrugs, picking up his pace before matching his steps with yours. “Actions are stronger than words anyway. Words can be cheap.”   You pat him on the shoulder with a reserved smile, deciding his meddlesomeness was unwelcome and brushing it off. “You should do the same with your dad then.”   “Nah. I’m already close to that old man. Too close. He ruined my first crush by yelling it out when he was picking me up from school once. Should’ve never told him.” Taehyung smiles to himself, now fond of the memory filled with crippling embarrassment. “He’s just busy these days. Nothing he can do. When he’s done though, he promised to go fishing with me again. I don’t know if you remember, but we used to do that together. Too bad he can’t fish for shit. Keeps picking up seaweed and we end up with seaweed soup instead of grilled fish.”   The story is cute, but you wonder about something else. “What about your stepmother?”   “Nah. You can’t get close to everyone.”   “You haven’t even tried.”   “Don’t make this about me when we’re talking about you.”   “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” You smile before reaching over to hold his hand, squeezing securely. It does a good job of making him silent. “Thanks for the advice, Taehyung.”   //   It’s on your day off that you muster the courage to act, instead of just thinking. Maybe Taehyung’s words have really gotten to you because otherwise, you don’t think you’d be doing this.   You release a shaky exhale, crumpling the slip of paper that has the address in your hand before opening the gate. It’s a tiny house on the corner street, not far from the Blue House. It looks unkempt, like he doesn’t come here often; it’s understandable considering he lives and breathes work.   But before you knock on the door, you notice how the roof’s singles are falling, a few kicked in the corner of the patio. The gutter is also torn, hanging haphazardly in the air.   Your fist raps against the surface of the door and it opens. The man on the other side is old and weary, wrinkles lined all over his face and he looks at you with his eyes squinted, blinded by the morning sunlight. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”   “I...uh…” It’s terribly awkward as you shift your weight from one foot to the next, much like a forlorn child who’s been abandoned by their parent and is now showing up one day out of the blue. You shut your eyes to compose yourself. “I heard you were off-duty. I am too. I thought I’d visit..since I’ve...never...really…”   Your voice gets quieter against your will. But the hinges creak, door widening.    “It’s nice of you to come by. I don’t get many breaks often so…”   “Yeah, yeah, no, I get it. But breaks are good. You should, um, keep your health in good condition and breaks help with that.”   It’s a small home, one main room, a single bedroom and a bathroom. It’s meager, little furniture that’s dusty and brown. He’s not one for interior decorating, but you already knew that. Though what takes you by surprise is a picture of you in your graduating outfit on the shelf by the one-seated tiny dinner table.    “Would you like tea or coffee or water?”   “Sure. Any! I’m fine with any.”   When you’re no longer in a professional environment, you’re not sure how to address him or how to act. But while it’s still tense, you focus on taking off your coat, hanging it on the tiny rack, a painted one that you had sent him in grade eight after making it home ec class.    You step closer, the floorboards creaking. “I...didn’t know you moved.”   He stirs the cup of coffee he made with powder inside a packet and hot water. “I don’t need a whole house by myself. This place is enough and close to where I need to be. But it’s still there. The house. In case you need it one day.”   “Oh.” You take the cup he offers, mumbling a ‘thank you’. The conversation dies off, air becoming still, and your eyes stray. “The wall’s wet,” you comment, noticing how the stream of water captures the light.    “Right.” He follows your line of sight. “It’s the roof leaking. I keep telling myself it needs to get fixed, but I keep forgetting—”   “I can do it,” you offer and he turns as you give a small smile. “I can fix the roof….if you want.”   //   Taehyung was right. You’re not bold or courageous like he is. Declarations and confessions are out of the question. You can’t spill the words out of your throat or let them be written on paper if you wanted to. It’s better for you to act without saying. To do rather than to think or speak.   You realize this is the only way you know how.   “I’m sorry for calling you right after your shift.”   “It’s not a problem, chickpea. I’d come running for you no matter the circumstances.”   You’re giddy, giggling while your cheeks heat, face feeling too hot. But then suddenly—   “Y/N!” There’s an angry shout that has your eyes lifting to a man with square shoulders and his fists balled up, a witness to how you’ve become sheepish. “What the hell are you doing?”   “Taehyung? What are you doing here?”   Jimin leans over to be seen, popping out of nowhere, having been hidden by his friend’s larger body. He wears an apologetic smile. “We...we were at the Blue House...and h-heard you call Jin….s-sorry.”   “They joined me.” Seokjin grins. “The more the merrier, right?”   “I guess.”   “You wanted me to help you fix the roof….” Jin turns with his hands on his hips, staring upwards where the damage has been done. “Can’t say I’ve ever tried, but we’ll see what we can do.”   “Psh, you’ve never?” Taehyung scoffs and saunters forward in an arrogant manner, his face cocky.    You’re not impressed. “Have you?”   “Doesn’t matter,” he brushes off quickly. “But I can probably be of more help.”   “Absolutely not.” — “That’s not a good idea.” — “ No.”   All three of you speak over each other, Jimin in a panic, Jin with his mouth curled upwards, and you shaking your head. Taehyung’s jaw drops and you smile, trying to placate him. “You, out of everyone, can’t get hurt.”   “Who said I’ll get hurt?”   His whine is ignored as Jimin pipes up, “Actually, I worked at a roofing company for a year before coming here.”   “Really?” Seokjin smiles. “Then that’s great.”   “But who’s going to watch Tae?”   It goes silent.    “I can watch myself!” Taehyung protests in a voice increasingly becoming shriller. “I’m not a child!”   “Alright, alright.” You pat him on the shoulder. “Let’s get started.”   A short trip to the hardware store later, with Taehyung tagging along with you and bothering you the entire time while Jimin reads off a list he found on the internet and Seokjin goes to consult a worker, all the necessary supplies are gathered together.    Taehyung’s nervous when he watches the three of you climb the ladder. He stands at the bottom to catch you if you slip and also prepare for moving out of the way in case it’s the other two that come falling, especially Jin. Then again, if the older man were hospitalized, that would be a perfect opportunity for you to go running into his arms shamelessly without looking back.   Goddammit.   Before Taehyung could even reconsider what to do, everyone’s gotten up safely and without worry.   He tries to help in other ways, but there’s not much he can do. He stands back as things are thrown off the roof, bits and pieces being torn apart to be replaced. Taehyung watches in envy, wishing he knew how to do these things despite lacking the most knowledge and strength of everyone here….   But there are still things he can do.   “I made lemonade!”   “Thank god!” Jimin wipes his brow with his wrist. “ It’s so hot!”   “Not for you!” he shouts back.   “Oh.” In an instant, the bodyguard’s shoulders fall, dejected.   “Taehyung,” you scold him simply by calling his name. He gives you the glass after you climb down and peel off your gloves, and he begrudgingly pouts as he pours another glass from the large pitcher, listening to you and handing it to Jimin.   Park Jimin wheezes upon the first sip.   Jin observes and it’s enough for him to politely refuse.   But Taehyung doesn’t pay any mind — he only cares about your reaction.   And you drink.   Somehow the lemonade is salty. And you wonder what he could’ve possibly put in it when there’s only supposed to be sugar, lemon, and water. But upon realizing that your pre-boyfriend boyfriend is watching, you hold your breath and down it all.   “Good?”   Your mouth is dry, throat somehow more parched than it was before. “Very.”   “Here have another one then! You drank all of that in one go! You must be super thirsty.”   “Nope.” You give a tight-lipped smile. “I’m fine, Taehyung. Thank you.”   “Aw, you should have another one,” Seokjin playfully shouts behind you. Your expression is blank and you turn around to glare, making the older duck his head and Jimin giggles incessantly.    Work continues.   Taehyung turns to the man sitting beside him. “Want some, Mr. ____?”   “No.”   “Alright then.”   “Don’t worry, Chief. Should only take us two more hours!” Jimin yells down, throwing a thumbs up to show things are going well.   Yet, your father doesn’t speak a single word. Taehyung glances at him, taking in the awkward air and intimidating aura of the man. He shifts, swaying from side to side, fidgeting before he decides to put the pitcher back on the patio table. The table rocks, but luckily the old thing holds up the weight of the drink, and he breathes a sigh of relief.   Taehyung’s eyes stray up again, looking intently. He realizes you don’t look like your dad, but you certainly have his personality, or at least the intimidating aspect is similar…..   The man sighs through his nose. “Son, stop staring at me.”   “S-sorry.” Taehyung looks away.   It goes silent again, excruciating, until he breaks it. “This was your idea, wasn’t it?”   “Pardon?”   “For her to come here. And visit me. Just doesn’t seem like something she’d ever do.”   “This...was her decision.” Taehyung looks up at you working and without realizing himself, a proud smile sneaks up his lips. “She wanted to come here, believe it or not. I didn’t tell her anything.”   “I see.”   “She doesn’t hate you,” Taehyung says suddenly, twisting his body to look straight at the old man. Like you, it’s not so scary when he faces it head on. “In case you were thinking of that. She doesn’t. It might not be my place to tell you, but she came back because of you.”   “Because of me?” The old man lightly scoffs and turns to gaze at you. “She’s still stupidly soft, isn’t she? I thought after all that we went through, she would’ve hardened and not care about anything.”   “Is that such a bad thing?”   Your dad pours himself a glass with the pitcher. Taehyung’s about to help, but the other man’s stare keeps him from interfering. Once he gets himself his own drink, he sips on it. And he sets the glass down immediately.    “That’s absolutely disgusting.”   “Sorry.”   “You can’t even make lemonade?”   “I don’t cook.”   Your dad scoffs with a smile tugging at his face. He leans back in his patio chair. “I was surprised she even invited me to her graduation ceremonies. When she finished high school, when she finished the police academy…..I still have the pictures. They’re in my wallet.”   Taehyung doesn’t know why he’s telling him all this, but the old man continues anyway. After all, to him, Taehyung might as well be as stupid as a cactus and it’s easy to talk to plants. “I regret a lot of things. When you get to my age, it’s hard not to. But one of my biggest things I regret was how hard I was on her. I just wanted her to be the best...to be strong and tough….and I didn’t realize I was making things worse until it was too late.”   “Nothing’s too late.”   His comment is ignored. “You can tell her I’m proud of her.”   “Why don’t you tell her?”   “Hmmm, I don’t feel like it.”   A grin spreads into his cheeks and Taehyung stares at your dad. “You’re emotionally stunted too, huh, old man?”   “Excuse me?” His neck cranes, eyes dead.   “That was a joke, it was a joke, I’m sorry.” Taehyung has his hands out, trying to undo and retract his words while begging for mercy.    “I never liked you,” your dad says out of the blue and colour drains from Taehyung’s face.   “What?”   “I only tolerate you because you’re my closest friend’s son. But I always found you...stupid. You lack any form of self-discipline, you’re spoiled, you’re too carefree and idiotically optimistic about things.”   “That’s….harsh.”   “But you’re very kind and genuine. A brave boy, even if you’re dumb about it.” Your dad nods and hums to himself, a conversation he has on his lonesome. “I guess those are a few good traits about you I never realized. I apologize for misjudging you.”   “Uh….I...um….it’s okay.”   Taehyung didn’t even know he was hated so much by your dad.   “I know you two are together.”   If possible, Taehyung’s become even paler. He barely holds himself up from slipping out of the patio chair. His palms are clammy, lips dry, sweat rolling down his face and it’s not from the afternoon sun. “W-who? Me and Jimin? C-Course we’re not together!”   Your dad shifts around again. “Don’t play stupid with me, son. I hear about things all the time. I have eyes and ears everywhere. I know what’s going on between you and my daughter.”   “Oh.”   “To be frank, I don’t care. If she’s going to make idiotic decisions, then she’ll have to bear the responsibilities and consequences herself.” He blinks. “But if I find that any failure is your fault, I will not be happy. Do you understand me?”   “Y-yes. I promise to make your daughter happy, Mr. ____. I-I w-won’t disappoint you.”   The corner of his mouth curls into a ghost of a smile. But he turns away before Taehyung can get a good look. “You’re not asking for my daughter’s hand in marriage, son. I wouldn’t give it to you if you did anyway. But you don’t need to look so scared. I don’t have plans to kill you...any time soon.”   “Oh. Okay. T-Thanks.”   “Get rid of the lemonade before a bird drinks it and dies.”   “Yes, sir.”   While he scatters off, back inside the house, he catches your line of sight. You wonder what your dad and Taehyung were discussing, if it was possibly about you. But your thoughts are interrupted when Jimin asks for the pliers beside your left foot.    Whatever the case may be, you’re glad they’re getting along with one another.   //   You take your coat off the rack, clearing your throat. “The...roof’s done. At least for now. Call me if there’s any leakage or issues with it.”   “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He lingers by the doorway, back hunched from decades of hard work. “There’s no need to worry.”   “Alright. Then, I should get going then.” Your hands stuff themselves in your pockets. “They’re waiting for me outside, so…”   “Go ahead.”   You turn around, facing the surface of the door. But before you open it, you swivel on your feet, question on the tip of your tongue. “Have you been eating well?”   “I have.” Your dad nods. “You don’t need to be concerned for me. I know how to take care of myself.”   “Right. It- uh, seems kind of cold in here, so if you need me to mess with the thermostat or fix any heating issue, you can call me.”   “I’ll make a note of that.”   You hesitate. For some reason, there’s something stopping you from walking straight out the door like you should, something on the tip of the tongue that you want to spill out. You’re held back and you look at your father once more, mustering the courage you don’t have. “Let me come again. I’d….like to visit again, if that’s okay with you.”   “You can do whatever you want,” he deadpans, but then his voice warms, even just by a little. “I’ll always welcome you.”   You’re not used to physical affection — it’s still difficult to get used to how Taehyung throws his arm around your shoulder, how he holds your hand or cuddles when you’re trying to watch TV. You hate being emotionally vulnerable — it feels like a weakness even though it isn’t. And most of all, you struggle to show your dad that you care.   But you hope he can feel it, even if you don’t say it out loud.    “Are we going to go eat anywhere?” Jimin strolls down the neighborhood, forgetting about his duty of guarding and protecting the person beside you. “I’m starving.”   “I know a good sushi place a block away,” Seokjin notes to the other man’s glee.   “Hey.” Taehyung nudges you, speaking in a murmur to keep the conversation private. “Is everything alright?”   “Y-yeah.” You take a sigh of relief, shoulder losing their tension. You meet his eyes. “Everything’s great.”   He smiles softly. “I’m glad.”   You did it. It hits you now as you walk away. You did it without anyone’s help, and it wasn’t bad. It wasn’t scary or frightening or terrible. He never slammed the door in your face or looked at you in disdain and disappointment. It was normal. Your dad was welcoming.   The next time you visit is a week later. And strangely enough, the fridge isn’t empty upon your arrival. Rather, there’s fresh ingredients on shelves and plastic bags. He insists on cooking dinner as a way to thank you for fixing the roof or as he says ‘returning the favour’. But you wonder how long it took him to think of this, to learn and memorize a recipe and act nonchalantly like it came from the top of his head. You wonder how long he’s been waiting for you to come back, what he would’ve done if the ingredients had gone stale.   He’s never cooked before and you watch him mumble to himself helplessly until you help chop the carrots. For the first time there’s a tight feeling in your chest….an emotion you’re not quite sure of but that you’ve felt before—   Family. It comes to you as you take in the cozy atmosphere. For the first time, being with your dad feels like you two are part of a family, and not distant relatives with professional obligations.   Your dad tries and that’s all that matters.   You just have to thank Taehyung for giving you the push forward.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #taehyung fluff #taehyung scenario #taehyung fanfic #WE'RE SO CLOSE TO THE END I CAN TASTE IT #FINALLY

[paintedrecs]

@mad-madam-m​ tagged me in the “list 5 OTPs from 5 fandoms” meme a couple days ago, which I laughed at her for because (a) she knows my otps FULL WELL (b) our lists are very nearly an exact match (which i am by the way delighted about because half my list right now is full of rare pairs, and I have never before known the hell of treading that landscape alone)

but!

I’m gonna do the meme and double it up as an announcement of what I am currently into and what you’re likely to see on this blog if I start picking up my activity levels a little.

I honestly have no idea how active tumblr is at this point - how many of you are still around, and how many of you I might lose if I start reblogging my other fandoms in addition to Sterek - but after doing a Pillowfort experiment for a while, I think I’ve finally figured out how to use social media again in a way that works better for me.

My old method, before tumblr kinda imploded and fandom got weird (filled with antis and ship hate and constant infighting, ugh why), was to create a separate blog for everything I was into, which is why I have appreciatederek, appreciateshiro, appreciatejack, and...is that it? See, this is why I need to stop scattering myself into a zillion different pieces.

So I’m going to consolidate more (like I do on twitter and now Pillowfort), and also hopefully get back to my fandom roots: digging into more meta, like I did 8 years ago when I first fell in love with Sterek, and posting fic recs, like I also did thanks to Sterek. (And sharing my own fics as I write them. Guess which fandom pushed me down that path, too.)

So it’s fitting that the first ship on this list is...well, an obvious one.

1. STEREK (Teen Wolf)

Y’all know this one. Sterek will always, always be the OTP of my heart. I love their dynamic. I love the creativity and passion of the fandom. I love that they brought my writing back to me and introduced me to so many of you.

I still have dozens of Sterek fic ideas; quite a few of them are partially written or have significant outlines, so at some point I will still be writing them. Life is just, as you know, very busy and very tiring and it’s so hard to fit everything into my days. I’m working on it, I promise. 

I’d like to start doing more updates with snippets of my upcoming fics, maybe a lil Q&A if anyone wants to chat about what I’m working on/my thought process behind what I’ve already written/what you’d like to see from me, etc. Interactive fun stuff! Sterek fandom is still the best and most supportive fandom I’ve ever been a part of, and it makes me happy every time I’m reminded we’re all still around and thriving.

And here’s some of the other stuff I’m into right now...

2. XANATOWEN (Gargoyles)

I have been sailing this ship entirely by myself since January, recently joined by the aforementioned M, who also created this gif for me while she was still in the patient “I’m your friend, I will listen to you yelling about this show” stage. (ha ha ha look at her now, that’s what you get)

I’ve been genuinely holding myself back from spamming tumblr with my thoughts about this show and this ship, which I’m beginning to realize is...maybe silly. I’ll still try to keep it a little bit balanced, but you can definitely look forward to more Gargoyles on the horizon, including:

Fics - 30k so far, with another 4.6k that I’m hoping to post this afternoon, after I look over it and decide if I still like it (ha ha fic writing amirite). I also have a fairy tale AU that I’ve done a substantial outline for, so I’d really like to get that underway.

Episode recaps/meta posts - these are currently being posted over on Pillowfort. The goal is to get the last two episodes of Season 1 up there, then to start crossposting them here.

As long as it’s not a gigantic hassle to paste over all the screencaps, because I uh. I have a lot of them. And a lot of thoughts about the show as a whole, but particularly about the relationship between David Xanatos and Owen Burnett: the meta’s currently averaging from about 1.5k to 2.5k per episode, whoooops.

I love them. I love them a LOT. See my meta posts for very detailed explanations as to why.

3. TREVORCARD (Castlevania)

I honestly did not expect to get this deeply invested in this ship. I watched and liked the first two seasons of Castlevania and really enjoyed the dynamic between Trevor and Alucard, but it wasn’t until the lead-up to Season 3 (and then the devastation of how absolutely terrible that season was) that I realized how much I loved these two together.

So now I’m having a very Sterek Fandom moment of “eff you canon, they’re ours now” in regards to Trevorcard. 

I’ve written one fic for them - it’s a 20k coffee shop/modern/college/artist/musician AU because they deserve all the fandom tropes and so much happiness together..

I don’t currently have plans to write any more, although if I do, it’ll likely be some sort of neighbors AU with wolf!Alucard, since my vast experience with Sterek fandom has taught me the absolute joys of exploring characters who can canonically turn into a beautiful giant effing wolf. 

I’ve also been steadily reading my way through every single Trevorcard fic in the AO3 tag, which unfortunately is only ~200. (HOW is this a rare pair. I will never ever understand it, they’re perfect together, and the animators literally said they intentionally storyboarded moments like the one above with the knowledge that people would start shipping them.)

Once I’ve finished up my AO3 tour, I’m going to compile the ones I enjoyed into rec lists. There are some really wonderful fics in there, and I’m excited to see what the rest are like.

4. TAIBANI (Tiger & Bunny)

I really don’t talk about this ship much, but it’s so immensely close to my heart. I have...so much...official merch of Kotetsu and Barnaby; it makes me happy every single time I see it. If I used my Tiger & Bunny stuff as the standard for what sparks joy during a konmari, the rest of my apartment would probably wind up empty.

The show (which is finally getting a second season in 2022 - Kotetsu & Barnaby had better be getting married) is wonderful. I genuinely can’t recommend it enough. Great writing, wonderful character development, beautiful animation, and Kotetsu and Barnaby are absolutely perfect together. Here’s an old post where I talk about that a little bit.

I’ve only written one fic so far: a canon compliant established relationship future fic that focuses more on their family dynamic as Kotetsu’s daughter adapts to turning 18, becoming a hero, and living with her frustratingly affectionate dad & his new husband.

I have ideas for two AUs: a single dad mature student/young professor one and a sorta weird circus/steve irwin-inspired one. We’ll...we’ll see if I ever get around to either. What I end up writing always surprises me, so I sorta give up on planning what words will come out.

And oh wait! I totally forgot about the third idea, which will be roughly canon compliant, with “Kotetsu sets Barnaby up on a series of blind dates that Barnaby initially thinks will be with HIM” angsty/funny fic. Hrm. I should get back to that one, I’ve outlined part of it.

I haven’t actually read a ton of fic for this pairing, because the more I like canon material, the less I seek out fandom content to “fix” it, but I would like to start going through the AO3 tag after I finish my Trevorcard project. I did an initial rec list ages ago and would like to follow up with another.

5. SHEITH (Voltron: Legendary Defender)

Here’s the last pairing I write fics for. I have several more in progress that I’d really like to finish - including a dragon AU that I wish someone else would just finish for me so I can read it, hahhhhhhh sigh. I wrote 15k, did a ton of research, and basically intimidated myself out of continuing, because it’s one of my Big Projects. Not gonna be like, PDIW length or anything, but it should be a pretty hefty fic once it’s done.

Then there’s the roommates AU, the burrito shop AU, the....wow. I really need to get back to these, don’t I. A couple of them are super close to being finished, too.

I’ve also compiled a few fic rec lists, although I haven’t updated those (or my Sheith blog) in a while.

This fandom has been...interesting. Rough sometimes. Sliding into some of the other pairings on this list has provided a good break for me, particularly since they’re all such small fandoms that they’re relatively free from drama and hate. Once I’m fully refreshed and re-inspired, I’d love to get back into writing Sheith. They’re such a perfect, feel-good, extraordinarily balanced and supportive ship, and I am disappointed every single day I remember that Voltron didn’t stick the landing with making them canon.

Look at that almost-kiss. Just...look at it. And tell me they aren’t in love.

#gargoyles #sterek #trevorcard #taibani #tiger and bunny #xanatowen #sheith #meme #about me #about my fics

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #281

“is there a method to your madness, is it all about pride? ‘cuz everyone i know, they’ve got a demon inside.”

Has anyone ever told you that you looked like a celebrity? No, just a video game character and an animated movie girl when I had black hair. What color is the pillowcase(s) on your bed? Brown. Do you have a favorite day of the week? Tuesday because it’s reset day in WoW and as a mount farmer, that means I get to try my raids for the week again to continue to be denied. :’) Have you ever been in an art show? An art show, I don’t think so. I’ve had two or three things in an art museum, though. Would you consider yourself to be well-exposed to life or sheltered? I’m pretty split down the middle, I’d say. I’ve seen far more emotional pain than I think most young adults have, but at the same time, I’ve very under-exposed to adult experiences. How high is your pain tolerance? It depends on the type of pain. I can particularly say I do NOT handle stomach pains well, though. Have you ever played the game Halo? Nah, those weren’t my type. Have you ever had to learn lines for a play/skit/movie? Only songs sung together for plays in elementary school. Never solo. Do you like your nose? … Sure? Kissing someone with facial hair, do you mind? I don’t care. Would you ever like to be a stunt person? I’m fucking dumb, I read this and thought “you mean little people?” until I read the last person’s answer lmaooo. Anyway, no. I’m not ballsy enough for that shit. Are you a pyromaniac? I find fire pretty, but it still can scare me if I’m too close to it. Are you one of those people who listen to songs on repeat? 110%, it’s literally what I’m doing now lmao. Can any of your friends sing very well? SARA. Would you ever enter any kind of pageant? No, no, no, no. I really don’t support pageants of any type I can think of, beauty in particular. What a way to scream “HEY THEY’RE BETTER THAN YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!”, again, especially in beauty pageants. That fucks people up. What a way to start things like self-loathing, eating disorders, body dysphoria, etc. Do you have piano fingers? Mom has always told me that, “like Grammy.” Have you ever slept on a beach? YIKES, no. I ain’t fuckin’ with the tides going in and out or just a massive wave. I’d also feel WAY too vulnerable. Would you like to be taller? I’m cool with my current height. Are you a fan of piercings on the opposite sex? I just like piercings in general. Have you ever been attacked by an animal? No, besides play getting too rough. Is there a movie that makes you cry every single time you watch it? It’s easy to do that lol. The Notebook in particular will 100% make me tear up. What's your opinion on Johnny Depp? He’s an incredibly talented actor that I find very attractive, but I don’t know him as a person. Can you speak in different accents? Just British and southern. Who was the last person you mocked/mimicked? My nephew, playfully of course. If you write, isn't writer's block the most horrible thing? THE ABSOLUTE WORST. What size shirt do you normally wear? Ugggghhh generally 2XL, I think. It can be one size smaller or one size larger depending on the shirt. Has anyone ever aimed a gun at you? Yikes, no. Have you ever written a song? Just poems. Do you believe there is life on other planets? It’s possible, but I don’t particularly lean a certain way, I think. The universe is just… infinite, you know? But also the circumstances that life rose within Earth were so remarkably perfect to support it that I don’t entirely know if it’s been duplicated elsewhere. When was the last time you fell? Around two weeks ago? I have extremely low blood pressure naturally but also amplified by medications’ side effects, and I got out of bed too fast when I woke up. Hurt my knees pretty bad and barely missed my head hitting the couch. Do you have any sort of debt? I do NOT want to think about this. Is there a specific time period that interests you? The era of dinosaurs of course, as well as the Renaissance, just to name a couple. Do any of your friends own an expensive car? *shrugs* Have you ever been on a train? No. Have you ever been in a parade? No. Are you, or anyone you know, an atheist? I know plenty. Have you ever sent a celebrity fan mail? No. Have you ever been in a musical? No. Is there a friend's family that makes you feel like you're family too? Yeah, Sara’s. Even though I’ve only been with them not that long of a time, they’re wonderful and made me feel so welcome. Do you ever have a fear of getting close to new people? Boy, do I!!!!! It’s funny though, because at the same time, I want to be close with people; I want to rush to the point I have a close friend. It’s weird. What is the worst things about work? N/A And the best? N/A Do you like to sleep in? Not really, honestly. I feel groggy and lazier than I naturally am lmao. Do you like to be an early bird? Well I’m in my best mood in the morning, but I don’t like waking up early. However, I’ve been planning a morning routine to adopt once we move that involves waking up at like 7 or so, so we’ll see how much I enjoy mornings then. But oh boy do I have a habit of saying I’ll do something and then not doing it, so… What is something you notice you just don't watch? History stuff and usually action. Last thing that bothered you even if just a little bit? Something Miss Tobey said to me a few days ago. Last thing that seemed a blessing from above? I don’t believe in supernatural “blessings,” but I’ll bite. The thing that made me happiest recently was uhhhh… I actually don’t know. Nothing that REALLY felt “blessing-ish.” Do you usually drink diet or regular soda? Regular; I can’t do diet. It tends to taste horrible but more importantly the artificial sweetener gives me a wicked headache. Are you on a diet? Not a diet, no. I’m more so just trying to make it a habit to simply eat better and not snack. Someone you highly respect who is not in your family? Sara’s dad. Did you say 'goodnight' to anyone last night? I don’t think I did. Does anyone ever comment on the appearance of your handwriting? People tend to point out it’s really nice. Have you looked at anyone's Facebook profile lately? Whose? Nah. Did you have a cake for your last birthday? What kind? Yeah, red velvet. Can you recall the first horror film you ever watched? How old were you? I actually don’t think I can. Maybe Paranormal Activity? Or The Blair Witch Project? When’s the last time that you mailed a letter or a package to someone, and who was it to? Sara’s bday gift I think. The last book that you checked out from the library? I haven’t done that in years. What was your pet’s last vet visit concerning? Roman got neutered, and the only time I took Venus to the vet was when I first got her and she refused food for almost a year. Changed the tactic of warming the mouse up and she was more than happy to snag it. Which animals do you tend to go check out first at the pet store? The reptiles, because they’re closest and also my favorite section. Last medication or item that you picked out from the drugstore? Nicole picked up a bunch of my prescriptions that needed refilling. Do you usually have a big list or a small list when you go to the grocery store? I don’t do the shopping here, so it’s not my choice. How much was the last check you deposited? How about the last amount that you took out? I have no clue. Have you ever been admitted into the emergency room? For what? Being suicidal and then a suicide attempt. Have you ever been arrested before? Ridden in the back of a police car? No to the first, but yes to the second because that’s just how you’re transported from the ER to the psych hospital here. Have you ever been a victim of a house fire? Thank God no. When did you graduate high school? 2014. How much gas can fit in your gas tank? N/A Does your vehicle break down a lot? N/A What’s the longest you’ve ever had to wait before being seated at a sit-down restaurant? I want to say at LEAST 45 minutes once. Can’t remember why it was so busy, though. Have you ever had a cavity before? How about a root canal? A tooth pulled? Braces? I’ve had cavities and braces, but thank Christ no root canals, and I’ve never had to have a tooth pulled by the dentist, either. Which art forms do you appreciate the most? Man, you can’t ask this to someone who enjoys art so deeply. Like I really don’t know what I enjoy *most*. Music can give me chills, poetry can be so rich and, well, poetic, and traditional artwork strikes awe and makes you wonder how they do it. I just adore art. What is your favorite zoo animal that you would like to set free? To start, I have very mixed feelings about zoos, but I guess I am *mostly* in favor of humane, adequately providing captivity to a certain degree as this allows for conservation of especially endangered species, and zoos also make it easier to study and understand the silent voices of those we share the earth with. As well, they offer a safe environment to expose the fearful to all sorts of animals, and I feel it is very, very important for humans as the alpha species to care for and understand (as best our language barriers allow) our wonderful neighbors. That being said, I definitely believe that a lot of zoos under-provide for their animals, and this is horribly heartbreaking so that I absolutely disagree with their “right” to own and display animals, but for this specific question, I am going to use my state’s zoo as the standard here. Ashboro, imo is pretty damn great and generous to their animals (you should see the miles of land the elephants, bison, antelope, and rhinos have!), but the exhibit that comes to mind first when mentioning animals I’d like to set free iiiis… you know, I don’t know. I was going to say the polar bears since it can get STUPID hot here in the summer and their abode doesn’t have a great amount of ice that survives the sun, but at the same time I’d be very wary about returning a polar bear home for… obvious reasons. I say “I don’t know” because I’m not gonna pretend to know what ample space is for so many different kinds of animals. Damn, now I really wanna go there. Wow this was a long answer to a p simple question lmao. Favorite kind of fish? I don’t have a distinctly “favorite” fish, really. I don’t know enough of ‘em, but I can say I really like clownfish and angelfish. What kinds of museum artifacts fascinate you? Whew, as someone who took Art History just last year in school, ancient art pieces of all sorts! It is so, so fascinating, watching the evolution of art and to see how the urge to just create extends so, so far back into history. Have you ever gone to court before? For a disability case, yes. Also to convince a judge that I didn’t need to stay in a mental hospital for I think the original plan was around six months. What is the last song that you danced to? Ha ha I watching Hotel Transylvania with my niece and nephew and did the macarena with ‘em. What’s your favorite alcoholic drink? Margaritas or sangrias. Is there anyone that you’ve visited in jail? No. Are you more likely to fly in an airplane, or pick people up/drop them off at the airport? Historically, pick people up. Which sporting event would you be most likely to sit through? Dance competitions. Favorite flavor of ice cream? Cone or dish? Any sprinkles? My favorite Basic Bitch flavor is vanilla, just with chocolate syrup. Cone or dish just depends on what I’m feelin’, really. I hate sprinkles on anything; the texture throws me off. Have you ever cut your own hair? No. What do you eat most frequently? Uggghhhh some form of bread, probably. Are you a fan of video games? Yeah, but not as much as I used to be. What's your favorite color combination? Idk really, I like a lot. I will say though that orange and black excites me bc Halloween Vibes. Did you share a locker at school? No. What's one sport you could never play? Wrestling, ew. Have you ever sung karaoke? Oh god no. What is the oldest age you think should wear makeup? lmao BRO tell me this a joke How old were you when you went on your first date? Idr, sometime in the 7th grade, if group dates in middle school even count? lol Has anyone besides your family seen you naked? Yeah. If so, who? An ex and probably doctors at some point? Did your parents sign you up for anything you hated as a child? Sunday school, really. Have you purchased any cool objects from a foreign country? Considering I’ve never left the country, no. Are you on a laptop or a desktop computer right now? I only have a laptop. Do you remember anyone's number by heart? No, but I seriously need to memorize my mom’s. Do you live above, below, or on the Equator? Above. Do you know how to use Photoshop? I know how to do a decent number of things, but I’m definitely no expert. Where was your first job? I was a sales associate at GameStop. What's the best place you have ever eaten? Olive Garden is fucking fantastic, fite me about it. Do you own a hair straightener? No, I don’t need one. Are you barefoot right now? I always am at home unless it’s cold enough to need slippers. Are you subscribed to any magazine? Nah. Do you need AC right now? No; it’s actually pretty cold inside rn. Do more people call you by a nickname or your first name? It’s just a derivative of my first name; “Britt.” But I guess that classifies as a nickname. Name something you're proud of. Deciding to actually *try* to move on and making massive progress through it with That Person. Lately I’ve wondered if I truly have, though. My PTSD has been really bad of the late. Does any accent annoy you? I can’t say it “annoys” me, given you can’t really control your accent, but I do find it difficult to understand extremely southern accents, even as a local. Do you take vitamins? This just reminded me I’ve been out of my Vitamin D prescription for a while… oops. I’m supposed to take it for my legs. When was the last time you took aspirin or some other pain reliever? Yesterday, actually. I had a pretty bad headache. When was the last time you deeply regretted something? God, last night, I was remembering and accepting some things. Lemme just say I regret the everloving fuck out of the subject. What is something that you regularly wear that makes you stand out? Besides my lip ring, nothing in particular. Do you prefer small birthday parties or big ones? Small. I just don’t like big gatherings in general. What song are you listening to now? “Creatures X: To The Grave” by Motionless In White. What was the most traumatic experience of your life? The breakup w/ Jason. I’ve told the story enough in surveys and I don’t wanna recite it again. Who was your childhood best friend? Brianna. Are you still friends now? On Facebook, anyway, but we don’t talk. If not, why? We just drifted apart. What is one career you don't think you could do no matter how much it paid? Butcher. No fucking way. Have you ever edited Wikipedia? No. Have you ever edited any other wiki? Oh yeah; I’m an admin at the Silent Hill wiki and have invested hours upon hours upon hours helping out there for years. I’m also a content moderator at the Team Ico wiki, and I’ve also assisted a lot at the meerkats wiki because it is a fucking grammatical and formatting catastrophe. I think that’s it? Wait no, I did a few fixes on the Dragons of Atlantis wiki when it was still at the Kabam website, too. Is there a website [besides social networking] that you check almost daily? Yeah, a few. Do you get scared when you know some virus or sickness is being passed? I wouldn’t say I get scared, no. Just more aware and cautious. What’s the worst illness you’ve had? I’ve had a fucking wicked stomach virus before. (TMI alert?) I would not stop puking to the point it was agonizing to the point of tears because my muscles were so exhausted. Which do you prefer: M&M's, Skittles, or Reese's Pieces? BITCH can I choose all???? But in almost any chocolate-related case, I will choose a Reese’s product. Where on your body would you never get a tattoo? I don’t plan on getting a face tattoo, or at least a big one. Maybe something small and cute. OH YEAH EW absolutely never getting my sclera tattooed. That looks painful as a motherfucker. Honestly, have you ever stuck gum under a table or desk? No, that shit is disgusting. If your parents could read your thoughts, would you be in trouble? Not usually. Mom might be mad sometimes when I’m angry at her. Have you ever egged somebody's house or car? No, that’s childish as shit. My childhood house was egged once, so it pisses me off especially. Do you like licorice? UGH no, that shit is disgusting. Did anybody ever read bedtime stories to you when you were younger? My mom did. Which natural disaster do you find the most terrifying? Tornadoes or earthquakes. Do you have a favorite Johnny Depp movie? What is it? Alice in Wonderland. If I gave you a Yo-Yo right now, could you do any tricks? Nope.

#survey #quiz #questions #questionnaire

[fortunatelyhauntedblackcherry]

Moonshine - A Beetlejuice Fanfiction 12

Warning: swearing, several mentions of murder, scaring people out of their pants, Beej being a creep, shotgun use, abusive ex.

The ground was shaking, the house was somehow glitching and green smoke filled the living room. The girls heard a loud, croaky, devilish laugh right before the room turned completely dark. Even the lightning stopped. Sofía held Rei close in fear, while Ari was looking around with lustruous eyes. All of a sudden, a gravelly voice filled the air.

- Welcome, welcome, welcome, lovely ladies! - a weirdly handsome, husky man with fluffy hair, which went from black roots to glowing, bright green tops and stubble colored the same way stood on the dining table. He wore a dirty striped suit with a stripey shirt; a green tie, which had several spots of moss on it; black suspenders; and dirty black leather shoes with stacked heels. He was grinning, showing his sharp double canines; his golden, kind of catlike eyes were shining in excitement. Some random spots of dirt and maybe rotting patterned his face. He put a spotlight on himself, and as he threw his hands above his head, a couple of red neon lights lighted up around him. Some of them were arrows, pointing at him, some of them were captions saying "Beetlejuice Beetlejuice Beetlejuice". - Can all of you see me now?

- SHIT HE'S REAL. - screamed Rei.

- Wow. - gasped Ari right before the man jumped down from the table. He landed right in front of her. He locked his gaze in hers and offered her a hand. - You look WAY better than I imagined, based on the voice. - she put her palm in his. - Not so dead... - Beetlejuice lifted Ari up from the ground and as he did, he locked her in his arms, swooped her off her feet and planted a kiss on her lips. Which was followed by a bitchslap from the wide-eyed breather girl. Beetlejuice let Ari go, still smiling like an idiot.

- Sorry, sorry, I got overjoyed, I just had to, I couldn't help myself. Am I overstepping my bounds? - Ari nodded and smiled while she wiped her lips. This man can't be real. Crazy motherfucker is worse than I imagined. - It's just that this whole thing is so beautiful! - his voice got emotional and he put his hands on his chest, where Ari imagined his heart would've been. - You called me! You didn't have to, but you called me!

- The fuck you mean she didn't had to? - asked Rei who let go of Sofía to inspect the demon more closely. Beetlejuice raised an eyebrow, pulled a grimace, snapped his fingers and a couple pieces of furniture appeared before the winter garden's door, making a barricade.

- Solves all ya problems. - he turned back to Ari. - NOW! I'm gonna go, kill those suckers, have some fun, earn some screams, and leave chaos in my wake!

- Yes, good, get on it! - stated Ari, held Beetlejuice's wide shoulders, and turned him around to face the backdoor. - Get'em, tiger. - Sofía jumped in front of them, making Beetlejuice almost fall over.

- Wait, you really want him to do that?!? - Ari gestured with her hand and raised her eyebrows.

- Duuuh, I didn't summon him to play fucking yahtzee! - BJ chuckled and put his elbow on Ari's shoulder.

- I like your jokes but I like hu-mor. - he cooed with a tilted head and a cheesy smile. Ari flashed a kind of annoyed look at him and blinked fast.

- Later, Beetlejuice, later, please, we have so much shit to do and haunt and kill now.

- You can't do that! - said Sofía, still standing before Ari and BJ. - It's not just morally wrong, but don't ya think, Ariadné dearest, that if a bunch of guys get brutally murdered here, we'll have to bury them and having a shitton of mounds in our backyard would raise suspicion? AND since we have such a bad luck, I'm pretty sure the police would find the bodies somehow. - Beetlejuice layed back to the wall, inspecting his dirty black nails, sighing. There's so much trouble with living folks, they always find somethin' to ruin the fun. It's easier with dead guys, you have some problems with them, you just throw 'em to a sandworm and your problems are solved! WAIT...

- Hey, guys, sorry to barge in, but I just wanna state that if you push someone, that’s bullying, if you kill someone, that’s murder, sure, but if there is no evidence and nobody sees it... - he shrugged. - ...it’s a simple accident. - he showed a toothy grin, lightning flashing on his sharp double canines. - And those goddamn sandworms could swallow anyone alive.

- What's a sandworm? - asked Ari excitedly. BJ shrugged.

- Oh ya know, nothing much, just 10-meters-tall two-headed snakes with a killer appetite. If they eat someone, they automatically get deported to the Netherworld, or I dunno how ya folks call it, Purgatory. No problem with the body, or the ghost. - Ari smiled widely and launched herself at Beetlejuice. She hugged his neck tightly.

- YOU ARE A GENIUS! - Beetlejuice just stood still, not knowing what to do with the sudden hug.

- Well, being dead has its perks. - he said with a small, weird laugh. Ari made a disgusted face and quickly let go.

- Ew, you smell like rotten meat. Gross.

- Aww thanks babe! - ha cooed and put his weight from one leg to another like a little kid.

Rei cleared her throat.

- Isn't that swallowing thing still murder though? - Beetlejuice appeared right behind her out of thin air.

- Jesus Christ, Rei, you sexy son of a bitch, grow up! - he said and pinched her booty, then quickly reappeared on the dining table. - Please, sweethearts, shut up already! - he said in a nagging manner. - I'm ready for some people to die! Let me have my fun, you guys are like a snorefest! - the knocking started again, since the bad guys on the other side of the door realized they can't break it.

- Who's there with ya honey? - asked Matt, after hearing BJ talk. - Did... DID YOU HOOK UP WITH SOMEONE?! I AM ALL THAT YOU NEED! ARIADNÉ, DON'T MAKE ME COME IN THERE!!! - BJ pointed at the door.

- See, the stupid motherfucker's even asking for it!

The girls looked at each other. Rei was the first to talk.

- Well, I have a very little patience for stupidity. I say let's get rid of these jerks. - Sofía rolled her eyes and tried to say something but Beetlejuice quickly pointed at her and a metal plate appeared on her lips, making her unable to talk. She flashed an angry look at the demon. But he just shrugged with a wicked smile.

- Silence gives consent.

- There's only one more thing! - stated Rei, which made Beetlejuice do a huge eyeroll.

- WHATTTT.

- Kill only Matt. His henchmen don't deserve death, I mean at least I think so. - she said while looking at Ari. She nodded with pouted lips. - Only scare them. If you can do that. - Beetlejuice held his chest and dramatically made the expression of fainting.

- If I can do that?! What do ya think, what am I, a newbie? - he jumped off the table, booping Rei's nose. - Babes, I've been scaring for like a millennia. I'm the bio-exorcist of the Netherworld, giving houses enemas and shit. - he turned away. - Don't underestimate my power cause I'll be offended! - Ari laughed, jumped next to Beetlejuice who hold his arm out, so she locked arms with him. He stared deeply into her widely opened, emerald green eyes. - So tell me, little wolf, do you want to punish those who have wronged you? - he said in an arousing tone. His gravelly voice made Ari slightly shiver and gulp.

- Y-yes...

- Alright ladies, then let's turn up the juice and see what shakes loose!

With a snap of the fingers, all 4 of them teleported to the kitchen. The metal plate from Sofía's mouth disappeared, which made her kind of relieved, but still left her grouching.

- You snake-ass bitches don't respect the Sister Code... - she grumbled.

- Hey, d'ya want me to put the plate back on your slutty mouth, woman?! - asked Beetlejuice in a sharp tone. Sofía crossed her arms before her chest.

- ...I hate you. - Beetlejuice nodded then turned back to Ari with a devilish smile. His eyes were literally glowing at this point, and maybe he had sharper and a bit more teeth than an average human would have.

- Okay, so first thing first, I'm invoking the "No Judgement” clause of our friendship.

- What? Why? - asked Ari. Beetlejuice layed back to the middle kitchen counter and fixed his jacket. He flashed his glowing, hungry eyes at Ari and winked.

- Cause Imma get a little nasty... - Beetlejuice was interrupted by an angry scream. Matthias was banging on the door so loud at this point that Rei was sure he already broke some of his fingers.

- OPEN UP OR I'LL SHOOT THIS FUCKIN DOOR OPEN! - Ari's lower lip juddered at the sudden shouting. She cupped Beetlejuice's chubby face in her palms, took a deep breath and with heated determination in her eyes she said:

- Make him piss his pants.

- Your wish is my command, babes.

- I'M GONNA COUNT TO THREE! - Beetlejuice looked at the door and snapped his fingers. - ONE! - the furniture floated back to their original places. - TWO! - BJ let out a voiceless laugh as he wiggled his fingers and made the whole house pitch black. - FUCK IT! - and with that, right after the sound of barrel-loading a shotgun, the door of the winter garden opened with a creek.

One of the most sobering things in the world must be to experience a classical horror cliché in a house that is rumored to be haunted. There were 5 men standing behind Matt; he met them all earlier that night at a shitty pub, and they were all horny and drunk enough for Matthias to convince them easily to follow him and break into the house of his ex-girlfriend. Stupid boys thought that they'll get some easy pussy that night. Then they saw the house and all of them started to get second thoughts... But they quickly brushed them off, those rumors were just to scare the little townsfolk.

As soon as the door opened, Matt's henchmen looked at each other. Matthias hastily stepped into the house and looked back at the guys. They were stalling and shared concerned looks. Beetlejuice snapped his fingers and appeared with the girls hidden behind one of the huge cupboards of the winter garden. He leaned closer to Ari and whispered:

- Watch. This. - he pointed at one of Ari's big oleanders and started to wiggle his fingers. The plant started to grow, and as it got bigger and bigger, it became an anthropomorphic cross between a Venus flytrap and an avocado. It had a huge, nasty-looking pod which had shark-like teeth. Ari gasped and smiled widely. She always wanted to see this plant in real life. The men didn't notice the plant first, but then one of them started to sniff the air, which was filled with the smell of blood now, and turned around. As soon as he spotted the plant, he screamed like a girl. Beetlejuice opened his mouth in awe and circled his nipples.

- Oh how I missed that sound... - he purred. Ari laughed.

- Do the Voice, do the Voice, do the Voice! - she said excitedly and jokingly smacked BJ's upper arm a couple times. The demon showed his teeth, held out his hand like a sock puppet and immitated talking with it. As he did, the plant started to talk.

- FEED ME SEYMOOUUR! - the plant growled at the men before it. All 5 of them screamed and launched themselves into the pitch black room. They shoved Matt before themselves, who fell on his stomach, dropped his weapon and headbanged the hardwood floor. Beetlejuice snapped his fingers again, which made him and the girls reappear behind the sofa. He peeked out, threw his hand up and made a pulling movement. The burglars all got dragged deeper into the room. It felt like something grabbed their ankles and pulled them...

In the blink of a moment, the door slammed shut behind them, and maniacal laughter filled the air, like it came from every direction. Beetlejuice winked at the girls and got back to his normal, gravelly tone.

- Learn to throw your voice, fool your friends, fun at parties!

- Now THAT is cool! I wanna do that too! - said Rei in an excited tone. Sofía rolled her eyes; she was still very pissed at her sisters so she decided to not give a damn, doesn't matter what awesome things Ari's demon buddy could do. Ari peeked over the edge of the sofa and giggled at the expressions of the men. They looked so afraid. Beetlejuice quickly pulled her back and shushed her with a small laugh. He gestured towards the fireplace which instantly lit up. One of the guys let out a tiny scream, which made BJ rub his palms in ecstasy. He bit his lower lip.

- Mi mamá was right. - said one of the burglars, a shorter latino guy with wobbly voice. - This place... is cursed.

- No it's not. - stated the one next to him. He sounded clearly afraid as well, he just tried to cover it with confidence. - Anyway, what is it with you and curses? You're never happy without a good curse. Superstitious idiot. - he changed into a more sarcastical tone. - "This is cursed, that is cursed!"

- Give it a rest, will ya!!! - shouted Matt, who was looking for the shotgun. - Don't be pussies! It's just the wind, and my baby always had weird plants. You know what we came for. Let's head upstairs, 2 people per girl, and have some fun! - he flashed an evil smile at his "friends". And that made Beetlejuice's blood boil.

- Not on my watch, Mattyboy! - he hissed. He closed his eyes for a moment. Welp, hope I'm not rusty. - Let's see, what are you jerks the most afraid of?

He disappeared from behind the sofa. The girls peeked out, and clearly saw a shadow figure circling the men. It was audible that something was moving behind them. The burglars turned around but didn't see a thing. Beetlejuice's shadow form took a quick look into every men's eyes. Several scriptures from the Middle Ages tell us that if a demon looks into your eyes, they can see your biggest fears. Who would've thought that it's true?

- Got it. - said Beej as he reappeared behind the sofa with a snap. He took a quick look on Ari's excited faced, and flashed a toothy grin. - This is gonna be so. Much. Fun. Let's give those guys the fright of their lives! - Beetlejuice disappeared again, just to reappear next to the windows. His figure was vaguely illuminated by the random thunderbolts. He tilted his head sideways and dropped his left hand next to himself. His painted black nails grew into huge claws, his catlike eyes were glowing, just like his dark burgundy hair. It always looked like this when he was in a destructive, devilish mood. He flashed a wicked, Cheshire-like smile and started to scratch the windows. It made the girls' get goosebumps but the burglars' look was a good enough compensation for the unpleasantness. Ari was pretty sure that the guys saw BJ for a moment before he disappeared with a laugh again. He sounded so evil. Beetlejuice appeared next to Ari again, digging into his fluffy hair, eyes closed, wide smile on his face. Shit, that's hot, thought Ari. - I'm still the Ghost with the Most.

- What if they go upstairs? - asked Sof with a raised eyebrow, pointing at the burglars approaching the stairs. - Hmm? Did ya plan out something for that as well, Mr. Ghosty-ghost?

- Well I have ideas... - said Ari and leaned close to Beej. She whispered something into his ear which made him bite his lower lip. At this point his teeth were more shark-like than human-like.

- Shit babes, you're a natural... - he moaned and flung his hand towards the stairs. Matthias just stepped on the first step, but was stopped by the sight of 2 little girls standing on the top of the stairs, holding hands. Their eyes were all black.

- Come play with us, Matty. Forever... and ever... and ever... - they said in the same rhythm, with the creepiest child-voice you can ever imagine. The burglars stepped back. Ari couldn't hold back any longer and shouted:

- NOW!

The children started screaming histerically and in the same moment, blood started to wave down the stairs, soaring on the walls, splashing at the men. They all screamed bloody murder and tried to ran away, scattering in every possible direction. Beetlejuice's eyes were glowing with pleasure.

- Do you hear that sound, Ari? That BEAUTIFUL sound? - he said with a moan and bit his fist. - That is the sound, of clean, white, shorts turning brown.. - he looked at Ari. - Ain't it the sweetest noise around? - he laughed maniacally which made Ari and Rei giggle as well. - You guys stay here so you won't stay in the way, but you... - he grabbed Ari's hand and pulled her up to her feet. - ...you deserve to enjoy the show from first row, babes.

With a snap, they appeared in the corner, next to good old Long John Silver's skeleton. Beetlejuice wiggled his fingers and the pirate slowly came to life. One of the burglars, with terror in his eyes, tried to run away as far as possible from the reanimated corpse, but clumsily, he lost his foothold because of the dripping blood from his clothes and fell on his back. It made a huge thud. Ari burst out laughing, like the child she was in heart, but tried to cover her mouth with her hand. Beetlejuice was laughing too, but decided to top his performance and wiggled his fingers again. The pirate started rattling as he lifted his sword up, let out a warcry, and started to run in the lying man's direction. He let out an agonizingly high-pitched scream as he got up. BJ and Ari laughed more histerically.

- Did you hear that?! - wheezed the girl and slapped BJ's shoulder. - Oh my god let's make some more people scream!

BJ held Ari's hand, and pulled her over to the TV. The demon tapped the screen which instantly lit up in blue. Weird streaks appeared on it, then a hand from the inside, tapping the glass. Then another one. Then one more. Two guys, who now held each other, screamed out. BJ put his arm around Ari's shoulders.

- Panic and stress, oh ain't it the best? - he said an laughed with his head thrown backwards.

- You are such a weirdo! - she laughed and elbowed him in the side. He let her go, tilted his head sideways, hunched down and bit his lips in a weird, kinda creepy manner. Ari wheezed and scruffed his fluffy hair. Beetlejuice hunched down more.

- Now behind my ear... - he said with a moan. Ari pulled her hand back with a laugh. She looked around, admiring the sight of bloody men running around, but then her eyes found a specific person standing before the steps, staring at her with a shotgun in his hand. The smile from her face disappeared. She took a step back, and Beetlejuice instantly stepped before her, covering her with his body. He formed a little cup with one of his hands, held out the other dramatically and blew into his palm. A huge blob of fire appeared right before them, blowing up in Matthias's face. He screamed and BJ laughed. - No worries babes, I got ya. NOW WHERE WERE WE. - he turned around and after some looking, he pointed at a guy. He was trying to open up the front door, but it was shut. Beetlejuice made huge gestures and summoned a crazy eyed, killer looking dog. Ari awwed and crouched down. The dog acted all surprised when the girl scruffed his head, but in half a second he got really happy and wagged his tail. Beetlejuice raised an eyebrow and made an unimpressed face. - You are a hellhound, you are SO not supposed to do that. - Ari laughed, hugged the dog one more time, then pointed at the guy Beetlejuice was eyeing.

- Go, catch! - she said in an angelic voice. The hellhound started barking and running towards his target. Poor guy jumped up on the hall cabinet.

Beetlejuice snapped again. They now appeared in the downstairs bathroom. A burglar was leaning against the bathroom door, huffing, and as they appeared, he pointed at BJ in fear.

- YOU! - he shouted. - My dad told me about you! The stripey demon with the stupid hair who haunts the creepy house at the edge of the town! Nobody believed a young weedhead pizza guy but you ARE real! - Beetlejuice shrugged and flashed an evil smile.

- Well, why didn't you listen to him? I bet he told ya to stay away from this... - he rubbed his palms together. - ...creepy house... - he opened his palms, water pouring out of them. Ari climbed up on the washing machine, which was a good idea, noticing that something huge started to move in the water. A crab-like figure. The guy screamed bloody murder. BJ laughed and snapped. Him and Ari reappeared in the living room, right behind the sofa. Rei was clapping like an idiot. Shit, even Sofía looked a bit more enthusiastic now. What can I say, the guy IS good.

- Are you lovely ladies having fun? - Ari and Rei nodded exaggeratedly, Sofía huffed and rolled her eyes. - Well the real show is just about to begin! Take your seats! - Beetlejuice teleported the girls onto the sofa while himself appeared on the coffee-table. He started tapping a rhythm with his feet and out of nowhere, the sound of a guitar could be heard. Then came drums. BJ was kinda dancing around on the table, feeling himself. One of the burglars ran towards him with a glass thing he found on one of the shelves. BJ fixed his jacket and with a movement of a hand, he summoned fire towards him. Then laughed at the guy falling over. Now full on music was blasting. Theatrical weirdo, thought Ari. Rei clapped, BJ bowed. Then he raised his hands slowly, making big spiders emerge from the ground. Sof whined a little and closed her eyes.

- EWEWEWEWEW.

One of the burglars, who was sitting in the corner, legs pulled up to his chest, cried out.

- THIS IS JUST A LUCID DREAM! I'M DREAMING! - BJ turned his head backwards, then floated before him with a normal facing, tilted head, and grabbed the guy's chin.

- Really? - the girls didn't see what's happening really, but what they saw, was that BJ's head was getting bigger and that he opened his lower jaw like a snake. - Then tell me, buddyboy, why do I hear you screaming? - the burglar screamed out and turned white as a wall. Beetlejuice appeared next to Ari on the sofa. He wiped his teary eyes and laughed again. Ari grabbed his thigh with an excited smile.

- You are fantastic! Unbelievable! That was a sound that says I will never sleep well again! - she breathed in. BJ's eyes were glowing at her. Literally glowing. - I can't believe you are such a talented scarer. Hollywood should learn from you. - the demon looked down at his shoes and crumpled his jacket. A slight streak of pink appeared in his hair. Ari jumped back. - OH MY GOD YOUR HAIR CHANGES COLOR! - he pulled the differently colored streak and sighed.

- Yeah, it's like a moodring... Stupid thing always tells on me...

- THAT IS THE COOLEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN! - said Ari with excitement in her voice. - What does light pink mean?

- NOTHING. - stated Beej. With a little bit too much voice. He cleared his throat. - Imma tell ya later, but as you said, we still have so much shit to do, to haunt, to kill... - he winked at Ari who rolled her eyes and crossed her arms before her chest. Beetlejuice booped her nose, than pulled her up onto the table. He whirled her around in ecstasy, both laughing, BJ howling sometimes. - Nice moves, little hellion! - he laughed. The music in the background got louder and louder with each moment. BJ let Ari go for a moment. The guys were losing it at this point, most of them crying and running around. Beetlejuice looked at his pal. - Hey Ari, check this out! - he raised his hands, pointing at one guy after another, twitching with each move. All 6 of them stood up straight. BJ looked at Ari with a wicked smile. - Dance break!

To the rhythm of the music, the burglars all started to dance. They did the same moves BJ did, with a weird green fog in their eyes. Beetlejuice occasionally looked at the girls, who were laughing their asses off. BJ did The Thing™, which made them all snort. Beetlejuice didn't notice that it also made Ari check out his pelvic moves.

The music ended, Rei and Sof was holding each other, both of them teared up by laughter. Ari slapped her thighs. Beetlejuice bowed several times.

- Thank you, thank you, thank you! That was an old Scandinavian folk song. - the girls teared up again. Beetlejuice smiled like an idiot. Now his hair was more green then burgundy. He was having a great time. - I mean, yeah, I put my own spin on it, but... Hey, ya liked it!

And that's when their laughter was stopped by the sound of barrel-loading a shotgun.

#alex brightman #beetlegeuse #beetlejuice #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice oc #beetlejuice the musical #fanfic #fanfiction #lawrence beetlejuice shoggoth #musical!beetlejuice #beetlejuice broadway

[moonguilt]

Kindling

Prompt #5 - Angry Kiss

Rating: T

This uhh kinda got longer than I had expected!  I’ll put a line break in so it doesn’t clog up people’s dashboards. It does get a little steamy, but I promise there’s no smut at all; I don’t write smut.  Just thirsty Lance McClain. Enjoy!  Thanks for the prompt!

Lance was drowning.

Silver-limned eyes like pools of mercury—strong arms with rippling form—an already too-tight T-shirt clinging to abs and dark with sweat—

Wham!

He was on his back again, chest heaving and cheeks flushed with what he would vehemently insist was mere exertion.  After hours of training in the Atlas' facilities with the team, Lance could reasonably claim to have lost count of how many times Keith had managed to disarm him and pin him to the ground, a pale arm held beneath his chin and a pouty pair of lips frowning down at him.

(Lance had not, in fact, lost count.  This was number twenty-two.)

(And he was all too eager for number twenty-three.)

But before Lance could open his mouth and demand another rematch—for the sake of self dignity, of course, nothing else—Keith was rising to his feet and extending a hand down in a silent offer.  Lance silently bemoaned the loss of his teammate's legs on either side of him—purely because Keith was warm, he promised himself—but begrudgingly accepted the help up from the ground nonetheless.

Keith gave him a funny look that Lance couldn't quite place.  His thick raven brows were drawn low, and his vibrant eyes were narrowed in thought.

Judgment, Lance surmised.  It was probably judgment.

“We're done for today, team,” Keith called out, turning to the others in the room, and Lance had to bite back a whine.  “Good job.”

Already, Pidge and Hunk were separating from their own duel, and Allura gave one final sweeping whip to a battered training droid before ending the sequence and allowing her bayard to meld back into its stationary form.

Scrambling for an excuse to keep going, Lance sputtered, “Wh—hey!  I was getting somewhere, you know!  Wearing you down.  You know, playing the long strat.  A couple more rounds and you'd be collapsing with exhaustion—or, uh, maybe a few more actually, just to be safe—”

“Lance,” Keith interrupted, his tone offering no room for debate.  Those slate eyes were once again fixed on Lance, boring into him as if picking him apart piece by piece.  He felt terribly exposed all of a sudden. “Stay behind for a few minutes.”

And oh—oh, he could do that.  A few minutes of private training with Keith?  With just their tight flight suits?  Where no one else could—

Wait, what?  Snap out of it, Lance. Lance shook his head as if to clear it of those invasive thoughts. There was no logical reason to get this excited over Keith kicking his ass in private.  Keith kicking his ass and landing on top of him and holding him down with his thighs—

What the FUCK, MAN—

“Lance? Hello?”

Lance once again jolted himself back into the present, only to find a stereotypically grumpy Keith waving a hand at him to grab his wayward attention.

“What, yes, hello, of course I was listening,” Lance practically yelped, suddenly all too aware of the fact that the rest of Team Voltron had vacated the premises.  He felt hot beneath his flight suit.  Wasn't this stupid thing supposed to have body temperature regulation?  Did it only work when the armor pieces were attached?  Fuck. “What's—uh—you wanna spar some more, yeah?”  Jesus, I sound desperate.

Keith just kept giving him that same appraising look, like Lance was some puzzle to be worked out.  Eventually, he placed a surprisingly gentle hand on Lance's arm and guided him over to the edge of the room. “Listen,” he started, a flicker of uncertainty passing over his expression.  “I just—I don't know what's going on, but you didn't bring your A game today.”  A little blunt, to be sure, but this was Keith.  “It's almost like you—like you were...”  He trailed off, his frown deepening.  “... letting me win.”

And wow, if that didn't raise every single one of Lance's proverbial hackles.  Even more so because it was shamefully true.

“Well—well, not everyone's a damned prodigy, you know, Keith,” Lance bit back, immediately hunching his shoulders in a defensive posture and slouching back against the wall behind him.  “Sorry if I didn't live up to your standards today.”

Keith's gaze became incredulous.  “What—that's not what I—I was just... worried—”

“Oh, worried that I'd let the team down?  Worried that I wouldn't be enough of a challenge for you anymore?  That it'd become boring to beat me, huh?”  It was a stupid thing to say, Lance knew, but he couldn’t bear the thought of Keith finding out the truth.

“Lance, what the fuck, where is this coming from?”  The Black Paladin's eyes were blazing now, that familiar fire sparking to life.  Lance felt, distinctly, that if he strayed too close, Keith's flames would consume him like kindling and spit him back out into the sky as ash and cinders.

It was so, so frightening how appealing that was.

That fear spurred him to turn toward the door.  He needed a cold shower and plenty of time to clear his head.  “Man, just leave me the fuck alone—”

Firm hands planted themselves on the wall on either side of him.

“No.”

And, see, Lance considered himself to be a reasonably level-headed individual.  He had been the Blue Paladin, once upon a time, and that position had required a certain degree of restraint and thought before action.  And now that he was the Red Paladin, he was right-hand man to a known hot-head, so he considered himself pretty practiced at reigning in impulses, be they his own or those of his leader.

But when said leader was trapping him against a wall and piercing him with a molten gaze?  Well, Lance could only be held so responsible for himself.

“I'm not fucking leaving you alone, not when I know there's something wr—”

And Lance was just so done. With all of this.

So he took matters into his own hands—and by matters, he meant the collar of Keith's flight suit—and pulled his fiery teammate down with one merciless yank.  His lips were on Keith's in an instant, demanding and agitated and wholly relentless, silencing any furious words that may have otherwise sullied the air.

Keith didn't move an inch.  Within seconds, Lance's brain caught up to his body, and he pulled back with a short gasp, prepared to utter a slew of embarrassed half-apologies, half-excuses.  Before his own horror could even fully root itself in his veins, however, he felt a new pressure on his lips, and opened his eyes to find Keith chasing after the aborted kiss.

Under normal circumstances, Lance would have probably screamed and flailed his arms around a bit and maybe run off to rant at Hunk.

But these were not normal circumstances, and there was a very assertive, very angry Keith Kogane now devouring his mouth, grappling for his waist, licking at his lips, and growling with satisfaction when they parted and permitted entry.

Yeah, there was no way Lance was going to risk ruining this.  So he closed his eyes once more, buried his hands in that messy mullet, and tilted his head invitingly when Keith began to trail rough, open-mouthed kisses along his jaw.  By the time those teeth had found purchase at the top his neck, it really wasn't Lance's fault that such a needy, mewling noise managed to escape his throat.

Keith's approval came in the form of a grunt and renewed fervor.  Wandering hands kneaded into Lance's body, clearly impatient for more of those sounds.  And Lance would have gladly indulged those wishes, had Keith not suddenly pulled back, wearing such a panicked expression that even Lance was dragged from his stupor.

“Oh my God,” Keith blurted in an exhale, his hot breath still fanning over Lance's face.  “Oh my God, are you okay?”

And, what?  What the hell?

“Shit, Lance,” Keith continued, carefully prying Lance's chin up to get a good look at the column of his throat, or at least what was visible above the flight suit.  “Shit, I really messed up your neck.  God, did I hurt you?  I'm so sorry.”

Lance blinked at him once.  Then twice.

“... Lance?  Please say something.”

The Red Paladin brought his hands down from Keith's hair and instead placed them on both sides of his face, cupping the concerned expression held there.  Slowly, deliberately, he leaned up to press a chaste kiss to Keith's nose, then locked their gazes together.

“Keith,” Lance said, quiet and calm, “that is literally the sweetest thing I've ever heard you say, and you are too precious for this universe.” He leaned in, voice still sweet and soft.  “But I just spent the past two hours getting pinned under your thighs, twenty-two times, and now I'm finally getting somewhere, and by somewhere I mean the single hottest make out session of my entire life.”  He stroked a thumb tenderly across Keith's cheek.  “So if you don't continue right where you left off, I am going to go find everyone and expose you for having a biting kink, and then I am going to go die of disappointment.  Okay?”

Pupils blown wide with desire, Keith nodded numbly.  He did not need a second invitation.

#kgesfjhdsfd i got carried away sorry #feel free to send me more prompts you guys!! #klance #laith #vld #keith kogane #lance mcclain #i'll probably add this to my ao3 some time soonish i guess #if im not too lazy LMAO #thats a big if my dudes #lavender letters #my writing #lara82golf #fic requests

[bitchesgetriches]

Hello! I have a question if you don’t mind answering 😊 (please bear in mind, I’m autistic and don’t really understand the social nuances in talking about money so if I come off spoiled or stuck-up I’m so sorry) So! Backstory: my family is pretty well off, and doesn’t really have to worry about money, and both my parents are very religious and like using their money to help others in need, anonymously when possible. So I’ve never really understood the negative connotations with receiving a (1/?)

           (cont’d.) receiving a gift that was something you needed but couldn’t afford. My parents have always done things like choosing a family in need to buy gifts for Christmas kind of thing, and I like doing the same when possible. Cut to now, and my current boyfriend has finally saved up enough money to move out of his abusive ex’s house. However, since he was trying to do it as quickly as possible, there are a lot of things he doesn’t have yet that are essential, like a mattress. His plan is (2/?)   

           (cont’d.) is to buy a blow-up mattress for now, until he can save enough for a real mattress. However, I think it’d be much better to just get a real mattress now, especially considering he has back problems. I know he can’t afford it, but I can. I really want to buy one for him as a gift, no strings attached (not uber-expensive, just in the $200-300 range for now), but I’m afraid he’ll get upset about me paying for such a big purchase. So my question is: what’s the reason behind negative (3/4)       

           (cont’d.) negative reactions to big/expensive gifts when you can’t afford them yourself, and do you guys have any input on whether you think I should buy it? Thanks so much! (4/4)            

Wow, what an interesting question! First of all, dearest, it sounds like you were raised by very generous, caring parents to be a generous, caring person. And that’s nothing to be ashamed of. You should be proud that your family strongly values charitable giving and looking after the less fortunate members of your community. I don’t know what religion you are, but pretty much ALL of them say “take care of poor people and don’t be an asshole.” So you’re doing just fine.

I relate a bit to you in that I was raised in a financially solvent family. I also relate to your boyfriend in that after college, I was completely financially independent, saddled with student loans, and responsible for all of my own living costs. I lived with 5 other people in a shared house owned by one of my roommates... whose wealthy father had bought the house for her. She lived there rent-free and the rest of us paid her rent.

My rich friend was definitely doing the rest of us a favor. It was very kind of her to rent to her friends at below-market value. But inherent in that kindness was the understanding that we all owed her. That we couldn’t have afforded to live in the city without her generosity. And that kind of financial power imbalance can lead to resentment. And resentment is the WORST roommate.

When poorer people accept the generosity or charity of richer people, it stings. It can lead to shame and resentment because to accept such charity is to say “I’m not strong enough/wise enough/capable enough to support myself.” Even if NONE OF THAT IS TRUE, it’s hard to accept charity without feeling those things. We all want to be strong and self-sufficient and independent. To accept charity is to admit failure in that department... or at least that’s the internal perception of many people. We can tell ourselves accepting charity doesn’t have to be a bad thing, that there’s nothing wrong with the generosity of those who have enough to give. But it still can be a huge blow to one’s pride.

I take a lot of fucking pride in how good I am at running my financial life. I’m a strong, capable, bad-ass bitch and I take care of my people. At this very moment, I’m paying a friend who just lost her job to clean my house. I’m perfectly capable of cleaning my own fucking house, but she needs money! And I know that she feels much more comfortable accepting work from me than accepting a “handout.”

Yes, a real mattress will be better for your boyfriend’s back. And yes, you can afford to buy him this gift. But his pride might dictate that he work for the purchase himself, rather than relying on your generosity and, thus, admitting his own failure and weakness. That’s the root of this issue.

All that said, this is a very thoughtful idea. I recommend that you bring it up with him as a discussion. Suggest buying him the mattress because you care about his back pain and his quality of sleep. If you plan on sleeping over at his place, you can frame it as a romantic first big couple purchase! (Literally, a mattress was the first thing my husband and I split the cost on when we were 21. Super romantic. We definitely got our money’s worth...) If he protests the gift, suggest that you buy him the mattress now, and that when he has enough saved up, he can pay you back for it (since he had planned to save for a mattress anyway). If he still doesn’t want you to buy him a mattress, drop it. Don’t bring it up again. Allow him to do this his way and don’t criticize his choice.

Good luck, vanilla bean. We’re really proud of you for being so thoughtful and sensitive to your boyfriend’s physical and emotional needs.

And while we’re on the topic of relationships and charity...

How Dafuq Do Couples Share Their Money? 

Judging Charities Like Judgey McJudgerson: How Can Your Donation Make the Biggest Impact? 

*Neither of us is autistic. Happy to field follow-up questions if anything was unclear in the way I phrased the above.